The Mammoth Book of Best New Horror. Volume 19

SIMON STRANTZAS The Other Village

"SOMETHING DIFFERENT, you want?"

The man spoke to Monica, but kept his eye on the tour guide, not wanting to be overheard. His skin was dark, the colour of slick black olives, and his yellow shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, revealing the ring of tiny deep-brown stones that lay in relief around his neck. A few dozen similar necklaces of a lighter shade were lined up on the table before him.

"God, yes," said Jessica. "This has been the worst vacation ever. We want to see something different, don't we Monica?"

But Monica knew Jessica didn't really care what she had to say, and hadn't since they left Toronto three days earlier. Going away together proved to be a huge mistake, and Monica wished there were some way she could step back in time and correct it. She closed her eyes and prayed, but when she opened them again she was still in the hot Mediterranean bazaar, and the dark-skinned merchant was looking straight at her.

"I know place. Not like here. This place, not so many people come see. Like real place." There was a sense of pride when he said that, yet it felt as though he were selling the experience. Monica suspected this happened a lot — everyone trying to poach the members of tour groups to extract money from them. It was probably why he didn't want anyone hearing his offer. Jessica, though, didn't seem concerned.

"Listen, buddy. If you can tell us where to go where there's less people like us and more like you, I'm sold."

He smiled large and nodded quickly, like some wind-up toy, and Monica felt uneasy. She whispered into Jessica's ear. The larger woman exploded.

"Who cares if we already paid them? They aren't showing us anything we couldn't see on television. Besides, this guy says we'll be back tonight. There's plenty of time to join up again with all the old ladies tomorrow. I'm tired of walking between the ropes; let's go behind the scenes!"

Jessica was starting to sweat with excitement, her doughy skin flushed. The merchant continued to smile, and waved a young man to his side.

"My friend. He will take you," he said, then turned and spoke something fast and guttural. The young man smiled as well, and nodded. He looked at Monica, and she stepped back into the sun.

"You give this," the merchant said, and handed Jessica a piece of paper. Then he picked one of the necklaces from his table. "You buy necklace now?"

Jessica laughed. "Not me. But Monica, you do it. It's not like you can't afford it."

Monica, resigned in irritation, opened her pocketbook again.

They followed the young man for what seemed like an hour, and the more distance they put between them and their tour group, the deeper Monica's dread became.

"Do you really think this is a good idea?"

"Stop being a baby. It's going to be fine. You wanted an interesting trip. I'm just finally making it happen."

"An interesting trip, yes," she said quietly, hoping the dark-skinned man in front of them couldn't hear, "but not a dangerous trip. Haven't you heard about what happens? About people being kidnapped and sold as slaves?"

Jessica snorted. "Have you looked at yourself? No one's going to buy you." She laughed, and their guide turned for a moment and laughed, too. Monica hoped he hadn't understood the joke.

And it wasn't that funny a joke. Considering the size of Jessica, Monica felt positively svelte. She could stand to lose a few pounds, true, but she thought she still looked as thin as she had back in her school days. Jessica, on the other hand, had ballooned since then.

Monica frowned, trying to keep her anger in check. She was sorely tempted to leave, but didn't want to deal with Jessica's whinging. It had been so far unbelievable, the amount that she complained about everything. The two of them had planned their trip out over a year before, at a time when both their lives had fallen into a funk. During that intervening year, however, Jessica had managed to find herself a new job and circle of friends, and as the months passed the two of them had grown distant. If not for the trip, Monica doubted they would have continued talking. And, yet, even after Monica gave the woman chance after chance of pulling out of their shared vacation, Jessica wouldn't do it. She spoke of how much closer it was going to bring them, how it was going to reignite their friendship, and Monica didn't know if it was her loneliness or something else but for some reason she let herself be convinced. Yet, her worrying seemed all for naught; everything went fine… until their plane left the runaway. As though a switch were flipped, Jessica's attitude turned, and Monica was blamed for taking her away from all her new friends — as though Monica should feel guilty, and at the same time privileged, that Jessica was spending this time with her. Halfway through their trip, when Jessica finally stopped talking and started sleeping, Monica contemplated how easy it would be to grab a pillow and hold it down over Jessica's face. She doubted any court would convict her once the evidence was presented.

