The Devil Crept In: A Novel
By Ania Ahlborn
3.5/5
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About this ebook
Young Jude Brighton has been missing for three days, and while the search for him is in full swing in the small town of Deer Valley, Oregon, the locals are starting to lose hope. They’re well aware that the first forty-eight hours are critical and after that, the odds usually point to a worst-case scenario. And despite Stevie Clark’s youth, he knows that, too; he’s seen the cop shows. He knows what each ticking moment may mean for Jude, his cousin and best friend.
That, and there was that boy, Max Larsen...the one from years ago, found dead after also disappearing under mysterious circumstances. And then there were the animals: pets gone missing out of yards. For years, the residents of Deer Valley have murmured about these unsolved crimes…and that a killer may still be lurking around their quiet town. Now, fear is reborn—and for Stevie, who is determined to find out what really happened to Jude, the awful truth may be too horrifying to imagine.
Ania Ahlborn
Ania Ahlborn is the bestselling author of the horror thrillers Brother, Within These Walls, The Bird Eater, The Shuddering, The Neighbors, and Seed, and the novellas The Pretty Ones and I Call Upon Thee. Born in Ciechanow, Poland, she lives in South Carolina with her husband and their dog. Visit AniaAhlborn.com or follow the author on Facebook and Twitter @AniaAhlbornAuthor.
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Reviews for The Devil Crept In
221 ratings30 reviews
What our readers think
Readers find this title to be a mix of opinions. Some describe it as a convoluted and depressing read with unlikable characters, while others find it terrifying and breathtaking. The story is imaginative and creepy, keeping readers engaged until the end. However, there are negative reviews mentioning a lackluster ending, tediousness, and unanswered questions. Overall, the book receives mixed reviews, but those who enjoy horror and suspense may find it worth a read.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5I received an ARC of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. This did not affect my opinion of the book or my review itself.Stevie is a kid no one takes seriously. Even his own family thinks he is imagining things. But when his cousin Jude goes missing, Stevie knows Jude is in serious trouble, and that his disappearance has ties to the body of another young boy found years agoThis is a creepy book! It's got some seriously scary small town secrets from the past horror going on.Ahiborn does a great job of executing twists and turns. I never felt like I knew where the story was going or what was going to happen.This kept me hooked, and kept me reading.It was hard to find a character to like in this novel, which I do definitely think was something Ahiborn did on purpose. Everyone is sad, and troubled, and beaten down by life and circumstances, and no one acts the way you want them to. (I did sympathize with Stevie, but found it hard to connect with him.) This is not necessarily a negative, but the book was so dark on top of this, it was hard to find any sign of light.This is one of those books that leaves me not entirely sure how I feel about it. I sometimes struggled with it because it was so dark, but there was also something about it that kept me hooked, and made me keep reading. I finished this book in about two days, which definitely says something. I had to know what was going to happen.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5I found this book to be a very typical horror with expected results.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I loved this book. Could not put it down! Had no idea what the ending would bring. Still spooked!
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This was a fun and engaging read! The end leaves a few threads loose, but all in all it was a good book!
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5So freaking good. Needs to be a movie!! Best creepy I've read in awhile. And the ending was outstanding!
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5This book left me with a lot of unsatisfying feelings, like when you watch on e of those video where the ending is purposely cut out to make you angry. I liked Stevie (more than other Ahlborg characters, who usually are pretty dislikable and annoying). The book was ok in comparison to others she wrote, too many holes though and the ending is really rushed out, so much that you cannot even create your own explanation on what actually happened.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5This book pulled me in and kept me in its grasp till the very end. I loved how creepy it was, after having read so many books I kind of had a feeling on how it would end but I loved it and I’m glad I read it
- Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5If you like spending hundreds of pages waiting for someone to torture a cat, this is the book for you. Pointless, nasty, badly-paced.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This book was an interesting read I must say... Its hard to write a review for as its quite far fetched and you use your imagination alot and just read and try to work it all out... It was a really imaginative story lol... But it kept you reading all the same to find out more... Its completely different to the other book I read by this author... I did not enjoy it quite so much but its worth a read... Mainly about 2 cousins who live next door to each and other and always hang around together until they stumble on an old house deep in the woods and then there lives change forever... The ending was strange because i don't know what was meant to have really happened and what was all in young Stevies mind... This is a 4 star read from me ??????
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5Exercise in frustration, 150 pages too long, perpetuated by intensely annoying and cliched characters. Author chose a completely unsympathetic protagonist -- Stevie, a pseudo-schizophrenic 5th grader who thinks and talks (and talks and TALKS) like someone suffering from a severe form of Tourette's Syndrome... all his thoughts and attempts at communication are just spates of behavioural tics and verbal garble. As a point-of-view character, he's beyond exasperating!
He's also being regularly beaten by his caricature abusive step-father and simultaneously indulged AND neglected by his equally-caricatured pathetic mother, who drove off the protagonist's father with her vehement refusal to allow counselling for their obviously-disturbed son. And Stevie's best-and-only-friend-in-the-whole-wide-world is his behaviourally-disturbed cousin Jude, who lives next door and acts out "because he can't come to terms with his father's death". Stevie's mother and Jude's mother are supposed to be sisters, but they're functionally the same hapless, pointless character written twice. Oh, and Stevie has an older brother, Duncan; he has a girlfriend and largely ignores Stevie -- and that's pretty much all there is to know about him.
There's a dreadful mutant monster lurking in the woods that transforms wild animals and runaway pets -- and sometimes (ooh) PEOPLE! -- into its servitors, to help it lure in and devour local children. Said monster -- Otto -- is the deformed, animalistic son of a reclusive widow, Rosamund. SHE is wracked by such absurdly-exaggerated social anxiety/phobia that it seems inconceivable she'd ever have married, much less survived long enough after her husband's death to give birth in the first place, and the author feels the need to subject readers to endless, dreary pages describing the wretched woman's apathy and misery. If it's an attempt to build reader sympathy for or empathy with the character, it misfires terribly; Rosamund is so utterly pathetic, so ridiculously lacking in agency, that she ends up being actively disgusting.
