The lights were strobing fast, making it almost impossible to see Teddy’s shadow. I fired. One, two, three shots, as the vessel’s lights glowed intensely. I felt the heat of the burning cabin behind me. The gun was hot and heavy in my hand, and the rain poured relentlessly as I searched for Teddy’s body.
July 20th – 2001
Lights. Bright white light was all I saw, and I felt grass beneath my palms. I gripped at it, somehow feeling like it was my lifeline, my way into the world once again.
“Dad,” I croaked out, trying to remember what happened. I was running home… the Kick-Off. Zoe and Clark. But somehow none of that mattered any longer. Dread spilled through me, and I rolled onto my front, ready to defend myself. My body hurt, my limbs like lead.
I glanced to the side, and there was Mr. Martin’s cabin. I heard voices, distant ones, words I couldn’t comprehend, and then they were gone, leaving me empty and drained of all purpose.
Eventually, I pushed myself to my knees. I tried to stand but fell. Grandma’s cabin loomed a short distance away, but the journey looked lengthy and treacherous to my addled brain. Dad’s Bronco was in the driveway, and I called for him, this time with real volume.
“Dad!” My voice cracked, my throat burning as the word escaped.
I said his name again and again, and crawled now, ever toward the cabin, scanning the area to make sure no one was watching me. I couldn’t shake the feeling of being stared at. It was as if a dozen eyes were blinking in my direction, studying me from beyond the treeline.
Then I saw him. Dad emerged from the cabin, his hair wild. Even from this far away, I knew he was exhausted, red-eyed and sad.
“Dad!” I called one last time, and fell to the ground, knowing everything would be all right, yet fully aware nothing would be all right ever again.
“Jess!” His voice was an anchor I grasped hold of.
I lifted my head, watching him with lead in my body as he ran, crying and shouting for my sister.
A door opened behind me, from Mr. Martin’s house, and I heard footsteps on his porch. I didn’t have the energy to turn, but I knew it was him.
My dad’s face twisted in anger at the man behind me as he approached, protectively wrapping his arms around my frame. He picked me up like I weighed nothing, burying his stubble-covered cheeks into my face.
“Jess,” he whispered. “The police are on the way, Martin.”
I could see our neighbor now, standing there with a bewildered look on his face. “I didn’t do anything! She just showed up here!”
Dad didn’t engage. Zoe was running toward us now, and Dad carried me to our house. Already I heard sirens in the distance. Zoe must have called them as soon as Dad came for me. I didn’t know what day it was. I must have fallen asleep out here after falling to the ground. Images of the night before, the lights strobing, flashed through my memory.
“Where have you been?” Dad brought me inside the cabin, straight to my bed. Zoe came in seconds later with a glass full of water, shoving it into Dad’s hand. “Drink,” he said, and I obeyed, finding the cool water soothed my sore throat.
“I must have dozed off last night. I was coming back from the Kick-Off…” My pillow was so soft behind my head.
“Last night!? Jess, you’ve been gone for a week!” Dad said as the tears fell. Zoe was crying too, standing behind our father as if she were scared of my presence.
A week! It couldn’t be. He was wrong. Another thought raced into my mind. “Where’s Grandma?”
The two of them shared a look, and I instantly knew the worst had happened. I cried freely then. For the loss of my grandma, the one adult female to truly ever love me completely, and for my strange situation, one I couldn’t understand.
“She didn’t make it through the week. The stress… She wanted to tell you she loved you.” Dad was hardly able to choke out the words.
I’d been gone for a week? But where? It didn’t make sense. And my grandma had died thinking I was gone. It was too much to bear.
There was a knock on the door, and Zoe went to answer it. Muffled voices carried to the bedroom, then booted feet followed my sister into our room.
“Good God. Jessica Carver.” The uniformed man came to the bedside, kneeling close to me. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere. What happened?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
His gaze narrowed. “You don’t know?”
“Sheriff McCrae, we found her in Martin’s yard. It was him. We told you it was him,” Dad was shouting, and McCrae stood up.
