Coming For

He cornered me at my locker, one hand gripping the open door.

"Kelsey."

The last time he said my name was weeks ago in gym class. It was more of a shout as I lollygagged, daydreaming, on third base.

I met his gaze, fire on my face. I was still embarrassed. Boys like Justin Brecker did not associate with girls like me. "Some of the boys and I are going to the Sheldon barn tonight. You should come."

"I have to babysit my sister," I stammered.

"Bring her with."

"She's ten."

He shrugged. "I'll lend her my iPad, download Moana or something. She can chill in the car with Jordan."

"She's ten," I repeated.

"Exactly. How much trouble can a ten-year-old stir up waiting in a car?"

The invitation seemed like a ruse. I imagined arriving, and someone in a Halloween mask jumping out at me from behind the stable door. "Why are you inviting me anyway?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "You're a cool chick. I'll pick you up at five."

He closed my locked door. I had yet to retrieve my books.

When my parents left at 4:30, I repeated the babysitting rules, promised to call at bedtime, and settled in with a book while my sister colored on the floor. At 5:03, the doorbell rang. There he was, standing in a patched jean jacket, looking at least a decade older than 16. True to his word, he held an iPad in his left hand.

"Ta-da!" He held the iPad out like a peace offering. "Downloaded Moana, as promised. We'll be back in the car by the time the credits roll."

Molly looked up from her coloring page. "Can I really watch a movie?" she asked in surprise. "You never let me!"

Justin shot her a Cheshire cat grin. "We saved you a spot in the backseat." He gestured toward the waiting car.

Her smile brightened. "I'm going to bring my colors too!" With surprising speed, she was out the door and seatbelted before I stepped off the front porch.

"We have to be back by 8. If I don't facetime my parents at bedtime, they'll murder me."

He held his hands up in mock surrender. "Don't worry, kid. No one's dying tonight."

The barn was old, entirely run down, and seemingly on the verge of collapse. Since its sudden abandonment in 1961, new stories circulated every year, each more hyperbolic than the last. Local kids tried to outdo one another, spinning tales of revenge, murder, suicide. Facts like bankruptcy were far less mysterious and not worthy of rumor.

It wasn't until the car turned off at the head of the gravel road that I thought to ask, "what are we even doing here?" I had never bought into any of the stories traded at sleepovers; still, seeing the barn up close for the first time sent a cool chill through my arms and down my spine. I tried to ignore the feeling. The worn wood seemed to be smirking through its moribund lumber.

"We're proving Jordan wrong," Justin said.

His response jerked me back to attention.

Pointing to the moppy-headed boy seated behind him, he continued. "Dude smoked a joint up here two weeks ago and lost his shit."

Molly didn't look up from Moana, but I cast him a stern, maternal glare anyway. It was becoming increasingly evident coming along for the ride had been an immature, impulsive decision. I doubted Molly would tell our parents, not wanting to admit she had spent almost two hours on an iPad. I wanted to send them a text and acknowledge my stupidity, assure them we were safe, and prepare myself for the inevitable lecture that would follow. Instead, I glared at Justin until Jordan, in a subdued voice, stated, "Dude. I'm not going back in there."

"Just chill," Justin responded. "You're on babysitting duty anyway."

Finding my voice and trying to sound confident, I asked, "What happened in there?" My gaze returned to the barn.

"He swears he saw a chick with half her face shot off. Half naked, too. Giant tits."

I flushed and, unaware crossed my arms over my chest.

"I know what I saw." This time Jordan's voice sounded stern. "She was there, man."

Justin began opening his car door. "We bet him an ounce he was lying." He grabbed a lighter from the glove compartment, his arm brushing over my knee. "He doesn't trust we'll tell the truth." He stepped out of the car. "You're here to keep us honest."

The driver's side door closed. In silence, I stepped out of the vehicle. I looked back once to watch my other classmate, Brad, exit from the seat behind me. Jordan didn't meet our gaze. Molly stayed glued to the screen. I didn't even think to say goodbye.

The inside of the barn smelled old and dusty. Without the light from the moon, the interior was black as midnight. A lighter flickered, casting light on Justin's face as he lit up a joint he had pulled from his pocket. After a brief fit of coughing, he nudged me. Brad turned on his cellphone's flashlight, illuminating a straight path of light. I noticed ashes on the brink of falling from the lit tip.

"Hit?" Justin asked.

"I don't think you should smoke in here," I responded. "It's really dry."

He scoffed. "Lighten up. You have to open your mind to the mysteries. That's where the magic happens."

Brad took the extended joint and added, "Look, we're going to smoke this, say some spooky words, call out Jordan's bullshit, and we're out. Live a little."

I felt immensely foolish for having come on this excursion. I knew I was out of place, picked at whim as the honest sidekick, and now stuck with two boys getting high in a dry barn that seemed likely to catch fire with every ashing. I found a place on the floor and sat down.