Otto the Monster might hold the seeds of a promising character, but the author makes no attempt to develop them, or him. Otto is monstrous and bestial, but he's apparently capable of shrewd planning and predictive behaviour. He's non-verbal, but capable of communicating his wants. He's also only about 12 years old; his mother Rosamund has isolated, imprisoned, neglected and abandoned him by turns, creating a setup so extreme it becomes thoroughly absurd long before our hero ever meets the monster.
Oh, and apparently Otto's REAL father is some sort of immortal demonic entity, so that justifies Otto's immense semi-mystical abilites.
The mechanics of the writing aren't bad and the concept of spreading corruption as semi-supernatural contagion is an interesting one, but the characters are abysmally-badly written and poorly-chosen; the entire work needs to be edited to two-thirds of its length. - Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5This book couldn't keep me focused and interested. It's probably just me.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A little convoluted, after reading spoilers online, I finally had a concrete answers to all the what the hell? questions that arose.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Great imagery, amazing build up, and a lackluster ending. The story and characters really draw you in, but the ending left me disappointed.
- Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5It took me forever to finish this. I kept finding excuses to do anything else. I've loved a lot of Ania's other books, so it was a surprise to me that this one was such a miss. I agree with the other 1 and 2 star reviews that it was tedious and left too many questions to answer, and not in a fun "this story has an ambiguous ending" kind of way, which I normally love. There was a lot more that needed fleshed out with Rosie's story and *spoilers ahead* I was left annoyed by the fact that she never, throughout several decades, put together that Otto might not have been Ansel's.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I enjoyed this book overall. It was a rather slow starting book for me and I had a hard time really getting into the story at first. The whole first part of the book just didn't do a lot for me. The second section of the book picked up a bit and I found myself really getting interested. By the time, I got to the third part of the book, I was hooked and I couldn't wait to see how everything would come together. Stevie is a 10 year old boy living with his mom, step-dad, and brother, Dunk. He lives next door to his best friend, Jude, who is also his cousin. Jude is missing at the opening of the book and Stevie wants everyone to look for him a bit harder than they are. He decides to do his own detective work and does a little investigating of his own.Everyone is searching the wood of Deer Creek for Jude. Jude and Stevie have always spent a lot of time in the woods, building forts and looking at that spooky house by the logging road. There always seems to be a lot of stray animals in and around the woods as well. In fact, all of the animals in Deer Creek seem to be in the woods instead of neighborhood homes and backyards. A large portion of this book is told from Stevie's point of view. Stevie is young, scared, and confused by the things that are happening. He has echolalia which means that his speech patterns tend to have a lot of repetition. I think that the author did a fantastic job of showing how hard it was for Stevie to be taken seriously and get his thoughts out. Stevie is not a character that I ever really liked. I felt bad for him with his speech difficulties but I became tired of reading his repetitive speech. I would recommend this book to anyone who enjoys a creepy story. This is the second book by Ania Ahlborn that I have read and while I didn't like it nearly as much as I enjoyed Brother, I found it to be a solid story. I can't wait to read more of this author's work soon.I received an advance reader edition of this book from Gallery, Threshold, Pocket Books via NetGalley.
1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5Can't believe I just read this mess. 370 pages of pure crap. Stopped reading at the epilogue .can't think of one good thing to say about it.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Jude Brighton is a tough and fearless twelve-year-old boy who goes missing from his small town of Deer Valley, Oregon. Seen as a trouble-maker, the residents believe Jude simply ran away. Stevie Clark is Jude's best friend, younger cousin and neighbour and he is determined to find out what happened to him. He begins investigating things himself. But no one really listens to Stevie or takes him seriously. Even when he unravels the mystery of Deer Valley's missing pets and even the other young boy who disappeared years ago but was later found dead; even when he uncovers a terrible secret that has been kept hidden for years.
This is told in three parts. I did not like the second part or that storyline. The only reason this book got three stars from me was because of the epilogue. I really, really liked that epilogue! I also liked the setting - a quiet town with a big, spooky house way in the woods. And poor Stevie, how could someone not like Stevie?1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5Summer is here and my summer childhood memories have a lot of ‘wandering through the woods’ in them. My childhood home was near a wooded area along the Mississippi River, and my sister and I would wander down to a secret waterfall and to the banks of the river. So there is something a bit familiar about a story that involves children spending their time exploring in the woods. I’m thankful that nothing bad ever happened to us while on our adventures, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy reading about bad things happening to other people in the woods! So I was very interested when I heard about “The Devil Crept In” by Ania Ahlborn. Kids disappearing in a forest that holds many secrets? Oh hell yeah, I’ll read that, I’ll read the HELL out of that!But I think that the ultimate problem I had with this book was that it kind of had two stories going on, and though they sort of connected, there were too many questions left behind for both of them. To really review this, I’m going to go into spoilers for this book, so that’s a warning to you all who may want to read it. And for posterity… SPOILER ALERT. Our first story is the one that is put in the description of the book. You have Stevie, an awkward and lonely ten year old in a fraught home life. His older brother Duncan is a bully, his Mom doesn’t really understand him, and his stepfather Terry is abusive and cruel. His only friend is his cousin Jude, who has problems and behavioral issues of his own, as he’s carried quite a bit of rage in him since his father died. When Jude disappears, Stevie is obsessed with finding him, even if he’s heard stories and rumors about the woods and those who have disappeared before. Specifically a young boy named Max, who disappeared and whose body was found weeks later. While those around him want to believe that Jude just ran away, Stevie thinks that the weird shadow he’s seen in the woods, especially around an old abandoned house, is the real answer to Jude’s disappearance.The second story involves that house. A woman named Rosie lives there. Years before she was married to a doctor, and she desperately wanted children, but couldn’t carry a pregnancy to term. After a traumatic miscarriage, she drove down to Big Sur in a tizzy, and met a strange biker