Riapoke

by Bryan Nowak

  “Yes, Master. I understand.”

  “Are you sure you’re certain?”

  “Yes Master, Waylon will die tonight. If not by Matthew’s hand, then by my own.”

  “Good. Nothing is written in the tablets of time, there is still a chance we’ll prevail. Leave me now, as the woman will be at your house shortly. I have ensured no one can call in or out of town. Whatever you have to tell her, you tell her. Until the woman is dead and her son is one of us, the town will remain without any means of communication with the outside world.” The Master turned from Donny and walked back into the darkness of the cave. More than once, Donny had wondered what world extended past that dark portal. Today, however, he found the urge to leave the cave far out weighted any other curiosity.

  A few minutes later, Donny maneuvered his car along the tree-lined highway. The house was close enough to the church, only a few minutes away by car. Even in that short period of time, his mind raced with questions. What would this woman look like? Why did Beth have anything to do with this?

  The time spent with The Master overwhelmed his nerves. Even with the car’s heater running at full blast, the air felt icy. Terrified of the unknown, Donny wanted nothing to do with any of this. The idea of picking up his daughter and just driving out of town crossed his mind. They could make it beyond The Master’s reach.

  He dismissed the idea as soon as it entered his conscious mind. The Master is a god and there would be no place he could go, no distance he could travel which would put them far enough away from The Master’s eternal reach. At this point Donny, and his family, were fully vested in the town of Riapoke and this woman and her son. He’d have to see this through till the end.

  Beth was his pride and joy. How might the boy react to her? Is he a threat to her? The Master wouldn’t deliberately put Beth in danger, would he? He might, unintentionally. The Master didn’t see individuals, only the greater good. Both their fates may already be written in stone.

  Poor Waylon didn’t deserve to die. However, not following through, wasn’t an option. The terrifying image of The Master’s enormous paw played in his mind.

  He pulled out his phone and quickly dialed a number. “Matthew, this is Donny.”

  “Hello, Reverend. What can I do for you?” came the voice from the other end.

  Donny hesitated for a moment. “I need you to kill Waylon. It isn’t an order from me, but from The Master himself. I want to be clear on that. You are to take him out to the house by the lake. Do you understand?”

  A pause on the end of the line suggested Matthew was stunned by the request. Donny knew Waylon and Matthew enjoyed a close bond as children, so asking this was like asking Matthew to kill a sibling.

  “Are you sure about this?” Matthews shaky voice replied.

  “Yes, I just came from the lair. I don’t want to discuss it, just do it. Call me back when you’re done.”

  Matthew let out a prolonged sigh. “All right, reverend. I hate this, but I’ll do it. In the meantime, I have two people I’m bringing in to see you. They need sentencing.”

  Donny’s breath caught in his throat. Are these the people The Master referred to? “A woman and a boy?”

  “Yes, how did you know?” Matthew asked.

  Donny felt a headache coming on, a throbbing at his temples. “I just do. Bring them to the house.”

  A moment of silence passed between them and Matthew sighed again. This time the sigh sounded even more despondent than before.

  “Matthew, for what it’s worth, I asked The Master to spare his life,” Donny said.

  “Thank you for that,” Matthew replied. “I’ll see you in about ten minutes.”

  Donny made a quick phone call to the house staff to ensure two guest bedrooms were prepared. Not the same as a true jail, but it served the same purpose. Especially since his security team locked and unlock doors at his discretion.

  He hit another button on his cell phone and the voice of a young woman answered. “Yes, Daddy?”

  “Elizabeth, what are you doing right now?” He only called her Elizabeth when he needed her to do something. The rest of the time she simply went by Beth.

  “I was headed to the beach with Terry and Wendy. Why?”

  “I need you to stay home, okay sweetie?”

  “But Daddy, I really want to go hang out. Terry leaves for college in a week and—”

  Donny quickly tamped down a flash of rage. He knew that the more he pushed her, the more likely his obstinate daughter would disobey. “I understand sweetie. However, I need you home tonight and tomorrow. The Master has a task specifically for you and you’re going to enjoy it very much. We have a visitor for you to entertain.” Donny remembered the words of The Master that his daughter and this boy were compatible.

