 There isn't a whole lot to do where I come from. The nightlife is comprised solely of a sad little tavern shoved in behind a bakery on the main strip, an afterthought to the town's development. Had to put the drunk somewhere, I guess. No recreational halls or places to dance to speak of, everything shuts down at the hint of dusk and you can forget trying to get a drink on a Sunday. Such is the fate of being born in a small town within the American Midwest, the only beacon of life was that archaic white church that towered over the center of town. You could spot its pointed roof while approaching from a mile away. My ma would drag me to every sermon. The preacher had a talent for terrifying those in attendance. Despite this, the church was packed every Sunday. The fear of God was easier to have on one's mind opposed to the other issue that plagued the town. This threat was easily explained. You could be saved from it. Just follow the rules. The other threat had yet to be defined. People were beginning to disappear. Cars were found abandoned on the side of the road with no sign of the owner. Some seemed to vanish from within their own homes. They would be seen entering only to never leave. Neighbors often claimed to hear glass shattering late in the night in these cases. Rumors spread rapidly. Each one more absurd than the last. The only thing that was certain was that they all disappeared after sundown. Some paranoia gripped the town and it became silent past 9pm. I'd recently graduated high school. This was to be the first summer I would share with many of my childhood friends. Most of them had big plans for the coming September. Off to the city, off anywhere really, off to somewhere better than here. I didn't have such plans, not for lack of wanting to. My family was not from money and I wasn't exactly a prodigy in school. I'd hardly figured anything out by the time high school concluded. Watching everyone preparing to leave me behind was depressing, but I did my best to bury my feelings and be happy for them. I'd received word of an impromptu party happening out by this wooden bridge that crossed a river not too far from town. I'd been across it a few times when my parents would drive out to visit my cousin's farm. Based on its appearance, one could be forgiven for believing that its construction predated the town itself. I hated the way the boards creaked and groaned as our family station wagon would pass over it. It felt as though the vehicle would fall through into the water below at any moment. We couldn't remember whose idea the bridge was. Typically, we would load our trucks with booze and head to the abandoned barn house up north. It was a chill spot until someone ignited the damn thing with a cigarette. The bridge seemed like a decent alternative. It was far enough from the town, so we didn't need to worry about noise and the embankment provided some additional privacy. An ideal place to get inebriated. Drinking was the only thing that seemed to make this place remotely tolerable. No one my age really observed the unofficial curfew and my folks never tried to stop me from going out. Ma had decided against cooking that night, so I dropped by Sal's diner. The food was more akin to what was found in a pig's trough, but I was going to need something in my stomach if I was planning on drinking that night. The sun had set as I picked apart my meal at a rusting metal table outside of the restaurant. Light cast upon me from the windows of the prefabricated diner as staff rushed around trying to finish their shifts. The remainder of my food had become cold at this point. I decided against finishing my burger when I spotted a few glowing orbs to the right in the diner's parking lot. Raccoons. I figured life was hard enough for the little guys, so I tossed the remains of my meal their way. The eyes didn't move, they just stared back. The sound of a horn startled me. I turned to see Claire and Dax and his rusty pickup out on the road. Come on, you waiting for the seasons to change? Dax shouted while leaning out of the cab. I sighed and looked back towards the raccoons. They were gone, probably thought I was a threat and scampered away. I shrugged, stood up from the table, and ran off towards the truck. In moments we were under the bridge getting hammered, I had just lost count of how many cans I had pounded back. Jake, a guy I may or may not have sat beside in history, was passionately recounting another time when he was drunk. I was just nodding on the verge of fading out when he slapped me on the shoulder. I'll be right back, but I'm just about ready to piss myself. Jake slurred and giggled. Jake pointed at me with dual finger guns and turned around, walking out from under the bridge. I looked down at the gravel beneath my feet as I heard him trudge towards the tall grass off the embankment. The river flowed in front of me, barely making an impression on the soundscape that had been dominated by our presence. I reached into my shirt pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. I grabbed one and placed it between my lips, lighting it. I took a deep inhale and exhaled, watching the smoke fly forward. To my right, a symphony of slurred conversation hit my ears. There was at least nine of us under the bridge, not including Jake, who had been singing show tunes in the distance as he urinated. What a douche, I said to myself, as I chuckled under my breath. I wasn't sure how I'd separated from the rest of the group with him. He was the kind of guy that didn't talk to you, but rather at you. To my left, wind whistled, disrupting the silence beyond the party. My brain took a