hippie named Ras. He asked her what she would do to have a baby. And she said “Anything.” (world's biggest mistake). After she goes home, shortly thereafter her husband dies in a car accident. Shortly thereafter, she discovers she’s pregnant. For whatever reason that I didn’t think was properly fleshed out or explored beyond “I already am anxious around people and how mortifying to be a pregnant widow!”, she stays isolated in her cabin the woods and basically gives birth to a monster, who likes to eat flesh and blood. She names him Otto, and is perfectly fine with the fact he grows up eating cats, dogs, stray animals, and then….. Max Larsen.So you see where this is all going. Jude disappears because he falls into the thrall of Rosie and Otto. But he isn’t killed by Otto, and when he gets home, he keeps hearing the siren’s call to go back and be with them. So there is a connection between story one and story two. And I loved that I could see the woods and the atmosphere, as well as the creepy shadows out in the trees or on the porch or through the window. That is the kind of creep that I live for. But boy oh boy, do I have so many questions that are never explained or answered. Sometimes this is okay. But in this case, t’s done in a way that comes off as less ambiguous and more forgotten about. My biggest issue is that Ras storyline. Ras plays such an important role in this book for obvious reasons, but he we don’t get any answers about him. What is he? What are his motivations? Is he the Devil? Is he a servant of the Devil? How does he keep track and tabs on Otto and Rosie (because it is implied near the end that he does), is it because he’s magic? I don’t necessarily need all the answers about this guy, but I would like a little more to him as opposed to just being a super convenient plot device! There is also some ambiguity at the end, which I WILL keep under wraps because it’s relevant to the endgame, that didn’t quite sit well with me. I had a hard time figuring out if it was the case of an unreliable narrator, or a magical system that was at play, or people unable to believe or accept the things they see. And also, WHY is it that Jude seems to be able to be possessed by Otto all of a sudden? So now Otto can astral project? It was a lot of mythos that didn’t have much rhyme or reason, and only worked because it needed to work for the story to progress.Also, I had a hard time with the characters and their personalities. I understand that our protagonist and his family are flawed and have all had hard lives, but for a horror story to be very effective you need to care about the characters to some extent. If you don’t, you won’t be afraid for them. I was afraid for Stevie, because he was pretty sympathetic, but everyone else was pretty cardboard cut out antagonistic (always fun to see the evil stepdad knocking kids around, or the mean older brother hurling anti-Semitic comments here and there) or simpering (Stevie’s Mom and Aunt Mandy are understandably passive, but it was hard to deal with when their passivity leads to their kids being hurt). I basically was just waiting for them all to have horrible things happen to them so I could move onto the next moment, and then onto the next story. Which isn’t how I want to feel when getting to the end of a horror novel.“The Devil Crept In” had promise, but it didn’t live up to my expectations. I’m not looking at the woods I can see through my kitchen window and feeling afraid, so you know it didn’t bring the scares. I’ll stick to “Disappearance at Devil’s Rock” if I want lost child and scary nature fiction.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Jude Brighton is missing, and only his ten-year-old cousin, Stevie, seems concerned. Most of the town regards Jude as merely trouble, and write him off as a likely runaway. But Jude isn’t the first disappearance from the small town of Deer Valley, Oregon. Pets have long gone missing from backyards, and years ago another young boy went missing, found weeks later torn to pieces . . . The adults in town seem determined to avoid thinking about these mysteries, and it seems that Stevie may have to take matters into his own hands.It has been a while since I’ve read a true horror novel, and I came away from The Devil Crept In with a renewed love of the genre. Ahlborn has an excellent sense of suspense, and fills the narrative with enough background menace to keep the reader on edge throughout the book.In addition, Stevie, our narrator, seems to be suffering from some schizophreniform disorder, adding a delicious uncertainty to everything about the book. Stevie is the ultimate unreliable narrator, and we can never be sure if the things that happen are real, or a product of his mental illness.Ahlborn is a rare female voice in a genre nearly completely dominated by men. Fans of Stephen King, Nick Cutter, Joe Hill and other giants of the genre would do well to read her work. Ahlborn is clearly able to set her own bloody stake near the top of the hill of horror writers.
1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Slow at first but gradually became an spooky story. I knew something bad would happen for sure just waiting for the best timing.
1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5Tedious to read. The author takes a bunch of standard horror tropes and fails to do anything entertaining with them.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5The devil crept in is no joke. This is a horrific tale of two cousins and how their lives were affected by a creature from the pits of hell. I am not a horror genre aficionado but I do enjoy the occasional pulse pounding suspense that comes from reading a good horror book. This book delivered that as well as a side of gore.The book is divided into three parts and I liked that a lot. At the end of a part you can take a minute to digest what you have already learned before moving on to another part of the story. The story itself is told from alternating points of view with the main POV being from Stevie. His character is ten years old and his cousin Jude is the best part of his world. What this kid deals with in his real life is pretty sad.Jude is a hot mess. The kid has major anger issues and he is not all that kind to Stevie. Still, he treats Stevie better than everyone else. Learning about their adventures and plans together was endearing. I wanted them to have everything that they dreamed about. To see the transformation that took place in Jude was horrible. I kept hoping for a turnaround or that together Jude and Stevie would be able to overcome the situation but it was not in the cards.The secret that is uncovered in this story is too freaking creepy and horrifying. The scenes where we learn about what the secret is, how it came to be, and the mother involved in keeping the secret were just macabre. Almost to the point of unimaginable but at the same time you really feel for the mother. She is so mentally unhealthy but she did what she did out of a twisted love and sense of duty.What a story is all I can say! If you enjoy Stephen King’s style of writing (child-centered), then this story should resonate with you. I like the endings of a story to have some form of triumph but this ending was sad to say, realistic, and so, so sad for Stevie. I wanted so much more for this character. If you are looking for a twisted, revolting, and sinister read then I highly recommend this book to you.This review is based on a complimentary book I received from NetGalley. It is an honest and voluntary review. The complimentary receipt of it in no way affected my review or rating.
