The Dying Season

by J. Reichman

“Louise closed Town Hall,” Zenia said. “Suppose she went home. The power’s out. Phones, too. Lines down somewhere.”

  “My cell doesn’t get a signal,” Jeff said.

  “Tower down, probably,” Nick said.

  “Here comes Brett.” Jeff pointed to the cross street as Brett’s Durango came into view. The sight of the Durango lifted Nick’s spirits.

  “He may know more,” Zenia said.

  Brett soon joined the group and stared down to the highway where brown spray thundered against the side of Town Hall.

  “You got hit, too,” Jeff said.

  “Figured.” Brett shrugged. “I watched with Shannon. One of the bedroom windows. The bar sailed away, hit Giovanni’s. Both went.”

  Nick’s heart sank again.

  “They’re gone?” Zenia said.

  “Yep.”

  “Wonder when the water’ll go down,” Nick said.

  “Surge’s over.” Brett said. “Maybe this afternoon.”

  “We need to assess where we stand,” Nick said. “How bad is the damage? When will power be restored?”

  “No phones,” Zenia said. “How do we find out?”

  “What about heat?” Lyn said. “Our house is all electric.”

  “It’s been cold at night,” Brett said. “Lots of folks have electric pumps for water, too.”

  “We need to see who’s here and if anyone needs help,” Lyn said.

  “I want to run up to the elementary,” Zenia said. “Logan’s in class. The teachers should be told what’s going on. And I’ll talk to Louise Sandler. See if Charlie might’ve been on the road.”

  “I need to change clothes,” Lyn said.

  “Let’s meet at Brett’s cabins in an hour,” Nick said. “We’ll figure out what to do.”

  “Good idea,” Brett said.

  The aspens on the far bank, which had bent to the current, gave way one by one to the river's wrath, wafting slowly at first, then turning root-first to sail downstream.

  FIVE

  As the rain slowed to an irritating drizzle, Nick decided to take the all-terrain vehicle, an ATV, down to the cabins. He’d reached the conclusion that the best way forward was a meeting at the school that evening, but everyone had to be informed. That meant knocking on doors. At the foot of the street, he found residents gathered to marvel at the raging brown water covering the highway. To his right, three feet of water flowed through Hardin’s General Store, its front door twisted and the glass missing. The tall sign in front of the store leaned precariously. Striker’s gas pumps were gone. Tree roots hung from the missing window at Jackson’s Sporting Goods. To Nick’s left, water swirled around the antique store and the deli, but across the street where Giovanni’s Pizza and Buddy’s Bar once stood, only muddy water foamed.

  Brett, Jeff, and Zenia waited at the cabins set in a horseshoe shape around an island of green. Sided with weathered wood shingles, each cabin had a small porch with a wooden rail and a stone chimney which rose from the back.

  "I've been reconnoitering," Brett said. "The bridge is out over the North Fork."

  "My God, Nick. We were the last vehicle to cross it," Lyn said.

  “Maybe.” Nick turned to Zenia. “Did you talk to Louise?”

  Zenia nodded. “Charlie went up to Estes this morning. Could’ve been him.”

  “What should we do?” Lyn asked.

  “Can’t do anything until the water recedes,” Brett said.

  “He could be fine,” Nick said. “He was about one hundred yards behind us. Probably saw the bridge go. Stopped. Turned around and went back to Estes.”

  “Or got caught on the bridge,” Jeff said.

  “We’ll search downstream tomorrow,” Brett said. “The highway downstream is chewed up so badly that whole sections are missing."

  "Damn! You mean my folks can't get home?" Jeff said. "We're totally cut off?"

  "At least for now," Brett said.

  Nick considered the consequences as he watched Brett clean his muddy boots. No electricity. No phone. A little inconvenience for a couple of days, that’s all.

  "What about your store?" Nick thumbed over his shoulder. Seen from the back, the sporting goods store fifty yards downhill was apparently undamaged.

  "You saw the log through the front window. Water went through four or five feet deep. Mud everywhere. I'll be able to salvage some of it. Water's still over the highway about a foot deep but it's going down."

  "The rest?" Zenia said.

  "You know about Giovanni’s, the bar and Town Hall. The gas pumps are gone at Striker's. The antique store and the deli got the same damage I did."

  "Anybody else hurt or missing?" Nick said.

  "Not that I know of," Brett said.

  Nick turned to Zenia. "You went up to the school."

  Zenia nodded. "Talked to Herbert first. They've got power. Generator, you know. He got Cooper out of class and told him. Cooper's organizing things."

  "Cooper's a good man," Brett said.

  "Some parents won't be able to get back home," Jeff said.

  "He knows that," Zenia said. "My Linc at school down in Two Rivers won't be coming home. Rick, neither."

  "They'll be okay down there," Lyn said.

  "Chuck should be here." Jeff said. "He's our damned mayor."

  Surprised, Nick studied Jeff’s face. The boy’s eyes looked puzzled and hurt.

