by Harper Lin
The breath caught in my throat.
“But...” Tom shook his head. “Truthfully, we’ve never had to use them. Never once has any shot ever been fired on the Clare property by one of our officers. It’s just that the area is so remote, and well, they are a bit crazy out there.”
My mind began to whirl, and I was feeling an overwhelming desire to do something stupid. I kept my mouth shut and waited. No matter what anyone said, I was going to snoop around on that property. If there were animals in trouble, I was going to help.
“That might be some information the Wonder Falls PD should have.” Jake looked at Tom and nodded.
“Absolutely,” Tom agreed. “I’ll get the complete file on these guys over to you. Can I send it to your attention?”
“That’ll work.” Jake reached out his hand to Tom, and they shook.
“If you don’t mind my asking, what are you looking into them for? Have they done something?” Tom looked at me.
How was I going to explain this?
“I’ll tell you all about it over dinner,” I quickly jumped in.
I certainly didn’t want to get into all the gory details in front of Blake and listen to a lecture on trespassing. Even though neither Aunt Astrid nor I knew we were trespassing. We were just exploring. There weren’t any signs. But even I knew that was a pretty flimsy defense. I don’t have a Do Not Trespass sign on my house, but I think most people know not to walk right in and start taking a bath in my tub.
“I can’t wait.” Tom’s eyes twinkled like a boy who was given a reward for returning a lost wallet. “It was nice to see all of you again.” He turned and gave Bea a wave. He shook Aunt Astrid’s hand in both of his own.
“Tom, You should come by for dinner sometime. That one is constantly mooching off of us for a home-cooked meal.” Jake jerked his thumb at me and, like a true brother, embarrassed me at every chance. “You are more than welcome to come along.” I rolled my eyes at him.
“I think I’ll just do that,” Tom replied.
“Why don’t you leave your schedule open for Friday night, Tom?” Bea jumped in, smiling devilishly at me.
“Yes. Friday night is lentil loaf night. You don’t want to miss that,” I shot back.
“How did you know I love lentils? Practically raised on them. Fridays, we didn’t eat meat in my house, so this will really remind me of my childhood.”
“I can’t win,” I mumbled. “See you tonight?”
“About seven?”
“Yeah. Meet me here.”
“It’s a date.”
Tom gave another quick wave and then dashed out the door. I let out a deep breath and walked over to Treacle, who had stretched out on the table next to the window, soaking up the sun that was beating down on him. His fur was warm to the touch, and he began to purr.
“I really like him.” He looked at me with eyes that were barely slits.
“I do, too.”
“Well, that’s a lot of news for one day,” Jake said. “We better get back to work.”
“I’d like to get ahold of that file on the Clares, too,” Blake mumbled. “That’s a little too close to home for my taste.”
“You’ve got that right,” Jake concurred.
Before they left, Bea wrapped up a couple of turkey sandwiches with two containers of the salad she was mixing just as they walked in and, much to my dismay, shaved off two healthy slices of peach pie that I was planning on eating.
“Okay. I’m going to say it. That Tom Warner is smitten with you.” Aunt Astrid giggled like a hyena.
“My gosh! Isn’t he?” Bea chimed in. “It’s so cute! Especially how you get all shy and blushy around him.”
“I do not.” I grimaced.
Both Bea and my aunt started to laugh so loud the patrons who had up until now been in their own worlds looked up to see what all the hubbub was about.
“Yes, you do,” Treacle added as the tip of his tail waved at me lazily.
“Ugh. You guys are all impossible,” I scoffed, secretly loving it. “So what do you think of what he said about the Clares?”
It was as if I’d thrown a bucket of ice water at both of them. They were no longer smiling.
“I think we were lucky to get out of there.” Aunt Astrid pushed herself up from the small table she always sat at. “I could tell by the look on your face, you were thinking of going up there.” She didn’t look at me as she spoke. I was about to protest when Bea spoke up.
