The Thing Wearing Liam
Rain sheeted down, turning the ground to sludge. Liam—no, not Liam, it wasn't Liam—stood motionless, his head tilted at an unnatural angle. His fingers twitched, too long, the nails blackened and sharp.
Jake's breath caught in his throat. "Liam?"
The thing that had been his brother smiled. A wet, tearing sound accompanied it, like old fabric ripping.
"You left me under the bridge, Jake."
The voice was Liam's. The words weren't.
Behind them, Holloway made a choked noise. "It's too soon—the offering isn't ready—"
The trees groaned. Shadows pooled between them, thickening, rising. Something vast shifted in the darkness beyond Liam.
Rachel grabbed Jake's arm. "We need to go."
Liam's head snapped toward her. "Stay."
Holloway stumbled back, fumbling for his revolver. "It's not supposed to take the keeper. That wasn't the deal—"
Liam moved.
One second he was ten feet away. The next, his hand was buried in Holloway's chest.
The sheriff gasped, his eyes bulging. Liam leaned close, whispering something that made Holloway whimper. Then he pulled.
A wet, red crack. Holloway collapsed, his chest a ruin of splintered bone.
Liam turned. In his hand, something pulsed.
A heart.
Jake's stomach heaved.
Liam extended the offering toward the shifting dark. "Father."
The shadows surged forward.
The Ledger's Secret
They ran blindly, branches whipping at their faces. Rachel clutched the ledger to her chest, its pages flapping like wounded birds.
Jake's shoulder burned, his vision spotting. "We can't—keep running—"
Rachel skidded to a stop near a collapsed shed. "We don't have to." She flipped the ledger open, stabbing a finger at a faded passage. "Holloway's great-grandfather wrote this. 'The bones remember. Salt and iron and fire.'"
Jake wiped blood from his eyes. "What the hell does that mean?"
"The bridge." Rachel's voice was feverish. "It's not just feeding on people. It's made of them. The ones it took—their bones are in the structure."
A howl echoed through the woods. Too close.
Jake's hands shook. "So we burn it?"
Rachel nodded. "And salt the earth. It's the only way to kill something this old."
Metal shrieked in the distance. The sound of the railroad bridge twisting.
Liam was herding them.
Back to the bridge.
Back to him.
The Final Stand
The Black River churned beneath the bridge, its waters oily and thick. The structure itself seemed to breathe, its beams creaking like tired joints.
Jake dumped the gasoline can, the stench choking him. Rachel scattered salt along the supports, her lips moving in what might have been a prayer.
A twig snapped.
Liam emerged from the trees, his gait wrong, his limbs jerking like a marionette's. Behind him, the shadows thickened, forming something colossal—a hunched silhouette with too many arms.
The Big Man.
"You don't want to do this, Jake." Liam's voice was sweet, childlike. The way he'd sounded at eight years old, begging to stay up past bedtime.
Jake's hand tightened on the lighter. "You're not my brother."
Liam's smile widened. "Not anymore."
The Big Man lurched forward.
Jake struck the lighter.
The Fire
Flames raced up the bridge's bones, revealing the truth beneath the rust—yellowed femurs fused with steel, skulls grinning from the crossbeams.
The Big Man screeched, a sound that split the night. Liam staggered, his skin blackening, peeling away in ash.
Rachel hurled the last of the salt. "Now, Jake!"
Jake turned to run—
—and froze.
Liam was crying. Actual tears cutting through the soot on his face.
"Jake, please."
His brother's voice. His brother's eyes.
For one terrible second, Jake hesitated.
The Big Man's shadow fell over him.
Rachel tackled Jake aside as the bridge collapsed in a roar of flame and screaming metal. The river boiled, swallowing bones and shadow alike.
Silence.
Then—
A single, skeletal hand clawed at the bank.
Rachel brought a rock down on it.
It crumbled to dust.
Epilogue: The Hollow Men
The town called it a gas leak. A tragedy.
Jake and Rachel didn't correct them.
They stood at the river's edge a month later, watching workers haul debris from the water. The morning sun painted everything gold, false and cheerful.
Rachel lit a cigarette. "Holloway's ledger listed bridges in six states."
Jake said nothing. His phone buzzed. A notification from a news alert:
"Missing hiker found near Milltown Trestle. Claims a 'tall man' guided her to safety..."
Rachel met his eyes. "It's not over."
Jake pocketed his phone. Turned toward the car.
"Then neither are we."
Somewhere downstream, the water bubbled.
Something was laughing.