  "Not much good at leading," Zenia commented.

  "He'll be pissed if we don't consult him," Jeff insisted.

  Brett slapped his gloves against his thigh. "Personally, I'd rather have him pissed than have him here."

  "We can't contact help," Zenia said. “What do we do now?”

  “The authorities know we’re here,” Nick said. ‘They’ll be here tomorrow or the next day.”

  “This cloud cover has to lift first,” Brett said.

  “Electricity is our main problem,” Lyn said.

  “With the road destroyed, there’s no way for repair crews to reach the area,” Brett said. “It may be months before they get the lines up. Even the cell tower.”

  Nick re-evaluated the situation. A couple of days without electricity? Just inconvenient. Months? Devastating. His chest ached.

  "With no electricity, people will have no heat." Nick rubbed his hands together. "We've got to see if anyone needs help."

  "But with no way to communicate with each other, how will we coordinate aid?" Zenia looked around for an answer.

  "Let’s have everyone meet at the school at six. The school has power," Nick said.

  "Good idea," Brett said.

  “We’ll have to check each house,” Jeff said.

  Nick nodded. “Three streets go up into the hills. Lyn and I can take Cougar Run and the cross streets off it.”

  Zenia turned to Jeff. “How about you and I do Antelope Trace.”

  “Okay. That’s my home street.”

  “I’ll recruit Shannon and do Deer Trail,” Brett said. “Meet back here about four?”

  Jeff nodded. “Should be finished by then.”

  Nick and Lyn knew the Cougar Run neighborhood, knew which house was owned by a permanent resident and which was occupied only seasonally. Nick drove while Lyn knocked on doors. At many homes, no one answered. Those who did answer wanted to talk about what they’d seen and their fears about being stranded and separated from loved ones. Nick joined these conversations to reassure the nervous residents. A quiet cul-de-sac contained three houses: the Graysons, an older retired couple, the Strongs, a single lady with a son, and the Moores, a summer couple who had already closed their home for the winter.

  Nick parked in the Grayson's driveway. A window curtain moved and he glimpsed a face.

  "Howard’s spotted us," Nick said.

  "Janet told me he watches out the window more than he watches television." Lyn stepped out of the little vehicle.

  Nick turned off the engine. “Last house. Brook Strong works up in Estes."

  Howard Grayson opened
his door. Skinny and stooped, he waved for Nick and Lyn to come in. "Electricity's off."

  "Everyone's is." Nick noticed Howard’s heavy sweater. "Are you okay otherwise?"

  "Oh, sure."

  Nick thought Howard resembled a turtle with his face jutting forward from his curved back.

  Janet appeared at Howard's side. "Come inside. You're letting in cold air, Howard. It's already cold enough in here."

  "No heat." Howard stood back to let Nick and Lyn enter.

  "Did you go down to see the river?" Nick asked.

  "No. What's happened?" Howard shuffled to a chair and slowly sat.

  "A dam broke," Nick said. "The bridge is out, so we can't go up to Estes. The highway to the east is broken up and missing in places, so we can't get down to Two Rivers."

  Janet stumbled back. "My God, what'll we do?" She sat heavily on the couch. "When will the lights be back on?"

  "Phones are out, too," Nick continued. "And so is cell service."

  "No one knows we're stranded?" Janet sounded panicky.

  "Calm down," Howard said.

  "They know we're here," Lyn said. "Help will come when the weather clears."

  "Until then, we’re on our own," Nick said. "We’re meeting at the school at six. Is Brook Strong at work up in Estes?”

  Howard struggled to his feet. "No, and I’m worried about her. She didn't go to work and Andy didn't go to school."

  "Maybe Andy's sick," Lyn said.

  Janet shook her head. "Brook would call us. See, we keep Andy after school until she gets home."

  "We tried calling her earlier," Howard said. "No answer. I sent the wife over." He flushed a bit. "I've a bit of trouble walking, you see."

  "No one answered the bell," Janet said. "I could hear Duke barking in Andy's room."

  "Maybe she and Andy went somewhere," Nick said.

  "No. The car's in the garage," Janet said.

  "And there was a car up there this morning. A blue car," Howard said.

  "What make?" Nick asked.

  Howard shrugged. "They all look alike to me."

  "I think it was a rental. Had a sticker on it. A four-door sedan. Maybe an Audi." Janet grinned. "I used the binoculars."

  "It left a moment before the lights went out," Howard said.

  "I'm sure there's a logical explanation," Lyn said. "When we talk to her, we'll have her get in touch with you."

  Nick turned at the door. "Be sure to come to the meeting tonight."

  "We'll do that, Nick." Janet stood at the door as they left.

  Nick parked in the Strong’s drive. He watched Lyn trot up the steps to a small porch and knock. He could hear barking in a room to her right. No one answered. Something was wrong. Lyn knocked again. Only the dog answered. She waved to Nick and he joined her on the porch.

  "They must've gone with whoever was in the blue car," Nick said.