moment to process the information. Wasn't Jake singing a moment ago? I turned to look. The tall grass swayed in the breeze, but Jake was not there. I dropped my cigarette, stomped it out, and stepped down from underneath the bridge to get a better look. Hey, Jake, where are you at? I shouted playfully. It was difficult to see too far out. We were submerged in a darkness you could only really be familiar with if you grew up in a rural area. The only source of light was coming from the headlights of three parked trucks on the right side of the bridge. I became nervous. Jake, cut it out. I'm not in the mood for this shit. We'll leave without you. You want to walk home alone? I tried to sound angry as I said this, but that really wasn't my thing. Yes, what are you doing? A sly feminine voice rang out. I turned to see Claire's silhouette in the backdrop of the headlights with her hands cut to her mouth. Dak stood a few steps to her right. I can't find Jake. I called back. Well, he's probably pissing, she said, hardly containing her laughter. Yeah, he was, but he disappeared. I responded. Probably because he noticed you watching. Now come over here. He'll come out when he's ready. I could sense her teasing grin in the dark as I stared back at her awkwardly. I threw my hands up in the air in defeat and began walking back to the bridge. A gust of air rushed past behind my head the moment I stepped forward. I stopped and looked around instinctively. Claire had a hand on her hip like a disapproving parent, seemingly sensing my anxiety. What are we going to do with you, Wesley? Her infectious smile sneaking out of her smirk. Please, just Wes. I said sheepishly as I made my way back under the bridge and approached her. Dax wandered over and placed a hand on Claire's shoulder. She slapped it away and raised her eyebrows. Dax shrugged and raised a beer bottle to his lips. The rest of the party mingled amongst themselves, dancing to the country music blaring from a blown out speaker in a cab of one of the trucks. I couldn't even make out what song it was, but I guess it provided the necessary background noise to fill in the dead air in between whiskey soaked conversations. If I were to be honest, I wasn't too familiar with most of the grad class. I knew most of their names found them friendly enough, but I didn't quite know them if that makes sense. Most of these parties, I would find myself hovering around Claire, Dax, and whatever group of people they were interacting with. Claire must have noticed my drifting gaze. What's going on in that head of yours, Wes? Claire spoke with only a hint of mockery. It's, it's fine. Don't worry about it. I did my best to meet nonchalant. Claire looked at me, pursed her lips, and nodded unconvinced. She could read my insecurities like a flyer on a telephone pole. Claire playfully shoved my shoulder and smiled. There's a life waiting for you out there, Wes. But you sure as hell won't find it with your eyes glued to the floor. She said softly, I was going to miss her. The music cut out along with one of the truck's headlights, son of a bitch, Brad, the school's jock sighed out. He walked out from under the bridge and approached the truck, pulling a flashlight from his pocket. He swung the driver's door open and leaned inside while muttering to himself. I zoned out again as the party's chatter became the night's primary soundtrack. I watched on as Brad fiddled with the stereo and the familiar faces across the way became absorbed in their own anecdotes and inside jokes. I realized it had been some time since Jake left. I felt that I had to look for him. He could have fallen and cracked his head on a rock or something. I was about to speak up. When something peculiar caught my attention, it wasn't a sight, but rather a sound. I was unsure how to describe it properly. I could be compared to someone gasping for air, yet the sound was a much lower pitch. It seemed, to repeat, somewhat like a bird call. I hadn't heard it before when the radio was blaring, but now that it was out, I could easily hear it over the sea of chatter. The longer I listened for it, the more it seemed to multiply. I couldn't pinpoint the location, it seemed to come from all over. I began to look around, but no one else seemed to notice it. I looked behind me at the brush. It was far too dark, but the noise wasn't coming from there. A troubling realization struck me. It seemed to be coming from above us. A gust of wind blasted past us from the other side of the party, immediately followed by a metal screech. All of us turned to face the noise. One's truck was rocking back and forth, much like a seesaw that was pressed to one side and let loose. It came to stand still. Brad was not there. The entire party stopped what they were doing. The night became dead silent. Brad said a girl whose name I couldn't recall. She slowly broke from the rest of the party and approached the truck. Alex began to walk in her direction, but I instinctively put out a hand and stopped him. I could feel him scowl at me in protest. The girl walked up to the driver's side and looked around. After a few moments, she stepped away from the cab. She turned to look at us in confusion, and as she began to walk back, a spiraling beam of light fell from the sky and landed at her feet. It was a flashlight. She looked down at it, then looked up. A look of terror swept over her face as she opened her mouth. Before she could make a sound, a dark shape swooped down and lifted her up out of sight. The party went silent. Panic set in. One of the party goers let out a shrill scream. Everyone began to dart towards their vehicles. Dax pushed