2 people found this helpful
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5
breathtaking! a masterpiece. If you have some great stories like this one, you can publish it on Novel Star, just submit your story to [email protected] or [email protected] - Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This is a very well written book that pulls its readers right into the story! If you have some great stories like this one, you can publish it on Novel Star, just submit your story to [email protected] or [email protected]
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Although I can eat paranormal novels for 3 meals a day, I am not so much a fan of real horror. Not in books or movies. Something about the description of this one caught and held my attention so I thought I’d give it a try. Before I knew it I had read half the book and was looking forward…no, I was compelled…to read the rest. The story was just unbelievable enough to make you wonder if maybe there could be a smidgen of truth in it…and that in itself was horrifying. Stevie was the only character in the entire story that was remotely likable…the others you just wished that the monster would have them for midnight snacks. I guess I would have to say that the book was interesting, entertaining and 100% horrifying. A worthy recipient of the 4 stars.
1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5spoilers ahead
i did not love this book, unfortunately. while i have loved Ahlborn’s other works, this one just.. missed the mark for me. i was left with a lot of questions and not many answers. i wish there had been more focus on *what* this “thing” was, and more of its origin. i find it hard to believe that Rosie just happened to stumble into hell’s cutest bnb hosted by a demon trying to impregnate the weak and needy. also fuck terry. he should’ve died.1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Terrifying novel. Loved it!!! Will recommend to all my friends. If you have some great stories like this one, you can publish it on Novel Star, just submit your story to [email protected] or [email protected]
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Creepy and good with a nice twist at the end. Love the unreliable narrator, they take you on a twisted ride.
1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5It is hard to like a book that doesn’t have a single likable character. If you’re not depressed when you start reading this book, you will be during and after reading it. This book is the worst book I’ve ever tried to read. About a third of the way in, I just wanted it to be done. Because of my own curious nature, I skipped ahead to the last few chapters just to see how it all ended. The book definitely didn’t get better. The ending was just as horrible as the beginning.
1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Stevie and his older cousin Jude are best friends. They hang out with each other because they don't have any other friends. Even though Jude can sometimes be unpredictable, Stevie cares about his cousin. When Jude suddenly disappears he knows something bad must have happened and he starts looking for clues in a frantic way. There's a search, but nobody is trying very hard, because of their dislike for Jude. Stevie suspects something sinister is going on. His cousin wouldn't run away. Something strange is happening in the town. People can never keep their pets, they always want to be elsewhere and end up somewhere in the forest. Is Jude there too?
A little boy went missing several years ago in Stevie's town. He was later found dead and nobody could solve the mystery around his murder. However, someone knows what happened to him. Is there a connection to Jude's disappearance? There's only one person in town who's willing to answer Stevie's questions. Will Stevie eventually discover the truth and when he does, is there a chance his cousin can be saved or is it too late for Jude?
The Devil Crept In is a fantastic creepy story. Stevie is a lonely boy. He doesn't get any love from the people around him and Jude is the only one he's close to. Even Jude doesn't always treat him well. Stevie is sad about his life, but he's also determined to do something about his circumstances, to stand up for himself. Stevie is struggling with some mental issues and that makes him a fabulous unreliable narrator. Not exactly knowing what was going on kept me on the edge of my seat.
Ania Ahlborn tells her story in three parts and two of them are about Stevie and his cousin. The second part is about something that shocked me to the core. I was completely spellbound by the way the story progresses and even though I kept wanting to stop reading because of the frightfulness of the subject matter I couldn't put it down and had to keep going to see where it would lead. I was captivated from beginning to end and incredibly spooked.
The Devil Crept in has everything a good horror story should have. There are scary shadowy creatures, there's plenty of mysterious darkness, there are inexplicable evils and there's a good enigmatic disappearance. Ania Ahlborn's writing is amazing and I was definitely impressed by the way she builds her tension. I was completely blown away by this book and highly recommend it.1 person found this helpful
Book preview
The Devil Crept In - Ania Ahlborn
PART ONE
1
JUDE BRIGHTON WAS missing. Stevie Clark stood at the edge of the woods, his small hands clasped together, watching people comb the trees for his friend.
Jude had disappeared that Sunday, after he and Stevie had spent hours ransacking the backs of buildings for broken two-by-fours. Their fort was almost complete. All it needed was a couple more boards and a replacement set of ladder stairs. The ones they’d nailed to the tree trunk were treacherous, like climbing up Sauron’s tower. But they both liked the danger—clinging to splintery planks with their bare hands, comparing scratches and scrapes once they got to the top, nearly breaking their necks climbing down from the turret every single time. Because Life is no fun without the risk, said Jude. And if Stevie knew anyone who sought out peril, it was definitely his cousin. His best friend. Now vanished like a ghost.
Stevie had been sitting on the couch, watching TV, when his aunt Amanda knocked on the front door. Is Jude here?
she’d asked, wearing her usual glass-fragile smile. But there was something in her voice that put Stevie on edge, something festering, like a scourge. It’s time to come home,
she said. Dinner is in the oven.
Stevie loved his aunt Mandy. She was a pretty lady despite her exaggerated features. Her face was long and her eyes were huge. She’s got a horse face, his stepdad, Terry, had guffawed. Horse face Brighton. We should enter her in the Kentucky Derby and win us some dough. Terry Marks was a giant asshole. Stevie hated him, probably more than he hated anyone on earth.
