Maddie Ann s Playground

by Mackenzie Drew

  Did Jennifer sense jealousy, a crack in loyalty? Suddenly clear of mind, Jennifer spoke, astonishment making her voice shake. “She plans on keeping me as a slave? That's why I'm not dead yet?” Jennifer’s body trembled. She wanted no less than to die and join Claire. “Ha-ha. Your satisfaction will never come. I will never allow her to break me down inside. You might scar and tear my flesh and she can kill me, but none of you will ever control my soul to blacken and transform into an evil being. Can’t you see what she's done to you?”

  As Jennifer rolled away in disgust, Kari kicked her in the stomach with such force that Jennifer thought her bowels exploded. Fuming, Kari walked away, throwing over her shoulder yet another threat for Jennifer to ponder. “Don’t get smart with me. The next time, you won’t have any teeth left. Oh, and just so you know, when you feel pain, so does your mother. Do you think she’s worried about what’s happening to you?”

  The four black souls huddled together, as if listening for a moment. Liz, Lisa, and Tina disappeared behind low branches that hung close to the ground, while Kari offered a parting shot. “Maddie Ann has called us. Sit tight, and we'll be back for more fun.” She glared, as Jennifer lay there frozen and unable to move, not whimpering a sound. Maddie Ann's minions left Jennifer surrounded by towering columns of ice, half-mangled and bleeding all over the ground. She screamed inside not for herself, but for her parents who’d suffer from the grief and despair of not knowing what ever become of her.

  ***

  With Claire now left alone to fight her own battles, she listened to the night rustling around her. She heard one poor restless soul crying out, louder among the others that lined the fence inside the cemetery. The rusted gates loomed before her. The night took full control, with not even the orange moonlight to guide her way. As she leaned her ear against the bars of the fence, the words became clear.

  “They have her, she’s doomed. Help her, Claire. You must find her,” she heard the voice say as she pressed her entire body against the fence.

  Claire needed a guide into the cemetery or she'd lose her way inside. She whispered for them to help her and hoped one of the lost souls would find at least a little compassion for her. It worked; the gate crept open enough to fit her slender body through, the chains straining to bursting point.

  Making her way quietly through the cemetery, careful of the crunching noises of the leaves beneath her feet, she thought, I must be crazy. I'll never find her in this twisted world. She shook her head to dispel any negativity. She had to concentrate on a positive result from this rescue. I have to try.

  She tiptoed through conglomeration of gloomy headstones and gravesites, reaching her arms in front of her for guidance. As Claire stumbled past Maddie Ann’s abandoned headstone, a lost soul took her by the hand and led her soaring over the cracked earth plains to where the black souls imprisoned Jennifer.

  Peering out from behind a large clump of spiky yellow weeds, Claire’s eyes widened as she saw a circle of ice surrounding Jennifer like a frozen cage as she lay there awaiting trial. Even through the murky gloom, the pure light of her innocent soul shone all around her.

  Claire saw how mangled Jennifer’s body looked. Her heart sank. She had to get her to a hospital. Seeing no one around and no sign of the four black souls, she jogged to Jennifer's prison and with a wave of her hand; the ice melted and sank into the ground with a soft steaming sizzle.

  Claire raced to Jennifer's side, caressing her face as she lifted her head from the ground. Placing it on her lap, she wiped away the debris that entangled the chestnut strands of Jennifer's beautiful long hair. Claire wept at her swollen face and mutilated nakedness. “Jennifer, what did they do to you?” she asked, sobbing.

  Jennifer’s eyes fluttered. Slowly, she opened her eyes and flinched to see Claire staring at her. “Claire…is that you,” she mumbled trying desperately to greet her with a smile. She struggled to get up, but had no strength and fell back shivering.

  “Yes, it’s me. Lie still. I’ve got to get you out of here.” Claire stood up and prayed for strength.

  “They said Maddie Ann banned you from here. How did you find me?” Jennifer managed to croak.

