A Hacked-Up Holiday Massacre: Halloween Is Going to Be Jealous

I *HEART* RECYCLING

by Lesley Conner

Matt slammed the door of his stepdad’s Escalade, looking around the graveled parking lot surrounded by the forest and one shadowed path. There were no other cars in the small lot, no buildings, no people. Just Matt, his mom, his stepdad, and his two half-sisters.

And a rabbit, perched just off the gravel, staring at Matt with wide, moist eyes, completely still.

I have to spend all day pissing in the woods with a bunch of bunnies just because Tucker thinks we should plant a tree for Earth Day. Matt could hear his stepdad’s voice in his head—It’ll be good for Brooklyn and Dallas. In his opinion, it was the biggest waste of time. If you’re going to plant a tree, why would you do it in a forest? There are already trees there. And he was sure their town had planned some Earth Day festivities anyway, like cleaning up the park or something. Why couldn’t they’ve just gone and done that instead of wasting the entire day out here? But he’d come along without too much complaining to keep his mom happy, drawing the line when she wanted him to wear a t-shirt with a picture of Earth hugging itself. He was here; he didn’t have to look stupid, too.

Stooping, Matt picked up a chunk of gravel, skipping it across the lot towards the rabbit. The rabbit jumped high in the air as the rock came skittering towards it, twisting and bounding into the dark undergrowth. Matt shook his head as he crossed the lot, following his family into the forest.

Brooklyn bounced down the path. There was a sapling under one arm, twirling like a tornado in its plastic pot with each step, and Matt was certain the poor thing would be toast before his family decided to put it in the ground. They’d already killed one by forgetting to water it, and had to buy a new one on the way. He watched his sister trailing the fingers of her free hand along the vegetation growing at the side of the path, yanking handfuls of leaves out every few steps, and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He’d never understand kids.

His mom Jenn and Tucker were walking with Dallas a little behind Brooklyn. Jenn had a leather backpack hanging low on her back, stuffed with goodies for a picnic. Tucker swung a small spade, he liked to call a shovel, from his hand, pointing out the birds in the trees to two-year-old Dallas.

Chirp-chirp. Digging around in his pocket, Matt pulled out his phone.

How’s Fucker?

Reading the message from his best friend Jacob, Matt couldn’t help but smirk as he slid his gaze toward Tucker.

He’s wearing loafers. Who wears loafers to go hiking?

He really is a fucker.

“Matt, you are not going to be on that phone all day. Tell Jacob you’ll talk to him later.”

Hearing his mom’s voice, Matt’s fingers flew over the keypad.

Yeah. Let you know how it goes later. Mom’s cutting me off.

He snapped the phone shut without waiting for a reply. Looking up, he saw Jenn staring at him over the top of Dallas’s head. The toddler was balanced on one hip, wiggling to get down. Setting the girl on her feet, Jenn kept her gaze on her son, silently reminding him of the conversation they’d had the day before. Don’t mess up the day. Tucker had gone to a lot of trouble planning it; it was important to him. Matt nodded his understanding and shoved the phone deep into his pocket. Quickening his steps, he hurried to Dallas, who was bent down, pushing in an anthill. The bugs struggled out of the collapsed earth, spinning in confused circles as Dallas poked again and again at the soft dirt.

“Come on, Dally. Walk with Bubby.”

Dallas looked up at him, one finger poised to thrust downward again, her hair pulled in two tight pigtails, a brown, “I *Heart* Recycling” t-shirt stretched over her belly. The heart was made with pink recycling arrows.

“Hi, Bubby. Look. Bugs.” A toothy grin spread across her face. Pulling Dallas to standing, Matt pushed more soil on top of the swarming ants with the toe of his sneaker. Their antennae waved angrily as they scrambled up and over the shifting dirt.

“Yep, sweetie, bugs.”