And yet, despite loathing The Tyrant
for being such a dick, Stevie occasionally found himself resenting his mother even more; partly because she didn’t defend Aunt Mandy when Terry insulted her, but mostly because she let him detonate their lives. She’d worn a black eye for the better part of two weeks once. Walked right into the corner of the kitchen cabinet, she had said, laughing. I swear, if my head wasn’t screwed on . . . You know how it goes. Yeah, Stevie knew. The whole town knew, despite the ruse.
It was why Aunt Mandy was on edge whenever she came over. Terry wasn’t exactly what you’d call hospitable. It was a wonder she let Jude play at Stevie’s house at all. Luckily, she did, because her house gave Stevie a headache. It smelled pink, like flowers. That, and he was pretty sure there was a snake living in her toilet. He’d seen it, regardless of whether or not Jude swore he had imagined the whole thing.
He’s not here, nope,
Stevie said.
The fact that Jude hadn’t come to hang out that afternoon or that he had yet to make it home didn’t seem like that big a deal. Jude played by his own rules. If he wanted to hang out in the woods all day, he would. If he felt like missing dinner, he did. There wasn’t anyone who could stop him, especially not his mom. But Aunt Mandy’s thinly veiled panic assured Stevie that, despite Jude being a rule breaker and the old saying that boys will be boys, this was much more than her son being his usual, defiant self. This was something different. Far more serious than missing a curfew. Aunt Mandy’s wavering smile fractured into a thousand shards of worry.
Do you know where he is?
she asked.
Nuh-uh.
Stevie supposed Jude could have been at the fort, but that was a long trek, one that was boring if made alone. That, and the fort was top secret. With a single park and a half-mile drag of shops making up Main Street, Deer Valley wasn’t exactly a hip and happening place. They’d spent all summer building that citadel, had discussed building another one—bigger and better—after the first was complete. They fantasized about installing a zip line fifteen feet in the air; just another way to kill themselves when they weren’t shooting foamy Nerf darts into each other’s eyes or lobbing water balloons at each other’s heads. If they were lucky, they’d locate a pipe at the scrap yard long enough to make a fireman’s pole. These were all upgrades they’d thought of after the fact, far too late to implement into their original design. Stevie wasn’t about to squeal their secret just because Aunt Mandy was a little worried about Jude being late.
For any kid other than Jude, there would have been places to suggest. He could have been hanging out at a friend’s house across town. There would have been neighboring houses to visit, parents to call. But Jude didn’t have friends. Not in the facetious He’s such a loner way, but in a genuine Nobody likes Jude Brighton way. It could be said that the only reason he’d spent hundreds of hours building a tree house with Stevie, a cousin two years his junior, was because his reputation preceded him. Kids didn’t like Stevie because he was weird, because he had fingers missing off his right hand. Their distaste for Jude was simpler: they didn’t like him because he was a jerk.
Parents, on the other hand, didn’t like Jude because he was trouble. He used words like goddamn and shit and asshole, even around adults. Once, he’d dropped an f-bomb for no reason other than to use it; just threw it out there to make conversation more colorful. Stevie had heard words like that blast through the walls of his house on the regular. His big brother, Duncan, would let an occasional curse fly. And Terry had quite the vocabulary, one he didn’t mind the whole neighborhood hearing. But Dunk was in high school and Terry was a full-grown man; Jude was only twelve. Hearing the sharp edges of that curse word come from a kid had left Stevie’s nerves fizzing like a bag of wet Pop Rocks.
Jude was tough, unforgiving. He’d been that way since his dad—Stevie’s uncle Scott—had died. Nothing scared him. Two summers ago, while playing in the creek, he had shoo’d off a snarling coyote; skinny, probably starving, ready for a midafternoon snack. But Jude just grabbed a downed branch and ran at it like he was going to skewer it through, bellowing a battle cry as he blasted toward the animal, leaving Stevie to stare wide-eyed at his ballsy brother-in-arms.
Jeez,
Stevie had said after Jude came trudging back. What if it had attacked you instead of running off?
Then it would have ended up dead instead of scared,
Jude had said, as though killing coyotes with his bare hands was no big deal. When the coyote had found them, Uncle Scott hadn’t been gone for more than a year. Jude had been ten, but his rage was big enough to fill a man twice his size.
· · ·
By the next morning, there were already rumors that Jude had up and run away, and the theory wasn’t hard to believe. Everyone knew Jude had issues. He was Deer Valley’s problem child; a menace, always getting in trouble. And Amanda Brighton wasn’t exactly a stern or assertive woman. She had tried to take Jude to therapy, but it only seemed to intensify his furor. Giving up after a couple of tries, Jude had been allowed to run wild.
More than a few times, he’d gotten busted by the cops for petty stuff like shoplifting. There were counts of vandalism and trespassing, though that infraction was just on someone’s bazillion-acre farm. The owners hadn’t posted signs to keep people out, so it was a total bogus charge, if anyone asked him. But the police, like everyone else, didn’t like Jude, so they gave him hell.
The worst of it had come when Jude was caught wielding a plank of wood—rusty nails crooked and jutting out like a medieval mace—taunting one of Deer Valley’s countless strays behind one of the Main Street shops. The sickly-looking cat had scrambled up a tree in search of safety. Meanwhile, Jude swung the two-by-four convincingly enough to have the shop owner call for help. Stevie was pretty sure Jude had only been trying to help the dumb animal down, but nobody cared about what he thought. Jude ended up with a warning for attempted animal abuse. One more slipup and he’d get full-blown probation, maybe even end up in juvie thirty miles outside of town.
Somehow, Aunt Mandy managed to talk her son out of each and every infraction. There was a lot of pleading and explaining involved. Lots of Aunt Mandy having to relive the death of her husband while telling the tale of how the loss of Jude’s dad had hit her only child hard. Assurances were made: Jude was a good boy, just lost and angry, struggling to cope with his grief. And honestly, sometimes that made Stevie mad, because he was pretty sure he’d rather have a dead dad than Terry Marks looming over his each and every move.
