Devil ’ s Acre by David Gibbs
The scratching started the first night . It wasn ’ t obvious at first , just a stray sound in the near constant drone of the wind . The dusty hand pushing across the landscape picked up as the odd-looking light died in the sky each day . Persistent , the scratching sound grew in intensity each night , until Sarah could pick it out clearly , the wind no longer able to keep it at bay . With no windows , the small hut her prison , her imagination ran wild with what might be outside , teasing her fears , taunting her with every deliberate scratch . Each morning she woke and went outside , noting the cloven footprints in the dirt surrounding the hut , along with the new ruts in the charred wood where it had scratched with renewed interest .
Sarah had to do something .
“ What the hell is she doing here ?” Marcus asked the older nurse who always looked angry , a permanent scowl wrinkling her brow .
room .
“ She ’ s on the list .” “ Take her off ,” Marcus said , and stormed into the
His wife had already died twice only to be revived by the hospital staff . She remained in critical condition . He
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