He walked a few feet behind the rest of his family, Dallas jerking on his arm with her tottering steps. His mom went over and put her arm around Tucker, leaning her head on his shoulder, and Matt could hear the cadence of their conversation, as slow and steady as breathing. Brooklyn twirled around them at a dizzying speed only young children can keep up, her higher voice interjecting among his parents’ lower tones. The sight should’ve been reassuring, a happy family, something he knew wasn’t common, but it only made Matt realize how much he didn’t fit in.

His mom had him at sixteen years old. She’d never told him much about his real dad, other than he was a huge loser who couldn’t handle having a baby. They’d lived with his grandparents the first five years of his life. Then Jenn managed to scrape enough money together between her two jobs to pay for a lousy, one bedroom apartment and a couple of night classes at the community college. It’d only been about six months after moving in when Jenn met Tucker. The relationship moved quickly, and before Matt was seven, he had a stepfather and his own bedroom in the suburbs. Brooklyn had been born when he was twelve, and Dallas when he was fifteen; his mom finally had the perfect family. Her only reminder that life had ever been unsavory was Matt.

She liked to tell him he was her surprise; something she didn’t know she wanted until she got it, but he knew he was a mistake. Christ, his mom was younger than him when he was born, and he definitely wasn’t ready for a kid of his own.

The fact was Matt knew he had it good. Tucker was a goofball, but he was fair and loved his mom. Brooklyn and Dallas were the best. It’d been lonely growing up without any siblings, so he was glad they had each other. Sometimes he just got tired of acting like he was a part of everything. I don’t even need to be here. I could be home playing Call of Duty and no one would even notice.

Picking up Dallas, Matt jogged up to the rest of the family. Giggles burst from the toddler with each jostling step, sounding like shrieks bouncing off the dense trees. She grabbed his face, squishing his cheeks forward painfully, and he scrunched his lips together, blowing a raspberry on her arm, making her laugh even harder.

“Here. Walk with Mommy for a minute.” He handed her over to Jenn, who unwrapped herself from Tucker’s side. Dallas immediately reached for him.

“I want Bubby. I go you.” “I’ll be right back.” He hated seeing the tears welling in her eyes, but he had to walk away for a minute, take a deep breath.

“Where are you going?” Jenn’s eyebrows knit together.

“Gotta take a piss.” Matt turned to step off the path and head a few feet into the forest. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Just don’t get lost. I think we’re going to find someplace to eat lunch in a couple of minutes, then we’re going to plant our tree. I don’t want to walk too far with the girls.” Jenn looked down at Brooklyn, who held the sapling up. A grin cut her face in two, revealing pink gums with white stabbing through where her big teeth were coming in. The tree leaned to one side, lacking the energy to stand up straight anymore.

Matt rolled his eyes.

“I’m taking a piss. I’m not hiking into the wilderness. Be right back.”

“I need to piss, too,” Brooklyn said. “Where’s the potty?”

Jenn sighed loudly, putting Dallas on her feet and reaching for Brooklyn’s hand. Even though her back was to him, Matt could tell she was irritated by the set of her shoulders. Tucker looked at him, his lips pulled in a tight line, freezing the smile that had started to spread across Matt’s face.

“You could have chosen your words more carefully. Your sisters look up to you.”

“Sorry.”

Matt ducked into the woods before Tucker had a chance to say anything more. Green leaves formed a wall between him and his family, giving him a curtain of privacy. Closing his eyes, he rolled his head around on his neck, trying to release some of the annoyance building from being on Tucker’s stupid outing. He shook his head. Tucker tried to do what was best, but sometimes Matt wondered if he had any idea how ridiculous it all seemed.

Brooklyn and Dallas are having fun. The thought popped into his head, seemingly from nowhere, and he knew it was true.

“Fuck.” Matt kicked at a tree trunk, knocking bark to the ground. He stomped a few more feet into the forest. Looking back towards the path, he couldn’t see or hear his family, so he figured they hadn’t heard him drop the F-bomb. Tucker would love that. Pulling a cigarette from his pocket, he leaned against a tree, sliding down until he sat on the ground, and smoked. His dad had been non-existent, nowhere to be found. That didn’t mean Tucker was an ass.

