Back to Salem

by Alex Marcoux

  Seconds later, Mark abruptly reappeared down the trail. He looked up and while Jessie knew he couldn’t see her, she was confident he knew she was there. Finally he disappeared around an outcropping. Jessie remained squatting patiently behind the boulder, her thighs burning. Occasionally, the thought of rattlesnakes and scorpions popped into her head. She wondered if she was running from one predator, while others lurked in the shadows.

  Satisfied that Mark had left, Jessie stood then turned uphill. She continued her ascent, but stayed within the shadows along the walls. Occasionally she stopped, listened, and she thought she heard footsteps following. But most of the time, she heard only her heavy breathing that aggravated her injured rib.

  Jessie knew she was getting close to the top by the disappearing canyon wall. Up until this point, she chose to climb within the shadows, fearing that Mark lurked down the trail. But now, fifty feet from the summit, the full moon illuminated the rest of the way. Before she exposed herself in the moonlight, she stopped and listened. Once satisfied she didn’t hear Mark, she stepped from the shadows, and quickened her pace, fearing now she was too out in the open. About ten feet from the top, Jessie hit a small rock with her foot; it rolled then bounced steadily down the trail. To Jessie, the noise was terrifyingly loud. Her heart pounded. Impulsively she ran up the last of the trail. As she reached the summit, she turned and looked down the path. Mark emerged from the shadows and was making his way up the trail.

  Jessie turned and ran along the mesa, back in the direction of the camp. Most of the terrain was flat. To her left was a slight incline that followed to the cliff where the Colorado River ran three hundred feet below. To her right, she could see the rise of another wall, another four hundred feet above. Since Jessie had been here only hours earlier, she knew an abyss lay between the plateau and the rising canyon wall. Shadows were cast by the canyon along the plateau, concealing where the plateau ended and the abyss began. Jessie felt trapped. She knew if she remained in the moonlight she’d be exposed. Except among the shadows, there was no place to hide.

  Desperate, she retreated to the dark. She stepped a couple of feet out of the moonlight and into the shadows, and once again, the eerie feeling returned. At a steady clip, she moved in the direction of the camp. She hadn’t moved more than a minute when she tripped over a rock and fell on her hands, scraping her palms. She brushed her raw hands together, shaking the tiny pebbles away from the torn skin. As she squatted, she sensed danger but didn’t know what it was from. Something within suggested she not move. With her hands she searched the ground for a pebble. Jessie picked one up, closed her eyes and listened.

  “Right side.” That little voice warned her.

  Instinctively she tossed the small stone to her right about three feet away. She never heard the rock collide with the stone floor, fifty feet below.

  Holy shit. When she opened her eyes, she realized the moon was peeking over the high walls, and she was no longer in the shadows. To her right she could now see that she had been walking parallel to a cliff and about six feet in front of her the precipice shifted directly in her path and ran to the left of her forming a horseshoe shape. She realized if she hadn’t fallen she would have run off the cliff.

  There was a distant bang and the sky lit up, Ted must have shot off the flare gun, illuminating the mesa.

  Jessie stood and turned around to back out of the area, but right in front of her Mark stood with gun in hand. While she had no recollection of her demise back in Salem, the situation seemed oddly familiar.

  “It was you all along!” She said.

  Mark laughed.

  “How did you kill him?”

  “Patience. I had patience. Over a six-month period I swapped expired EpiPens in every handbag that Taylor owned. I knew it’d be a matter of time.”

  “So when Kurk needed it, it wouldn’t work.”

  “Right.”

  “But there was no evidence that Kurk ate peanuts. How did the protein get in his mouth?”

  “Now that is the beauty of the crime,” Mark bragged. “Before I saw Kurk that night, I had some peanuts at the bar. After that, I just simply shook his hand.”

  “He had an allergic reaction just by touching you?”

  “Yes.”

  Jessie recalled that Mark’s cologne was strong that night, perhaps to conceal the peanut scent.

