Page 3 of Starlight

It wasn’t a bird. It was too big, and it kept disappearing into the shadows and clouds.

“What if it’s the Mothman?” Cole whispered, as if saying his name would summon the monster.

His cousins broke out into laughter. “You’re scared of an urban legend?”

The thing with urban legends was that there had to be a fragment of truth; the trouble was figuring out what that truth was. There were plenty of theories about Bigfoot, the Beast of Bladenboro, and Mothman, but no one had ever come forward with concrete evidence.

Chuck swore. “What is that?” He swerved as he pointed out the windscreen.

Cole didn’t see anything, except dark asphalt and taillights in the distance. The hairs on his arms were standing on end, and his heart was pounding like Coach was putting them through suicides.

They were still half an hour from home.

He should’ve got that lift, then caught a bus the rest of the way. He’d be home already and not trapped in the car. He wound up the window, not wanting to know what was outside anymore. All he wanted was to get home.

Both his cousins stared out the windscreen. Were they worried the wolf had found them? Why would the wolf want gold and jewelry? It didn’t make sense.

“There,” Patrick said, pointing.

Cole tried to peer between the seats but didn’t see anything. “What is it?”

“Fuck.” Chuck slammed on the brakes. The car spun and rolled.

Cole’s head hit the window, and he couldn’t breathe because of the seatbelt. His arms and legs flailed with each roll of the car. When it stopped, he wasn’t sure if he was alive or dead. He must be alive because everything hurt, and he was upside down.

He needed to get out of the car. He couldn’t get his right hand to work, it was just kind of dangling, but he managed to use his left. He tucked his head as he dropped onto the roof of the car. It took a moment for him to realize the screaming was him.

What was he doing?

Get out of the car.

The window was gone, so he dragged himself out of the hole. He managed to get halfway out, then he needed a rest. He couldn’t see because of the pain. Had he broken his back? He wriggled his toes and felt them move against his socks.

That was a good sign.

Glass crunched. There was someone walking around the car. “Patrick? Chuck?”

Where were his cousins?

The noise stopped, and for a moment, Cole thought he was alone, then he was being dragged out of the car. He cried out again as he was rolled onto his back.

Red eyes stared down at him, and the creature snarled. “You weren’t there.”

That was not one of his cousins.

His mouth opened, but no sound came out. He hadn’t been seeing things. “They picked me up from school.”

“Hmm.” The creature reached into the front of the car and pulled out a bag. He opened it up and nodded to himself.

“Where are my cousins?”

“They were thrown from the car. I threw them out of the car.”

Cole closed his eyes. Sure, he was in pain, but he was definitely dead. How else was he having a conversation with something covered in gray fur, with bright red eyes…and wings?

Wings.

The Mothman.