He jabbed a knuckle into his stinging eye, rubbing at it viciously. There was no way in hell he was going to cry over a deadbeat fucker.

Shit.

He should be happy for Brooklyn and Dallas. They had a dad who loved them, who cared. Fact was Tucker cared about him, too, even though blood didn’t bind them. It was just hard knowing somewhere out there was someone who didn’t give a shit. Someone who could just walk away.

“Ow!” A searing pain ripped through Matt’s leg from his ankle to his knee, burning through his muscles, causing them to spasm. He smacked at it, jerking up his pant leg to reveal a twisted ant seizing in death and an angry welt running up his calf. Brushing the bug off, he looked at the ground, searching for an anthill or a marching army coming to swarm him. He didn’t see anything.

He stood, flicking his half smoked cigarette to the ground and then snuffing it out with his foot. Turning back towards the path, he kept his gaze downward, wondering where the ant had come from. He searched the trunk of the tree he’d been leaning against as he passed it. Do ants make nests in trees?

Whumpf!

Matt crashed to the ground, his ankle twisting like the ant’s body. Blood poured from his nose and his chest tightened. He tried sucking in a deep breath, but earth clogged his mouth and he choked, coughing up soil slimy with saliva.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.” It hurt to breath, to move, but he kept muttering under his breath. Slowly, he sat up. His ankle had already swollen to the size of a grapefruit and didn’t look like it was slowing. The skin was pulled tight and purple. Next to it was a perfect loop of tree root shooting straight out of the ground that he’d snagged his foot on. The soil was loosened all around and under it. How had he missed that? Using the tree trunk for leverage, Matt pulled himself up. Gently, he tested his ankle. It hurt like a bitch, but he didn’t think it was broken. Wiping his bloody nose on his sleeve, he limped towards the path.

Ten minutes later he found his family sitting in a half circle at the base of a tree. Tucker looked up as he hobbled towards them. His sharp intake of breath made Jenn look up from the yogurt she was feeding Dallas.

“Matt, what happened to you?” She hurried toward him, bending his head back so she could check his nose.

“I tripped. I’m fine.” The blood had congealed into a thick crust over his upper lip, cracking with each word.

Jenn shook her head, like she couldn’t believe her son could be so clumsy. She gripped his elbow, leading him to the picnic, letting out a loud sigh as she helped him sit on the ground.

“Your ankle looks pretty bad. You sure you’re okay?” Tucker asked. He was sitting on a low rock beside Brooklyn, half a peanut butter sandwich gripped in one hand.

“Yeah. It’s just twisted, not broken. I tripped over a stupid root.”

“You’re lucky. What would we have done if you’d broken it?” Jenn wiped her hands on her pants before sitting back down.

“I guess we would have had to call for help. I don’t know, Mom. I didn’t fall on purpose.” He grabbed a bag of chips and a juice pouch out of his mom’s bag, putting his head down to end the conversation. Why did she sound so irritated? If one of the girls had fallen she’d be all over them, kissing them to make the booboo go away.

Out of the corner of his eye, Matt saw Tucker shake his head, then turn towards Brooklyn.

“So, Brookie, why are we out here today?”

“’Cause it’s Earth Day.” She grinned, knowing she’d answered her dad’s question correctly.

“Yes, but what are we doing?”

“Planting our tree, so it can be with its family.” Brooklyn stretched her foot forward, pointing to the sapling with her toe. It toppled over, half of the rich soil falling out of the pot as it rolled down the gentle slope away from her. Tucker reached out his hand and steadied the tree, but didn’t sit it upright. He watched his daughter as she jumped up from her spot beside him and plunged her hand into the backpack filled with goodies. When she sat back down, she had an oatmeal cookie in her hand.

“Right, we’re planting our tree, but why?”

Brooklyn slowly unwrapped her cookie, letting the clear plastic fall to the ground as she took a huge bite. Around a mouthful of cookie and cream filling, she answered: “’Cause it’s Earth Day.”

