The Clearing

by Tom Deady

  The ATV bounced to a stop, jarring her from a half-sleep. Hannah expected to be in her backyard but realized with a start that she had no idea where they were. For a panicky second she wondered if escaping and being rescued was just a dream and she was in the back of Mama Bayole’s golf cart. Hannah’s fear was allayed when she saw Dad, not to mention the collection of emergency vehicles.

  Just thinking of Mama Bayole conjured up disturbing thoughts, patchwork memories of her cellar and the clearing. Hannah had so many questions for Ashley and Dad.

  She hopped off the ATV and helped Ashley down. There were police cars, fire trucks, and an ambulance and Hannah saw Dad’s car as well. It struck her that they must be on Route 33. The cascade of questions grew longer when she connected Route 33 to Jacob Mather, but they would have to wait.

  Darkness descended on Hannah’s backyard, and she wondered if it would always bring fear with it now. They had spent the day giving statements at New Hampshire State Police Headquarters in Manchester, answering the same questions over and over. It was infuriating and exhausting. Hannah watched each police officer with suspicion. What if one of them had a red robe in the trunk?

  The people she did trust: Dad, Ashley, and Officer Benson were all with her. Hannah put Jacob and Susan in that category. Jacob was still recovering in County Memorial and Susan...

  “Come sit, Hannah, there’s nothing out there.”

  Dad was patting the couch next to him. Benson sat next to him, absently stroking Scout’s back. Scout had taken a liking to the cop and was curled at his feet. Ashley was on the recliner, struggling to keep her eyes open.

  Hannah joined them, plopping down next to Dad, but her eyes wandered toward the window again and the gathering darkness beyond.

  Was Susan out there somewhere? Was Mama Bayole?

  “Dad, Officer Benson, what do we do now?”

  Dad dropped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in for a hug.

  “We let the police do their job.” Dad sighed.

  Officer Benson’s face held the same doubt that Hannah felt. This had been going on for decades and the police had done nothing. Why would anything be different now?

  “It’s all out in the open, Hannah. Those people have nowhere to hide anymore.” Her father’s voice was calm, soothing.

  “Nobody even knows who they are, Dad.”

  Officer Benson had told them earlier that Mama Bayole’s house had burned to the ground last night. There was nothing left.

  “They don’t have to hide, that’s the problem,” Hannah replied.

  Her face flushed with anger and frustration. Officer Benson was watching her. She could tell he had something to say. Finally, he turned his gaze to Dad.

  “I hate to say it, Brian, but Hannah’s right. All we have are suspicions that the librarian and Dietrich are involved. The Staties haven’t found anything connecting them to Bayole. It doesn’t look like there’s going to be anything salvageable from her place. From what Hannah told us, the contents of the basement might have at least helped us identify some of the other victims, but...”

  His voice trailed off. Hannah finished the thought in her head. It’s gone. All of it. Not only had the farmhouse been destroyed, but the fire in the clearing had consumed any possible evidence there. Nothing remained but the stone altar. They would find bone fragments, sure, but nothing to connect those remains to Mama Bayole. Crews would continue to sift through the rubble at her farmhouse, but Hannah doubted they’d find anything useful. She wondered absently if they’d find the remains of her bike.

  “What about getting search warrants for that librarian and Dietrich? Maybe they could find something to connect them to Bayole?”

  Benson shook his head. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, like he was trying to calm himself down.

  “No judge is going to issue a warrant based on hearsay. We need something definitive to connect them to Bayole, and we just don’t have it.”

  He slammed his fist on the arm of the couch, sending Scout scurrying toward Ashley. Hannah slid to the floor to pat him. He immediately rolled onto his back, waiting for a belly rub.

  “The guy at the library that pretended to be the blogger. I took pictures, recorded his voice.” Ashley’s voice was triumphant.

  Hannah glanced around the room, seeing the disappointment mirrored on each face. She turned back at Ashley and saw her lips quiver. Ashley had recognized the look the others had shared and already knew that piece of evidence was gone, too. Benson broke it to her.

