The Spore Queen, page 1
Copyright © 2024 Debra Castaneda
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events or locations is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 979-8-9877469-9-8
Edited by: Lyndsey Smith, Horrorsmith Editing
Cover design by: James, GoOnWrite.com
Chapter 1
March 2007
A cold, biting wind swept across the ravaged forest. David Eager stood at the edge of his land, surveying the chaos wrought by the merciless storm. He couldn’t help but marvel at his property having been spared.
Surrounded by the ruins of Nils Forest, the Mendocino Wellness Haven cabins remained undisturbed. The vast expanse of trees had served as a barrier against the violent gusts coming down from the mountain, reducing the edges of the old woodland to a tangled mess of shattered trunks and branches.
A freak storm—that’s what the forest ranger had called it on the news.
It struck at 7:30 a.m., when he’d been alone in his house. The last guest had checked out the day before, and the next group wasn’t due until the weekend. David had cowered in bed for minutes, listening to the howling wind, convinced he’d been imagining the ruckus.
He’d been imagining lots of things lately.
Something hard had slammed against the outside wall of the bedroom, jolting him into action. He’d mustered up the courage to look out the window. Through the early morning light, debris and foliage hurtled past, like a scene out of The Wizard of Oz.
It had taken a whole day for the laborers to clean up.
From the wide porch of his stone house, he watched his men going about their work, shaking their heads in disbelief at the untouched grape vines.
David made no effort to help. In the past, he would have joined in, trying to prove he was just a regular guy. But he wasn’t a regular guy anymore. His once confident strides had shortened to a series of clumsy, unsteady steps. Despite all the tests, doctors were unable to diagnose his growing list of symptoms. But what concerned him the most was what was happening to his mind.
Anxiety twisted in his stomach like a snake. The destruction in the forest was almost a metaphor for his body. The ranger had said the forest would heal itself with time. It had recovered from worse—wildfires, diseases, invasive species, and pests. But he was no forest. His body was damaged beyond repair.
David tensed at the sound of approaching footsteps. The Haven’s manager wasn’t due for another hour. David didn’t turn around. Didn’t want to find out he was imagining things again.
“Mr. Eager?” The voice belonged to a young woman. Hesitant. Tentative.
He turned slowly and coughed in surprise.
She was unconventional but stunning. A cascade of golden hair stood out against her smooth brown skin. Her dark eyes were captivating, and her prominent nose gave her a strong, distinctive look.
The wind seemed to grow louder behind him, almost overpowering his voice when he introduced himself. “I’m David Eager.”
The stranger couldn’t be a guest. The retreat, known for providing a peaceful escape for overworked tech executives, catered to an older crowd.
She smiled, revealing a set of perfect white teeth. “I’m Maria Hart. Radio reporter from San Francisco. I was hoping—”
“That’s a long way to come for nothing,” he interrupted. “I don’t give interviews. If you’d done your homework, you would have saved yourself the drive.” His hands twitched with irritation, or maybe something more sinister.
“I know. That’s what I tried to tell my boss, but he insisted on sending me anyway.” She sighed. “I’m sorry about this. I’m new at the station, and I’m still trying to prove myself. If you would just give me a few minutes of your time, I’d really appreciate it.”
Her frankness caught him off guard. The wind whipped Maria’s hair across her face, and he noticed a mole above her upper lip. In the past, her youth and beauty might have tempted him. But now, those feelings had gone—another sign of his pathetic decline. Not that David had a chance. She didn’t even look thirty, and he was pushing sixty.
Her dark eyes were pleading. “Please. Just five minutes, and I’ll be out of here.”
David couldn’t think of an excuse. Time was no longer of the essence. He had five minutes. Hell, he had the rest of the day. He could stick to his principles and say, “I never talk to reporters.” Which was true. Ever since his early days as an entrepreneur seeking investors for his startup, he had avoided speaking to the media.
Until now.
Maria Hart had cornered him, and he found himself giving in to her charming persistence.
“What did you want to talk about?”
Her lips relaxed into a smile. “Nothing controversial. I’m just curious about what led you to sell your company and why you decided to open this place. Can we go inside?”
David’s gaze lowered, focusing on the ground. How could he make it to the house without Maria noticing his awkward gait? He would have to concentrate. Take careful steps. With luck, she’d be too busy congratulating herself on her exclusive story to notice the peculiar way he walked.
He needn’t have worried. Maria left to retrieve her audio equipment from the car, which gave him enough time to reach the porch unnoticed. When she asked to use the bathroom, he pointed her toward the end of the hallway, hoping she wouldn’t wander into his personal space. He didn’t like the idea of her seeing his unmade bed with its rumpled sheets.
Outside, the trees swayed in the wind. Inside, Maria was talking. At first, he assumed she was on the phone, but soon after, the young reporter appeared, accompanied by his housekeeper. Anita was doing her best to hide her surprise at the presence of an unexpected guest.
“You want some coffee, Mr. David?” she asked.