Leaning his head forward, Matt couldn’t help but think again how stupid this was. If Brooklyn didn’t understand what they were doing, then no way Dallas would. What was the point?

“Look! A bunny!”

Matt looked up to see Brooklyn walking towards a brown rabbit sitting on its back legs in the weeds at the edge of the path. It looked just like the rabbit he’d seen in the parking lot and was just as observant. Both of its ears were pointed forward, honing in on everything the family did. It sat very still, only its little bunny nose twitching.

“Here, bunny. Want a bite of my cookie?” Leaning forward, she bent down, holding out a small piece. The rabbit twitched…and then jumped on her.

Tucker shot up as Brooklyn screamed. The rabbit bit deep into her arm, and she waved it back and forth in the air, trying desperately to shake the beast off. Blood ran down her skin and coated the bunny, clumping its soft fur into a black mass. Tucker started towards her but stopped when he saw more rabbits in the shadows of the foliage. The muscles in his face twitched, pulling his lips away from his teeth.

“Tucker! Help her!” Jenn stood, Dallas pressed against her chest. Tears streamed down both their faces, and Dallas kept screaming, “Brookie, Brookie,” over and over again.

Seeing Tucker wasn’t moving, Matt forced himself to stand. Something popped in his ankle with the sudden movement, and he threw up what little he’d eaten. The acidic smell of juice and chips ran down his face and covered his shirt and hands.

“Get out of the way.” He shoved passed Tucker, reaching out for the rabbit latched onto his sister’s arm. He grabbed her shoulder, trying to turn her toward him so he could get to the animal, but she was so hysterical she must have not realized it was him, screaming even louder and trying to get away. He tightened his grip, yelling her name. Her hair stuck to her face, snot and tears glistening against her pale skin.

Matt grabbed the rabbit, the soft fur at its neck sliding between his fingers, leaving tuffs sticking in the vomit splatter. The rabbit screamed as he wrenched it off Brooklyn. Blood coated its fur, its teeth chomping to grab ahold of her again. He flung it away, the motion like a flag signaling the other rabbits hiding in the undergrowth along the path. They launched themselves at Brooklyn. She’d lain down, cradling her bleeding arm, wailing in pain. The rabbits covered her like a blanket before Matt could reach for her. Her screeches filled the forest.

“Brooklyn!” Matt tried to pull the rabbits away, but they bucked their back legs, scratching long fissures into his forearms. Their teeth locked on her flesh, ripping away chunks of skin and muscle before going back for more. He couldn’t get to his sister.

Desperate, he looked for Tucker and his mom. Anyone to help. Jenn stood frozen. Her eyes were wide, her arms locked as tightly on Dallas as the rabbits were on Brooklyn. She shook her head, denying what she saw, a high-pitched keening whistling between loose lips. Tucker backed down the path. His face was white, his nostrils flaring as he snorted air, and he looked close to hyperventilating. His chin jutted forward, pulling the muscles in his neck tight, making them stand out. Scarlet lips flapped, no sound coming out as he tried to remember how to talk.

“It can’t be. This can’t be.” He stuttered and stumbled over his words and over the path. “Brooklyn. JENN!” Tucker turned to run; a black shadow dashed toward him from the woods.

Matt jerked his head back towards his mom, barely registering that Brooklyn was quiet, only a lulling slurp coming from the furry mass covering her body. Unable to comprehend what he saw, paralysis overcame him.

The tree behind his mom was moving. Not blowing in the wind, but moving. A limb bent downward striking her across the head. Matt watched in horror as she stumbled and Dallas tumbled from her arms, bouncing off a rock and rolling across the dirt path. A loud snap punctuated her screams as her left arm broke.

The forest became a blur of movement. The tree struck Jenn a second time, knocking her off her feet, blood pouring from her scalp. Then it struck again and again, not giving her time to cry out.

