Colony of the Lost

by Derik Cavignano

  That should have eased his mind, but the agents wouldn’t allow him the luxury to relax. They kept grilling him with the same questions over and over, firing from different angles, trying to get him to contradict himself. They knew there was something he wasn’t telling them, something important to their investigation. They didn’t seem to believe him when he said he didn’t know the man who attacked him.

  “Tell me something, Gallagher. Here we have this guy who preys on little children, a guy who most likely rapes and kills them. You don’t know him. In fact, you’ve never seen him before in your life. But tonight, out of the blue, he decides that children are too easy to kill, so he breaks into a house at random and attacks a man half his age and probably a good deal stronger. Now, does that make any sense to you?”

  “No, but rape and murder don’t make sense to me either. The guy’s a psycho. Why should he be expected to behave rationally?”

  Calhoun leaned across the table, his ski slope of a nose just inches from Jay’s face. “Here’s what I think, Gallagher. I think you know the guy who did it, but he’s got something on you. And you think if you give him up, he’ll tell us all about your dirty little secrets.”

  Jay glanced out the car window and sighed. Why had he lied? Why hadn’t he just said the guy looked a lot like his mailman? What if the guy killed another kid by the time someone recognized him in the sketch? How would he live with himself?

  He rubbed his temples and gazed at the distant peaks of the Berkshires, the green hills shrouded in an early morning mist. He shook his head. “How did my life get to be so screwed up?”

  “I think we both know the answer to that,” Steve said. “But it doesn’t have to be that way. You can beat this thing, take your life back. But you can’t do it on your own.”

  “I know.”

  “There’s a place in Lenox, a rehab, probably the best in the state. You think about it. We’ve known each other our whole lives, so I’m not going to lie to you. You’ve got a problem. And I don’t want to watch you turn into your father. But I’m afraid that if you don’t do this soon, that’s exactly what will happen.”

  Steve steered the car into Jay’s driveway.

  “All right,” Jay said. “I’ll think about it. But there’s something I’ve got to do first.”

  ***

  As soon as Jay got inside, he swallowed three Advil and sank into the sofa. He wondered if Crystal had heard about what happened. In all likelihood, she had. Word traveled fast in Glenwood. Even with the feds on the case, the news would leak and people would talk and his name would take another dragging through the mud.

  Why had he allowed himself to get drunk last night? Whatever chance he had of getting Crystal back was gone now. Pissed away like last night’s beer. But he couldn’t blame her. She’d given him more chances than he deserved, and all he ever did was take advantage of her. He never thought she’d actually follow through on her threats, especially not after he’d bought her that diamond.

  He chewed a fingernail. All right. Got to think. Got to figure a way out of this. He concentrated hard, but all he could see in his mind was a frosty bottle of Sam.

  He paced through the house, circling through the living room, into the kitchen, and back again. He poured himself a glass of ice water and sucked it down.

  There. Not thirsty anymore.

  He returned to the sofa and sat awhile in silence.

  Got to keep the thoughts flowing. No time for distractions.

  His eyes wandered to the crimson splotches on the hardwood floor, and his mind brought him back to the moment the bullet ripped into the man’s shoulder. The guy had just stood there, clutching his wounded arm, his eyes clouded in confusion. Like he’d just woken up from a dream. There was something strange about the guy, something more than just the crazy way his eyes had changed color ... or seemed to change color.

  I am the One and the Many, the Hunter and the Hunted … and all things in between.

  It didn’t make sense. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the man who cowered from him after being shot was somehow different from the man who had broken into his house and brought him a beer.

  Maybe he’s schizophrenic.

  Jay reached for his cell phone and looked up the number for the Post Office.

  A man’s voice picked up on the fourth ring.

  “I was wondering if you could help me,” Jay said. “Yesterday, my son choked on a piece of candy in front of the house and my mailman gave him the Heimlich maneuver. Saved his life. I tried to give him a reward, but he wouldn’t take anything. Please, if you would just tell me his name ...”

  “I’d be glad to,” the man said. “Where do you live?”

  “Eleven South Maple.”

  Paper rustled in the background. “Okay. That’d be Ted Richardson. He worked your route yesterday.”

  Jay nodded and wrote the name down on the back of an envelope. “Is Ted the guy who normally delivers my mail?”

  Another pause. More paper rustling. “Ah, no. That would be Frank Patterson. He’s been out sick the past couple days.”

  “Oh. Okay. Thanks.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Jay hung up the phone and grinned. Sick, huh?

  ***

  Jay stood in front of the 7-Eleven on Main Street and fumbled open a blister pack of Trident. From his vantage point, he could see number 352—a small colonial with black shutters and a dilapidated picket fence. He shielded his eyes from the sun and stared across the street at the flagstone walkway choked with weeds. Three windows ran the length of the porch, the blinds drawn tight against all of them.

  He popped a piece of gum into his mouth.

  This is crazy. I should turn back.

  But he ignored the thought and adjusted his BU sweatshirt, pulling it down to conceal the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans. The police had confiscated the .45 he fired last night, but he had another one just like it. His dad had always been a big advocate of self-defense. Who else would protect his beer from the enemy?