  From childhood, Elizabeth had been taught how to defend herself and manipulate those around her. In essence, she’d been trained for the day she’d take over his role with the congregation. Something went wrong along the line, though, and now that hormones had reared their ugly heads, Donny genuinely worried Beth was becoming psychotic, frequently displaying poor decision-making skills and erupting in fits of uncontrolled rage. Regardless, he still thought of her mostly as his little girl.

  He heard a huff at the end of the line. “Of course, Daddy. I’ll stay home.”

  “That’s my princess. I’ll be home in a few. Wear something cute. I think you are going to really like this guest.”

  “Gross, Dad. You are being all creepy.”

  “Okay … I’ll stop. Love you, pumpkin.” As he ended the call, the possibility of jeopardizing his daughter crept up again in Donny’s mind. The Master must have a plan, even if Donny couldn’t see it. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling this situation bothered The Master. The Master always relied on fear to ensure people stayed in line. With Donny, there was always a line of reason and discussion open. This time, The Master gave him the impression fear played a big part in his decision making. It bothered Donny. Something of significant proportions brewed on the horizon.

  He pulled into the driveway and walked hurriedly up the stairs to the house. The housekeeper, Shelly, was busily putting away freshly washed linens.

  “Shelly, is everything prepared for our two guests?”

  Without discussion she nodded, “Yes, sir. Am I correct in assuming they’ll be staying for dinner?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  Donny poured himself a double scotch from his liquor cabinet. He almost never drank this late in the day, but his conversation with The Master had left his nerves in shreds. Outside the house, headlights from an approaching vehicle caught his eye.

  “Elizabeth, please come here.” Donny shouted down the hallway.

  “Yes, Daddy,” his daughter answered.

  Beth came into the room and although being less than thrilled about being told what to wear that evening, she did as told. Elizabeth had to follow his instructions to the letter if this whole thing stood a chance of working out. If The Master’s understood this situation correctly, Beth and the boy must grow close in order to stave off the fulfillment of the prophecy.

  He stood at the window and watched the three exit the truck. Matthew exited the driver’s side, and the boy climbed out the other. Matthew then let a woman, presumably the boy’s mother, out the rear. From his vantage point, they painted an odd scene. The woman was dressed in a bikini top and cut-off jeans. The boy wore a t-shirt and a pair of swim trunks. The woman didn’t look like she’d be the mother of a son that old. If the prophecy rang true, this petite woman and her handsome son potentially spelled ruin for their way of life. Again, he’d have to rely on the wisdom of The Master to see them through.

  The Long Road to Riapoke

  Having found nothing in the lake to indicate anything happened to Meghan and her son, Mike and Bill continued toward Riapoke. Mike hated dragging Bill into this mess, but they should be safe enough if they stuck together. Bill, bred from farm stock, was a formidable man. Spend
ing a career as a merchant marine sailor, he knew how to handle himself. Mike, however, was incapable of frightening anyone. Though he had taken good care of himself and outside of a few karate classes as a boy, fighting wasn’t really his style.

  As they made the turn in the lake, the docks of Riapoke lay ominously in the distance. Scanning the surface of the water, he trained his binoculars on something that made his heart sink. In the middle of the lake a red boat cushion bobbed aimlessly. It could have come from anywhere; however, Mike knew better.

  “Looks like a cushion floating up there,” Bill said, looking out over the water. The older man’s eyesight still as good as ever.

  “Yeah,” Mike said, silently praying it didn’t belong to the resort.

  Using a gaffing hook to catch the cushion, it hung momentarily in the air as it confirmed Mike’s suspicion. ‘Property of Hideaway Resort’ was emblazoned in yellow letters across the top. Under those words, written by hand in indelible marker, was the number 21. The same number as the boat Meghan and Kyle borrowed that morning. They made it at least this far, no other explanation fit.