“Yes, please, Anita. And some lunch would be nice. Maria’s come all the way from San Francisco, so I’m guessing she might be hungry.”
Maria perched on the chair next to him, a microphone cable draped across her lap. She flashed a smile at Anita. “That would be amazing, thank you. I’m starving, actually.”
As promised, Maria only asked about his retirement—he was tired of working, plain and simple—and the retreat for overworked Silicon Valley executives—no one else had thought of opening one in Mendocino, close enough to drive but far enough to feel like a true getaway.
At his request, Anita served lunch on the porch. Maria ate her meal while wrapped in a green woolen blanket. Her gaze kept drifting to Nils Forest across the sun-drenched meadow. A massive pile of shattered branches and debris sat at the edge of the wide field, ready for the next truck to come and dispose of it all.
“Did you see the windstorm? The coverage looked unreal, like something out of an apocalypse movie.”
David nodded. “That’s the perfect description.”
Maria sipped her coffee and frowned. “The station wants me to do a twofer.”
“Oh?” David set down his mug.
“They also want me to cover the storm for a separate story. One of the scientists we talked to says these types of storms are going to become more common and more intense.”
David sat back in his chair, stung. He’d flattered himself, fooled into thinking the radio station had sent the reporter all the way up here just for him, but he was merely an afterthought, a way for them to make the most of their trip. Grab a quick interview with the has-been recluse and get more bang for their gas money.
His time with Maria seemed to fly by. She was a rare listener, asking insightful questions. David found himself talking about the stress and exhaustion he’d faced, even telling her about a seizure he’d had ten years into his role as CEO.
“That’s terrible,” she murmured. Her sad eyes never left his face.
He shook his head. Picked a crumb off his flannel shirt. “I made myself sound so pathetic just now, didn’t I?”
Maria plucked off her headphones. “No. You were just being honest. Your old job sounds terrible.” She wrinkled her nose. “Some days, the stories I cover are so heartbreaking that I literally go home and cry. My roommate thinks I’m an idiot for becoming a reporter. She says I’m too sensitive. It’s like someone who’s afraid of blood choosing to be a surgeon.”
“Sounds like you’re an empath,” David commented. He knew a thing or two about personality types—empaths were rare in Silicon Valley.
“That’s what my therapist says.”
David smiled. “I never thought I’d say this about meeting a journalist, but I’ve enjoyed our conversation.”
David glanced at his phone and was surprised to see it was almost one o’clock. They had been chatting for almost two hours. Maria had one more story to cover, which included a ten-mile trip to the ranger station and who knew what else. It would be a draining day, followed by a long drive back to San Francisco on winding roads.
“Do you have a place to stay for the night?” he asked.
A look of annoyance crossed her face. “There’s no budget for travel. I’ll have to suck it up and cover a motel myself.”
“What if you stayed here? In one of the cabins? They’re vacant anyway. Anita can make you some dinner and leave it in the fridge for when you get back.”
Maria sat up a little straighter, and she smiled. “Seriously? That would be amazing. Thank you so much! And that would give me time to explore the forest. I had no clue your place was right next to it, so it’s super convenient.” She pointed toward the trailhead. “Would you like to come with me and show me around? You must know it really well, and I’d love to get your perspective on the storm damage.”
The thought of trying to keep up with this young, energetic woman filled him with trepidation. Just maneuvering around the flat paths on his property was already enough of a challenge.
“I really wish I could,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of regret, “but I have some things to take care of here, unfortunately.”
***
Later, David watched Maria emerge from Cabin No. 6, dressed for hiking in a robin’s-egg-blue jacket and boots, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. When she spotted him through the window, she waved, and he returned the gesture. She disappeared into the forest, her audio equipment bag slung over her shoulder.
After hours had passed and the sun began to slide behind the trees, Maria appeared at the door, panting as if she’d just finished a run. “You won’t believe what I’ve found out there. It’s incredible. The forest is covered in fungus. The ranger said the mycelium comes to help the forest recover.”
“Mycelium?” David echoed, intrigued. He knew there were mushrooms in the forest, but he didn’t know much about them.
“Yes, mycelium. They’re these white roots that sprout from the fungus or something. At least, that’s what I think he said. There are mats of them everywhere, and they’re so dense they look like blankets. This is so cool because I’ve been wanting to cover more environmental stories, and this one is fascinating. I was devastated when I saw how many trees were knocked down. At first, I thought the white stuff was a disease, until the ranger explained what mycelium does. And while I was out there, I found some crazy-looking mushrooms, so I picked some to show to the ranger. And guess what they were?”
Her excitement was contagious, and David found himself smiling. “What?”
Maria’s dark eyes glittered. “Magic mushrooms! The kind that makes people trip out. Or at least, that’s what he thought.” Maria glanced down at her phone. “I have to go. I’m meeting with a mushroom expert. He’s going to explain everything to me. I’ll see you later. When I’m done.”
Maria turned on her heels and sprinted back toward the trailhead, feet pounding against the ground as she ran through the trees.
