by Brandon Enns
"I'm sorry. I just wanted us all to pump the brakes and relax. We didn't agree to any of this shit."
"I agree. We shouldn't have to do this anymore. We didn't know what the hell we were consenting to. He completely blindsided us." Erin hesitated and spoke again. "Let's go get him. If he plays dumb, we'll threaten to leave."
Trevor's eyebrows raised in surprise. "I'll get dressed and we'll go."
"What if he's not there?" Skye's eyes welled up again.
"He'll be there," said Trevor and smiled wide. “Skye… Don’t take this loser seriously. Ashton is fine.”
***
They wailed on the door and got no answer. Of course, it was locked.
The urge to vomit was kept at bay as Trevor distracted her from it, taking off in the other direction toward the old man's cabin without consulting them first. Erin remembered Stefan mentioning Bruce but had never met the man. She and Skye followed.
Bruce was quick to answer the door. His hair was thick and combed to the side, white and gray, weaving in and out. He was a massive man, his face wide, his neck nonexistent. He was a little taller than Trevor and was wider in the shoulders, which was saying something, because Trevor wasn't small.
His face was expressionless, his white eyebrows making a perfect line across his prominent brow ridge.
"Do you know where Stefan is?" Trevor asked, devoid of friendly notes.
Bruce scratched his chin and walked back inside. He came back with a hot cup of coffee, the warm steam rising from his cup. "Should be inside that damned place of his."
"He's not answering."
"Maybe he's sleeping. City kid probably needs his nap time." He sipped his coffee.
Erin cut in, hoping he'd be more amicable with her. She used her exaggerated, quiet-Erin voice. "Our friend Ashton disappeared last night. We're really worried."
It was difficult to get a read on him, but he seemed to empathize with their situation.
"After my coffee I could help you look. It's not good to wander around aimlessly."
Trevor cut in. "Listen, we don't want to be a part of this stupid game anymore."
"Excuse me?"
"Mr..." Trevor fished for his last name, but Bruce just stared at him, waiting. Trevor shook his head; nevermind that. "We know you're most likely involved with Trevor in this whole charade, but we aren't finding any humor in this. We'd like our friend back."
Bruce's eyes narrowed and he sipped his coffee again, his eyes locked in on Erin's.
"Please, sir," she said, putting forth her best poor-victim look.
"I got no business with Stefan. I told you. This is my property here. It runs directly a hundred yards that way to the tree line, and this other way here to the kid’s property line. Out back I got another hundred yards to work with. The kid's got part of his garden on my property, but you don't hear me complain. So... I don't know anything about your friend and I've not got a damn thing to do with your pretty-boy host. I had a deal of sorts with the previous owners and within that deal, my ass is staying put. Capiche?"
Erin looked over at Trevor. He never liked being told how it was. He was normally the one taking charge.
“You think I’m happy about this new arrangement? My way of living has been completed upended, and what can I do about it? Be a helpless victim, that’s what. While shithead parades his kiddie friends around what should be mine. He owes me yardage. The chips, they like to fall a certain way, don’t they?”
"We’re sorry for interrupting you. We will try and keep to ourselves. I’m—”
“Not going well so far, is it?”
“I'm Erin. This is Trevor, and Skye."
He looked down on Erin and smiled, his dentures shimmering with a whole new definition of white. "Bruce. Pleasure," he said with a slight grumble. They shook hands. He sipped his coffee once more, "Now, I suppose I could help look for your friend. I can push back my chores. Not a big deal."
"Oh, we'd really appreciate that, sir."
"I'll just finish my coffee and grab my gun." He slammed the door on their face.
"Did he just say gun?" asked Skye.
"That he did."
Eighty-five acres was a decent amount of ground to cover, especially when considering the thickly wooded area clustered on the north end, and also the cliffs.
