by K. F. Baugh
Sage shoved one container aside and scanned through the mail, looking for anything addressed to her. Most of it was for Liddy or junk, but the headline of the day-old Sunday newspaper caught her eye. She sat on a wobbly barstool and read.
Two Local Teens Still Missing
Shaun Colter and Tabitha Smalley disappeared around the time of Thursday night’s fireworks celebration. The Sheriff’s Department and Search and Rescue have widened their search from the Black Mills area to include the Oriel Valley and the area surrounding Shelton Reservoir after a local man recalled seeing Colter’s car traveling north on Highway 15.
Speak of the devil, Sage frowned. Having just left the place in broad daylight, she couldn’t imagine driving around it at night. Did the scientists chase you with pitchforks once the sun went down? Sage read on.
Dr. Terrance Storm, Science Director of the Oriel Biological Research Station (OBRS), has appointed a liaison to coordinate with local officials. OBRS is working closely with the Highdale County’s Sheriff’s Department in their continuing effort to locate the missing teens. Storm offered the use of the laboratory’s low-flying, military grade helicopter and all-terrain vehicles for the search.
Storm said, “OBRS’s thoughts and hopes are united with our neighbors in Black Mills. We will continue to offer support in any way we can, thankful for the continued symbiotic relationship between our two communities.”
“Symbiotic relationship?” Sage snorted. “Whatever that means.”
Tossing the newspaper to the counter, Sage found a chipped glass in the kitchen cabinet and filled it with tap water. While she sipped, her mind pictured the teens driving their car around deserted mountain roads, illuminated by the eerie glow of Black Mills’s fireworks. She glanced at the paper once more and shook her head. For their sake, Sage hoped that Shaun and Tabitha hadn’t gotten lost around Oriel. What a disturbing place to wander. Unless you were a marmot.
A few hours later, after she’d showered and unpacked, Sage paced the floor. Gus opened one eye from the bed, where he’d remained comatose since their arrival home, but otherwise refused to acknowledge her presence. Sage wished she could join him. Even though she was physically tired, nervous energy buzzed inside her like an over-caffeinated high, and she couldn’t stay still.
Her stomach rumbled, and Sage almost laughed with the relief of something to do. She needed to restock her tiny supply cabinet with dry goods for her next mountain excursion. Grabbing a backpack, she gave Gus an ear scratch and headed for the grocery store.
A large, unconcerned Husky trotted down the middle of the deserted main street. Gray-blue mountain peaks towered above the clapboard wooden buildings that lined the sidewalk. Only a few stores were open. With the temporary lull in business, most locals chose to be somewhere else: a wildflower-strewn alpine meadow or whispering pine forest. Even if they had to cater to the tourists most weekends in order to earn their daily bread, the residents of Black Mills accepted the rest of the week as a gift of nature and solitude.
Evidence of upcoming events, however, papered community boards and storefront windows. Hidden under an advertisement for the upcoming Honey Festival, Sage saw a flier for the Black Mills Health Fair/Dental Clinic and the Summer Nights Half Marathon. She wouldn’t attend either but made a mental note to remind Liddy about them.
The door jingled as she entered Black Mills’s Grocery Stop. Sage nodded to a checker who looked up from her magazine. The girl’s gaze quickly slid back to her reading.
Hoping her favorite energy bars were in, Sage walked straight to the snack aisle on the far side of the store. Her gaze fell on the familiar cardboard box. Empty again. Did no one else in Black Mills enjoy white chocolate and macadamia nuts? She’d have to settle for another flavor.
“Sage, honey, is that you?”
“Liddy,” Sage smiled and allowed herself to be pulled into the older woman’s arms and crushed against the barrel-sized chest. She shifted her face to Liddy’s shoulder. “I was at the house all morning, but I didn’t see you.”
Liddy gave her one last squeeze and pushed back. “I was up at the Daydreamer Cabin. We have some new folks coming in this weekend, and I needed to get it all cleaned up.” She smiled and gestured to the ratty oversized T-shirt and dingy sweatpants. “Some of the shingles on the front porch overhang are loose. Think you could take a look at that and get it fixed this week?”