They were walking past boats lined upon along a pier, the dark men on board juggling nets and equipment and staring at the two pale women walking past, when Monica heard the tinny electronic sound of a Latin rhythm. The young man produced a cellular telephone from one of his many pockets, and spoke a few words into it that Monica couldn't understand. Jessica seemed oblivious to the eyes that scoured them, and pointed skyward at a pair of large grey gulls circling overhead. The young man shut his telephone and motioned towards the end of the pier, to a small ship docked there. Monica's fears eased somewhat. Then, he held out his hand impatiently.

Jessica looked and said, "You're the one who gets paid the big money, not me."

Monica sighed and produced a few more bills from her shrinking wallet. She gave them to the young man who nodded, then jogged away.

"Don't worry, Monica. You're going to love this. Have I ever steered you wrong?"

Monica bit her tongue.

The ship was far from being the dirty boat Monica had expected. It was at least one hundred feet long, and on its deck was a handful of other North American tourists. When Jessica and Monica reached the ramp, a young native man in a white sailor suit came to greet them, and spoke further words Monica didn't understand. Jessica stepped up, holding the note she'd been given. "We were supposed to show this to you," she said. The steward read the note, and then studied the two of them. Monica felt the needles of worry. He turned to Jessica and held out his hand.

Jessica smiled and turned to Monica.

Monica sighed and paid the man more of their money, and then he disappeared up the ramp.

"I hope this works," Jessica said. "Or else I'm going to wring that guy's — oh, there's the captain."

The man approaching from the ship could be no one but the captain. His face was broad and weathered, trimmed with a thick white beard that contrasted his tanned skin. When he reached them, Monica could tell right away he wasn't originally a local.

"I'm Captain Lethes, and you two must be our new special guests. Please, come aboard. We'll be leaving momentarily."

As they followed him up the ramp, Monica saw the crew working on the pier, untying the long ropes, untethering the ship from what held it.

Up close, it was clear that the ship had seen its share of travels. There were signs of rust on the metal railings, and they stained the peeling white paint. Nevertheless, none of the other few passengers seemed to mind. In fact, they looked quite contented, chatting amiably amongst themselves as they sauntered across the deck or lounged in deckchairs. There was a sudden awful scream and it made Monica jump, before she embarrassingly realized it was the sound of the ship's whistle. The crew ran past with a practised step, and after a moment there was the smell of burning oil. Then the ship jolted forward and the pier where it had been docked slipped slowly away.

"Isn't this exciting?" Jessica said. "I bet you're glad I decided to take us on this detour. What would you do without me?"

Monica gritted her teeth, and wondered how hard it would be to push Jessica over the railing. Or, better yet, feel that fat loose skin between her fingers. She shook her head, surprised at herself.

"I'm going to take a walk around the ship," she stammered. "Maybe take some photos."

"Good idea. I'm just going to sit down here for a minute." Jessica eased herself into a vacant lounge chair. "My head is starting to hurt."

It felt good to get away from Jessica, if only for a few minutes. Monica walked past a couple holding hands and she smiled. At least someone was having a good vacation. They looked like newlyweds, and for a moment Monica wondered what it would have been like to be in that position. She was struck with the urge to take a picture, but faltered, knowing it was the last thing of which she wanted to be reminded. She didn't mind being alone, of course, but as time went on it felt less and less by choice.

She stopped at the prow of the ship, and looked ahead to where they were travelling. She could see an island there, its peak raised from the deep blue water, pointing toward white clouds. It looked like something from a postcard. She reached into her bag for her camera and came up empty-handed. She must have left it behind at the hotel, and cursed herself for being so forgetful, especially as it was one of the few things over the last week she wanted to remember. She sighed and checked her watch. It would probably take another fifteen minutes to reach the island. Perhaps she should stay there for a little while longer and try to commit the sight to memory.

"Hiding, are you?"

Monica turned upon hearing the voice. Beside her stood Captain Lethes, his smile highlighting the creases that covered his face. He cleared his throat, and then spoke conspiratorially. "It's okay, I won't tell."