The sun was fierce again today, burning Erin's skin. Trevor stuck close to her side, while Bruce flanked off to the right, almost out of sight, rifle in hand. They trekked on ahead into the trees toward the cliffs. They had agreed that Bruce would veer west. Trevor and Erin would cover the south end and follow the bend to the west beach. Skye was adamant that she check the rocky ridges again alone, and then she'd go back to Stefan's to see if he had returned.
Erin found it oddly suspicious that Skye was so eager to venture off on her own again considering how upset she was this morning, but she wouldn't take no for an answer, so she let her be.
Having separated from the others, Trevor lowered his head to speak to her quietly. "I don't trust Bruce."
"He's helping us."
"Or so he wants us to think."
"That's some heavy paranoia, if I'm being honest."
"Let's break into his cabin."
"What? You're crazy. Are you kidding me?"
"What's the big deal? We take a peek. In and out. Worst-case scenario we find more information in there about what the hell is going on with Ashton."
"I don’t know..."
"Erin, I don't like any of this. We need to do something. You really think Ashton got lost? This is either part of the game or we got a serious problem here."
His edgy tone frightened her, but he was right.
"Okay." She couldn't believe she was agreeing to such a risky maneuver. "Now?"
He nodded.
Bruce’s cabin's musty smells were largely concealed by a heavy use of lemon Pledge and lemon air freshener. Deer antlers hung on the wall. Erin was surprised to find a brand new Samsung TV mounted in the corner of the room with a recliner lined up for viewing. The log cabin was pretty much exactly as expected; a square box made of logs, animal furs and mountings, and no sign of Ashton.
Erin leafed through some old newspapers, feeling terrifyingly out of place while doing so. "Okay, let's go."
"What? Wait a second. I need to look around here."
"What are you expecting to find?"
"Something incriminating probably."
"Come on. You sound ridiculous."
"Tell me you haven't noticed something weird."
Trevor scampered about, flipping couch cushions and touching along the walls.
"What are you looking for exactly?"
No response. He looked outrageous frantically scattering about.
"We should go," she said.
"There has to be something!" Trevor's eyes were on fire with rage, beyond what she had ever witnessed. Yes, he could be ill-tempered from time to time, but it was like there was someone else behind those pretty dark eyes.
"Trevor. There's nothing here to help."
"You're right. Ashton and the creepy puppet master go missing at the same time on an island the size of my apartment back home. But you know what? They're probably just hanging out. Buddies."
He dropped to the floor and pulled a throw rug out of its spot as he searched for some sort of an underground opening. He looked like a crazed lunatic. He continued to search on his hands and knees. It would have been more fitting if he was in a padded room.
"He's in Stefan's stupid place. There is no other place he could be. Let's go there quickly. Before they get back."
"Okay, but I need you to be calm first." She waited for him to make eye contact.
Erin's pocket started to vibrate against her leg. She slid her hand in and pulled out Trevor's phone. How do I have his phone? She motioned to give it to him but stopped herself.
The vibrations continued to come in as Trevor carried on with his search for hidden clues that weren't there. She tried a password but w
as locked out. She typed in another, 1-2-3-4, and was granted access. Erin tapped on the incoming texts that must have all been delayed from the lack of service.
Erin first examined the cabin for a moment, and then looked back to the phone. She had to do a double take, disbelieving what she was indeed seeing; nude photos of Skye, one after the other flooding in.
"Let's leave, please." He ignored her and kept digging through drawers. "Please!" She startled Trevor, his head jerking toward her.
"Okay. Okay. We'll go to Stefan's again."
The door cracked open and her heart stopped. Bruce walked in with his rifle at his side, and she slid the phone back into her pocket.
After analyzing them, he walked over to his espresso machine and slid a cup with a flower pattern underneath.
He waited for it to finish filling without acknowledging them whatsoever.
"We're sorry for intruding, sir." She tried to sound light and carefree but the fear had crept up into her throat, cracking her timid voice.
The coffee spattered at the end of its brew. He pulled out the cup, walked over to Erin, and stopped. After a moment, he handed her the cup. He walked back to the machine to make another cup, not speaking a word.