  “It was great, think about it. Kurk goes into shock about an hour after I shook his hand, you hand Taylor an expired EpiPen, and then, since I was the only one in the group with any medical experience, it only seemed right that I helped Taylor.”

  “You cleared his throat, by depressing his tongue with your fingers.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why did you kill him?”

  “The same reason I’m going to kill you.”

  Jessie knew just how vulnerable she was. Alone in the desert, a madman pointing a gun at her, cliffs surrounding her and the only safe passage blocked by Mark. She knew she had to buy time. “You wrote the letters, too.”

  “Guilty.”

  “How did you get my stationery?”

  “That day Travis and I visited your home before filming began. I had a phone call and went to your office for privacy. After snooping around, I found the stationery. It was perfect.”

  “What about the lifejacket?”

  “Guilty.”

  “How?”

  “Potassium hydroxide. Caustic enough to corrode thread, not synthetics. I just applied some to your jacket threads and straps. So in the rage of a rapid, the seams disintegrated. But you were supposed to have the jacket on, not Taylor!” He said angrily.

  “That’s why the lifejackets reeked the other night. I thought it was from the body odor. And that’s why you were coughing; it had nothing to do with allergies. But…why? Why on earth would you carry potassium hydroxide?”

  “For some odd reason, after learning about it my pre-med days, the knowledge just stayed with me. It’s a poison, an irritant, and corrosive.” A sinister smile came to Mark’s lips, “You never know when you can use a chemical of such diverse properties.”

  The sound of a helicopter indicated help was on the way. It was a Blackhawk, a military helicopter with night vision. Mark and Jessie watched the bird approach from the other side of the canyon and head for the flare. It hovered over the camp area where Travis clung on to life and then disappeared below the mesa.

  Jessie hoped they had seen her. Her heart sank.

  “And you were going to let Travis be the scapegoat.”

  “Not initially. You were going to be it, but Travis just walked into it. So, poor Travis will die from a heart attack and you’ll walk off a cliff in the dark. Now, turn around,” he ordered.

  Jessie did not move; she searched for an escape route. “All this…because of Taylor?”

  “We’re meant to be together.”

  “And you think she’ll just have you?”

  “She just can’t see me with others around.”

  “So, you’re going to kill me? You’ve been too careful to put a bullet in me. And you know I’m not going to walk off a cliff or let you push me.”

  Jessie could see the boyish grin she used to love. “Well, I could make it relatively painless for you. I’ll knock you on the head and throw you over a cliff.”

  “You know me better than that, Mark.”

  “Yes, I do. Or…you can run but I’ll catch you and make it much more painful for you. Eventually I’ll win and splatter your brains against the canyon rock walls.”

  “And what do you think my odds are?”

  Jessie didn’t give Mark a chance to answer. She bolted to her right, directly toward the precipice that she almost ran off. At the ledge, she jumped, barely clearing the four-foot wide chasm.

  “So, you choose the pain.” Mark yelled and chased after her.

  Jessie ran. She heard Mark follow close behind her. He was fast and Jessie was no match for him with her injured rib. He tackled her to the ground; the
two landed together on the hard surface, Jessie’s body cushioning his fall.

  He wrapped his arms around her from behind. Roughly, he picked Jessie up and dragged her to the cliff. Digging her heels into the rocky soil, she desperately fought to save her life. She kicked his lower shin, and he stopped and cursed. He slammed her body onto the hard surface, momentarily stunning her.

  “Damn you! I gave you a choice,” he said sternly walking off his hurt shin. “The easy road or this.” He leaned over Jessie, slapped her face then picked her up and dragged her to the cliff. Although Jessie continued to resist, Mark was much stronger. It didn’t take much for him to throw her toward the edge where gravity would finish job.

  Jessie’s lower body slid over the cliff and she frantically clawed at anything to prevent her fall. She caught hold of a protruding rock and with her legs dangling in mid-air, her feet desperately searched for something to grab hold of. One foot found a crevice and she jammed her shoe into it, between the aching arms grasping the rock and her toes wedged deep within the cliff wall, she became still.

