In Laymon's Terms

He heard what could only be laughter coming from somewhere within the house as another shot blasted through the night. He didn’t stop to see where the bullet landed. He eased the two large sliding barn doors open and pushed himself inside, still clutching on to his brother’s trembling body. He then pulled the doors shut as fast as he could as another blast burst into the night, to find himself standing in the blueish darkness of the barn.

Those bastards! They had made it to his barn. As he saw the little monsters disappear within the old building, seeking shelter from his bullets, he couldn’t help the irritation that seeped through his veins. The anger was boiling deep inside him by then, like an overflowing witch’s brew ready to explode. They wouldn’t get away from him. Not this time. He was done with those little things. He would put an end to all of this nonsense right this minute.

Tonight, it all ended.

Placing his gun over his shoulder, he walked out of his room, ran down the stairs and walked out of the house.

They wouldn’t get away from him this time around.

Mark looked at his brother’s terrified face with concern. “You okay, squirt? You hurt?”

Slowly, Billy shook his head no. Tears welled in his brother’s frightened eyes, forming two large pools of salty water that were just about ready to overflow. A confused expression shrouded his face.

“I want to go home, Mark.”

“So do I. But that crazy man’s out there and he’s shooting at us. We’ll just have to wait in here for a little while.”

“What if he comes here to get us?”

That question was the only thing on his mind as he placed a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, a desperate attempt at bringing him comfort. It is hard, however, to console someone when you’re in desperate need of it yourself. As he sat next to Billy, his body mimicking his brother’s trembling, Mark feared that he’d never get out of this place alive. This barn, this—

For the first time, he willed himself to look at the things that surrounded him. The old barn was nearly in ruins; the wood had rotted through in various places, creating tiny fissures through which the moonlight seeped in. And thanks to those rays of soft blue light, he could see all the small things that sullied the cracked cement floor. They looked to him like minute white sticks at first, though the more he looked at them, the more his opinion changed. These weren’t sticks. Through the shadows, he recognized their shape: not sticks, but bones. Hundreds of small, white bones.

For a brief moment, the fear that swooned within him was so great that he thought his heart had stopped beating. A swelling shiver of terror swept through his whole body. Tears stung his eyes once more. So Tommy had told him the truth after all. Tommy and his big mouth! He was the reason they were trapped in here with this madman shooting at them. He hadn’t believed his friend’s story since Tommy was prone to embellish the truth a little to entertain his friends with his wild stories. Everything that flowed out of that boy’s mouth was colored with lies. The desire to prove his friend a liar had been too great to ignore, though now that he was faced with the brutal truth, now that he found himself surrounded with all those chalky-white bones, Mark wished Tommy would have kept his big trap shut. If he had, then none of this would have happened. They’d be back home, in their tree house, far away from this place, happily dreaming the night away.

A part of him wanted to get up and walk to those bones to take a better look at them. He needed to know if they were human or if they were animal. He knew little about bones and didn’t know if he’d really be able to differentiate the two. But he needed to try nonetheless.

Billy turned around and looked at him straight in the eyes, compelling him to remember that he wasn’t alone in this place. He couldn’t let his brother see those bones. He wouldn’t let his brother get even more frightened.

“What’s wrong, Mark?”

“Nothing at all. Everything’s fine. Just fine.” Although his own mouth had spoken those words, he found it very hard to believe them. Things weren’t fine. They were both drowning with fear, terrified by what they had just gone through and even more frightened of what was to come.