It was Tucker who screamed in pain, and when Matt looked, he saw a large buck pinning his stepdad to a tree. Tucker beat at the animal, causing more injury to himself than he inflicted. Red oozed from his arms where again and again he tried to push the deer away, slicing his flesh on its large rack. Finally, the deer backed up. Tucker fell to the ground, moaning and curling in anguish. The buck attacked again, this time with his hooves.

Matt’s chest felt tight and his arms and legs tingled. His ankle was forgotten. Nothing made sense and he didn’t know what to do. Everyone he loved, everyone in his entire family, was hurt or dying.

Finally, Dallas’s cries cracked through his shock. Matt’s eyes truly opened and all he saw was red. Blood covered the earth and pounded in his ears as he raced forward to scoop up his baby sister. She lay on the ground, one arm bent awkwardly behind her, rolling back and forth, screaming.

Ants covered her feet and legs like stockings. Matt remembered the searing pain he’d felt when the ant had bitten him earlier, and his stomach rolled with the thought of feeling the hundreds covering Dallas. Fighting back the urge to be sick, he snatched her off the ground, flinching when she bellowed louder than before. A quarter-sized hole had been under her body, ants exploding from the earth in droves. He stumbled away, trying to escape the clicking mandibles. Dallas’s arm flopped uselessly, Jell-o in a plastic bag. He beat at her legs, trying to wipe away the clinging insects and ignoring the familiar burn as their mouths bit deep into his skin. As they fell away, he saw her feet had been flayed, leaving raw meat exposed. Matt couldn’t contain the nausea anymore. He heaved. Bile, hot and scalding, burned his throat and mouth.

Dallas’s screams beat against Matt’s ears, but the forest grew quiet. Standing on shaking legs, he looked around at what was left of his family. Tucker had been smashed to a liquefied pulp covering the pathway like a puddle. His mom was a bundle of bruises. Every one of her limbs lay snapped in the wrong direction, sometimes two. Her face was slack, a large hole in her head. A gray substance leaked into her hair, clumping it together. Matt couldn’t bring himself to think of it as her brain; it was just gray. Turning back to look in the direction they’d been heading, he saw the rabbits were gone. So was most of Brooklyn. What lay on the ground wasn’t his sister, but scraps from a ravaged meal.

Matt couldn’t get any air as the images pressed down on him. Spots danced before his eyes. He was going to pass out, and it would be a relief. He had to get away, anyway he could, even if it was through unconsciousness.

No. He couldn’t let that happen. There was nothing he could do for Brooklyn, his mom or Tucker, but Dallas was still alive. He had to get her help. Matt stumbled up the path, his gut clenching every time he jostled Dallas and she whimpered.

“It’s okay, baby. Bubby will get you out. I’ll get you out.” Hot tears poured down his face. Everything had gone so wrong, so quickly.

Matt heard the branch before he felt it. A sharp whistling, then his arms went numb. Dallas fell, and as he watched her, tumbling in slow-motion, he looked down and saw the branch protruding from his chest. A red stain blossomed outward, soaking his shirt and dripping down his stomach in hot rivers. With a groan, his body slid forward, falling toward the ground. He tried to roll away from Dallas, but found he couldn’t move, could only watch as he crushed her already tortured legs. She shrieked.

Matt could feel himself growing weaker. The branch had punched a geyser through him, letting his life pour onto the ground. Dallas struggled to sit herself up, pulling at her legs, trying to get them out from under him. Finally, slippery with blood, she managed to break free. She crawled forward till she reached Matt’s head. His eyes kept sliding closed.

“Bubby. Bubby, get up. I go you.” She patted his face. He jerked his eyes open and wanted to cry. Dallas was sitting right there. He needed to get her out of the forest, but he couldn’t. There was no way. The only thing he could do was watch over her until death took him. Watch over her and watch out for the tree still moving behind her. It picked up the sapling Brooklyn had dropped, and then gouged a small hole in the earth a little ways from its trunk, placing the sapling in it and gently pushing the soil around the smaller tree. Seemingly satisfied, it was finally still, the only sound Dallas’s pleading and the only movement her frantic patting on his cheek.

“Pease, Bubby. Pease. I go you.”