The Torment

by Anthony Hains

  Lacey noticed a squirrel prancing along the grass on the other side of the basketball court. The wind had died down from this morning, and birds teased them with a tuneful melody that seemed false given the circumstances.

  “Like what?”

  “This is so messed up. Was that kid a ghost? He was solid. I touched him.” Jared looked straight at her. “He was cold, though. To the touch, I mean.”

  He sat quietly again. The squirrel was gone, and Lacey heard a car pull into a driveway. Someone was home for the day.

  “Yeah. They’re related I guess. The kid was dead. Hell, I found him in the car, drowned. Yet he was sitting at my desk not an hour or two earlier.”

  Lacey reached for his arm and patted it softly. She couldn’t help thinking about her former students as middle school children. Still, after all these years, especially the younger ones like Jared and Daphne.

  “Yes, Sheriff, something strange is happening again. What, I don’t know.”

  3

  BEFORE

  THE STORM WAS RIGHT ON schedule. Her deputies were out on the roads preparing for the worst. Southerners, even those living in the Appalachian regions, were not especially adept at driving in snow. She hated it when the newspeople set a camera at the bottom of a hill before a traffic light and recorded inexperienced drivers careening into one another. These videos often made it onto Northern stations or national ones like CNN, and the anchors laughed at Southern drivers in snow. She took personal offense. Yet there was some truth to the stereotype, so everyone was out, including her, ready to come to someone’s aid.

  The call came in around seven. Aaron Kinney had seen a car coming up Somers Mountain by his place, and it hadn’t returned. Kids were driving.

  Lacey had always liked Aaron. He was responsible and kind, even as a child. It was typical of him to note that someone might be in trouble up the mountain. She also admired him for raising his son by himself. Aaron had gotten his high school girlfriend pregnant with Laz at seventeen. When it became clear that Laz had some problems, she dumped the toddler off on Aaron’s parents’ doorstep early one spring morning and took off. After his parents died, Aaron inherited the house and devoted his time to raising his son and being a handyman.

  Not seconds after Aaron’s call came a second report of missing kids. It didn’t take much to put two and two together. Lacey was on the road and, as it turned out, in close proximity. She took off in that direction, lights flashing, going as fast as she dared on the worsening roads.

  Southern snowfalls could be treacherous even for experienced drivers. Temperatures above freezing kept the road warm during the day. Initial flakes melted on impact, but with increased intensity, fueled by excessive moisture from both the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic Ocean, the snowflakes stuck to one another atop this wet surface. The snow closest to the road turned to ice crystals, not unlike ball bearings, making traction difficult to gain.

  Lacey knew all this from her husband. She wasn’t sure of its scientific veracity, but it made a heck of a lot of sense to her.

  Her drive up the mountain became even more challenging. Not only were the roads getting more dangerous by the moment, but the temperature was dropping with the higher altitudes. Add that to the pressure of finding missing kids, who might have driven off the road or down an embankment, and the whole situation had an air of catastrophe about it.

  County Road 241 followed the trail of a river that snaked through the mountains. Lacey couldn’t see it because of the snow, but she could sense the void of blackness off to her left. Eighteen hundred feet above the valley floor, the road turned away from the river to swerve its way up the mountain. The knuckles of both hands were aching from her grip of the steering wheel. Lacey willed herself to relax some, but she couldn’t shake the tension. Images of sliding or fishtailing off the shoulder and into a tree kept her grasping reflex tighter than she wanted.

  There were no tracks in the road before her. That meant she had either passed the kids already, which she didn’t think was possible, or the storm was intensifying faster than she wanted to admit.

  Lacey considered turning around and heading back, but she knew she wouldn’t do that. Not with people missing—especially kids. She exhaled slowly, trying to keep focused. Her view out the windshield had narrowed. The section that the wipers had cleared was the only glass still free of snow. She couldn’t turn around if she wanted to. Trying it might mean backing off the mountain. That would be embarrassing if she was able to live through it.