"Thanks for helping us look," she said.
He walked the second cup to Trevor.
"Thanks."
Finally, Bruce spoke, looking up at a mounted fish. "I once witnessed a golden eagle fly down and pick up a tarpon bigger than this one. Did it with ease." He admired the mounted fish.
"That's a beauty," Trevor said.
Bruce ignored him. "The golden eagle is such a ruthless bird. Did you know that they will prey on other eagles? If they're hungry enough... It's incredible what something is willing to eat if it's hungry enough. Wouldn't it be something to try and take one of those down? I don't know what would compare."
He faced Trevor. "Have you ever hunted anything before?"
"Can't say I have."
"The first time takes the most courage. The most patience, too. It’s also the most satisfying. It's different. Seeing the life fade from any set of eyes… In that moment, you feel so far away from it all. Like living on an island, I suppose." He smiled and clapped his hands. "How's the coffee?" he asked cheerfully.
Trevor raised the cup to his lips.
Bruce placed his hands on Trevor's shoulders and squeezed, his big denture smile almost cheerful enough not to be menacing. "Strong, I know. It'll give you the energy you need for the day. It's going to be a long one by the looks of it." He gave Trevor’s shoulder a pat and dropped his hands back down to his sides.
"No sign of Ashton out there?" Trevor did his best to stand tall, but Erin could sense how nervous he was.
"No, sorry. Any sign of him in here?" asked Bruce as he looked at the floor. Annoyed, he grabbed a broom and swept dirt toward the entrance.
"All clear." Trevor cleared his throat.
Bruce looked over his shoulder at the bear rug that was tossed to the side.
"Do you like it here?" he asked.
"We're just worried about our friend," Erin said.
"I understand that."
"Well, thanks for the coffee. We better get back out there," said Trevor.
"You should. Hopefully you find your friend and stay a while yet. I'll be back out to help though, you can bet on that."
They nodded politely and set their coffees on the kitchen table before attempting to walk around Bruce to the exit. He blocked their path for a moment and looked into Trevor's eyes, while Erin stood idly by. "Keep your eyes open out there. You don’t want to miss anything."
***
Skye's legs burned as she traversed over the last grooves of the cliff, reaching the top. Slightly above her line of sight were three grassy hills in the shape of elongated breasts. She stopped to catch her breath.
The trip down the backside of the rock was surprisingly difficult, as there were many smooth spots that she had to be careful with to avoid her feet sliding out from under her. Sweat ran down her back, and her legs had doubled in weight.
Visions of her mother, battered and bruised, flashed unnaturally through her mind. It was ingrained in her; a variation of a memory that never existed, now refusing to leave. She had gone so long with a mind free of the tremendous guilt that had ruined her for years, and now it was back in unforgiving form. Walking out that door and leaving her with that monster was the hardest thing she had ever done. It took an absurd amount of drugs and alcohol to move somewhat past it.
She was a pretty woman, her mother. She was taller, more elegant than Skye was. Her legs were long, and her bright green eyes were mesmerizing, and Skye always figured she would have been the most confident woman in the world had it not been for that loser. Her face was slender, hair dark like night falling halfway down her back, skin olive colored, an indent on her cheek from when she had chicken pox. The little crater was a perfect imperfection. As soon as Skye pictured her mother's beauty, the vision was quickly replaced by her eye swollen shut and her nose badly broken.
She was determined to make it to the top of the hill. She grimaced with each step, not willing to let up, battling through the lactic acid that was killing her legs. She clawed at the grass, pulling every ounce of her small body up, nearing the top. Was she desperate to find her boyfriend?
Finally, she reached the top, lungs burning, begging for much needed rest as she wheezed for air on her hands and knees.
The view was not at all what she had expected. It should have been a smaller version of the island they were on, with big beaches and lots of land, trees cleared out to make room for hospitality. But she saw none of that. It was an island almost completely underwater. A small portion in the middle was thick with trees, and she could spot what she thought was a small cabin. One would have to swim quite a distance across without a boat, and there was no way that it was livable over there. Sebastian had lied. Who was he, and why was he there? I should have told Trevor and Erin about him.