  Mark approached the cliff to finish the job. As his foot approached Jessie’s weakening fingers, clinging to life, the sound of propellers and flashing lights caused him to turn. The helicopter had lifted from the canyon, and was now hovering just above the mesa about a hundred yards away. Its light illuminated the path between him and the copter. It was then he noticed a figure running toward him. It was a woman and she was running too fast for the hazards of the mesa.

  In that moment, he realized it was Taylor running and she was only thirty feet from him. The helicopter landed well behind her on the plateau, its light revealing that she was heading straight toward a precipice.

  “Stop! Taylor, no!” he yelled as he moved toward her.

  Taylor slowed just in time see the ten foot abyss separating her and Mark. She eyed how she’d need to back around the abyss to reach him.

  “Where’s Jessie?” She screamed.

  From behind Mark came Jessie’s weak voice. “Here!”

  “Jess?” Taylor couldn’t see her. “Where is she Mark?”

  Mark was silent.

  The helicopter light reflected something by the cliff behind Mark. It was then Taylor realized Jessie was clinging for her life.

  Taylor was horrified. She knew she wouldn’t be able to reach her in time if she ran around the abyss. She pointed at the cliff where Jessie was. “Help her up!” she told Mark.

  Mark didn’t move.

  “Get her up, now!”

  “You don’t understand!” he said.

  “I do understand, Mark. You’re no monster.”

  He didn’t move.

  “Don’t do this, Mark,” she cried.

  “It has to be this way. It’s our destiny.”

  “No it isn’t! Killing Jessie is not going to make it so I’ll be with you.”

  Mark still was not swayed.

  “I’ll never be with you Mark. Never! But if you make this right,” Taylor choked up, “I’ll always love you.”

  Jessie was beat. She barely heard Taylor plead for her life, and her muscles hurt so much she didn’t know how much longer she could hold on. She weakly said, “I can’t hold on!”

  “Jess hold on!” Taylor’s face wet from tears. “Mark, I beg you! Make this right!”

  Mark glanced at Taylor, then at a man approaching from the helicopter. He looked back at Jessie’s weakening hand as if considering.

  Jessie’s voice was barely audible, “Help!”

  He rushed to Jessie, just in time to grab her wrist. Anchoring himself to the same protruding rock with one hand, Jessie dangled 300 feet above the canyon floor with Mark holding onto her.

  For a moment, as they stared at each other Jessie believed he would drop her. Then all of a sudden Mark found it in himself to forgive. He forgave himself for the horrific things he had done in both his past and distant past. Then all of a sudden he swung Jessie up so that her upper body landed upon the mesa.

  Taylor had made her way around the abyss and arrived just in time to grab Jessie’s hand.

  Perhaps Mark lost hold of the rock that anchored him, or his lust for life had been lost knowing he couldn’t have Taylor. Or maybe even the thought of going to prison just put him over the edge, because that’s exactly what happened.

  As Taylor pulled Jessie to safety, Mark screamed as he plummeted over the edge, then the sound of impact on the canyon floor.

  Jessie painfully adjusted herself to sit upright; she sadly looked over the edge then back at Taylor.

  Taylor took in Jessie’s beaten body. “Are you okay?”

  Jessie nodded.

  “I’m sorry, Jessie. I should never have doubted you.” She brushed Jessie’s hair away from her face, exposing the dry blood on her cheek. Gently she embraced Jessie, grateful she was safe in her arms.

  Taylor’s eyes met Jessie’s. They were so familiar, and now she knew why. Her eyes settled on Jessie’s lips and they kissed, somehow knowing it was a promise to be together, forever, once again.

  After their kiss Taylor wanted to share her experience back in Salem. “The strangest thing happened to me, Jess. After you and Mark left the campsite to call 911, I went to get my flashlight from my bag. I came across the ankh you gave me. Jessie, it was mine…in Salem.”

  “It was?”