  After what seemed like hours but was probably mere minutes—Lacey had lost all sense of time—she could see the lights of the Kinney house. She pulled into the driveway, or what she thought was the driveway, and coasted up to the door. The driveway was circular, so at least leaving wouldn’t involve backing out blindly into the wintery abyss.

  Lacey slammed the driver’s door shut at the same time the front door opened. Aaron stood in the frame, and Laz was behind him, standing on his toes and peering over his father’s shoulder. Lacey didn’t know what to expect, but the look on their faces indicated that the missing kids hadn’t taken refuge in his house. She should have known better—he would have called and said everyone was safe—but still she’d foolishly held on to that hope.

  “Sheriff, you’re crazy,” Aaron called above the wind.

  “You haven’t seen anything recently?” She had to ask.

  “No, nothing. Get inside before you freeze to death.”

  Lacey climbed the porch steps and knocked the side of her left boot to dislodge the snow. It didn’t work.

  “Don’t worry about that,” Aaron said, “We’ve got a rug here, just get in.”

  Lacey stepped into the front hallway, very conscious that the snow on her boots would melt into a huge mess if she stayed very long. She made an effort to step squarely in the middle of the worn throw rug.

  “Shoot, Aaron, you’ve seen no other traffic after the car with those kids?”

  “Are you kidding, ma’am? Who would be stupid enough to be out here tonight?”

  “Point taken. Okay how long ago was this?” She unzipped her jacket. The house was warm, and she didn’t want to start perspiring before she went outside again. She’d catch a cold or the flu on top of everything else.

  “’Bout an hour ago, I think.”

  “Did you recognize the car?”

  Laz was pressing his face against a window on the side of the house that looked up the mountain. His hands framed his face to block out the reflection.

  “It was one of those small SUVs. I suppose the driver would be able to get through the snow for a while, but the way it’s coming down, I don’t know how much longer he’ll be able to keep going.”

  “He?”

  “It was Mitchell. Jared was with him. And another kid.” Laz stepped away from the window. The moisture from his skin left an impression on the glass. Instead of looking at them, the boy scampered to another window as if he was looking for something.

  “Yeah,” Aaron added. “Laz said it was that Mitchell kid who was driving.”

  “Jared was with him?” Through the grapevine, Lacey had heard about a fight between the two of them a day or so before.

  Laz’s face was flush against the glass again, looking out at the snow.

  “Yeah, surprised me too.” Aaron lowered his voice. “Mitchell had been bullying Laz. Calling him ‘retard’ and ‘dummy.’ Cousin or no, Jared got in Mitchell’s face and told him to lay off right there in the hallway.” Aaron bit the inside of his lip and shook his head. “That evidently didn’t go over well. They got into a big fistfight and blood was everywhere. Took three teachers to break it up.”

  “That’s what I heard,” Lacey said. “Not the details, though. It doesn’t surprise me that Jared would stand up for Laz. He was always a sweet kid.”

  “Yeah,” Aaron agreed. “Laz thinks the world of him. Jared’s his Special Buddy at school.”

  That didn’t surprise Lacey either. Special Buddies
was a program in which upperclassmen mentored special-ed kids who’d been mainstreamed into regular high school classes. The volunteers walked with them to class, helped them get their backpacks together, and provided assistance with assignments. The role fit Jared to a T.

  Both adults were startled when Laz grunted, jumped back from the window, and nearly tumbled over an end table. This time he turned and looked straight at Lacey.

  “Someone’s coming. I can see him in your flashing lights. It’s Jared.”

  The next few moments were a blur. Lacey stepped outside and was dumbfounded to see Jared stumble toward her. He was wearing remnants of boxer shorts, but nothing else. The red from her lights displayed black streaks of liquid running down his face, chest, and legs. One leg was especially dark with the stuff. Blood.

  “Jared,” she yelled, and nearly fell down the steps running to him. She sensed that Aaron was at her heels.

  Lacey grabbed him by the shoulders at the same time he fell to his knees. If she hadn’t been there, he would have fallen face first to the ground.

