P4: Canis Major.

The strange, stubborn man named Rob pursuing answers to his unusual questions galore had taken his leave hours ago, yet all the big-eyed adults, bloodshot from their reefer, worried themselves aloud in speculation over whether or not he would return; perhaps, equipped with more questions. The moon, full and white, pasted on a black, peerless sky is potholed by radiant galaxies overhead, and they weep together.

Gazes tearful and others in disbelief scanned whereabouts the flatlands and black mesas rose in the night, unseen, spooked as they clutch their few children nearer; a bonfire palpitates, glinting in their furrowed, anxious eyes.

Poor Ashley, the sunbaked, grinning man says; the skinny man, the scraggly man, the reeking man, whose stench is of male musk and unwashed scalp.

I wish she could’ve been here, with us, says he, as he passes crimson solo cups to all present in the bizarre gathering. The hippy-women with their long hair and their careworn dresses allow the few children to sip first; the baby coos, as the mother guides a wetted finger into its mouth.

For this, he says.

Long after midnight, the cold land is frighteningly quiet as the entirety of that motley group lies dead with their sightless eyes gawking uncannily to constellations they’d hoped the soul might venture to, embracing each other by the vanishing fire.

All dead save for the fussing babe in its mothers cold arms, whose lonely, alien cries begin to attract curious prairie wolves.


[ ‘Girls That Vanish At Night: New Mexico, 1986′ is the continuation of a short horror series told episodically by Samantha Lucero. To catch up on series 1, go here. ]


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