  “I had a little help from an angel. Several of them,” she said, remembering all the souls both living and dead that had helped her in her search.

  As she bent to pick her up, Jennifer grabbed her arm and shook her head. “Leave me, Claire. They'll find me again. Let me get this over with now instead of later. Please, I’m so tired of running.”

  Not willing to accept her best friend’s surrender, she pushed harder to convince her. “No, I won’t let them do this to you. Come on, Jennifer—fight with all of your might. They can’t have you. We have to stop them.”

  Claire’s adrenaline doubled. Her body trembled. If the black souls came back now…she hated to think of confronting them all at once. She lifted a protesting Jennifer off the ground with ease. Cradling her in her arms like a newborn baby, she soared away into the deep purple sky.

  “They'll get me. I can’t run anymore. Let them take me, Claire…let them take me,” she breathed.

  Claire murmured soothing words to her injured friend. She prayed for help once again from the same poor lost souls that led her to Jennifer. Following a faint blue path, she suddenly spotted the gates, the only exit to freedom from this twisted world. She landed nearby and raced through the tall brush, still cradling her friend. Approaching the gate, it stood halfway open as if waiting for her.

  The combined power of all those lost souls held it at bay for a few precious seconds. She pushed Jennifer through the little gap to safety. As she hesitated a moment before following her, intending to thank those who aided them at great risk to themselves, a shrieking howl rebuked the gatekeepers and the gates slammed shut before Claire escaped. Stunned at her mistake, she felt hands grabbing at her, forcing her to turn around. Whirling to face her assailants, Claire's worst fear rang true. All four girl-beasts hovered in front of her. Fiery red eyes drilled holes in her skull.

  ***

  Jennifer waited on the other side of the fence with apprehension not knowing what happened to Claire. As the seconds ran into minutes, and when Claire didn't appear, she got to her feet, wobbling on unsteady legs. She peered through the rusted gates in search of her. Images of the wicked souls surrounded Claire. Raspy voices roared with such pain.

  “Run, Jennifer. Run now.”

  Jennifer glanced up to the sky and saw them mauling Claire’s soul like buzzards feasting over a dead animal that lay dead for days.

  “Noooo…Claire,” she screamed, throwing herself at the gates.

  She heard Claire gasp and then mumble, “Go, Jennifer. Save—your—own—life.”

  Panic stricken, Jennifer tried running, but her body refused to obey her command and she fell on her face in the dirt.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Detective Tom Brown made the rounds for the night, talking to the parents of the missing teens and keeping them abreast of the investigation. He knew none of them had a clue what had happened to their daughters, nor could they offer any insight to why all six of them entered the cemetery on Halloween night. Compelled to solve this riddle, he decided to go take one last look around the cemetery, which looked to be the scene of the crime, if there was one. He questioned whether the bored teenaged girls orchestrated a hoax that went bad. But what about all that blood and the dagger the police found. The only death they confirmed, that of Claire Barton.

  Driving out to Old Creek in the middle of the dreary night, a smidgen of the pain their parents felt at losing a child coursed through him. His children, alive and well, but they might as well not have existed. His ex-wife took them in a custody battle and moved 3,000 miles away. Messy indeed and a fight Tom never erased from his mind. He refused to leave a stone unturned once he started something. Being a cop was the job, he knew how to do well—finding the bad guys’ and locking them up were his reasons for living.

  His ex-wife didn't g
et it. He wanted to see his kids, to show them prosperity beyond a wrecked marriage. He didn't mean to slap her the night his life fell apart. She made him so crazy, always yipping and nagging at him. He wanted her to shut the hell up and leave him to his misery. I guess she finally did, he thought, wiping his eyes as he shook off the drowsiness that blanketed his body.