But this wasn’t about Stevie.
Less than an hour after Aunt Mandy left his house, the cops were next door, taking a report. Stevie had watched enough investigation shows to know the first forty-eight hours were crucial. After that, the chance of finding a kid became next to impossible. And no matter how much Jude grandstanded and wanted to believe he was an adult, he was still a kid. What Stevie’s mom referred to as an overgrown baby and his stepdad called a no-good little shit.
First thing Monday, there was a report on the early-morning news: Jude Brighton, age twelve, had taken off. To those who didn’t know him, it was as good an explanation as any. Stevie, however, knew it was a load of crap. Because Jude didn’t keep his mouth shut about anything. When he had a wise idea, Stevie was the first to know.
By that first morning, bored reporters were trying to get interviews with anyone who would talk. Stevie’s mom demanded he stay away. He watched through the windows as neighbors leaned into microphones—those people didn’t even know Jude, yet there they were, giving statements all the same. Oh, that Brighton kid. Just a whole lot of trouble, if you ask me.
Aunt Mandy was hysterical. Stevie’s mom was preoccupied with trying to keep her sister from losing her mind, and so—left to his own devices—Stevie shoved a granola bar into the back pocket of his shorts and hiked out to the fort, just to check that Jude wasn’t there. Not a single loose board or nail had been disturbed. There was no sign of him.
Pivoting to face a different direction, Stevie stared through the forest toward an altogether different destination, their other secret: the house. Did he dare? No. He turned tail and booked it back home, because that house was a place neither one of them went by themselves. Not ever. No way.
· · ·
Tuesday morning. Stevie was up with the birds, and he’d just about made it out the door when his mom caught him by the arm. Where are you going?
she asked, looking dubious as usual.
To h-help look for Jude.
But all that got him was a tug away from the front door. Nicole Clark confiscated his little spiral notebook and mechanical pencil—the stuff he used to take field notes—and slid them on top of the fridge. Unless he scaled the counter or dragged a chair across the room, he wouldn’t be able to reach them. She sat him down at the table and fixed him a Pop-Tart as though a breakfast pastry was an appropriate alternative for aiding in the search for his missing best friend. You need to stay here,
she told him. No explanation. Just a command.
But why?
Stevie asked. If he wasn’t allowed to look for Jude, he sure as heck wanted a better reason than Because I said so.
Because . . .
Terry’s voice cut through the conversation. He filled the kitchen’s doorway, his square shoulders blocking out the sun that filtered in through the front-room window. A second later, he entered the kitchen with his hulking gait. No one needs a funny-farm nutcase hanging around while they’re trying to get shit done, that’s why.
He shot Stevie a stern, reproachful look. Then again, every look seemed hateful from eyes as deep-set and narrow as The Tyrant’s. He was as ugly as he was mean with his high, shiny forehead and his sandy-brown mullet. But it was that mustache that grossed Stevie out the most—an ugly upside-down U that crawled down the sides of his mouth like a dying caterpillar.
Oh, Ter.
Stevie’s mom. Leave him alone.
Except she didn’t mean it. If The Tyrant decided to lay into Stevie then and there, she’d quietly shuffle out of the room.
Stevie looked down at his paper plate and glared at his Pop-Tart. Other than dinner, every meal was served on disposables. That’s what happened when the dishwasher broke and, no matter how much Stevie’s mom pleaded, it didn’t get fixed.
"So, if I don’t help they’ll find him faster?" That seemed pretty unlikely, especially since the cops weren’t asking many questions. Those guys hardly seemed to be worried at all.
His mom sighed. Stevie . . .
Maybe,
Terry said. And maybe if you don’t ask so many stupid fucking questions, you won’t piss me off this morning.
Terry wasn’t the least bit affected by Jude’s disappearance. He would have cared more if someone’s dog had taken a dump on their weedy front lawn. Except that nobody had dogs in Deer Valley. Cats, neither. When Stevie was younger, his mom convinced him that there were no pets around because they were germy and not allowed in town. When he deciphered that bullshit story, she explained that, after the incident
with Dunk’s dog, there would be no more pets for the Clarks, end of story. She never did elaborate on what that incident had been.
Stevie glared at his plate, then dared to look up at his mother. Of course, her back was turned. She was busying herself at the counter, as though not hearing a word of his and Terry’s exchange.
He sat there, unmoving, until The Tyrant gulped his instant coffee and scarfed down the doughnut in front of him—glazed chocolate that made Stevie think of a crumbly old tractor tire. He kept his eyes averted, silently ticking off the seconds inside his head—one, two, ten—until his stepdad pushed away from the table and stepped up to the counter where Stevie’s mom continued to loom. Stevie didn’t look, but the sounds coming from next to the sink accompanied the pictures in his head: Terry pressing himself against his mom’s backside, his giant block-like hands gripping her hips, jerking her backward toward his crotch. Sometimes, he’d slide his hand down her front and between her legs as she stood frozen and unresponsive, like perhaps she was scared or even secretly grossed out. And then, without so much as a good-bye, Terry Marks detached himself from Stevie’s mother like a pilot fish releasing a shark, grabbed the keys to his giant pickup, and left.
Dunk liked to say that Terry’s truck was big because his dick was small.
Stevie didn’t want to know a damn thing about that. All he knew was that he sometimes thought about sabotaging his stepdad’s stupid truck or poisoning his food, but had yet to go through with any of those grand, homicidal plans. Because that was the thing about Stevie. He was a chicken shit. A pain in the ass who had tough thoughts but did nothing in the end.
I know it’s hard, sweetheart.
His mom’s voice cut through the stifling silence that Terry had left in his wake. Her uncanny ability to pretend as though Terry existed in some parallel universe never failed to creep him out. One second, she was being mounted by a horndog, and the next she was asking Stevie if he wanted grilled cheese for lunch, as though pet names like sweetheart and honey made up for the fact that she let a grown man beat on her and her kids.