  “When we went out to look for you in the woods, we left the phone behind. Jacob got scared. He still wasn’t convinced I wasn’t part of it. He grabbed the phone and took it with him. A car forced him off the road and his tire blew. Another car came by shortly after and offered to help. Jacob doesn’t remember anything after. He woke up later in the hospital. There were traces of chloroform in his system.”

  Hannah knew the rest. Jacob had had what the doctors called “a minor cardiac event.” It could have been the stress, the chloroform, or just old age. He was expected to make a full recovery. The phone was gone.

  He had gained consciousness long enough to tell Dad and Officer Benson where on Route 33 they’d have the best chance of finding the clearing. Benson had called in a favor with a friend in the State Police to get the search party going. Hannah had heard Benson talking in hushed tones to Dad earlier. His captain at the Hopeland Police Department had suspended him while they investigated his breach of protocol.

  “So that’s it?”

  Ashley sounded so small, so defeated. Benson jerked his head in her direction. Hannah couldn’t quite read his expression, but it looked somewhere between anger and resolve.

  “No, Ashley. That is most definitely not it. I was born and raised in Hopeland. This is my town, too. I won’t rest until we find them all and put them behind bars. I’ll do it with or without a badge.”

  Hannah admired Officer Benson’s determination—can I still call him Officer?—but all the determination in the world didn’t mean any of them were safe.

  That old witch marked me with her glare. She’ll never stop coming for me. For us.

  Hannah knew the librarian and Dietrich were part of the cult or coven or whatever it was. There was also the guy who had posed as the blogger and whoever drove the dark-colored car that kept showing up.

  “That could be a long time. Or never. They could be anywhere. Anyone.” Hannah hated how scared she sounded.

  Benson tried to put her fears to rest. “Hannah, I’ve already discussed this with your dad. I’m going to stay here for a while until we get a handle on the situation. You have nothing to worry about.”

  Hannah felt the stress leave her body. Ashley relaxed as well; Hannah could see it in her body language. They both trusted Benson and would certainly sleep better knowing he was here. The fact that he carried a gun didn’t hurt either.

  Dad stood, touching Brian’s shoulder as he got to his feet, “I’ll grab you a pillow and blanket.”

  Hannah glanced at Dad, wide-eyed. She felt Officer Benson’s gaze on her and glanced at him. He had a faint smile on his face. She knew what her dad had been lying about and why her mom left.

  Later, while Dad and Benson conversed in the living room, Hannah and Ashley finally had a chance to talk. They sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor while Scout sprawled out on the bed. At first Ashley was quiet. Hannah insisted she didn’t have to talk about everything this soon, but Ashley was determined to get Hannah up to speed. She thought she might be missing something that Hannah would pick up on. Before she could begin, Hannah blurted out, “I think my dad is gay.”

  Ashley stared at her, as if trying to figure out if Hannah was joking. Then Ashley’s expression changed. She looked pensive. After a moment, she began nodding. “Benson?” she whispered.

  “I think so,” Hannah said, feeling her face redden. “It was just the way he touched Benson’s shoulder when he got up. It was so... intimate.” She leaned fo
rward. “It explains why Mom left. And why Dad was lying.”

  Ashley smiled. “It does explain a lot. But you’re okay with it, right?”

  Hannah paused. She hadn’t even had time to think about that part of it, she was so busy putting the pieces together. She took a minute before answering. “Yeah, I am. I mean, I’m sure when it gets out I’ll get picked on, but—” She thought about it for another minute, “I’m really happy for him.”

  Ashley grimaced. “Yeah. Hopeland isn’t exactly known for its progressive views.” She straightened up, squaring her shoulders. “But if I hear anyone bad-mouthing Mr. G, you know I’ve got his back. And yours.”

  Hannah smiled, “I know, thanks Ash.” She blinked back tears. “Now, about this blogger?”

  “He seemed nice at first. I was so excited to get information out of him that I think I was blabbering,” she began.

  Hannah smiled. Ashley talked a lot in most situations, but when she was nervous or excited, look out.