She smiled, and then looked about her to make sure Jessica wasn't in sight. Even so, she kept her voice down. "I'm just taking a break, enjoying the view."

"Yes, it's beautiful, isn't it? I absolutely adore it. Once I came down here, I never wanted to go back home again. There's something about this place that makes it easy to forget about the ghosts of your past. It's a wonder, sometimes, we don't get more passengers. I dislike having to poach them."

Monica looked back at the sparkling water, the sun reflecting off its surface.

"I suppose it's the cost. No one ever has enough money."

"This is sadly true. One can work forever and only accrue troubles. Isn't that right?"

Monica nodded, and he looked out beatifically at the waters ahead of them. Around his neck, she noticed a familiar dark brown necklace.

"Those seem quite popular around here."

He seemed confused until she pointed at his neck. "Oh yes. It's an island custom of which I must admit I've grown quite fond. You should get one."

"I have one," she said, and retrieved the link of shiny tan stones from her pocket. "I'm just not wearing it."

"It won't do you much good like that."

"I suppose not," she said with a laugh, and fastened the string around her neck. Already, she was forgetting how irritating her trip had been thus far.

That relief, though, didn't last long.

"It seems your friend has found you."

"Pardon?"

Captain Lethes smiled and cocked his head. Jessica rushed towards them, waving urgently.

Monica closed her eyes for a moment to steel herself.

"Monica! Where have you been?"

"I've just been talking to the captain."

He smiled and nodded. Jessica eyed him with suspicion.

"Shouldn't you be steering the ship? We're almost at the island."

"We are?" said Monica, and looked to the water to see the island had grown tremendously in size. Yet, it was still quite small by most standards — one could easily walk its length in an hour or so. The colour of it was a deep gorgeous green, trees growing high amid plants below, and all that tropical scenery surrounded a small village filled with bright off-white stone roofs.

"Oh, I have a crew who take cares of the steering." The captain's smile didn't falter, which impressed Monica. "Besides, we'll be mooring at the village on the other side of the island. You don't want to stop at this one."

"What's wrong with it?" Jessica said.

"Look at it. It's deserted, for one."

He was right. Monica couldn't see anyone there. Even the plants had begun to invade its space. She saw some movement in the corner of her eye, but that was most likely the reflection of the trees in the empty windows. She saw no people in the streets.

"What happened to everybody?"

"What ever happens to people? Those that could eventually moved on. You see that a lot around here. Nothing seems to be permanent. We should be veering away from it at any moment."

And, as if by cue, the ship began to turn. He smiled as though pleased with his moment of forecast. "As your friend suggests, I ought to get back to ensure everything goes smoothly from here to the end. We should reach the pier in ten minutes, in case you needed anything."

"No," Jessica said, watching the village shrink into the trees. "We have all our baggage right here."

He smiled again and walked away.

Jessica turned to her friend after he left. "I see you're wearing that necklace now," she said, though the tone of her voice said something different.

It did not take long for the ship to make its way around the lush island. When the second pier came into sight, Monica heard the ship's engines cut out, and they began to coast towards their destination. The crew, hitherto unseen during the trip, emerged from hiding and began to dash across the ship to prepare for its impending mooring. Monica was amazed as she watched them work. It was as though they were so familiar with their jobs they could do them without thought.

Jessica, too, watched the crewmen, and then leaned close and said, "They all look the same, don't they?" Monica was horrified, yet recognized there was some truth to what Jessica had said. Beyond the issue of race, the crew all had the same haircut, the same uniform, the same build; from behind, they were indistinguishable. Yet, Monica could not admit it. If she did, it would be all the excuse Jessica needed to complain anew. So Monica said nothing and tried to forget Jessica was there beside her.

As the second village came into view, Monica was surprised to see it looked virtually identical to the one they had passed a few minutes earlier. Here were the same deep green trees surrounding the same off-white stone roofs. Except within this village people were milling about, some looking out at the approaching ship with hands above their eyes to block the noonday sun. True to the merchant's words, the island's inhabitants did seem more authentic than those back on the mainland.