  “I went…back to Salem. I don’t understand how, but I did it. I was there. I went to the time when I carved the initials in the ankh. I was in a dungeon, and it was the morning I was to be executed.”

  Jessie was horrified. “Oh God, please don’t tell me you were executed.”

  Taylor’s blue eyes lit up and she shook her head. “I wasn’t. You broke me out of jail and we escaped, but John ended up killing you.”

  “John? My friend?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mark was John! Remember the psychic said I needed to break a cycle? I saw other lifetimes, all ending with Mark killing you because he wanted me.”

  “It was Mark who broke the cycle,” Jessie said. “Do you think he let himself fall to his death?”

  Taylor sadly shook her head. She looked over to the helicopter, now seeing someone circumventing the abyss to get to them. “Remember the psychic also said I was skeptical of metaphysics because I was persecuted or executed in a past life?”

  “Yes.”

  “When I was there, Jessie, I could hear things and see things, or just know things. I know now that I didn’t believe in it because of what happened to you in Salem. I could never forgive myself for putting our family in jeopardy, and losing you.

  “Oh, I have so much to share,” she said with eyes wide open. “Once I came back I knew I needed to find you. If I had followed my logic, I would have gone to the river. But I listened to the voices and came here.”

  Taylor and Jessie turned to the approaching man, they were surprised when they recognized him.

  “Detective Bradley?” Taylor asked.

  He studied the women. “Where’s Mark Rutledge?”

  “What are you doing here?” Jessie asked.

  “I got a call from Rutledge. He said he was on the rafting trip with Travis Sanders and Ms. Andrews, and you crashed the party.” He pointed at Jessie. “While he was concerned about you, I was more interested in Sanders. We’ve connected him to Stacy Hopkins’s death. And we’ve also learned that Kurk Warner was blackmailing Sanders, giving him a motive for Kurk’s murder.

  “I was at the Grand Canyon Airport when the emergency call came in and the helicopter was being dispatched. When I heard Mercer made the 911 call, I pulled a few strings to take a ride. But…where’s Mark Rutledge? When we were landing I thought I saw him.”

  Taylor and Jessie pointed over the ledge.

  “What the hell happened?”

  “Mark murdered Kurk and he was Taylor’s harasser,” Jessie said.

  “Mark?” Bradley eyed the women suspiciously.

  “How is Travis by the way?” Taylor asked.
/>   “He’s on the copter, he’s stable but we need to go.”

  Taylor intuitively sensed that Bradley didn’t believe them. “Detective Bradley, Mark murdered Kurk!” She tried to set the record straight.

  The detective studied the women, and then turned to Jessie. “Tell me about Deceptions.”

  “What about it?” Jessie asked.

  “Was it precognitive?”

  “You’ve been following that theory?” Jessie asked.

  The detective nodded. “There are too many coincidences between your life and your story.”

  “So, you didn’t really suspect me then?”

  “You were a suspect, but I didn’t suspect you. So, was it precognitive?”

  Jessie and Taylor looked at each other. Jessie nodded. “Yes, it was.”

  “But wouldn’t that make Taylor the murderer? How do I know the two of you didn’t kill Rutledge because he found out about it?”

  “Detective, I knew all along that Taylor didn’t do it, because I wrote the novel before the screenplay.”

  “The novel?”

  “In the novel, Nicole’s best friend framed her,” Taylor said.

  “Travis thought the end of the movie would have more commercial appeal if the lover framed Nicole.”

  “And I saw the movie three times,” Bradley said.

  “Should have read the book,” Jessie said.

  Bradley offered Taylor a hand. As he pulled her up, her eyes met the detective’s. There was familiarity that she had not seen before. As he helped Jessie up, a picture flashed in Taylor’s head. She saw a judge’s desk, dressed with a tapestry illustrating the king’s crown.

  In that moment, Taylor realized the detective was Magistrate Stoughton.

  “Detective?” Taylor asked.

  “Yes?”

  “How do you feel about colonial New England?” Taylor asked with a scheming smile.