“Well, you’re in the right place. Elkwood is the place for strange.”
“Does your dad know you’re out tonight?”
“What do you think?”
“So no one knows we’re out here?”
Becca stopped and gave Colin a coy smile. “What’s the matter, Colin? Afraid?”
“No, I’m not scared,” countered Colin. “But there is supposed to be some sort of wild animal wandering around out here, you know.”
Becca turned away from Colin and then without warning threw herself back at him. If this had happened yesterday, Colin would have dropped her but he easily caught her around the waist in his current state. Becca laid her head on his shoulder and peered up at him.
“That’s why I brought you, my brave warrior,” sighed Becca dramatically. “To protect me against the evil beasty.” Smiling, she stood up and laughed.
“Don’t mock me!” said Colin. “I mean, it’s funny, but still.”
Becca carried on walking with Colin dutifully following. “I like that you can take a joke, Colin.”
“You won’t find it so funny when you’re being torn to shreds by some creature and I’m already halfway back to town.”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“You’re right. I’d be too scared to move.”
They both laughed. Colin felt happier than he had in a long time. And that worried him. He’d always been under the impression that he wasn’t allowed to be happy.
“So what are you hoping to find at the crime scene?” said Colin.
“I don’t know. I figured you’d be more curious than me.”
“Why?”
“One of our classmates gets attacked by a wild animal the same night that you’re out driving around town in what I can only assume was a stolen vehicle.”
There it was. Did Becca think Colin had killed Sam Bale?
“You were out too,” said Colin, probably a little too defensively.
“Then this is a good way to clear both our names. Why were you out last night anyway?”
“Why were you out?” he countered.
“Touché, Mr. Strauss,” said Becca. “Don’t worry, Colin. I don’t think you’re a wild animal nor do I believe that any fiber of your being has the ability to attack anyone, let alone kill them.”
“I guess that makes you the prime suspect then,” said Colin jokingly. Becca punched him in the shoulder playfully. “See! Violent offender right here!” shouted Colin.
“Shush.”
They had crossed several fields and hopped a number of fences, catching glimpses of the flickering light from the Merton farmhouse in the distance. The moon should have been full tonight but the overcast sky hid any evidence of it. As they walked downhill toward the forest, the open fields weren’t as well tended the farther away from the farmhouse they went, making walking a bit of a hazard.
As they walked, Colin tried to keep from dwelling on the flashes from his disturbing dream, but they refused to stay down in the dark corners of his mind. This was his first happy moment in a long time, and he didn’t want to ruin it by contemplating whatever was going on with his mind and body.
“Colin, how can you possibly see where you’re going?”
Lost in thought, Colin hadn’t realized that he’d started drifting from Becca who was following the light from her flashlight. The grass was long and spotted with spiny shrubs, but Colin could make everything out just fine.
“I have good night vision?”
“You have amazing night vision. Can you see the forest?”
To Colin’s surprise, he could. The far edge of the field they had entered ended in a bank of trees that stretched off in either direction. “Yes, it’s at the end of this field.”
“That’s amazing. Have you always been able to do that?”
“Uh, no … well, yeah.”
“I love a straight answer, Colin.”
As they made their way across the field, Colin weaved easily to avoid shrubs, and Becca carefully picked her way through and still occasionally got tangled. Colin could make something out toward the west. He could just see an open area at the edge of the forest, surrounded by four large yet dark floodlights.
“Look over there.”
“Colin, I can barely see my hand in front of my face.”
“It’s the crime scene. Come on.”
Colin grabbed Becca’s hand and led her through the field in the right direction. Reaching the caution tape, Colin hesitated. He’d seen cop shows; you weren’t supposed to do this. It was wrong. It was illegal. The tape was bright yellow with big words that read caution for a good reason.
Becca ducked under the tape and began scanning the area with her flashlight.
Maybe she doesn’t watch TV?
Colin threw caution to the wind and entered the crime scene. It was weird to think he was standing close to where someone he knew, or at least someone who had beaten him up, had died.
The fog was very light in the clearing, almost nonexistent. The clouds began to break, and Colin could see the moon. The same uncomfortable sensation that had preceded his earlier migraines began to creep up his spine. Oh no. Not now!
His body no longer fit easily inside his skin, and his muscles began to tense. Until … it stopped.
The crime scene exploded in a wave of clarity as Colin breathed deeply through his nose. He could pinpoint the location of the attack, easily picking out where all the blood spatters converged in one place. There was a trail of blood where Sam must have been dragged into the trees. Colin could literally see the blood … or smell it? He couldn’t decide. All he knew was that he could perceive everything in bright vibrant washes of color, in the dark without a flashlight.
The world wasn’t dark to him. He could see Becca examining the area with a flashlight. She looked beautiful. Colin could hear her heart beating like a drum. And he could smell her, her happiness at being out at night and doing something she probably shouldn’t be.
Faintly, Colin caught a whiff of something else. Another smell. Familiar, but … not good. Something dangerous.