Justin glanced my way. "If you're just going to sit there, you might as well start conjuring the ol' lady's spirit or something."

I glared at him from underneath my eyebrows, knowing the little bit of light from the phone cast enough shadow to hide my annoyance. "I'm not really in the mood for ghost stories."

Brad coughed and snickered. "Ghosts don't care if you're in the mood. Listen to this." He cleared his throat for dramatic effect, dislodging the last of his cough. "Spirit show yourself, spirit reveal yourself, spirit come to me, so I know you are real!"

For an instant, I felt the cold shiver again, running down the length of my arms. "You guys are idiots. I'm going to go wait in the car."

I stood up and brushed dirt from the back of my jeans. As I did so, a loud echo sounded from the stall behind me. Reveal, reveal, reveal, it rang. "You're an asshole," I said in Brad's direction.

"Dude, that was not me."

"Holy shit!" Justin exclaimed. "Quick, shine the light back there! We have come to see your tits," he said, laughing with pleasure at his humor.

I stepped aside and fell in line next to them as they peered into the shadowed space.

"I don't see anything," I said. "Now, can we go, please?"

"Say that stuff again, Brad." I took this to mean no.

Brad repeated the words he had just spoken, this time with no ghostly moaning noises for effect. The light went out.

"This is not funny," I said.

"I didn't do it," Brad replied.

"Get that light back on, man. It's dark as shit in here."

I heard fumbling; the dark continued to press forward.

"The phone is dead. I can't get it back on. Use yours."

The sound of Justin reaching in his pocket preceded a curse. "Mine's dead, too. Kelsey, give me your phone."

"I left it in the car."

"Go get it!"

I scrambled out of the barn and found the car empty, both backseat doors left open.

"Molly?"

My eyes darted left and right.

Justin's voice came from behind my ear.

"Jordan?"

I felt panic rising in my throat. "Molly!" I screamed this time with urgency.

"Calm down," Justin whispered. "He probably took her to pee in the woods or something."

Molly's crayons lay scattered on the floor of the backseat. A picture lay next to them. The image showed a boy and girl stick figure lying next to one another, each with bright red streaks of color running from their faces and limbs.

I grabbed the picture and thrust it in Justin's face. "Is this some joke?" I was screaming in fear and anger.

"No, man, we wouldn't do that."

Brad had retrieved my cell phone from the front seat. "Her phone is dead, too."

I grabbed the iPad from where it sat on the backseat. It came to life showing the bright colors of Moana. Suddenly, the image on the screen seemed to crack, black and white spots appearing and dissolving over one another. The camera icon blinked to life. Photos started scrolling across the screen: Molly laughing, our parents making silly faces, the cake we had baked last week. The images began to scroll in the other direction. When the photo of Molly laughing flashed again, a deep, resounding cackle came from the woods. It was a woman's voice.

Justin ran to the driver's seat. "This isn't funny. I'm getting out of here."

I dropped the iPad. "We can't leave without Molly!"

Justin put the key in the ignition. The engine gave a faint click but would not turn over. The woman's laugh grew closer.

"Kelsey." Brad's voice was barely a whisper.

I turned in his direction. He was holding the iPad, mesmerized as images flew across the screen in a digital flipbook. A woman, with child, cradling her stomach while lying in a man's arms. The same man lying next to her, his face a mess of exploded flesh. Teeth were dripping from where his mouth must have been. The woman screaming, holding her arm up in defense, the other arm protective around her womb. Her dress yanked greedily down her body. Her legs kicking helplessly at the barn door while a man suffocated her with his weight. Pleading on her knees, the shotgun planted against her cheek. Her body, ravaged, breasts pointing toward heaven, and half of her face missing above her chin.

The noise inched closer, freezing the three of us in fright. From bubbled laughter came the low song of a lullaby. The voice crooned eerily: "If you get there before I do, coming for to carry me home, tell all my friends I'm coming too, coming for to carry me home."

The woman's veiled image came to halt in front of the car. Cuddled against her breast, she held the limp form of Molly, blood and leaves tangled in her hair. She leveled dead eyes at Justin and Brad. "I looked over Jordan, and what did I see..." Her gaze looked down at Molly and then met my own.

I screamed and ran straight for her, my frantic hands grasping only at the air as I tried to free Molly from her grasp.

"You can't have my baby!" the woman roared.

A force propelled me onto my back, knocking the wind out of me. I watched, helplessly, as she turned on her heel and walked toward the barn, softly humming.

"You dropped something."

She stopped at the entrance to the barn where the lighter lay conspicuously in the dirt. In slow motion, it flickered and then blazed to life. On the last notes of the solemn hymn, the entire structure caught fire, shrouding the woman and child in a halo of flames as they walked forward.

Home.

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