Sage rolled her eyes. “Liddy, that roof is hanging on with dental floss and chewing gum. I keep telling you, if you don’t replace the whole thing soon, it’ll blow away with the next strong wind.”
“I know, sweetie, but couldn’t you please work your magic on it one more time?” Liddy ran her fingers through her disheveled salt and pepper curls. “I just replaced some old pipes at the Joyful Cabin and don’t have any extra cash right now.”
“Fine. I’ll see what I can do,” Sage sighed, aware that Liddy never had any extra cash. Despite Sage’s constant harping about long-term upkeep on the rental cabins, Liddy gave away nearly as much money as she earned. The older woman had the tenderest heart of anyone Sage knew, which was the main reason Liddy’s was the only foster home Sage hadn’t run away from. It was also the reason why Sage continued to live with her, helping with the never-ending list of repairs needed on Liddy’s rentals, ones which Liddy found harder and harder to take care of on her own. The older woman had helped Sage when she needed it most. That was something Sage would never forget even though Liddy often drove her crazy.
“Where’s Gus?”
“Back at the house,” Sage answered.
Liddy followed Sage around as she did her shopping and caught her up on all the local news, not that she really cared. When she wasn’t away in the mountains or helping Liddy with her rentals, Sage kept to herself. After several minutes of mindless chatter, Liddy brought up Shaun and Tabitha.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about those two,” Liddy said, shaking her head. “They’re locals, born and raised. They wouldn’t get lost in either Black Mills or that area around Oriel.”
“Excuse me, Liddy.” A voice came from behind them. Elena Goodrich, the town librarian and city council member, stood with her cart next to them. “Can you move? I need to get to the cereal behind you.”
“We were just talking about Tabitha and Shaun.” Liddy said, ignoring Elena’s request. “I was telling Sage there’s no way they could be lost. The school takes so many field trips up to that neck of the woods, the kids have that place memorized by the time they’re out of grade school. It doesn’t make any kind of sense.”
“Well, the authorities in charge of the case feel--”
“And then,” Liddy interrupted Elena, “I talked to Fred Conners today, and he said Search and Rescue discovered Shaun’s car a few miles up from the reservoir.”
“It didn’t say that in the paper,” Sage said.
“They found it late last night,” Elena snapped. “Sheriff Davis told us not to say anything. Fred should have kept his big mouth closed.”
“Were they in an accident?” Liddy asked.
Elena eyed the two of them stonily for several seconds. Then she shrugged. “Since Fred blabbed everything else, I guess it’s alright to tell you. Sheriff Davis said the doors were left wide open, and the battery’s dead. But there weren’t any signs of an accident or struggle.”
“Well, that still doesn’t sound good,” Liddy said. “My heart just breaks for their parents.”
Even Elena’s sour expression turned glum at this observation.
“And both of them such good kids too,” Liddy shook her head. “Tabitha’s been accepted to some fancy Ivy League school out east, and Shaun had a full-ride scholarship to some big Midwestern school. Sweet boy that he is, he gave the scholarship up to take over at his daddy’s restaurant. Enos Colter’s been in bad health you know, so Shaun said he’d run the restaurant until his dad was feeling better. Course, there’s no better for old age—”
“He gave up his scholarship?” Sage
cut in, knowing Liddy could ramble for hours. “But he was amazing. Everyone said he was going to be a legend.”
“Honey, that’s the truth. There was barely room in the bleachers for us ordinary folks at times, what with all the college scouts hanging around with their jaws down to the ground. But Tabitha was just the same with school. From what her mother said, she pretty much had her pick of what school she wanted to attend.” Liddy pulled a tissue from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes.
“Why were they out together?” Sage asked, briefly touching Liddy’s arm. “Were they a couple?”
“Not as I know of.” Liddy took a deep breath. “Just friends.”
After another few moments of grieved silence, Sage spoke. “Well, I’d better get back to my shopping. I have a collapsing roof to check on.”