But that was the thing about Terry: he had a decent paying job. And ever since Stevie’s real dad had bailed, bills were hard to pay.
I know you’re really interested in all this investigation stuff,
his mom was now saying, but just sit tight.
Stevie almost scoffed at her reasoning. Yeah. Sure. He wanted to go look for Jude because he was into investigation stuff,
not because Jude was his only friend; a friend who very likely could have been lying dead in the forest somewhere.
The police will find him,
she said. He’ll be back by dinner.
Except Stevie didn’t believe that for a second.
Jude Brighton was gone, like he’d never existed; vanished, as though he and Stevie hadn’t spent their entire lives stomping the pavement of Main Street and living their summers in those woods. To them, the ferns were landmarks. Each bend in Cedar Creek, a compass. If someone had chased Jude through those trees, he would have outrun them. If they had dragged him deep into the wilderness, he would have broken free.
2
STEVIE STAYED IN his room all day to make his mother happy. But his thoughts veered in different directions. What if Jude really had run off? Maybe he was sitting in some seedy diner a hundred miles away, divvying out what little cash he had stolen from Aunt Mandy’s purse, waiting on a bus to take him west toward Universal Studios. He’d always wanted to go there. Disneyland, he said, is for dumb-ass babies. Universal Studios is where they’ve got Jaws and the Psycho house. It’s cool. And when it came to Jude, cool was the golden rule.
Or it could have been that Jude was the next Max Larsen. Dunk had told the tale a dozen times, probably more. A kid goes into the forest and never comes out. Two weeks later, his body is discovered. Mangled. Half-eaten. Swelling up like a balloon. The cops called it an animal attack, but everyone knew it was the work of a madman. A psychopath as bad as Albert Fish, maybe worse. A cannibal who loved the taste of kids.
And the story was true. It was on Google and everything. Dunk had showed him. The adults hardly ever mentioned the Larsen kid, as if afraid that a single utterance of that long-lost boy’s name would bring evil out from the forest that surrounded the town. But all the kids knew the story. A dead boy found on the side of the road wasn’t a secret a place as small as Deer Valley could keep, especially not from the eager ears and dark imaginations of its youth.
Stevie found it weird that none of the adults ever talked about Max Larsen, as though not bringing him up would somehow erase him from the past. Once, having evoked the name while his mom grilled chicken legs on the backyard barbecue, he watched her expression shift from benevolent to shocked. Where did you hear that name? she demanded. Was it Duncan? Is your brother telling you stupid stories again? It had, in fact, been Dunk who had laid down the gruesome tale—a fable that big brothers impart on younger siblings in hopes of birthing a wellspring of perpetual nightmares. The first time Stevie had heard it, it had been just a story, something that had happened in the past and would never be repeated again. But now he couldn’t get Dunk’s word pictures out of his head; innocuous phrases made debilitating by what they referenced. Shredded beef. Buzzing flies. Cries. Dies. Dies.
· · ·
That night, unable to sit still and driving his mother nuts, Stevie went to a movie with Dunk. The outing was a result of their mother’s pleading, probably with some sort of bribe attached—because, unless she gave Dunk some kind of incentive, or unless Dunk was swatting at the back of Stevie’s head or telling him scary stories to keep him up at night, Duncan Clark hardly acknowledged his kid brother’s existence. And despite Stevie coming unstrung over Jude, it was nice to get out. He needed it. Because his stuttering, his word salad, his rhyming problem, were starting to creep back into his brain, and that was never good.
Duncan’s girlfriend, Annie, met them at the ValleyPlex. She was pretty, and didn’t seem to care that all Dunk ever wore was basketball stuff. She didn’t even mind his stupid haircut, which was shaved on the sides with a poof of longer hair flaring out at the top like a soft-serve swirl. He was dead-set on getting a design buzzed into his hair by the end of the summer. Their mom said no way, but as one of Olympia High’s star basketball players, Dunk was determined to have all eyes on him . . . especially Annie’s, which were as big and round as the bottoms of two soda cans, like a girl in one of those Japanese cartoons.
The ValleyPlex was a whopping two-screen cinema that could afford only one mainstream flick every three months. Screen two always played stuff Stevie hadn’t heard of but made his mom and Aunt Mandy sigh like they were in love: Pretty in Pink, St. Elmo’s Fire, Say Anything . . . Whatever those were.
Inside the ValleyPlex, Stevie settled into his crummy seat—the armrest so wobbly he had to hold his drink between his knees. The cold of the cup roused phantom pain in the missing tips of the pointer and middle fingers of his right hand—both cut off at the first knuckle, ground to bits, the remnants floating around in a sewer somewhere. He curled his fingers into a fist to keep them warm and tried not to notice Dunk’s hand drifting across Annie’s leg and up her pleated skirt; tried to ignore it when she slouched and placed the empty tub of popcorn in her lap, Dunk’s right hand missing in action, his left tugging at his jeans as though his pants were suddenly way too tight. With popcorn now out of the question, Stevie tried to focus on the velociraptors—his favorite dinosaur—as they caused chaos all over Jurassic World. He almost forgot what was going on back home until Dunk kicked his sneaker as the credits rolled.
Get your ass up,
he said.
By the time they reached the parking lot, Stevie was drowning in worry once more.
When they pulled into the driveway, Dunk flattened the same right hand he’d stuffed up Annie’s skirt against Stevie’s T-shirt to keep him where he was. You didn’t see shit, did you, Sack?
Duncan gave Stevie a warning look, heavy with the promise of a brotherly beating if Stevie mentioned anything to their mom about Annie and her popcorn tub. Stevie grimaced both at the hand against his chest and his brother’s use of his least favorite nickname. Stephen Aaron Clark’s initials added up to a harmless S-A-C, until the k of his last name was tacked on to the end. That’s when Stevie became Sack, or Sackboy, or Ballsack, or Sack of Shit, or—when the threat of having his ass kicked came up—Hacky Sack.