  His thoughts tumbled with the forensic details of this horrific case. Six missing girls. If he screwed up in the slightest, he didn’t fear getting a chewing from his lieutenant—no, he'd blame himself. He couldn't tolerate defeat. Tom wanted to solve this case and move on to the next one. Well, that and date the sexy redheaded bartender at Flannery’s Bar. Keeping his eyes focused on the road, he flashed his high beams, and the stark leafless trees sprang into sharp relief. Taking a right turn onto the loose gravel road, he spotted the yellow tape that blocked off the crime scene.

  Tom pulled over to the side of the road and parked. With his .38 Special resting beneath his left arm, he readied himself for anything. The night had turned bitter cold, causing his teeth to chatter as he walked up the small hill. He pulled his jacket closer and checked the sky.

  Tom took note of some low hanging clouds drifting overhead, leaving a fine mist of moisture in the air and dampening his clothes. Sweeping the light from side to side as he walked up the cemetery path, he spotted something on the ground in front of the rusty iron gates. To his vast surprise, he saw a naked, battered girl lying there unconscious. Startled, he rushed up and checked her pulse. He felt a faint thump under her warm skin. He took off his coat and covered her.

  “Dispatch,” he eagerly called on his two-way radio. Seeing a young girl lying naked out in the middle of nowhere kicked in every instinct he held. He had no way of knowing which of the six missing girls she was. “This is Detective Brown. I'm out at Old Creek Cemetery and I found a young female about sixteen or seventeen year’s old, dark brown hair, weighing about a buck-ten. She's alive but unconscious, and looks battered. Send back-up and a bus in a rush.”

  As he waited for someone to respond to the call, he suspected someone raped her. He'd never seen somebody alive this severely injured. Obviously someone had beaten her to within an inch of her life. This disturbed him, but luckily, he found her and not some wacky lunatic out looking for a good time. That struck him as funny, and he shook his head, since she already met some wacky lunatic.

  Shining the light on her young face, Tom examined the cuts and bruises to her flesh, trying to decide the mortality of the wounds. He had no doctrine degree, but he feared she'd die on him before the ambulance got here. He crouched over her, and noticed the bloodstains covering her slender body. Meaty flesh hung off the bicep of her left arm, her right wrist looked shattered, and the tip of a broken rib protruded through her rib cage. She already looked dead.

  Suddenly, she opened her eyes and looked right at him before they slid shut once more.

  “Holy crap,” he shouted, jarring backward and landing on his backside. Tom wiped the cold sweat from his brow, got to his feet and made a second plea for help. “Dispatch! Can anyone hear me? I need some backup out at Old Creek Cemetery, ASAP!” He finally got a response.

  “Hey, Tommy, this is Jake, where are you?” he asked.

  “I’m out here at Old Creek cemetery for the fifteen-thousandth time. Can’t you people do anything right? Get an ambulance out here, NOW,” he growled out of aggravation.

  “Sorry about that, Tom, we gave Mildred the night off. Some of the guys’ were carrying on, and making a bunch of noise. Don’t move; I’ll be right out there. I’m calling the ambulance right now.”

  After signing off, Detective Brown stood guard over the girl, staring down at her with tears clouding his vision. At that moment, he wanted to hold his children in his arms and protect them from the dangers of the world. How something like this could happen to such a young girl disgusted him, and the worst part about the whole scenario was that it happened right in his town.

  He reached for her pulse again, and moved his finger around on her wrist. He felt puffy skin under his finger. What the…? Pulling her arm up and shining his flashlight, an incision trailed from her wrist to her elbow. Both arms held ugly, slits. Tom’s eyes widened as he realized this was Jennifer Cravens. Immediately, he tried to shake her awake, and called out her name. She didn’t flinch or open her eyes again.

  Tom left her lying there until help arrived, afraid to move her and hurt her worse. He searched the grounds for evidence, shining the light into the darkened cemetery. It appeared calm. He shook the gates, testing the strength of the chains. He needed to get inside this place. He nudged his feet around on the ground through an array of dried up leaves. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. He walked the perimeter of the woods, looking for anything that might give him a clue where she came from. A car, clothing, something—anything!