“I need to go too. We have another incident meeting scheduled for this afternoon,” Elena said. She grabbed a box of cereal and tossed it into her cart. “But first, I’ve agreed to be with Sheriff Davis when he meets with the parents to update them.” She grimaced. “If the two of you could keep your insider information quiet until after we break the news to the parents, I’m sure we’d all appreciate it.”
Sage and Liddy watched her walk briskly away.
“She’s a grumpy old fart, but I feel bad for her. Meeting with the parents would break anyone’s heart.” Liddy turned and pulled Sage into another bear hug. “Now, I know you’re little Miss Hermit of the Woods, but promise me you’ll be careful out there, wherever it is you wander off to.”
Sage bristled. “I’m fine, Liddy. You know I live out there more than I live in town. I can take care of myself.”
“Now don’t get all prickly. Of course you can take care of yourself. You’ve been doing it since they dropped your little fourteen-year old butt on my doorstep--”
“Fifteen.”
“What?” Liddy asked.
“Fifteen. I was fifteen,” Sage said, louder this time.
“Fine. Your fifteen-year old butt. The point is …” Liddy paused and dabbed at her eyes again. “The point is, I want you to be safe, honey. And happy.”
“I can promise safe,” Sage said and patted the older woman on the shoulder. “Now stop worrying. Gus wouldn’t let anything happen to me.”
Liddy nodded, pulled Sage into one more hug before her phone beeped and she had to rush away to another landlord emergency. Sage crouched back down, absently clutched a few bars and considered the information Elena had shared.
Even with her loner ways, Sage remembered Shaun and Tabitha. They’d been sophomores when she was a senior. Sage hadn’t seen much of them, but everybody knew everybody in a small mountain town high school. Not to mention that it would have been nearly impossible to miss the shining reputations of Shaun and Tabitha.
They were in countless newspaper articles, won every town award, were at every community gathering. Sage also knew they came from safe homes with good parents. The kids who won everything and got scholarships to fancy colleges always came from homes like that. A wave of bitterness washed through her. Maybe their perfect little lives hadn’t prepared them for whatever they’d faced in Oriel.
Suddenly her vision dimmed, and Sage’s mind swam with dark images of a deserted car and muffled screams.
Go now! Something deep within her gut clenched then pulsed through her chest with an electric jolt that shot Sage to her feet. Dropping the granola bars, she abandoned her shopping and raced back down the street toward Gus and her Jeep. Sean and Tabitha were in terrible danger. Their suffering burned through her consciousness, her body, almost as if it were her own.
As she sprinted down the street, the 4x4 trails around Oriel appeared in Sage’s mind like a topographical map. She knew the entire area better than most, at least as well as the Search and Rescue teams that were combing the area. Maybe she could explore a few places that the authorities had overlooked.
Chapter Four
The sun burned high in the midday sky as Sage wound her way through the disappearing, almost forgotten, logging and mining roads that ringed the rims of the Oriel valley. Ancient aspen, taller here than anywhere she’d ever seen, arched graceful arms to create a rippling green canopy above stark white trunks. In the fall, this would be a pathway of gold, something that looked like it came from the imagination of an artist. But thanks to the condition of the ragged trails and the brevity of human memory, deer, mountain lion, and other wildlife would be the sole beneficiaries of the beauty.
When she saw a meadow through the fluttering aspen leaves, Sage pulled off the road to give the tense muscles in her neck and shoulders a rest. Even though she knew the route, navigating potholes, boulders, and washouts took a toll on her body. She had barely rolled to a stop when Gus leapt from the half door and dashed into the woods.
“Don’t go too far!” Sage hollered after him before grabbing her water bottle.
She opened the lid and leaned against the hood of her car. A breeze sent loose tendrils of dark hair across Sage’s cheek and forehead. The forest fell silent and suddenly a picture appeared in her mind: a cave with a glassy pool in front of it, pieces of clothing strewn about the edge of the water, and turbulent pockets of mud and dirty snow marked the edges, hinting at a struggle. Sage tried to turn her mind’s eye back toward the opening of the cave, but something stopped her. A jagged rush of screams and terror sliced through her. And blood, everywhere blood.