“We’re going to bring him in. Search the house again. We also need to get your girl to the hospital, run some tests, okay?” The sheriff was calm, and I liked him.
“It was him. She knew it all along. The way he watched her.”
“He was there at the Kick-Off. I remember. He tried to talk to me. Called me Zoe,” I said the words, aware after the fact that I was incriminating the man, even though I didn’t think he’d actually done anything to me. But maybe I was drugged. I’d heard stories of roofies in drinks, that kind of thing. Plus Dad was so sure, I felt the need to go along with him.
Zoe stood in the corner of the room, wearing an oversized sweater, and crossed her arms, staring blankly at me. I remembered her kissing Clark but didn’t care anymore. They’d all been so worried about me, but in my head, I’d blinked and it was a week later.
“Jessica. You stay put here for an hour or so, and when we have Mr. Martin squared away, we’ll take you to the hospital. An ambulance is on the way. The hospital’s only a town over. You’ll be home before you know it, back in bed, okay, honey?” McCrae asked, talking to me like I was a little girl. I didn’t mind at that moment. I almost needed the coddling.
The two adults left the room, leaving my sister and me alone.
“You scared me so much,” Zoe said.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I’m serious,” I told her.
She nodded, accepting my words. “Clark saw you run away. He went after you.”
“He did?” I asked, recalling hearing my voice being called as I bailed from the Kick-Off.
“He grabbed his bike and took the road. I guess he didn’t make it there in time.” Zoe was looking at her bare feet, standing by the doorway. “He was there for every search party, and was here every day, asking how he could help.”
My heart melted, but I didn’t say anything.
“They’re taking him,” Zoe said, and I got up out of bed. I had to see this.
I glanced at Grandma’s closed bedroom door, and sadness washed over me. I’d lost a lot in the past week.
The police car drove by, and Zoe and I watched it from behind the screen door. Dad and the sheriff were outside, and Mr. Martin’s head turned toward our cabin, his gaze locking with mine.
The window was open, and I could hear McCrae’s loud voice from here. “We found the room, Brian.”
“What do you mean?” Dad asked him.
“There was a trap door under the carpet in the living room. Leads to a cellar. We’re bringing in a forensic team from Portland to scour it. This is Cloud Lake. We’re not equipped for a case like this,” McCrae said.
A room? They were acting like Mr. Martin had taken me and locked me up for a week. Could that be?
“She had no signs of injections on her arms. No wounds on her wrists,” Dad said.
“The doctors will run tests. Find out what we’re working with. There’s something else. We found a stash of drugs. A little of everything. It was like a pharmacy down there,” McCrae said. “We also found this.” He held his hand out to my dad, and I saw my necklace in a plastic bag.
“That’s my wife’s. Or was. How did…” Dad’s eyes met mine, and I nodded to him, confirming I’d been wearing it.
An ambulance arrived, lights flashing, the siren turned off, and I flinched as Zoe reached out to touch my arm. “We’d better go. Do you need anything else? Water? Bathroom?”
I nodded, accepting
her help as we went to the bathroom. “I’ll be right here.” Zoe shut the door behind me, and I stared in the mirror. I felt two years older; my skin was pale and tight on my emaciated face. I was all eyes and cheekbones, my hair a mess of tangles.
The vanity strip flickered with a common power surge, and I screamed, thinking they were back. Zoe was inside a moment later, cradling me as I lay on the cool tile floor in the fetal position.
“It’ll be okay.” She stroked my head in her lap, repeating the phrase over and over, acting like the mother I never knew.
She was wrong, though. I wouldn’t ever be okay again.
July 16th – 2020
I was on all fours, and I saw the figure approaching, the lights no longer flickering. “Dad!” I shouted, instantly knowing I was in the wrong time. Clark’s face appeared, and he bent down, carrying me from the burning building beside us. It was engulfed in flames, and he set me on Grandma’s grass, the same area I’d cut only a day before. It felt like forever ago.