  “After a few minutes, I realized something was off. Nothing specific—he was just acting a little weird. Like he didn’t know some of the things he should know. I asked him where he came up with his email name and I could tell it took him by surprise. He gave some half-assed answer, and I knew he wasn’t the real blogger. I also knew I was in trouble. As soon as I had the chance, I snapped a few pictures and turned on the voice recorder. By then he was getting agitated.

  “I agreed to leave when he threatened you. I guess you heard that part. We got out to the parking lot, and he wrapped his arm around my neck and shoved a rag over my face. When I woke up, I was...”

  Hannah remembered the terror she’d felt in Mama Bayole’s basement, and she hadn’t been chained to that disgusting mattress in the pitch black. Her jaw tightened, the thought of Ashley’s suffering brought a toxic anger. That fury turned into a dangerous thirst for revenge.

  “I didn’t know where I was. It was so dark and the smell... I had such a headache that at first, I just cried. Finally, I tried to get up and felt the chains.” Ashley crossed her arms across her chest. She glanced toward the window, her expression haunted.

  “Ashley, please, we can finish this later. Whenever you feel up to it.”

  Ashley stared toward the window for a long moment, then turned to Hannah. Her eyes were blazing with ferocity, not fear. Hannah looked away.

  “I was so scared, Hannah. You’ve heard people say they were paralyzed with fear? That’s a real thing. I couldn’t move. I wondered if I was dead. It was so dark and quiet. I forced myself to calm down and remembered being half-dragged through the woods to where the foot was. It was so vague, like the remnants of a bad dream...” Ashley took a moment to gather her thoughts. “Eventually, I broke down. I screamed and screamed until I couldn’t anymore. Nobody came.”

  Outside, the sounds of cicadas and crickets paused. Both girls turned toward the window. Scout picked his head up off the bed, sniffing. Something, a coyote probably, howled in the distance. Scout let loose a low growl and his head flopped back down on the bed. The insects resumed their night music and the girls exhaled in unison.

  “The room was soundproofed,” Hannah said quietly.

  Ashley looked at her, confused. Hannah quickly recounted her own time in Mama Bayole’s cellar. Ashley’s eyes filled with tears.

  “You... you went down there? What if...?” She bit her lower lip.

  Hannah just shrugged. “You would have done the same for me.”

  The truth was Hannah didn’t know where the courage to do it had come from. Just thinking about it now sent trails of goosebumps up her arms and made her heart beat crazily.

  Ashley was looking at her with an expression Hannah couldn’t identify.

  “Eventually someone came. I didn’t know until the flashlight clicked on. I couldn’t see anything, could barely keep my eyes open against the brightness. I felt a jab in my shoulder. Next thing I knew I was on the stone slab.”

  Benson had told them the doctors had done an emergency tox-screen and found evidence of Propofol, a powerful sedative, in Ashley’s blood.

  Was one of the cult members a nurse or a doctor?

  “It was like a dream, or a nightmare, I guess. It was still daylight, barely. Dusk. The torches were already lit. People drifted around in those robes like blood-colored ghosts. I started screaming. Two of them came over to me. It... it was like one of those alien abduction movies. They stared at me while I screamed my throat raw. All I saw were their eyes shining behind the hoods. They looked at each other, one pulled out a needle, and I was out again.”

  Hannah said a silent prayer of thanks. Ashley being drugged through most of the night was probably a blessing. She couldn’t imagine being tied down, having to watch that crazy ceremony from the cold stone slab. It was too much to even think about. She wondered if Ashley would ever be Ashley again.

  “Do you think the real blogger, Susan, got away?” Ashley’s voice cracked and she wiped her eye with the heel of her hand.

  Would either of us get through a day without tears?

  “I’m sure they spotted her when she set the fire, but it all happened so fast.”

  Hannah thought about it again, closing her eyes and trying to picture the scene.

  “Intruder. Get her!”

  Then chaos.

  “I think she probably got away. People were kind of just running around, nobody seemed to know what to do. Then Mama Bayole saw me. I think maybe they all focused on us. By then, the fire was really spreading, and Susan would have been on the other side of it. Maybe they all just panicked and ran.”