  He glanced at the telephone pole to his right with its mosaic of missing persons flyers flapping in the breeze. He leaned against the pole and pretended to text on his cell phone, his eyes staring beyond the screen at Frank Patterson’s house.

  A few minutes passed with no sign of activity. He knew he should probably watch for a bit longer, but that required more patience than he was willing to spare. Dangerous or not, it was time to make a move.

  Worst case scenario, Patterson would just put him out of his misery.

  Jay crossed the street and mounted the steps to the porch. He knocked on the door, then dropped back and waited. A faint shuffling emanated from inside. From the corner of his eye, he detected one of the slats lifting on the blinds.

  Jay drew a deep breath. Now or never, he thought, and banged on the door even harder.

  “I know you’re in there, Frank. Let me in or I’ll call the cops. I just want to talk to you.”

  Jay’s heart pounded. What was he doing here? What kind of idiot stalked a psychopath and threatened him at his own home?

  He was about to walk away when the door swung open. He expected Frank to lunge at him with a butcher knife, but instead, Frank simply held the door open, his face worn and haggard. “Please,” he said. “Come inside.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “So where are you and Chuck going tonight?”

  Denise leaned toward the mirror and brushed mascara into her lashes. “Dinner and a movie. You know Chuck, not a creative bone in his body.”

  “Well, at least he’s got his life together,” Crystal said. “You’re lucky, you know.” Denise had been dating Chuck ever since graduating from college three years earlier, and he’d already promised her a ring by the end of the summer.

  Crystal frowned. She’d never imagined her kid sister would beat her to the alter. Why couldn’t Jay just admit he had a problem and take control of his life? She glanced at Denise. “Do you think I should call him?
”

  Denise lowered her lipstick and looked at Crystal as if she’d gone insane. “I don’t believe this. You’re not seriously considering calling that bum?”

  Crystal averted her gaze. She should’ve kept her mouth shut. Now she’d have to suffer through a lecture from her kid sister. Bring it on, Denise. I deserve it.

  “He was drunk, Crystal. Don’t you remember what Chuck said? They found him sitting on the couch with a gun, drunker than a skunk. They don’t even know for sure who he shot. You’re just lucky it wasn’t you.”

  “Jay would never hurt me.”

  “Why are you defending him? Please tell me you’re not still in love with him.”

  A tear slid down Crystal’s cheek.

  “I don’t understand,” Denise said. He treated you like crap, and you still love him?”

  “He didn’t treat me like crap. He just broke some of his promises.” She knew she was making excuses for him, and it made her angry.

  Denise joined her on the bed and draped an arm around her shoulders. “You did the right thing. He was no good for you. You can’t be with a guy who can’t take care of himself. What kind of father would he make? He’d end up stealing from you to feed his habits.” She sighed. “You gave him more chances than he deserved. I’m sorry, Crystal. I really am. But it’s time you moved on. Why don’t you come out with us tonight? I’ll ask Chuck to bring Joey along. I think he likes you.”

  Crystal sniffled. “No, you go. I’ll be alright. I’m a little tired anyway.”

  After Denise left for her date, Crystal went downstairs to watch TV. As usual, there was nothing on. She surfed the channels for twenty minutes before settling on a Discovery channel special on prairie dogs.

  She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. Here she was, twenty-nine years old, single, and all alone on a Friday night. Pretty depressing when you thought of it like that. Maybe she should have gone with Denise after all.

  She’d wasted seven years of her life on a doomed relationship. And now she had to move on, start all over again. God, she was almost thirty. How had she let this happen?

  When Jay was sober, he was sweet, charming, and funny—the kind of man she always wanted. But ever since their engagement ten months ago, it seemed he was sober less and less…almost as if he thought the ring gave him some sort of free pass to booze it up.

  If they got back together, it would only get worse. He had a problem that was certain to spiral out of control. And if he couldn’t stop now, how was he going to stop a year or five years from now when he finally realized that he did have a problem?

  It was hard to hate him. Alcoholism was a disease. She just wished he could find the strength to beat it. If you believed the studies, only about a third of those in rehab ever remain sober. But Jay refused to give rehab a chance. He insisted that he didn’t have a problem, that he could stop anytime he wanted to.

  His excuses were so pathetic. But he couldn’t see it. He believed every word of his own lies. Like that time he swore there was a boy in the backyard, a boy who appeared to be glowing like a ghost. Then, a few days later, he showed her a picture of some shadowy trees and claimed that the boy was in it. The funny thing was, he was sober when he brought over the camera. And somehow that made it all worse. He was so desperate to convince her that he wasn’t drunk that night, that he actually tricked himself into seeing something in the picture.

  It was sad. The whole situation was tragic. At least she’d given back the ring. If she’d gone through with it, if they’d gotten married and had kids, it could’ve been a whole family that got ruined. She supposed Denise was right. She did the right thing in leaving him. He was no good for her, could never make her truly happy.

