Home > Horror, serial, Uncategorized > The Hours #4

The Hours #4

It did not take long for our little crew to move from a peaceful sleep to tear filled panic. The ladies both looked ready to faint and I worried that Mark would be ill. Carl was pale, but the grim line of his jaw reassured me that at least one other of us was trying to find a solution.

“We must have floated down a smaller branch and ended up in someone’s private garden,” he said. “That might explain the odd trees. Someone who had brought them in to attempt to cultivate them here.”

I nodded though I did not believe for a moment that Carl actually thought that.

“We just need to keep floating down river,” Carl said. “Sooner or later we will see someone or we will exit this garden and be back in a more familiar setting.”

So he and I took up the oars and pushed the craft free. After a few minutes, Mark began to help and we three drove the boat so that we cut a wake with out passing. My arms began to tire, followed by my shoulders beginning to burn from exertion, yet we were still surrounded by a strange countryside.

“How bloody big is this garden?” Mark asked. His words snapped through the air and I heard two people behind me sigh. I assumed it was Carl and Samantha. Carl would try to calm his friend, Samantha would reply with a wasp-like sting that might turn into another shouting match.

I looked back over my shoulder, preparing to stop them before an argument could set fire to the tinder of our brittle nerves, and gasped.

Mark hadn’t turned around yet. His head was down so that he stared at his lap. Samantha’s face was drawn and pale, but her eyes and nostrils both flared with anger. Her mouth was pursed in disapproval and she was about to tear into Mark.

But Carl’s eyes were wide and frightened. It looked like a large, dirty, yellow ribbon had been wrapped around his shoulders and neck. He made a slight waving motion with his hand before the strip snapped tight. I saw his face flush red before he was pulled backward out of the boat and into the water. The other three turned to look when they heard the splash. Mark jumped up and before I could utter a word, he was over the back of the boat to rescue his friend.

I wanted to help. I wanted to scream. But all I could do was stare.

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