The forest seemed to swallow her whole.
Chapter 2
October 2007
Of all the words in the English language, “no” was Amy Matthews’s least favorite. Especially when it came from her least favorite person at the radio station—the pompous jerk at the assignment desk.
“I hate crime stories,” he said dismissively, when she pitched going to Mendocino to cover the disappearance of Karl Ackerman.
Amy didn’t give up that easily. “Maybe it isn’t a crime. He’s the fifth person to disappear in that area, counting Maria. Maybe something else is going on.”
“Like what?” Ronald snorted. “Convince me.”
“People are posting on a forum I’ve been following that there’s something weird going on at Nils Forest—”
“As in?” Ronald interrupted.
Amy’s hands tightened into fists, and she fought to keep her expression professional. Ronald had a punchable face—eyebrows perpetually furrowed, mouth turned down, and stubble reaching just above his prominent Adam’s apple. He annoyed the shit out of her.
However, Amy either had to convince him or miss out on the opportunity to pursue the Maria Hart story. She’d never tell Ronald, but Karl Ackerman was simply a means to an end: getting to Mendocino to find Maria Hart.
“As in, strange phenomena. No one else is reporting on it. At least not yet.” She paused, letting the implications sink in; Ronald loved beating the commercial stations. “Someone up in Mendocino posted that four members of the search team for Ackerman ended up in the ER after becoming dizzy and disoriented. They kept falling down, and one of them couldn’t stop throwing up. Two had to be carried out on stretchers.”
Ronald cupped his chin in his hands, eyes widening. “You’re kidding? What do they think happened to them?”
“Still waiting for tests to come back.”
“What do the police think happened?”
“Who the hell knows because there’s no one up there to demand answers from the police chief.”
“So, these are just rumors on the interweb tubes?” Ronald scoffed.
By the gleam in his eyes, Amy knew she had him hooked. All she needed now was to reel him in. Patience wasn’t her strongest quality.
“Right now, we have the advantage. We’ve got a jump on the story—”
“But it’s just some rando on Reddit, or whatever. You don’t know if it’s even legit.”
Since smacking Ronald wasn’t an option, Amy settled on wagging her finger at him. “That’s where you’re wrong. I called the hospital and confirmed it. And not only that, the nurse I spoke to was super chatty and mentioned this wasn’t the first time it’s happened. Other people have gotten sick in Nils. He said the ranger’s office has been trying to figure it out, but so far, no luck.”
Ronald straightened, clasping his hands together on the desk and biting his lip. “What did the ranger’s office say?”
Amy held his gaze. “I don’t know yet. It’s the kind of conversation that should happen in person, don’t you think? If I call, they’ll just come up with some bullshit excuse to avoid talking to me. Plus, before I meet with anyone official, I need to track down those people who got sick and get them on the record. Get some sound. Five people, Ronald…Five. Poof. Gone. Without a trace. It has to be connected to whatever is making these folks sick. That’s what people are saying on Reddit, and it makes sense to me too. We gotta jump on this before some other reporter gets onto it.”
Ronald sat back in his chair, sighed, then threw up his hands. “Okay, fine. I still have some leftover budget from that documentary that never materialized, but you’ll have to do this on the cheap. Why don’t you get up there and start working on it? We can figure out the timeline once you’ve made some progress.” He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a company checkbook. “Here’s an advance. And be sure to keep all your receipts, unlike the last time.”
Amy tucked the check into a pocket. She forced a smile and said, “Thanks, Ronald.” Words she thought would never leave her lips.
“We should hang out sometime,” he called after her.
Amy managed to make it to the stairwell before she gagged.
Chapter 3
Amy headed for the basement to see the chief engineer about a piece of equipment causing her endless frustration. As the newest reporter on staff, she had been assigned an old cassette recorder, functional but too bulky to easily lug around.
She found Ken in his chaotic office, surrounded by stacks of broadcast equipment and piles of boxes. “Kenneth, can I please, please trade this thing for something from this century?”
Ken spun on his stool to meet her gaze. With his tiny eyes, upturned nose, and white whiskers, he resembled an adorable mole. “That is the most dependable piece of equipment we have, Miss Matthews. Has it ever let you down? Ever?”
She tilted her head back and let out an exasperated sigh. Ken was not a fan of new technology. He’d been dragged, moaning and groaning, into the digital age.
“Never,” she admitted. “I actually kind of love it, but it’s a bit bulky. I’m going to Mendocino to cover the story about the missing tech guy, and I’ll probably have to go into Nils Forest. It would be helpful to have something a little lighter.”
She was also annoyed about using a recorder reliant on cassette tapes, but there was no point mentioning it. Ken loved them.
He frowned. “Well, it is a tad oversized for that kind of fieldwork. Let me see what else I have.” With a martyred sigh, he stood and made his way to the closet. A few moments later, he emerged with a Marantz PMD in hand. Small, lightweight, and digital.
Amy had to resist the urge to snatch it from his grasp. “Can I keep it?”