  “Holy shit, boy.” Aaron was there quickly and hoisted him to his feet. Lacey took one arm while Aaron took the other, and they both practically ran to the house. Jared was trying to walk, but he was disoriented and could barely manage to keep his head upright.

  They dragged Jared to a chair just inside the living room. Laz stood stock still.

  “Jared got away,” Laz said.

  “Laz, stop now. Help me, okay?” Aaron said. “Can you get me a blanket from the closet?”

  Jared’s eyes were still unfocused. Lacey grabbed his biceps and shook him gently. His skin was clammy and wet below her palms. Melting slush slid from his hair and shoulders. There were cuts, actual slices in his right thigh and outside his calf, and scrapes on both shins. Fingernails? Lacey was unsure, couldn’t imagine what had hurt him. Another cut, less dramatic than those on his legs, was drawn along his belly.

  “Jared, honey, what happened to you?”

  The young man’s vacant look didn’t change, although he slowly shifted his head to look at her. Jared’s lips moved ever so slightly, as if he was going to respond, but stopped.

  Laz fetched the blanket that Aaron had requested. “Here,” he said, handing it to his father. Aaron shook the blanket briskly to unfold it and draped it over Jared.

  “Sheriff.”

  Aaron stared at the floor in front of Jared. Drops of blood were rapidly falling. They landed with the tiniest of splats, and Lacey wondered if she was imagining the sound. So many thoughts were rushing through her mind like a windstorm—or maybe it was the wind from the blizzard that she was hearing—that she couldn’t believe she could actually hear dripping blood.

  “I’ve got to get him to a hospital.”

  “Yeah, you better. Can you make it?”

  Was Aaron was offering his assistance? It didn’t seem like it. He had Laz to attend to. But Lacey thought she could manage. The roads wouldn’t be impassible yet. Or so she hoped.

  “Yes, I can. Do you have a first aid kit?” Lacey was hoping for some butterfly bandages.

  “Shoot, no. Just Band-Aids. Let me check though.” Aaron rushed off.

  “Jared escaped the tormenters.” This from Laz.

  Lacey looked at him. “What, Laz?”

  “The tormenters. They’re monsters and very bad. Jared got away. No one ever does.”

  Aaron was back with a small box of bandages. The two adults started ripping off the individual wrappers. The Band-Aids weren’t too helpful in closing his leg wounds, but a few stuck. For how long, Lacey didn’t know.

  “I’ve got to move now if I’m going to make it.” She got to her feet. “Come on, Jared, stand up.”

  The boy flinched but didn’t move.

  “Jared, come.”

  Aaron took an elbow and prompted Jared to his feet. “Come here, son. I’ll help.”

  Somehow the two of them managed to get Jared back outside, through the snow, and into Lacey’s squad car without losing the blanket Aaron had wrapped around him. There was something inherently stupid about subjecting a distraught and frozen kid to this course of action, but Lacey couldn’t think of another way. She felt that Aaron wanted him out of the house, and Jared clearly needed immediate medical attention. There was no guarantee that an ambulance would be able to reach them. No, the best decision was to bring the boy down the mountain now.

  After she and Aaron had Jared buckled in the front seat with the blanket wrapped around him, she noticed Laz standing in the doorframe. Silhouetted by the lights behind him, he was staring intently with his arms wrapped around his torso for warmth. He rocked forward and backward.

  “Will Laz be okay?”

  Aaron glanced briefly at his son. Snow blasted past both of them, whipped by the screaming wind. Lacey shivered in her parka while Aaron stood in his shirt sleeves. He didn’t seem fazed.

  “Jared has been good to him. Not many kids have. I think he’s worried. Keep me informed, will you?”

  “I will. You get inside.” Lacey marched to the driver’s side and opened the door. Heat escaped with a whisper but was quickly absorbed by the wind and the cold.

  “Aaron, you let us know if you see or hear anything more about these other kids. Lord only knows what happened.”

  “Okay.” Aaron leaned into the wind and turned to his front porch.