“Where is he?” I asked Clark, his face inches from mine. I was sure they’d taken him. The Grays had returned for me but had taken Teddy instead.
A light turned on abruptly, and I recoiled in fear. Wind blew hard, scattering rain against us, and I now understood the whooshing sound. A helicopter was lowering to the ground, its searchlight scanning as it arrived. It hadn’t been a UFO after all.
Clark’s face was grim. “Teddy’s right over there.”
I couldn’t believe it. It had been them. The flashing lights, the same place as I’d been taken.
I scrambled away from Clark, trudging through the mud to get to Teddy’s side. The gun was still in my hand, and I flinched when I noticed it, tossing it away. It landed with a sickening squelch ten yards from us. My hands found Teddy’s face, and I pulled his head up. His eyes stared lifelessly, his knowing grin wiped from his demeanor.
Clark was there, grabbing my shoulders. He dragged me from the body. “Jess.” He kissed me on the forehead, pulling me into a protective embrace. “Jessica Carver. How can it be you?”
“How did you find out?” I shouted over the sound of the helicopter.
“I can’t believe I didn’t clue in earlier. Now that I know, I can’t unsee the teenage version of you trapped in this beautiful woman,” he said, and I loved him for it.
“Isabelle?” I asked, assuming he had to have talked to the waitress.
He nodded. “She called me. Told me about your story. About Teddy Martin. I haven’t seen him in years but assumed he still lived out here. And I still remember where your cabin was,” he told me.
“I must have blocked it, along with so much else, but you came for me that night. The night I saw you kissing Zoe.”
“That wasn’t me. I found her, asking where you were. She kissed me. I didn’t initiate it…”
I put a finger to his lips. “Thanks for coming.”
“I was too slow. I rode my bike that night but got lost. I’d only come out with you once, and I took the wrong turn. Maybe I could have stopped him.”
“You stopped Teddy now.”
I hardly noticed the helicopter landing, or the men pouring from inside, until one of them was pulling us apart. Clark was shouting at them, but I didn’t hear his words. They held him back, separating us.
They dragged me past the dead body, and seconds later, I was inside the helicopter, the very same object I’d mistaken for one of their vessels. My ankle throbbed as I sat there, my head pounding alongside it.
“Stop!” I yelled, finally letting my voice out. I’d been in shock, and the picture around me was becoming clearer. These were military men, and one of them was outside, detaining Clark. “He comes with us.”
A uniformed woman glanced at a man beside the pilot. He wasn’t wearing a uniform like the others; he was in a black suit, and the man didn’t even hesitate as he made one small nod.
“Bring him!” the woman called to the man restraining Clark, and soon the two of us were together inside the military helicopter. His fingers stretched over, enveloping my hand. As we lifted from the ground, Teddy’s corpse came into view. Dead. I’d killed him.
We were in the air for less than ten minutes, so I knew the base was close to Cloud Lake. I found the fact intriguing. Now that my head was screwed on straight, I took in my surroundings. It was ominously dark out, rain pounding the exterior, and the two soldiers held guns firmly, though they weren’t pointing them at us, which I took as a good sign.
Clark peered around nervously, and part of me wished I hadn’t mixed him up in any of this. On the other hand, I knew I’d be dead without his intervention, and I was eternally grateful he was at my side. His arm was draped around me, and he was helping me walk across the wet grass, taking the brunt of my weight.
“Where are we?” he whispered into my ear as we were led across the grassy patch toward a barn on the outskirts of a cornfield.
“I’m not sure.” I was sensing a strange energy from this whole place. I considered demanding they call McCrae so we could tell him what happened. Talk to him about how Teddy had killed Clare and Dan, how he’d set up this entire thing to seek vengeance on a young girl who was now a woman. But I didn’t think this group was interested in dealing with local law enforcement.
“How did we not know there was a government agency sniffing around?” Clark asked.
I shrugged, careful not to say anything specific within earshot of the soldiers.