  Circling the boat around, a few other disturbing items bobbed up and down. A bottle of suntan lotion, a half-empty bottle of water, and a bag of snacks floated together as if clinging to dear life.

  “Bill, I think we need to get closer to Riapoke.”

  Bill frowned disapprovingly. “Not sure I like that idea.”

  Mike knew Bill lived in the area, since before he bought his portion of the resort. He constantly warned people away from Riapoke, citing the rumors and innuendo surrounding the small town. Even as an adult, it shaped his opinion of the place.

  “Bill, I’m not going to tell you that you have to come with me, but I sure as hell don’t want to go alone.”

  The bow section of the hull hit something just below the surface of the water. A grating sound assaulted their ears as the boat moved forward. Mike grabbed one of the oars and pushed it under the surface to feel what lay beneath.

  “I can feel it but, it is a few feet down and I can’t see what it is. Bill, back us up a bit.”

  Bill reversed the boat’s engine and the hull scraped again on whatever it was. Without hesitation, Mike jumped into the cold waters of the lake, popping to the surface a few seconds later.

  “What on earth are you doing, Mike?” Bill stood from his captain’s chair.

  “Give me a minute.” Mike disappeared again, legs briefly dangling in the air before disappearing below the water. A few moments later he breached the surface again. “Bill, throw me a rope!”

  Not questioning Mike’s sudden irrational behavior, he threw one of the bow lines to his boss. Catching the rope, Mike descended again. It was a good twenty seconds before he surfaced. “Get me out of this water, I’m freezing my ass off!”

  “Damn fool, you ought to know better than to jump in like that. You’re going to freeze to death.” Bill put a blanket around Mike after pulling him up on the deck. “What in tarnation were you doing anyway?”

  “I found something, Bill. Something big and aluminum. I think it’s a boat. I attached the rope to the bow eye. I think we can pull it up.”

  “There’s tons of junk in the bottom of this lake. It could be just about anything. Who knows, you may have found the hood of someone’s car or a piece of an old aluminum pier.”

  Mike shook his head, “No way, this is the hull of a boat. I felt along its edge, and the fore section of the hull is sitting upright with the aft on the bottom. I am pretty sure we can get the thing up and have a look at it. The metal moved easily enough when I pulled on it.”

  “Could be an old boat someone sank years ago,” Bill offered as he pulled on the rope. If a fishing boat went down on the lake recently, they would’ve heard about it. That hadn’t happened before, as far as they remembered.

  A wave of panic hit Mike as the tip of the bow broke the surface. He couldn’t see the registration numbers on the side of the boat. His gut, however, spoke volumes on the subject.

  “Hold her there, Mike, I’ll grab the gaffing hook.” Grabbing the side of the boat with the long hooked pole typically used for fishing, Bill reeled in the side of the hull and rolled the craft over on its side. As soon as the sides of the boats met, Mike ran another rope through the oar sockets and secured it.

  Mike scanned the bow. The boat definitely belonged to the resort. More precisely, this was the boat Meghan and Kyle left in. A chill ran up his spine as the number 21 crested the water’s surface.

  The resort boats were essentially indestructible under normal circumstances. If this one had sunk, then something unexpected happened. As Bill worked feverishly to get water out of the stricken boat, Mike examined the piers of Riapoke. “Maybe they made it over there?”

  “They could easily swim it, even in a storm like this. The water is pretty cold, though. They could’ve just as easily been swept somewhere else.” Bill retorted.

  Mike hated the thought of Meghan and Kyle stranded in that town. However, that was the most likely outcome.

  The water may be ice cold, but even the slowest swimmer should have been able to cross that distance.

  “Bill, let’s head into town,” Mike said.

  Bill shook his head. “Are you sure that’s such a good idea? I’ll go in with you, as there’s no way I’d let you go alone, but they haven’t been missing that long. We should go back to the resort and call the police again. Going into town can be dangerous.”