  Lacey thought he said something else as she slammed her door, but she didn’t hear it. Maybe it was nothing, but in her imagination he added, “But I don’t think I will.”

  The drive back toward town was a nightmare. The small hospital would have been a twenty-minute drive under normal circumstances. This time it was double that. Lacey kept in constant communication with her office. Someone was going to try and get up the mountain in a four-wheeler to check on the other kids.

  Jared started shivering, which Lacey took as a good sign. He was able to answer some questions, but nothing of substance.

  “Jared, are you getting warmer?”

  A nod.

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  A shake of the head and a whispered “No.”

  “Jared, where are the other kids?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “How many were up there?”

  Lacey sensed that he’d turned to face her. She risked taking her eyes off the road long enough to read his expression.

  Terror and confusion.

  Jared’s eyes were focusing more. The intensity of his gaze was surprising given his listlessness just moments before.

  “Mitchell . . .” Jared groaned. Then gagged. His body convulsed into dry heaves that seemed to go on for minutes. Lacey half expected to see blood exploding from his mouth.

  When he stopped, his body sagged to the extent it could while being constrained by the seatbelt. Barely audible groans escaped his lips, and then he went silent. He didn’t say anything more for the remainder of the ride.

  Jared stayed in the hospital for nearly two weeks. The deepest cuts on his leg became infected, and multiple rounds of antibiotics were needed to get it under control. The doctors were ready to transfer him to Roanoke or Charlotte if the last batch wasn’t successful, but it was, to everyone’s relief. His leg was a mess, though, and he’d live the rest of his life with some impressive scars.

  But the biggest concern was Jared’s memory—or rather the lack of it. Jared could not remember one iota of the attack. His cousin Mitchell had made a peace offering, inviting him to go drinking with Hunter Kepler after school. Hunter knew about this old hunting cabin in the woods on Somers Mountain. They could go up and get wasted and not have to worry about parents. Jared felt apprehensive about the invitation. Something seemed off about the whole thing. He wasn’t a heavy drinker by any stretch, and this wasn’t the type of activity Mitchell would include him in. Still, he felt maybe he should take Mitchell up on the offer, try and patch things up. He got in the van that Hunter was driving and noticed a small cooler full of
beer and some bottles of alcohol in a grocery bag. Jared instantly regretted agreeing to go, and that was the last thing he remembered before he found himself in the hospital.

  It was three days before a squad and rescue workers were able to make their way up to Somers Mountain on County Road 241. Over two feet of snow had fallen, and drifts were as high as five feet. Lacey stopped at the Kinney house to ask Aaron about the old cabin further up in the woods.

  “Hell, those kids were up there?”

  “I don’t know, Aaron. I’ve never even heard of this cabin, and besides, we haven’t gotten there yet.” Lacey nodded in the direction of a plow pushing snow off the road about a quarter of a mile up the mountain.

  “Okay. Yeah, there is a place. Lots of them, actually. Just small hunting cabins, nothing spectacular. If it’s the one I’m thinking about, it’s about two miles away.”

  Lacey could have screamed. “How come I don’t know about these?”

  “It’s not like there’s a development or something. Some of the old-timers built places to stop or stay when hunting. They’re just shacks, and they’re all over the mountains around here. Not a mystery, really. Most have fallen apart by now, some are just barely standing.”

  Aaron took Lacey and a couple of deputies to the cabin. Laz came along, rocking in his seat to some inner stimulus. They came to what Lacey guessed was a dirt road, but you couldn’t tell because of the snow cover.

  “Y’all up for a short walk?” Aaron asked.

  “I don’t think we have a choice.” Lacey opened the door of the four-wheel drive.

  “You okay with this, Lazzo?” Aaron said as the group climbed out. Lacey didn’t hear Laz’s response, but a second later Aaron threw an arm around his son’s shoulder. “Atta boy.” Laz edged to the side, away from his father’s embrace.

  The walking was difficult. Everyone had boots, but they were pushing though knee-deep and sometimes hip-deep snow. Aaron indicated that the cabin was about one hundred yards to the left.