They directed us into the barn, which had several rooms erected along the old walls. From the looks of this place, they’d been here a while. The woman patted us each down, finding nothing of use. She pulled the folded drawing from my pants and passed it to the man in the suit. He shoved it into his breast pocket.
Clark and I stood beside each other, dripping pools of water onto the wooden floor. All signs of hay had been swept away, and the soldiers moved out, leaving the two of us with the suit.
He was tall, maybe forty-five, with short black hair flattened from the rain. “Normally I’d separate you two and see what I could learn. But I have the feeling that’s not going to work this time.” He looked at the way Clark was holding me up, and almost smiled.
I shook my head, unsure of what to say.
The man pointed to the nearest room. “Come. Let’s get settled inside.”
The female soldier returned right before we entered the doorway and passed a towel to both Clark and me, as well as to the suit, who waved it away. We dried off as best we could, and a chill coursed through me as my brain realized the implications of tonight. I’d almost died. I’d killed a man.
“It’s okay,” Clark whispered, helping me into the room.
The walls were stark white, the table black and cheap, just like the matching folding chairs. It all looked sterile and quickly thrown together. Nothing adorned the walls, but I saw blinking lights on cameras mounted on either side of the space.
The unnamed man motioned for us to sit at the far side of the table, and Clark nearly had to carry me there. My ankle was aching so badly. I sat, relieved to be off my feet, and rubbed my raw wrists where the rope had dug in.
In the light, I finally saw the damage Teddy had inflicted on Clark. His eye was already puffing out, and his lip was split. Dried blood caked under his nose. My heart melted for the man who’d come to my rescue. I didn’t care if this suit was inside the room or not. I lifted an arm, carefully touched Clark on the face, and kissed him softly.
“Thank you,” I told him.
“For what?”
“For saving me.”
“You seem to have done a fairly good job yourself,” he said, forcing a smile.
“Just… thank you.”
The suit cleared his throat. “What happened tonight?”
“Who are you?” I asked him.
“That’s not important,” he retorted.
“It is to me,” I said.
“You killed a man. We witnessed this.”
“What are you going
to tell McCrae?” I asked. “You took me from the crime scene. I need to speak to the sheriff and tell him what happened.”
“Better yet, you tell me, and I’ll relay the details.” He opened the door, and a young man in uniform walked in with three cups of steaming coffee on a tray and a carton of cream. He pulled a few sugar packets from his pockets and set it all down in front of us, passing a black coffee to his comrade.
“He’s bribing us with coffee. You better tell him everything,” Clark said, jokingly but with a hint of malice.
“Seriously. What are you? FBI? CIA? Why is the military in Cloud Lake?” I asked, trying to gauge his reaction. He didn’t flinch.
“As I stated, that’s not important. Tell me what happened.” He finally sat, getting on a level playing field with us.
I grabbed a coffee, feeling the need for the heat, poured a dab of cream in, and sipped it. Instantly, my brain was less fried. Clarity in caffeine. It was something Harry at the office used to say. I resigned myself to opening up, figuring there was no harm in telling him a version of my story.
I told him about going missing for a week as a teenager, about the trial of Peter Martin, and how his son posed as John Oliver, luring me to Cloud Lake by bribing my down-on-his-luck boss. He listened, only asking the odd question. By the end, I told him how Teddy was going to kill us both, and I shot him in self-defense.
He asked where I’d found the gun, and I told him it was Teddy’s. I wasn’t going to rat out Chester, and if they somehow traced it back to the old farmer, we could always suggest Teddy had stolen it from him. I doubted it was registered to Chester anyway.
At no point did I mention UFOs or flashing lights, or my memories, which were seeping back with vivid lucidity. The man must have sensed this, because he opened his jacket, unfolded the paper, and slammed it down on the table. Our coffees shook, Clark’s spilling.
“What is this?” His voice was low, but I could see the intensity in his eyes.
It was the drawing of me in what appeared to be a hospital bed. A figure watched me from across the room: a long, slender one, with eyes as black as coal.
Lights Over Cloud Lake Page 25