“I just thought that if there was that kind of suffering going on, I might be able to help,” Bea protested. “Those men just get a fine and a few weeks in jail for torture?”
I bit my tongue. Apparently, Aunt Astrid picked up on Bea thinking of a visit to the Clare Farm and not me. Well, I wasn’t going alone. I was bringing a police officer with me, hopefully, if he agreed to trespassing and spying as part of our date tonight.
“Don’t go up there, Bea.” Aunt Astrid’s voice was stern when she turned and looked at me. “The place isn’t safe, right, Cath?”
“Well, from what we’ve seen and heard so far, I’d guess no. It isn’t safe.” I thought back to Tamara’s encounter the other day. “So why would a farmer starve his animals? And what, if anything, does that have to do with the thing that was scratching at Tamara’s car, and the soul parasite?”
“I’m not sure.” Aunt Astrid put a hand on her hip. “But Bea is right about one thing. If we are going to solve this mystery, it is going to require we go to that farm and survey the land. We just need to prepare.”
In my mind, that kind of preparation required recon. Someone had to get the lay of the land in case we needed to make a quick getaway or hide somewhere. I’d already decided it would be me. With or without Tom, I was going to do some snooping.
“Well, I guess I’ve got a date tonight,” I mused. “I’m going to be busy. You two will have to scheme without me and fill me in on the details tomorrow.”
“Of course. What are you going to wear?” Bea asked. “If there is anything of mine you’d like to borrow, just say so.”
“Would you like me to cast an olfactory spell on you? It’ll make you smell like vanilla all night. Men find that a soothing scent that prompts them to be more honest than if they were smelling, say, jungle gardenia or hemp.” Aunt Astrid said this as if she were asking me if I had my keys, wallet, and four gallons of water before heading out for a journey into the desert.
“No,” I said.
“How about a quick aura cleanse? It makes your cheeks naturally rosy,” Bea offered, batting her eyelashes.
I was about to speak when a new customer came into the café.
“Hi. Welcome to the Brew-Ha-Ha. These women are crazy.” I smiled, my eyebrows up in my forehead as I pointed to my aunt and cousin.
Paranormal Catastrophe
“I didn’t think you’d be up for this at all,” I said, smiling at Tom over my chocolate milkshake. I had just finished a cheeseburger with everything and Cajun fries, and he had devoured a pork chop the size of a starter log, when I suggested we go on an epic journey to drop a ring into the fires on Mount Doom. Okay, so it wasn’t that epic. But after what happened with Aunt Astrid and the stories about the animals Tom had told us, I was sure there was a need to go onto the Clare property.
“Well, it probably isn’t the smartest move for a police officer to make. I doubt we’ll find anything, but let’s just say I’ve got a gut feeling, and that counts for something on the police force.” He winked at me, making me smile.
“Yeah,” I concurred. “I’ve got sort of a sixth sense, too.”
“You probably mean that more literally, don’t you?”
I stared at Tom for a minute while he wiped his mouth with his napkin. Should I tell him a little more about my gift? About Aunt Astrid and Bea? No. I wouldn’t say anything about them. Their gifts weren’t mine to share. I’d just stick to my own abilities. Maybe. I didn’t know.
“I guess I do.”
He leaned closer to m
e, and I could smell his cologne. It was a wonderfully clean smell, like freesia or something.
“Can you see the future?”
No, but my aunt Astrid can. I thought of blurting that out but changed my mind and just shook my head no.
“Well, I trust your sixth sense. If what you told me about your experience with your aunt is true, then it is suspicious behavior if nothing else.”
Talking to Tom was such a refreshing change from “Mr. Do Everything By The Book” that I felt as if I wanted to kiss him. Instead, I smiled and nodded while not a single word of response popped into my head.
Finally, I snapped out of it.
“Then we better get going.”
Tom drove us in his bright-red pickup truck to a remote area where County Line Road 63 intersected with 314 West. He backed the truck into a small alcove that was almost completely concealed by wild-growing trees and shrubs. Surprisingly, the truck had all but disappeared from view.