I just saw dinosaurs,
Stevie murmured. J-just seesaw dinos . . .
He diverted his attention from his brother’s hand to the portable basketball hoop—nothing but a rusty rim and a crooked backboard inches from Dunk’s front bumper. Dunk’s future. His life.
Duncan appeared satisfied with Stevie’s answer and pulled his hand away. You gonna go look for the Jewd tomorrow?
Sack was a shitty moniker, but Jude had Stevie beat in the unfortunate nickname category. Jude wasn’t Jewish, but that didn’t matter one iota to a guy like Duncan. Sack and the Jewd, like peas in a crappy pod.
Dunk’s question threw Stevie for a loop, not only because Terry and his mom had specifically forbidden him to aid in the search for his cousin, but also because he couldn’t remember the last time Dunk had asked him a question he actually expected Stevie to answer.
Mom said I can’t,
he said.
Mom.
Dunk rolled his eyes. "Because she’s someone who should be giving out life advice. But I guess it’s for the better."
Stevie squinted at the scuffed-up knees of his jeans. He’d need a new pair soon. One squat too many and they were liable to bust like a birthday piñata. He only hoped it wouldn’t happen at school, in the cafeteria, where all the jerk-off fifth-graders would see it happen and never let him live it down. Once, a kid had tripped with his food tray and gotten mac and cheese all over the front of his shirt. It had looked a little like vomit, so that’s exactly what they called him all year long. Another kid had taken a tetherball to the face during recess, fallen backward, and wailed as blood spurted from his nose. That kid was henceforth dubbed Ballface Gusher. For how stupid the fifth-graders were, they were pretty creative when it came to being total dicks, and the last thing Stevie needed was another clever nickname. He was already Sack at home; Schizo Steve-O, Stuttering Stevie, and Screws-Loose Magoose at school.
For the better how?
Stevie asked.
You know . . ,
Dunk said. Stevie kept his eyes diverted, but he could hear the smirk in his brother’s voice. Nobody wants a loony running around the goddamn woods.
He pulled the keys out of the ignition and patted the steering wheel as if to thank his old Firebird for her service. It was a rusty heap, but Dunk loved that car. When he wasn’t shooting hoops or losing his hand up Annie’s skirt, he was nothing but a pair of legs, his top half swallowed by the engine compartment of his faithful steed. Now get out,
he said, and you better lock the door behind you or I’ll bust your goddamn face.
Stevie crawled out of the car that smelled faintly of cigarettes, French fries, and sweat, hit the lock, and slammed the door shut behind him. Dunk retreated into the house while Stevie was left staring at Jude’s place directly next door to his own. All the windows were lit up, casting long, sorrowful rectangles across an unkempt lawn. But Aunt Mandy’s yard—no matter how weedy—wasn’t nearly as bad as their own. For the great Terry Marks had a taste for collecting random crap, and his junk had spread from the backyard to the side of the house—stuff he’d find at local wrecking yards and recycling plants that he wanted to fix up and sell because Idiots will buy anything off of the Internet. Except that Terry never posted anything online and a garage sale was out of the question, too much goddamn work. So the stacks of crap just kept piling up. But now, with Jude gone, Aunt Mandy’s house looked sadder than usual, possibly even more so than Stevie’s, despite The Tyrant’s overwhelming hoard.
Aunt Mandy’s single-story Craftsman had a sagging, moss-covered roof that Stevie’s mom swore would cave in and kill both her sister and nephew one day. All it would take was a bad storm, a high wind, some hail. But Aunt Mandy didn’t have the money to fix it, and Terry sure wasn’t going to climb up there and reinforce it out of the goodness of his heart. He couldn’t be bothered to look at the dishwasher in his own kitchen, after all.
The house’s paint job was just as bad as the roof; giant white strips of the stuff peeling from the clapboard siding like dirty old bandages that had lost their stick. Aunt Mandy’s once-preened rosebushes now grew in chaotic brambles of white, fuchsia, and pink. Not so long ago, she had toyed with the idea of joining the Oregon Rose Society. She talked of entering her flowers in competitions and dreamed of winning silk ribbons and shiny trophies that she could proudly display on her mantel for everyone to see. Stevie had pictured her standing up on a stage, holding a golden two-handled cup, beaming as wide as if she’d won the million-dollar jackpot, flashbulbs lighting up her face. Pop, POP! He’d even cleared off a spot for that very photograph on his bookshelf, sure of his aunt’s destiny. But after what happened to Uncle Scott, Aunt Mandy never bothered to clip another bloom. Both houses—his and Jude’s—had been built around the same time, but Stevie’s mom managed to keep theirs in decent shape. Meanwhile, grief ruled next door.
Standing in the dark, Stevie wanted to venture over to check on his aunt. Sometimes, when Terry took to his belt and Stevie’s mom went temporarily blind, he was sure he loved Aunt Mandy more than anyone. It was yet another thing that made Stevie angry when it came to Jude acting out. Sure, Jude was upset about losing his dad, but Aunt Mandy was just as hurt. What gave Jude the right to act like an idiot, to be disrespectful, to make his mother’s life more difficult than it already was? It would have been nice to live next door where there was no danger of being cornered by an angry man; where, regardless of tragedy, there was compassion. Openheartedness. Love. It was why Stevie hoped that Jude hadn’t run away. Because if he had, man was he stupid. Dumber than a bag of rocks.
A stray cat meandered across Aunt Amanda’s front lawn, stopping in a square of window light. It was sickly looking, just like all the strays around town, of which there were many. There were more cats than dogs, but that didn’t matter. It was a perfect reason for Stevie’s mom to deny him the pet he’d always wanted anyway. Deer Valley residents had a bad habit of letting their