past me, holding Claire's wrist. I quickly threw myself between them and the vehicles. What are you doing? I said, monotone, still in shock. We need to get out of here. Did you not see what just happened? Dax shouted. What we need to do is stay under the bridge. I shouted back, holding eye contact. I had no evidence to back this up. I was just going off instinct. Get her out of your damn mind. Dax said with venom. Dax shoved me to the ground as he dragged Claire forward. She wrenched her arm away from him. Don't I get a say? Also, you put your hands on me like that again. You're going to eat dirt. Claire attempted to speak with her typical confidence, but she was visibly shaken. Look, I'm sorry, but considering the circumstances, I didn't take etiquette into account. Dax said frustrated as I picked myself up. I opened my mouth to speak, but stopped. I was looking upon the others as they crowded around their vehicles. The screams were becoming louder beyond that. The noise was back, but it was different. Those deep creaking gasps became more frequent, excited, even Dax and Claire noticed the direction of my gaze and quit their argument to see what I was looking at. None of us spoke a word. A man was about to enter a passenger seat, then a black blur swiped down and picked him up. It happened too quickly to see what it was. A girl was gripping the hand of her partner. Suddenly something lifted him up, pulling her with him. She was flung towards the tall grass and mid-air. Another blur snatched her. One person managed to get their truck started. As they backed up, the driver's side window exploded and they were dragged out of the passenger's side and into the sky. Unmanned, the truck rolled into the river, its headlights projecting into the air and dying out as the water reached its electronics. It was just the three of us. Everyone else was gone. Dax's truck sat a few paces from the bridge's cover. It was the last operational vehicle and only source of light. The gasping calls became unbearable. Did you hear that? I said, unsure of my own words. What? Claire said, frozen in place. I don't know. It's like someone struggling for air. I think it's what's taking people. I shuddered as I spoke. Dax curled his hand into a fist and walked towards the edge of the beam. What are you doing? I said sternly. Dax looked back at me, then pointed towards the area Jake and I were hanging out earlier. I left my pack over there, away from the party. Didn't want anyone going through it. His voice was steady. He stood at the edge where the light melded with the blackness of the night. What good is a backpack gonna do us? I nearly shouted. My old man's gun. I nabbed it from under his bed, figured we could shoot cans or something. A nervous laugh edged its way into Dax's voice as he spoke. I wasn't sure that a gun would be of much use. Whatever was out there was fast, even if we were experienced. I doubt any of us would have the accuracy necessary to protect ourselves. There was something more pressing on my mind. How had we been spared? Was it the bridge above us or the light coming from Dax's truck? Jake and I were engulfed in darkness earlier though. Before I could react, Dax took off into the dark. Claire shouted out after him, but his shape had already been absorbed into the darkness beyond. The gravel crunched under his footsteps as Claire and I held our breath. Then there was nothing. A few moments passed. An explosion of light and sound rang out into the night, revealing Dax's location. He was firing the pistol. Three muzzle flash revealed Dax frantically pointing the gun in a different direction like a slide show. Five shots rang out, then silence. There was a gust of air, a final gunshot rang out. I caught a glimpse of Dax suspended in air, being pulled away. I heard the faint sound of the pistol landing on gravel. Claire cried. I just stood still, shaking. It was the light then. It was the only thing that made sense. As long as we were in a solid amount of light, then we'd be safe. Perhaps we'd only been noticed when Jake left the cover of the bridge or maybe whatever was out there was just playing with us. As Claire gripped onto me, I turned to look at the vehicle that was providing our salvation. Were the headlights getting dim? Or was that just my imagination? Our bodies cut out replicant shapes in the light. Were we unknowingly making pathways out of our shadows for whatever was out there to reach us? I chose not to think about it. The headlights flickered. There had to be something we could do. Then the obvious occurred to me. In the whirlwind of panic and inebriation, I didn't consider the cell phone in my pocket. I reached in and pulled it out, examining the home screen. Mostly charged with good enough reception. Without further hesitation, I dialed 911. I pressed the phone to my ear and waited for someone to answer. They would probably think we were crazy. If I said too much, maybe they would write it off as a prank and not even show. I had to keep it cool. I would say there was an accident. Then hit their head. It didn't matter, as long as it was in the realm of believability. The call connected, and I opened my mouth to speak. I felt a lump in my throat as I stared into the darkness. 