  Hannah wanted to believe Susan had gotten away but wondered if she was just trying to convince herself. Susan’s car had still been at the house when they’d arrived home from giving their statements. The police had sent a tow truck to bring it in as evidence.

  Ashley was looking at Hannah, head cocked. Hannah smiled and raised her eyebrows in question.

  “You saved my life,” she whispered.

  Hannah barely heard the words. A warm flush spread up from her neck to her hairline; she didn’t know why. She looked down at the rug, unsure of what to say. When she looked up, Ashley was still staring at her, smiling now. Hannah finally realized the look on Ashley’s face was gratitude, so profound it made Hannah look away again.

  “Like I said, you’d have done the same for me, Ash.”

  Ashley’s expression turned thoughtful, then she smirked. “Yeah, but I would have done it different. I would have crashed that clearing and laid those suckers out with seven kinds of pain.”

  Hannah’s jaw dropped in mock horror and they burst into laughter. And I was worried about her?

  When they stopped laughing, she told Ashley about meeting up with Marcus at the park and him walking her home. Ashley teased her to no end, but Hannah knew she was happy for her. Their laughter continued until Dad came and told them to wrap it up.

  They drifted off, still giggling, the sounds of the woods drifting in on the cool night breeze.

  Hannah woke the next morning feeling like she’d been hit by a bus. Every muscle in her body resisted her attempts to move by sending shockwaves of pain to her brain. She climbed out of bed like an old lady, thinking about that commercial where the woman yelled, “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”

  She was surprised to see the bed empty. A ripple of fear shot through her. What if they came and took her? The fear dissolved when she heard Ashley’s laughter from the other room. Hannah shuffled out to the kitchen where Ashley sat with Dad and Officer Benson. They all turned when she stepped into the room.

  Dad smiled. “Good morning.” He glanced up at the clock. “Barely.”

  Hannah gave him her best “you’re not funny, Dad” look and joined them at the table. She crossed her arms on the table, and rested her head on them, closing her eyes. “Anything new?”

  “No rest for the weary, Hannah. We’re going to the hospital to pick up Jacob. He’s being released.”

&nbs
p; Hannah straightened. “He’s okay? So soon?” The events of the past few days had programmed her to expect the worst.

  “He’s going to be fine. He’s a tough old bird, that one,” Dad said with a laugh.

  Hannah smiled. Mom’s old expression sounded strange coming out of Dad’s mouth.

  She rose dramatically to her feet. “I’ll get dressed. Can we drive by Mama Bayole’s? I just need to see it...” The words were out before she had even thought about them. She noticed Dad and Benson exchange a look.

  “Sure, but we’re not stopping.” Dad spoke carefully, measuring each word.

  Hannah nodded and went to her room. She dressed quickly and threw on her Sea Dogs cap, wondering what compelled her to want to see the burned ruins of Mama Bayole’s farmhouse.

  Yesterday’s clothes had been tossed on the floor in a messy pile. Hannah grabbed them to put them in the laundry before Dad gave her a hard time about it, when something fell and bounced onto the rug. She looked down, confused, not recognizing the object. The clothes fell back to the floor and she bent down, picking up the small gold locket as if it were a fragile relic. A foggy memory surfaced of trying to get comfortable in the rocky crevice, something digging into her back.

  She held the locket close to her face, staring in disbelief. Could it really be?

  She flipped it open. A grainy, faded picture of a woman holding a small child, both smiling, both dressed in what Ashley would call “olden days” clothes. Hannah closed the locket, slipped it into her pocket and went to join the others.

  Hannah and Ashley huddled in the backseat as Dad drove toward Mama Bayole’s. It was clear he wasn’t thrilled about going there, based on his old-man-slow speed and the million times his eyes flicked to the rearview mirror to look at her. Hannah kept her eyes forward and pretended not to notice, waiting for the scorched remains of the farm to come into view. All the windows were down, and she smelled charred wood in the air long before she saw the ruins. As they neared the house, Hannah’s heart pounded, hard and fast. Ashley clamped a hand on her knee. Ash’s fear and anxiety had to be a hundred times worse than her own.