The bulk of the people Monica could see looked to be natives, with only a few pale westerners among them. One of that minority stood farther away than the rest, among the trees just outside the village, and as the ship approached, the figure seemed to be waving fiercely. Monica looked back at the other passengers, including Jessica, as they waved in return. Monica did the same, before she realized that person on the island was gone, swallowed by the motion of the dark green leaves.

As the ship pulled alongside the peer, crew members leapt over the sides to moor the vessel. Their dark arms moved quickly, tying the ropes off and securely knotting them. Then, the captain walked onto the deck and said something in their language, waving them forward.

Jessica put on her backpack.

"Let's make sure we stay together now. I don't want us to get separated when everybody gets off."

Yes, Monica thought, picking up her own bags. That would be a shame.

Jessica and Monica were the last of the passengers in line to disembark. Captain Lethes had moved to the bottom of the ramp almost immediately, and insisted on offering a hand to each woman whether she needed it or not. Monica stopped to ask him what time the ship was going back to the mainland.

"As long as you're back here by six, you shouldn't have any troubles."

Monica thanked him and casually looked over at Jessica who already seemed displeased.

"This place is just like where we came from. Look!" She pointed at the rows of houses. What had been unclear from the ship was that each of the buildings had a large hole cut in its wall and from it sprouted a merchant operated table or display. It was another bazaar like the one from which they had been recruited, except smaller and no doubt pricier. "What a waste! This vacation keeps getting worse."

"You know — " Monica said, then bit her tongue. She was embarrassed by Jessica's behaviour in front of Captain Lethes, yet she had to remember that there were still five days left to spend with her, and if there was one lesson learned so far, it was saying anything contrary would only cause another eruption. Instead, Monica tried to remain positive.

"It's only for a few hours. Maybe one of these places has food." She looked around, and saw a short distance away a group of the ship crew, sitting on chairs in front of another house. They were all laughing, and periodically lifted their drinks together.

"I'm afraid the food here isn't the primary attraction," said the captain.

Jessica rolled her eyes. "Then why do people come here?"

"Some appreciate the opportunity to relax in a place where they might leave their troubles behind. There once were walks around the island, as well, but that ended a few years ago. Nowadays, most confine their activities to the village."

"What about the other one? Have you been there?" Monica asked, and for a moment the captain didn't speak.

"Once, some time ago, but since then I've had no reason to return."

Jessica, however, immediately seized the idea.

"That's where we're going, then. Let's go, Monica." She hitched up her pack to secure it, and walked away.

"Wait. Where?"

She didn't slow. "You don't have to come, but I want to see that other village. It can't be worse than staying here."

«But-» was all Monica said before Jessica was too far to speak to without yelling. She looked around and saw the islanders had stopped and were watching her. Captain Lethes simply shrugged.

"Are you sure you want to go, too? It's quite a journey."

Jessica was already at the edge of the jungle beyond the rows of houses.

"If I don't, I'll never hear the end of it."

He smiled, sympathetically. "You should leave your baggage behind." He pointed at her pack. "You won't be needing it, and I'll make sure it's kept safe for you."

Monica thanked him, and gave him her backpack. Then, she jogged to catch up with her friend.

Jessica had stopped just outside the village to wait for Monica to catch up. When they were together, Jessica looked back at the village and said, "I'm not going to let that guy tell me where I can and can't go on my own vacation."

The walk through the plants and trees quickly turned humid. The two women trudged along the worn trail, aimed towards the other end of the island. Jessica did not seem especially prepared for the journey, and the sweat that soaked her pink shirt also turned it the darkest shade of red. She stopped periodically and took a drink from the bottle of water in her bag. She looked ready to collapse. Flies circled her, and she could barely wave them away.

"Maybe we should turn back," Monica suggested.

"No, we're practically there," Jessica said as she gasped for air. "If you want to chicken out and go back, that's fine with me. I came to see something different and that's what I'm going to do."

"You don't look well, Jessica. We shouldn't have come out here."

"Don't be stupid. You don't think I can do this, do you? 'Poor fat Jessica can't walk a few feet'." Her face was twisted as she used a shrill singsong voice. Monica's muscles clenched. Jessica was on the edge of her last nerve. If she said one more thing-

"I'm surprised someone so well off is such a quitter."