Sage took a gulp of cold air and opened her eyes. “Oh, Wind,” she whispered. “Please don’t let it be that bad.”
Birdsong returned. A squirrel chattered from the trees above her, but the Wind, aside from its gentle sigh through the leaves, remained silent.
“Come on, Gus,” Sage hollered. “It’s time to go.”
The words were barely out of her mouth before she heard the jingle of dog tags and Gus reappeared. Sage opened her door and the dog hopped across her seat, over to the passenger’s side.
About an hour later, Sage suddenly felt the urge to stop. Ahead, she saw a small pullout area and nosed the Jeep over the last few feet of the rugged trail.
Sage found her ragged topographical map in the glove compartment and studied it. After several minutes, she decided she was near one of the old uranium mines. It lay a couple of miles behind the Shelton Reservoir, near the ridge that separated the Black Mills and Oriel Valleys.
After she climbed from the car with Gus, Sage tried to silence her thoughts. She had no idea what to do from here. It was time for the Wind to lead her. She knew from past experience that if she listened, the Wind would usually take her where she was needed.
But never to people, the thought interrupted. Sage remembered what had the Wind told her the other night. “A change is coming … as yet, it’s only been four legged ones.”
Her stomach clenched. The vision she’d seen earlier didn’t seem to hint at protection or help. Instead, it cried death. Still, she had to try. Suffering, even if it wasn’t hers, filled her with visceral, debilitating agitation.
Sage took a deep breath and felt a tug toward the swishing pines at her right, along with a deep foreboding. Hesitantly, she turned back to the Jeep and pulled out a backpack filled with water, some food, and a light jacket. She put a flashlight in the pocket of her cargo pants and slipped a game knife onto her belt.
“Forgetting anything?” She turned to Gus. He gave a half-hearted wave of his tail and trotted to the tree line. Sage took a deep breath and followed.
After several hundred yards of overgrown brush, the forest began to clear. Gus had found some kind of path. On its little used twists and turns, she noticed signs of recent foot traffic: a broken shrub branch, a hardened footprint in the mud, trampled grass, scattered leaves. As she walked further, dread uncurled in her stomach. Gus, who had been running out of sight, returned to her side.
“You feel it too, buddy?” She whispered. Gus whined but continued his steady pace.
After one last bend, they walked into an opening encircled by a lar
ge buttress of rock. A deep, dusty depression lay in front of the old mine. The entrance was barred with rotten wood planks and a sign that leaned crazily to one side.
“Dan e eep ou,” was all that remained of the sign’s original warning.
A vague sense of déjà vu filled Sage as she scanned the clearing. It looked so similar to the place the Wind had shown her in the vision, but there was no snow or mud here. She crouched and ran her fingers over the hardened, dusty ground. She traced several sets of footprints, at least five that she could identify as separate and distinct. There was, however, no sign of a struggle. All the footprints led to the rotted planks in front of the old mine.
The Wind rushed through the evergreens around her, sounding like the crash of a large waterfall. The scent of pine pollen filled the air, and a woodpecker hammered a staccato beat that accompanied the rustling branches. All normal, peaceful forest sounds, but the misgiving in her stomach grew. Gus whimpered and leaned against her.
Sage stood. She pulled a flashlight from her pocket and tested it, even though she’d replaced the batteries that morning. You’re stalling, she told herself. The realization didn’t sit well.
Sage approached the entrance and peered under a board into the darkness. All encompassing, the gloom gulped the flashlight’s beam greedily like a living thing, the glow swallowed only inches from her hand. She knew with every fiber of her being that something evil lay within the mine. But she also knew she had to go in.
Gus whined again. She gently hooked his collar with her fingers and led him toward the trees at the edge of the clearing.
Sage dropped the backpack from her shoulders and set it next to the dog. She rummaged through it until she found her flannel shirt. “This might be bad. You okay to go in with me? You can stay out here if you want.”