911, what's your emergency? A gruff voice answered. I cleared my throat, tried to quell the terror enough to speak. There's been an accident. My friends hurt. He fell. Send someone, please. I spoke. All right, just calm down. What happened? The operator seemed a bit disinterested. We were drinking under the bridge, and... What bridge? The operator interrupted me as their tone became stiff. The one just on the edge of town, the wooden one, I was almost shouting at this point. Then there was silence. That's where they sleep. You should have followed the curfew. He said in a quiet trance. There was a click, and the call ended. I dialed 911 again, but I couldn't connect with an operator. If I couldn't contact the authorities, what could I do? Assuming anyone would believe me. I'd only be putting others in danger. The darkness beyond our light source began to swirl as if it was oil on a liquid surface. Was I perceiving things moving in the night, or was I staring into a wall of ink? Are they coming? Claire spoke as if she already knew the answer. I looked at her without saying a word. She gripped her left shoulder, taking my response as a confirmation of her fears. Whatever was out there stayed just on the edge of where the light faded off. There were sounds coming from all directions now. We found ourselves drifting towards the truck's headlights until we were at the edge of the bridge's underside. The light appeared to be the primary source of our salvation, but I was not yet comfortable with losing the mass between us and whatever may have been in the sky. There's a good nine hours until dawn. We can't wait around here for this thing's battery to die. Claire said, you saw what happened earlier. Something took that guy straight out of the cab. I said frustrated. So we're just gonna wait here until the battery dies with the keys and the ignition. Only a few feet away, she said. There was a look in her eyes that I knew far too well. She'd already made her decision. I'm not waiting to see what happens. I don't want it to end here, Wes. And then Claire darted for the truck, throwing herself into the driver's side. I chased after her. She turned the key and the ignition and the engine roared as I slid into the passenger's side door, shutting it behind me. Drowning out the engine was a chorus of gasps and hisses coming from every direction. Claire stepped on the accelerator, launching the truck through the underside of the bridge. Something collided with the rear passenger side wheel well, causing the truck to make a sharp right turn towards the river. Claire twisted the steering wheel, narrowly missing a nose dive into the water. The night hissed with rage as Claire floored the gas pedal, driving through the gravel and up the hill of tall grass. Something punched a massive dent into the roof of the cab. Claire drove up onto a paved road and cranked the wheel towards town. We just about flew over the bridge as the speedometer climbed. Claire's knuckles turned white as she gripped the wheel. In the distance, I could see the few street lamps that marked the main strip of our town. The gasping and screeching stopped as if a conductor held up their hand. There was an absolute silence, save for the engine desperately working to keep the vehicle in motion, along with the wheels rolling over the poorly maintained asphalt. And then the driver's side window exploded. Claire's head was whipped out towards it. Something had her. I attempted to grab her right arm, but I was yanked from the passenger side. I lost my grip and she was pulled into the night, screaming. The truck began to fishtail. I latched onto the steering wheel, trying to regain control, but the truck went off the road and into a ditch. I hit my head on the steering wheel and blacked out. I was staring upwards at the driver's seat when my eyes opened. My face was warm with blood. I was on my back, lying on the roof of the cabin. The truck had flipped, turning myself over. I began to crawl. Shattered glass sliced my knees and forearms as I progressed towards the dark of night. I managed to pull myself out of the vehicle and into the tall, dry grass. My right hand was throbbing. I looked at it. My ring and pinky finger were pointing in the wrong directions. I was in too much shock to pay attention to the pain. My head was ringing, but I could still hear that sound. It was close, incredibly close. I sat myself up, my back to the ruined truck. One headlight had survived the accident. This dying beam cast out into the night. That low roar became even lower, then silent. I looked forward into the darkness, and then I saw it. A pair of eyes followed by another pair, then seven more. Their numbers increased until I stopped counting. I was looking at a constellation of glowing orbs all trained on me. The same orbs I'd seen before, I'd fed them, mistaking them for something else, and they'd followed me, whatever they were. The scraps I gave them weren't enough, but it had labeled me as a food source. One by one, the eyes shut, and I was left in the darkness. In the morning, a driver noticed the total truck and called the authorities. No one believed me. The police operator denied the contents of my phone call, and there was no record of it. The scent of alcohol on my clothing led most to believe that I simply took Jack's truck and went for a joyride. As for the disappearances and abandoned vehicles, despite the outcry from family and friends, not much came from it. It was as if there was some unspoken understanding not to tread in certain places. After the authorities let me go, I became a mess. I try to stay indoors as much as possible. When I look outside my bedroom window, I'm met with those eyes peering in on me. I haven't fed them anything but the occasional food scraps, but they won't touch it. People are disappearing in our neighborhood at an increasing rate. I fear they will try to take me next. At night, I stay indoors and I keep all the lights on, but even then, I can still hear them calling out to one another in the night sky.