“It looks like they cleaned everything up. I don’t see anything,” said Becca. “How about you? Picking anything up with your super night vision?” She smiled and shone the flashlight directly into his face. She looked surprised. “Colin, what’s wrong with your eyes? They’re—”
“Becca Emerson and Colin Strauss. What are you two doing here?” Colin and Becca jumped as Gareth Dugan marched out of the forest carrying a flashlight. Colin could smell waves of anger coming from him.
“Gareth, what are you doing here?” said Becca.
“Interesting pairing. Would never have guessed you were into the dark and brooding type, Colin. But then I wouldn’t have though that you’d be into the weak loser type either, Becca.”
“Gareth, you’re an idiot,” said Becca.
“That’s your opinion. And it’s wrong.”
Something about Gareth was off. Way off. He didn’t smell completely human, although Colin couldn’t necessarily tell what human smelled like. He just knew there was something unnatural about Gareth. As if there was something lurking under the surface.
What if he’s the killer? What if he’s the animal that killed Sam Bale?
“Did you kill Sam, Gareth?” blurted Colin.
“Colin!” said Becca.
“It’s not completely outside the realm of possibility, Becca.”
Gareth looked sad. “Don’t be an idiot, Colin. Sam was my friend.”
“Then what are you doing out here?”
Gareth bristled at Colin’s question. “What am I doing out here? What are you two doing out here?”
“Becca wanted to look around.”
“So you just followed her like a lovesick puppy. Ha!”
“Well, it wasn’t exactly like that.”
“It was kind of like that.” Becca shrugged.
“Oh, this is great. Becca and Colin. I’m going to throw up.”
Something ab
out the crime scene continued to nag at Colin.
Why floodlights?
Sam’s body had been discovered during the day. What are the lights for? Suddenly, he caught it, just the lightest whiff on the breeze, the smell of other people. Several other people. The distant sound of a helicopter.
Colin heard the whir of a generator as it powered up. The floodlights burst to life illuminating the crime scene and three startled teenagers.
“Run!” yelled Becca.
Colin didn’t know what to do. He froze as his migraine came back full force. The smells, the sounds, the light, and then the helicopter coming closer all blinded his senses. He tried to stagger in the general direction Becca was running.
“Come on, Colin!” she shouted.
He mind recalled the explosion, a helicopter, and running through the forest, but most of all, he remembered the wolf creature. He heard it growl inside his head.
In an eerie human voice, it said, “I’ll take it from here.”
Colin blacked out.
As his vision returned, Colin realized he was standing next to the wooden fence at the southern edge of town where he and Becca had first crossed into the field. There was a commotion far behind him somewhere.
“Colin, put me down!” said Becca
Colin realized he had Becca slung over his shoulder. He put her down. “What? How …?” said Colin.
“That’s what I’d like to know,” demanded Becca. “Come on. We need to hide for a while.”
“My grandfather’s garage is only a couple of blocks away.”
“Let’s go. Then you can explain to me exactly what just happened.”
What did just happen?
Chapter Eight
Recollections
Colin found it unusual that he was in the same back alley, breaking into his grandfather’s garage again, two nights in a row. He didn’t have the key for the back door this time, but Becca found a window that was unlocked. Colin helped her through the window, and she unlocked the door from the inside.
The garage was exactly as it had been the night before, minus one car. That must mean he definitely did steal it last night. He just wished he could fully remember what had happened.
Colin’s grandfather had kept an old oil-stained couch in the back of the shop. Becca flopped down and patted the couch playfully. “Here, boy!” she said.
Colin hesitated.
“I don’t bite, Colin. And you can’t tell me that you’re not tired after what just happened.”
Colin sat down carefully beside her. “Yeah, about that. I can’t really remember—”
“Oh, come on, Colin! It just happened! How can you not remember?”
“Well, my memory … it’s been a little, well, off lately.”
“You’re telling me that you can’t remember what just happened out in the field?”
“Nope.”
“You’re full of crap.”
“Do you interrogate often? Isn’t there supposed to be a good cop to balance out your surly no-nonsense attitude?”
Becca smiled, punching him good-naturedly in the shoulder.
“Hey! Police brutality!”
“All right,” said Becca patiently. “Let’s take a deep breath and try to trace our way backwards. Maybe it’ll jog your memory and then you can explain how you did that.”
“That all sounds very complicated, but I’ll do my best,” Colin smiled.
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
Colin thought back to the field. It was like trying to see through fog. “I remember the crime scene.”
“That’s a start. What else?”
“I remember Gareth Dugan.”
“And then?” Becca prompted.
“And then … nothing. The next thing I remember is being at the edge of town with you slung over my shoulder.”
“What about the floodlights? Do you remember the lights coming on?”
Colin could feel the migraine skipping along the edges of his brain. It was blocking his memories, threatening to return.
But they’re my memories!
He could recall the lights coming on. “I remember the lights!”
The migraine seemed to stop skipping and backed away a little.