  Mike winced at the suggestion. “I know, and I have a bad feeling about all of this, but I have to do something. I won’t force you to go, but I’d sure feel better if you did.”

  Bill started the engine and edged the throttle forward, slowly dragging the water-logged boat along with them. “Well, it’d give us the chance to bring the boat up out of the water. We’ll need to get that home anyway. Alright then, let’s go. We’ll take this slow and stay together.”

  Dragging the boat along with them made their progress slow, which gave Mike time to think about the situation. Tales he’d heard, as a child, sounded like rumors to keep kids from going into town and starting trouble. Just rumors; however, enough circumstantial evidence existed to give him pause.

  As an adult, tales of monsters roaming the woods were shoved aside as childish fantasies. What couldn’t be easily dismissed, however, were the very real instances of missing people. In some cases, Riapoke was the last place the person was reported being seen, or in a couple of cases, persons. The lawyer in him couldn’t simply let that strange coincidence just skulk away unnoticed.

  The town and the local magistrate accepted the official findings that the people went missing in the mountains and were presumed dead. The victims all shared one commonality: they were essentially loners, with no family or friends around to inquire about them. With no one asking questions, no one ever bothered to check the validity of the official findings. Over the last ten years, there were many such cases reported. Mike suspected the number was far higher than the number reported with people just vanishing without a trace or any official report being made.

  The boat’s hull made a dull thud as it bounced up against the side of the wooden dock, bringing Mike out of his inner dialog. Mike jumped up on the platform and tied the boat off in a knot he was sure would keep it secure yet come off easily if they found themselves in need of making a hasty escape from town.

  Bill jumped in the crippled boat and started bailing water.

  “Looks like it was just swamped, no real damage. As soon as we get the boat bailed out, we can get out of here. The battery is water resistant, but not waterproof. It could still have enough juice to run the bilge.”

  “Let’s leave that for now. I want to find out what happened to Meghan and Kyle. If they are hold up in this town somewhere, I’d like to bring them back with us.”

  Bill, huffing and puffing from the exertion of bailing out the boat, panted, “Just give me one sec.” After a minute, Bill flipped a switch, and the grinding, sli
ghtly electric noise of the bilge pump pierced the afternoon quiet. The old mariner had a few tricks up his sleeve.

  Mike found himself reassured at the sounds of water being shot out of the side of the boat. “You are a wizard on the water. Now, let’s see if we can’t find our missing guests.”

  Bill stepped up onto the dock. “I think we just got lucky that battery had enough juice to work the pump. Let’s hope our luck holds.” Bill pointed toward the lights of town. “Ever actually visited Riapoke?”

  “Nope, you?”

  Bill frowned. “Once, many years ago. I came here for a funeral. An old friend of mine passed away who moved to Riapoke to live with family. He only lived about six years after moving here. The townspeople treated me nice enough, but kinda weird at the same time.”

  Mike walked slowly toward shore. “What made it weird?”

  “You know how you go to places like funerals and weddings and people talk, kids will play outside, people cry, that kind of thing?” He let the rhetorical question sink in, then continued, “Well, no one did that. As a matter of fact, everything seemed staged. And no one talked to me. The only person to talk to me was my friend's sister, and old friend, and she limited the conversation to his last days, and the routine things you’d think people talked about at funerals. And there was this man who kept following us around. I tried to shake him, but it only brought him closer.”

  Mike laughed nervously. “Well, everyone grieves in their own way.”

  Bill said, “No Mike, no one grieves like that. Reminded me of stories I’d heard of North Korea or something. Everything felt rehearsed by an unseen central authority. Everyone acted exactly as expected. At one point I asked someone a question, and they struggled for an answer like they really had no idea what pre-ordained reply was appropriate. Like I’d gone off script or something.”

  “Way to add to the creep factor, Bill.”

  Bill nodded his head. “If you’re creeped out, then good. That means you understand what I’m driving at. We need to tread carefully. These people aren’t normal, not by a long shot. Going into town could be the last decision we ever make. Are you really sure you want to do this? Not too late to turn back, you know?”