Skye could feel a tingling sensation up her spine. There was someone behind her on the hill. She turned.
Sebastian looked at her blankly. "Out for a stroll?"
"What's going on?"
He approached her and placed her hands on the back of his neck. She slid them down to his chest. They stood there intoxicated by one another, breathing each other in. His skin was cold and clammy, but he felt strong and powerful. "Where is Ashton?"
"It will all become clear soon. You can let go of all concern." His tone was different from when she met him in the cave. He was...prophetic? He rubbed her shoulders softly, and then she felt a sharp pricking sensation. Skye winced in pain, but his calm, peaceful eyes never wavered, his smile level. "You've never trusted before, but you can trust me."
Her whole world was suddenly collapsing like an old burning building. Blackness filled the edges. Her body was denser. Unable to hold herself up, her bones feeling like they were melting, he held her against his chest. He spoke, but she didn't feel the soothing vibrations she had felt the first time. "Your mother is gone. You can accept it now. She's gone."
You're a liar! Hate emerged, but the darkness swept her away.
Chapter Fourteen - Stefan
He was trapped. Back pressed against the cold damp wall of the hot spring cave, he debated jumping into the water and holding himself under to hide.
Before he could take action, a man entered. He sprinted to the other opening but was quickly closed off by another dark shadow that was yielding a familiar blade. He should have attacked the other man who was a behemoth, but Stefan was unarmed, and certain he wouldn’t fare well. The decision was moot anyway. He couldn't move. He was paralyzed with inaction, and his head was feverish.
The silhouettes of men had become visible, though he could still not make out their faces. They closed in on him. The large man punched him squarely and the back of the cave cracked the back of his skull. The man stopped and stared at him, but there were no eyes visible. He was living in an a
bstract it seemed. Then, hot steel burned his stomach. Stefan stared down to find an old knife with some kind of engraving on the smooth wooden handle fully immersed into his stomach, blood dripping down onto the ground. He could see no face, only understand the satisfied hate from the intruder as he watched the blood run into the blue hot spring, clouding it murky red and green.
Stefan woke in a pool of sweat, his skin on fire. He tried to lift himself off the bed but he was too weak. He rolled over and grabbed a glass of water next to his bed and drank it quickly. He pulled himself under the sheets again, shivering and sweating in misery, thankful to be alive, but praying for his horrible fever to break. He wanted to think about his guests, the island, the game, the glory, but all he could do was let his eyes close, even though he feared the nightmare would continue or, worse yet, start again from scratch.
He woke again in a couple hours with enough energy to rise. The fever was still raging on, but it was not quite as intense as before. The cold surges had lessened and become more of a sweaty chill.
He willed himself out of bed and moved down the long hallway that toyed with his frightened mind. Too many rooms, too many doors, not enough light, he thought. He labored up the stairs, each step creaking as if they'd been installed sixty years ago. He made it to the kitchen and slid the dimmer switch up all the way, squinting from the sheerness of the light. There was a leftover bowl of soup in the fridge that would hopefully hit the spot just right with some soda crackers.
It settled okay in his stomach and spurred on his hunger, so he ate some more crackers with cheddar cheese. Another hour of rest and he could go check on everyone. He put some Tylenol and ibuprofen into his system and went back to the stairs, but stopped by the window. The power cut and he was left in the dark. He spilled some hot soup on his arm and cursed as he set it down on the kitchen table. Stefan hadn't programmed the lights to cut at this time. It was all wrong.
Leaving his soup to cool off, he was on his way to check his surveillance and power circuit room when he stopped in his tracks. Looking through his window, he saw some of his staff members standing outside in front of his place; Sebastian, Cassidy, and Jhett. What are they doing? Why are they here still? Their shift ended an hour ago and the sun was gone. Stefan gave them a tired wave, but they seemed distracted by something outside. What are they looking at?