  After ten minutes went by, and he found no evidence, the ambulance still hadn’t shown up. What in the hell are those people doing? He grew tired of waiting for aid, and decided if he didn't take her into the emergency room himself, she'd up and die on him. He couldn’t take that chance. He needed her as a witness.

  Tom trudged through the knee-high weeds from the edge of the woods to his car to get a blanket to wrap around her nakedness. As he returned to scoop her up and carry her to his patrol car, she vanished. Took out the sentence. Tom's face went white as rice. He scrambled in the dark, sober from fatigue, and called her name.

  He figured she may have crawled away to hide. Tom suspected the police hadn't been gentle on her at prior interrogations. She feared him—scared to death of any man, judging by her appearance. “Jennifer. Jennifer. I want to take you home; I won't hurt you, Honey. Come out.” What in the hell…I know I’m not crazy; I just seen her, he thought, baffled. He stood in disbelief. Headlights came toward him and he heard the scream of a siren. Realizing Jake had arrived, he darted out in front of the moving car. “Over here,” he shouted, waving his arms.

  Jake climbed out of his 4x4 when he saw Tom gesturing frantically. He approached his boss with confusion etched on his face. “Hey, what’s going on? I thought you said you found a kid out here,” he asked, scouring the ground with the powerful beam from his halogen flashlight.

  “She was right here, I swear it. I turned my back for a couple of minutes, searching the area for evidence, and when I turned around, she was gone.”

  “Well, she's not here now. You sure you didn’t imagine her? You're too tired, and need a vacation. You've been through a lot this year, what with your wife…,” he said. “Are you sure you saw what you thought you saw? I mean, sir, with all due respect, sometimes we think we see things that are not there. I believe they call that hallucinations.”

  With smoke blasting out of his ears, the detective lowered his head and clenched his arms down by his sides. He spoke in a slow, fatigued voice. “Jake, I’m only gonna say this one time. I have worked on the force for over twenty-five years, and not once have I mistaken something for what it wasn’t. I am not seeing mirages, nor am I going insane. I found a young injured girl lying on the ground right there,” he pointed with his flashlight as he paced the clearing. “I'm guessing it was Jennifer Cravens, from the suicide scars on her arms.”

  “Well, I’m sorry, sir; I didn’t mean to insult your intelligence. We're all under strain. But it looks like your witness has fled. I guess I should notify the hospital to cancel the ambulance,” he asked, quirking an indulgent smile in Tom's direction.

  “Fine, you do that,” Tom said, bewildered, as he scratched his graying crew cut. “And quit calling me ‘sir’. It makes me feel older than Methuselah.”

  Stiffening at the tension rising between them, Jake asked, “Are you going to need me for anything else?”

  Tom paused for and moment and said, “No, I think I’m going to head home, turn in for the night, and get a fresh start early in the morning.” He didn’t want any hard feelings between them . After all, they worked together as partners and
working with each other every day demanded cooperation and civility.

  “Take care, Tommy, and I'll see you in the a.m.” Smiling as he walked away, he tipped his hat and got in the Bronco.

  After getting Jake out of the way, Tom continued his investigation. He hankered to protect the citizens of his town. His job took priority over anything in his life. Loyalty, respect, and safety reflected his persona as the detective of Old Creek. Without them, how could he serve his community? I reworded this entire section. Please let me know what you think. Thanks! His heart broke thinking of the parents who lost their daughters in this dramatic misfortune and sat day after long night waiting and hoping for their safe return. He scoured again the nearby copse of leafless trees, kicking just about every clump of bushes, but found not so much as a twig out of place. After an hour of hoping she'd miraculously walk out of the darkness, he decided to go back to the station to look up the file on the Cravens girl. He wanted to see if she matched the girl he'd found and lost in minutes.