Monica snapped.

"Listen, I've put up with enough of your garbage. Why did you even come on this trip? We haven't been in the same room together in months. What makes you so — so vengeful — that you had to come here with me and ruin the only vacation I've had in years? Just what is your problem, exactly? Don't those friends of yours make you happy? Or, do they hate you as much as I do?"

The white-hot fury in Monica's eyes faded, and she saw Jessica again standing there, a shocked and disbelieving look on her face. Instantly, Monica regretted what she'd said. Nothing would be the same for the long days that were sure to follow.

"Well," Jessica said, curtly. "I think I'm ready to go on now." Jessica hitched her bag over her back and walked off in the direction of the other village. Monica was tempted to turn around. Instead, she followed.

She didn't want to apologise — that was the last thing she wanted to do — but she had to say something.

"I didn't mean that, Jessica. Please, stop for a minute." But instead the woman kept walking, pushing through heavy vegetation. The trees blocked sight of anything before them beyond a few hundred metres. "Jessica, please. Just talk to me."

"There's nothing more to say. I know how you feel now. But I'm not going to let it ruin things. I've spent money on this trip, too, if you'll remember — money that doesn't come as easily for me — and I thought I spent it so we could spend time together like we used to. I suppose I should have realized you were going to be like this."

"Be like what?"

"You know."

But Monica didn't. And Jessica wouldn't tell her.

They walked in silence for a few minutes more, until they stepped through a wall of vegetation that was blocking their path and, out of nowhere, found themselves in the centre of the other village. The place was surrounded by dense southern jungle and ocean, and it was amazing how much it looked like the village they had landed in, right down to the wooden walls and grey slate roofs. Yet, there was no one on the streets or in the windows there. The empty village had a feel to it that Monica couldn't quite understand, as though it were full of hiding people ready to pounce.

"Do you think this place is really deserted?"

"What do you care?"

Tables were laid out exactly as in the village on the other shore, though no products were upon them. Monica saw shadows moving behind the windows of the small houses that she was sure weren't cast by people, but they moved so fast it was hard to tell.

"What-?" she started, but Jessica hushed her.

"Do you hear that? It sounds almost like someone crying."

Monica didn't hear anything. She didn't even hear the birds she knew had to be close by.

She shivered, despite the humidity that weighed the air down, yet couldn't quite put her finger on what was wrong. Something in the back of her memory tried to wriggle away, some shadow that should never see the light.

"Jessica, let's go back now."

"No. I'm not ready." And she walked farther in, investigating the buildings. Monica stood where she was, absently fidgeting with her necklace. She could see greyish rocks on the ground, more of the shingles that roofed the houses, and she picked one up. Imprinted upon it, barely visible in the fading light, was the fossil of some ancient creature as wide as her hand. Its tiny ribs made grooves in the shingle, and its head a rough circle. She saw what looked like a wing, though folded over upon itself until it was only a series of lines. She dropped the piece to the ground and it shattered. She brushed the dust off her hands and then looked up.

Jessica was gone.

Monica called out for her repeatedly as she walked the edge of the village, but there was no answer. In the windows shadows moved, and for a moment she thought she saw a child's face, small and round, pressed against the glass, but it disappeared so quickly the image blurred in her memory. Monica called Jessica's name again.

She didn't know what to do but wait. She walked up to one of the empty tables and sat down. Surely there was no reason to worry — Jessica must be punishing her for what she'd said, but she couldn't ignore Monica forever. Eventually, she would have to show herself, if for no other reason than to return to the ship. Monica checked her watch. It was already past four o'clock.

"We don't have much time left," she yelled, and something responded with a noise that couldn't have been whimpering. She stood. Had there always been shutters on so many of the village windows? She couldn't recall, but things looked different from how they had previously. She checked her watch again, and though only a few minutes had passed, already the sky was losing its light. She looked up. Clouds had gathered, racing to cover the sun. She wondered if a storm was coming.

"Jessica! Where are you?"

Still, there was no answer. She looked at her watch again, not knowing what to do. Shadows of the clouds overhead surrounded her, and as she looked at their pattern there came a noise from within the trees, a noise that sounded like a cry, and Monica realized with cold anger what had happened.