  She lowered her head until the tears ran their course. Then she sat up straight and drew a deep breath. It was time to put him out of her life forever.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Tim plodded along Pennybrook Road and thought about the hard ironies of life. For as long as he could remember, he’d fantasized about meeting a girl like Maria, a girl who was smart, sweet, and sexy. And now, after a move he thought he’d never forgive his parents for, he had finally met the girl of his dreams, and by some amazing stroke of luck she actually seemed to like him too.

  I can’t believe she kissed me. Right there in the hall.

  He’d never kissed a girl so pretty before, never met a girl so outgoing. She knew exactly what she wanted and went after it.

  But even as he relished in his excitement over Maria, the phantom of his other problem darkened his mood. It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t he be allowed happiness for just one week? There were no such things as ghosts, no such things as creatures that were part man and part beast. And yet, since coming to Glenwood, he had seen both.

  If Sarah and Jay hadn’t admitted to seeing Samuel, he would have thought himself crazy. But what was this beast and where had it come from? What did it want, and why had it come to Glenwood? It didn’t make any sense. And no matter how hard he wracked his brain, he couldn’t come up with any answers.

  From somewhere up ahead came the squeal of brakes. He shielded his eyes and stared down the tree-lined street. A school bus from Glenwood Elementary idled a hundred yards away, its stop sign extended, red lights flashing.

  A group of kids poured off the bus, shouting and laughing, jockeying for position on the sidewalk. Tim spotted Sarah after the bus pulled away, walking alone with her head down, a purple Little Mermaid backpack slung over one shoulder. She looked lonely and dejected, as if she didn’t have a friend in the world.

  Tim cut a path through the crowd of kids and positioned himself between Sarah and the front walk for which she was headed. She nearly bumped into him before looking up and stopping short.

  “Tim! Hi. What are you doing here?”

  “Just wanted to talk. Hope I didn’t scare you.”

  Sarah smiled. “It’s okay. I wasn’t really scared. Just surprised.”

  Tim grinned. She was so sweet. He couldn’t imagine why she wouldn’t have any friends.

  “What do you want to talk about? Is it about Samuel?”

  He nodded. “A few things have happened since that night in Washaka Woods. I don’t want to scare you, but I think I should tell you what’s going on.” He watched the smile fade from her face, transforming her back into the sad little girl he’d seen get off the bus.

  “We can talk inside. I’ll make you some lemonade and introduce you to Mr. Whiskers.”

  “Are your parents home?”

  “Not until after five.”

  He scratched his head and glanced over his shoulder. A couple of moms stood on the sidewalk a few houses down, eyeing him suspiciously. “Is there somewhere else we can meet?”

  She mulled the question over before responding with an excited clap of her hands. “We can meet by the stream. It’s my favorite place!”

  “Do you mean that little brook in the woods?”

  She nodded. “Uh-huh. It runs right by my backyard. If you go into the woods you can follow it right to me.”

  He nodded. “See you in a few minutes.”

  ***

  As Tim entered the woods at the edge of his yard, he glanced at the trees and noticed that tiny leaves had recently sprouted, shiny and delicate like the feet of newborn frogs. He recalled how tall and foreboding the trees had seemed the other night, looming over him like gray specters, reaching for him with skeletal arms.

  He glanced back at his house and gauged the direction of Sarah’s street. The stream weaved through the trees ahead, sunlight glistening on its rippling water. As tranquil as the woods seemed in daylight, he had to remind himself of the evil that lurked here after dark.

  There were eight kids missing now, four of them reported just this morning. He couldn’t believe it. They had to stop this thing, had to prevent it from striking again. But how they were going to do that, he hadn’t a clue.

  He spotted Sarah through a screen of birch, sitting on a rock by the wa
ter’s edge. “So this is your favorite place?” he asked.

  A grin lit up her face. She motioned to a bed of moss beside her. “Do you want to sit?”

  Tim plopped down beside her, folding his legs beneath his body Indian-style.

  “Aren’t you going to put your feet in?” she asked, swirling her toes in the water.

  “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. My feet are so stinky they might kill the fish. Besides, I don’t want to scare you, but I’ve got fourteen toes.”

  “No sir! Nobody has fourteen toes!”

  Tim shrugged and dipped his hand into the stream. “Ah, that’s freezing! How can you stand to keep your feet in there?”

  Sarah giggled. “You get used to it.”

  They sat in silence for awhile and listened to the gurgling water. Tim stared off into the trees and watched dust motes swirl through a sunbeam. “Did you hear about what happened at the library?”

  She nodded. “Some kids were talking about it at lunch, but I didn’t hear everything.”

  Tim filled her in on the details she had missed, skipping over the part about stumbling into the librarian’s mutilated body. He told her how the man’s eyes had changed from brown to red and how the man had chased him through the library on all fours. When he finished, Sarah shook her head. Tim tried to read her expression, but couldn’t.

  “What did the police say when you told them about how his eyes changed color?”

  “Well … I didn’t tell them about that part. They never would have believed me. They would’ve thought I was crazy or that I made it up. But I told them everything else and gave them a good description of what he looked like.”

  Sarah nodded, but Tim could tell she wished he’d told the police everything. It was something he’d noticed about little kids. They thought every authority figure was perfect—their parents, the police, the government. They were in for a rude awakening one day, but he supposed it was part of growing up.