“Speed trap.” Tom looked at me and winked.
“You get a lot of traffic down these roads?”
“Not 63. But 314 West goes straight to the next town of Lemont. A lot of kids go down this road and think no one is around.”
“Oh, the ignorance of youth.” I sighed. “Remember being that careless?”
“You mean as opposed to the monument of maturity that I am now as I sneak onto some weird farmer’s property?” He crossed his eyes at me, making me laugh.
We climbed out of the truck, and I listened.
“Come on.” Tom took my hand. “I think the farm is north of here.”
I squeezed it tightly as we walked through the brush.
“So why do you think a person would starve their animals? I mean, that sounds like a symptom of mental illness. Why would he just be fined or put in jail? Should he be given a psych evaluation or something?” My voice was just loud enough to be heard over the dry, crunching leaves and twigs.
“The police can recommend it. The courts can, too.” Tom stretched his leg to get over a small ditch then turned and offered me his other hand to help me across. “But it is up to that person or their family to make it happen. If they don’t think they need it, then they won’t get it. There isn’t anything we can do about it.”
“That’s sad.” For a second, I felt pity for the Clare family. I couldn’t believe that anyone would intentionally torture an animal and be cruel just because they could. But then a scary thought entered my mind. “Is it true that people who hurt animals are just priming the pump before they move on to…people?”
“That’s a theory that seems to have some legs,” Tom said. “It is usually the case.”
We walked in silence for a while, covering a big chunk of territory. I was glad he was holding my hand, and as the sun started to set, I realized my eyes were starting to play tricks on me. The shadows appeared to be creeping toward our feet, and the branches of the trees seemed to be lowering their canopy closer to our heads. Tom didn’t seem to notice, so I kept my mouth shut. I could still hear the sounds of nature, so I kept my cool. That was, until I saw the stagnant water in the gully and the broken-up bridge above it.
“Whoa,” Tom whispered. “I’ve never seen this before. Didn’t even know it was here.”
“This must be where Archie Jones committed suicide.”
“What?” Tom turned to me, his eyes wide.
“Archie Jones. The guy whose farm my aunt and I went to. They found him hanging here and said it looked like suicide. But there were a couple of odd things about it that Jake hasn’t elaborated on yet. Foul play might be more like it.”
“This is a really lonely place to end your life.” Tom crossed himself, and I thought he said a quick prayer. But my gut told me this was a place where prayers got choked up in the tree branches and never made it to the ears of anyone who could help.
The bridge looked like a concrete tongue stretching to reach the other side of the embankment. The guardrails along the sides had long been broken off, leaving pointy, rusty metal spokes protruding from the concrete like rotten teeth.
Someone from the township had visited the bridge at some time. A plastic orange barricade that I’d seen at construction sites was strung along where the guardrails used to be, not that they could save anyone who was falling off the side. It was drooping and sagging in several places.
Other people had visited the bridge as well. Faded graffiti of crude pentagrams, obscene words, and gang symbols had been spray-painted underneath the bridge on the concrete walls that managed to remain standing.
The gully had a good bit of water in it still from the severe thunderstorm when Tamara had her scare. But as we inched our way closer, I noticed something strange about the ground. In the fading sunlight, it looked to me as if the grass and small plants were dead. Not just hibernating with the coming of winter but actually dead. As though salt had been scattered along this place.
“You picking up on anything?” Tom asked me. His voice was serious and full of concern.
“Just the plant life seems to have given up around here. And whoever painted those things under the bridge ought to go back to art class to learn a thing or two.”
I let go of Tom’s hand and went closer to the bridge. From where I was standing, I could see holes up through it. Even riding a bike across this would have been dangerous. It had appeared from a distance that the bridge had crumbled just feet from the other side, but actually, the same rusted spokes jutted out from the concrete and plunged deep into the earth on the other side. They were like sickly exposed tendons desperately clinging to solid bone.