Jessica had left without her.

Jessica, the woman who was supposed to be her oldest friend, had left her alone in the abandoned village while she returned to the ship that had brought them to the island. What was she doing? Did she think she could leave Monica behind, like a piece of refuse? Abandon her on an island where she didn't even speak the language? Monica started to run, eager to catch up with Jessica. She couldn't have travelled far, after all. Not with the weight she was carrying.

At first, Monica thought she heard footsteps ahead of her, Jessica's footsteps as she ran to keep ahead, but soon the echoes multiplied, until it sounded like many running with her towards the ship. With each step she felt the plants wrapping around her feet, like the fingers of many hands clawing at her as they gave chase. Yet, at no point did she actually see Jessica. After a few minutes Monica had to slow to catch her breath, and though the air continued to race by her, none of it wanted to fill her lungs. She gasped, trying to get her breath back, and for a moment forgot about Jessica and her betrayal. Monica panted, her hands on her knees, waiting for the stars in her eyes to clear.

The storm clouds were turning the sky into night, and the path became more difficult to follow, but it didn't matter. The island was small, and Monica knew as long as she headed straight ahead, she would end up where she needed to be.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead. Why was she running? Jessica's plan had failed, Monica still had time to reach the ship, and when she did she would give the heavy woman a piece of her mind. What she had said before would seem gentle compared to what was coming. Monica's whole body felt flush with anger, her skin so hot it was blistering. Even the stones around her neck had become like fiery coals, searing into her flesh. She stormed forward for the final confrontation.

But when she reached the village, Jessica wasn't to be seen.

At the small set of tables, Captain Lethes sat with his crew, a sweating drink in his hand. He looked up as the confused Monica returned, and he stood to meet her. Behind him his crew also stood, but then ran with a light jog towards the ship.

"Are you okay?" the captain asked her, looking her over. "Where's your friend?"

"I–I thought she would be here already. She should have been right in front of me."

He nodded. Then nodded again. The other passengers who had come to the island had started lining up by the ship when the crew returned to it. Monica looked at their pale lost faces, but none of them were Jessica.

"We have to wait for her. I think — " She paused for a moment, unsure of what she wanted to say. "-I think I must have left her back there someplace."

"It's okay, it's okay. Don't worry. We won't leave without her. But we can't just stand here waiting. I have other passengers I have to worry about, too. We have to be ready to leave when she arrives. You can wait here if you'd like, but you'll probably be more comfortable on the ship."

She looked behind her, back at the path she had just come from, and was unsure of what to do. It was getting so hard to think. She rubbed the sweat off her brow again.

"Okay, but we won't leave without her, right?"

"Of course not." He smiled reassuringly and led her back to the ship.

She stood on the deck, looking back at the island as the other passengers boarded. She was still quite tired from running, and underneath the heat she found her mind becoming muddled.

She watched the trees though, watched them swaying underneath the wind as though shaken by hundreds of hands, all trying to get her attention. But why they'd want her attention, she wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of anything anymore except that she was looking forward to getting back to the mainland, back to her tour group. It was silly, in hindsight, to have left it for a trip to the island, but she didn't think she regretted it. It was good to do different things on a vacation, and she wasn't sure if that was something she'd really understood until that moment. Perhaps the rest of her vacation would improve now that she had uncovered the secret to enjoying it. Already, she felt better.

When the crew had finished unmooring the ship and the vibrations of the engine were making the deck hum underfoot, Captain Lethes came down to stand with Monica as they pulled away from the island.

"You were right about that village," she said to him, as she watched the people on the island getting smaller. "I'm glad I saw it, but I can't imagine ever wanting to go back to it."

"True. Still, it looks like it's done you some good."

She smiled, and played with the stones around her neck. Their dark brown colour stood out in contrast against her pale skin, yet they seemed strangely cool under her fingers.

"I can't remember why I was so miserable before we arrived. I suppose we all need to put our troubles behind us sometimes. Oh look!" she said, pointing. "There's someone waving goodbye to us from the island."

She lifted her arm high and waved happily back at the shrinking figure.

"Goodbye!" she cried out.