Colin continued as bits and pieces slipped back. “I remember Gareth turning and running back into the woods. There was a gunshot. Did Gareth get shot?”
“I don’t know; you’d already grabbed me by that point.”
“Grabbed you?”
“Yes, Colin, you grabbed me, threw me over your shoulder like I was nothing, and then raced off across the field.”
Colin thought his school bag was heavy. Picking up an actual person had never struck him as being a good idea.
“I’ve never seen anyone move like that. You’re a lot stronger than you look,” said Becca.
“I get that a lot.”
I never get that.
“Why were the cops staking out the crime scene?” wondered Colin.
“I don’t think it was necessarily cops.”
“Then who was—”
Becca pulled a buzzing phone from her pocket. She read something on the screen and stood. “I have to go.”
“Now? But we don’t even know what just happened? Or why? Or with who?”
“It’s my dad, it’s an emergency, and it’s too hard to explain. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Colin stood up. He looked down at Becca.
Am I … getting taller?
“Well, thanks for an eventful night,” said Colin because, frankly, he didn’t know what else to say at this point.
Becca smiled. “Thanks for getting out of bed.” She kissed Colin on the cheek, and a strange look came across her face.
“What’s the matter?”
“I don’t know. There’s something different about you. Something’s changed.”
“I’m not wearing deodorant.”
“I’m being serious. You … tomorrow. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” Becca absentmindedly touched her lips and then turned and left the garage.
Colin stood alone next to the old couch and thought about how much of an idiot he was. He was having blackouts, hallucinations, students were getting torn to pieces and possibly shot, he’d lost his grandfather’s car. It was all very serious stuff. The thing that really stood out for him was one single thought.
Becca Emerson just kissed me.
Realizing it was 3:30 a.m., he locked the garage door and climbed back out through the window, dropping to the alley floor with ease.
He didn’t see the large piece of wood that broke across his head or the person who swung it. The last thing Colin remembered before passing out (again) was being dragged down the alley dreamily thinking one single thought: Becca Emerson kissed me.
Idiot.
When Colin woke up, he was chained to a heavy chair in a dark basement. Water dripped from pipes that ran along the ceiling. He’d seen this sort of scene in a movie once. He wasn’t a fan of horror flicks, but he knew that it usually didn’t end well for the teenager chained to the chair.
The only illumination came from a portable light hanging from one of the pipes above Colin’s head. Despite the darkness, he found he could see fairly well. He sniffed the air and caught a familiar scent. Not a normal thing to do, but it felt right.
As he inhaled, pieces of the room looked brighter, clearer to him. Colin could smell gas, and sure enough, there were several cans stacked in a corner. There were other things: the smell of fresh timber coming from a stack of wood, paint from an open paint can, and something else. He sniffed hard, and there it was again. The smell from his dreams, the smell from the man in the fog yesterday. Making that connection, Colin could suddenly see the man. He was standing in the darkest corner of the basement watching Colin intently. It was definitely the same man. He was wearing a long jacket with a hood, but Colin couldn’t make out his face.
“Who are you?” said Colin.
“Who are you?�
�� echoed the man. The voice was the same gruff rasp from his dreams. It was a vague memory, but he remembered it.
“I’m Colin.”
“And how are you feeling today, Colin?”
“Tired. It’s been a strange couple of days.”
“Do you know what’s happening to you, Colin?”
“I’m chained to a chair?”
The man had wrapped chains around Colin’s arms, legs, and upper body; only his head was free. What struck Colin as strange was that his head didn’t hurt in the slightest. He remembered getting hit with something heavy.
Maybe I’m in shock.
“You’re not in shock, Colin.”
“Did I say that? Or did I think it?”
“You thought it. And then I heard it,” clarified the man unhelpfully.
“What are you going to do to me?”
“I think I’ve done my worst already.” Sighing heavily, the man walked out of the shadows. Colin recognized him from his dreams. He looked to be in his late forties with light brown eyes and a muscular build. His hair was dark and greasy. “You don’t need to be afraid of me, Colin.”
“You’ve got to admit,” said Colin, “there’s currently not a lot of evidence to back up that statement. I mean, I am strapped to a chair in a dark basement.”
The man smiled and dragged a folding chair in front of Colin and sat down. “My name is Silas Baxter. Do you know who I am?”
“Yeah, you just told me. You’re Silas Baxter.”
“Not my name, dummy. Do you know what I do?” Colin remembered the dreams again. “You hunt people.”
“Ah,” nodded Silas. “So you’ve had the dreams already.”
“What do you know about my dreams?”
“I know everything about you, Colin. I know that you’ve been moved from one family member to another since you were born. I know you live with your grandmother, and that you’re miserable 95% of the time. I know that you ran away from home two nights ago and now you’re having weird dreams and that your body is going through changes.”
“How could you possibly know all this? It’s impossible.”
“I know that you have a tiny scar on your knee from when you fell off the monkey bars in fourth grade. The monkey bars were painted blue.”
“That’s very specific.”
Hair in All The Wrong Places Page 6