Bea would have been the person to bring here. She would have been able to pick up on something, I was sure of it. As for me, I just had a serious case of the willies.
“So Mr. Jones would have to have tied his rope to one of those pillars and jumped.” Tom pointed to the top side of the bridge. “I don’t get it.”
“What?” I asked.
“Why here?” He looked around. “Why would anyone come all this way out here and…”
“Where are you?”
It was like a child’s voice.
“Where are you? Where are you? I’ll find you.” It became gravelly and angry. “I’ll find you!”
“What is that?” Tom’s expression changed, and I could see his police training kick in as if a switch had been thrown. I shrugged. Afraid to move my feet for fear of making noise, I swiveled my head and torso around to look behind me. When I faced Tom again, I saw it behind him.
“There’s something coming back there.” I pointed over his shoulder. It seemed to weave in and out of shadows, but whatever it was, its white nightclothes gave away its position. It was getting closer.
I grabbed Tom by the hand and dashed toward the wall of dirt that the rusty spokes were still connected to. A tree had fallen next to it, offering not just cover but also a piece of nature in the process of decay. It was giving its last bit of essence to the world around it. In its degeneration, it gave life to so many other creatures. I tapped into that power and, whispering a simple spell I used to use during games of hide-and-seek with Bea, held on tightly to Tom’s hand as we spied the thing that was approaching.
“Where are you?” It kept calling in this singsong way that would transform into a hateful hiss. “I’ll find you! I’ll find you!”
It hobbled the way Tamara had described the thing she had seen. Its body twisted and jerked as it walked, tilting its head around in unnatural positions as it did so. But whatever it was, it wasn’t crippled. It moved with surprising skill across the uneven landscape as if it had done this a thousand times before. That had to be what allowed it to run.
It ran in horrific quick steps up to a large oak tree. The trunk of it had to be three feet across. I could have sworn I heard it groan as the creature ran up to it. Stopping unnaturally fast, it stood there like a child that had been given a time out in a corner, and both Tom and I could hear it mumbling. The words weren’t audible, but it spat the
m out. Whatever it was saying, I would bet it wasn’t very nice. It jerked and convulsed as it argued at the base of this tree, and Tom and I could only sit there, frozen, and watch in terrified fascination.
“What is it?” Tom whispered.
I squeezed his hand.
The thing whirled around and pointed a contorted claw in our direction.
“Where are you?” it hissed again.
Instinctively, Tom shielded me with his body, pushing us down even farther behind the fallen tree. I was sure my little spell was working, but I had no idea if this creature could see past it. Both of us were holding our breath, listening as the thing kept asking where we were.
Then everything shifted. I listened and couldn’t hear anything anymore. No birds. No wind, nothing but my own heartbeat. Before I could move a muscle, I looked at Tom. He raised his eyebrows and without a word looked toward his hip. I followed his gaze and saw the holster and gun strapped to him beneath his coat.
I didn’t move, but I blinked at him. There was no way to tell him that his gun wouldn’t do him any good in this particular situation.
Then I heard it. As if someone had let a bloodhound run loose in the woods and it was on the other side of the log we were hiding behind, something was trying to sniff us out. As it had done on Tamara’s car window, it began to scratch and dig at the log and the air in frustration.
I was afraid my spell was going to crack under the psychic pressure of this horror, but just as I was racing through my mind, trying to find something that could teleport us to Cancun, the thing screamed. It was inside and outside of us.
Tom’s face said it all. The color dropped from his cheeks, and he blinked in confusion. When he looked at me, the screaming stopped.
We lay still for a while. I didn’t dare peek over the tree trunk for fear that creature would be staring at me with blind, white eyes that didn’t see my body but seared into my soul.
Tom was the first one to look.
“Did you see that?” he mumbled. “You did, right? You heard that thing. You saw it. I wasn’t hallucinating.”