  "Don't you think the Graysons would've noticed?" Lyn frowned. "Is the car in the garage?"

  Nick stepped to the garage windows. "Yes. Look, I'll check the back."

  Lyn jogged down the steps. "I'll do that. Don't want you to be labeled a peeping Tom." She opened the gate at the corner of the garage and walked around back.

  Nick waited by the gate. He had a good view of the Grayson's house seventy or so yards down the hill and knew they would be watching. Everything’s gone so well until now. What could be the problem? He heard Lyn approach and turned. Her ashen face signaled trouble.

  "What is it?" He opened the gate.

  "Something's not right." Lyn bit her lower lip. "She's in the kitchen. I could see only her head and shoulders. It looks like she's sitting upright, on a chair I suppose. Her head is drooped forward, her chin on her chest, and her shoulders are bare. I tapped on the window pane. She didn’t even look up."

  Nick stared at his wife, then his eyes shifted as he considered the implications. A medical condition? Paralysis? Or something much more deadly?

  "What'll we do?" Lyn said softly.

  “I’ll try the door.” At the door, Nick turned the knob and shoved. No give. He noticed the deadbolt. “Locked.”

  “Now what?”

  Nick picked up a rock.

  Lyn caught his arm before he could throw it. “Maybe the Graysons have a key.

  SIX

  Lyn watched Nick return up the hill with the Graysons. She considered it a mistake to bring them. Why didn’t he just get the key? She knew what she’d seen through the window and feared Brook was dead or severely injured. The Graysons shouldn’t be involved.

  A few minutes later, they stood with Lyn and Nick at Brook’s door.

  "I'll go in first," Nick said and held out his hand for the key.

  "I'll go with you," Lyn said, determined to be included. "She'll be more comfortable with a woman here."

  Nick took the key from Howard, leaned to Lyn and whispered. "From your description, I think she's beyond caring if a woman's there."

  Lyn frowned. "Maybe, but still." She opened the storm door, her muscles tensing as though she faced a physical test.

  Nick inserted the key into the deadbolt lock, turned it, and tried the doorknob. The dog barked furiously as he opened the door.

  "She knows me." Janet elbowed Nick aside, entered the house, and called, "Brook. It's me." She disappeared toward the kitchen, screamed and came dashing back to them. "She's . . . she's . . . blood all over . . . she's . . ." She covered her face and burst into sobs. "I can't . . . it's too awful . . ."

  Howard stumbled in. "Come, Janet." He pulled her to the door. "We'll wait outside."

  Nick said, "Stay here."

  "No." Lyn shook her head. "I'm a nurse. I've worked trauma. We'll go together." Her hand at his back, Lyn followed her husband to the kitchen, dreading what she’d see.

  She stood silently in the doorway, looking over Nick’s shoulder. She focused first on the pool of blood on the floor near Brook’s bare feet. Zip ties bound Brook’s ankles to the chair’s legs and ribbons of dried blood ran down her legs from multiple cuts. Lyn bit her lower lip until it hurt to keep from moaning. A bloody rope circled Brook’s nude torso tying her to the chair. Her arms were pulled back. Several circular cuts marred her breasts, and inch-long lacerations covered her abdomen down to her pubic hair. Her chin rested on her chest, hair falling forward to hide her face. Lyn wanted to run and scream as Janet had done but knew she couldn’t. She looked at Nick and wondered if her face was as white as his.

  "What should we do?" she whispered.

  "Don't touch anything. It's a crime scene."

  "We can't leave her like that."

  "We have to." Nick approached Brook's body and felt her wrist for a pulse.

  "Still some warmth." He checked Brook's legs. "Rigor's setting in. From what Howard said about the car leaving, I'd say she's been dead about five hours. Six at the most."

  "We can't call the sheriff." She took her cell phone from her back pocket. "Stand back."

  Nick looked at her with a questioning frown.

  "They always take pictures on CSI," she said. She took a picture of the room and of the blood pool on the floor.

  "I don't think you need to do that." Nick tried to pull her away.

  Lyn shrugged him off. "Things may look different by the time the authorities get here." She wanted to snap at him. Why do men always think they know best? She photographed each part of the body and worked around back. "The monster didn't spare an inch of her."

  She moved to the front of the body. "Pull back her hair so I can get her face."

  Nick stood behind Brook and lifted her hair. Lyn gasped, staggered backward, dropped her cell phone, and ran from the room, hand over her mouth. She dashed from the house, leaned over the porch rail, and vomited into the bushes.

  "What is it?" Nick asked, his arm over her shoulders.

  "Water." Feeling her knees weak, Lyn gripped the porch rail. She wanted to be strong, to not react like a typical female, to show she could be counted on in this extreme situ
ation, but the horror was too overwhelming.

  “Here.” Nick handed her a bottle of water.

  She rinsed her mouth and spit into the bushes. She looked at Howard and Janet sitting in the ATV. "Come inside. I don't want them to hear."

  They stood in the entry, Nick's arms around his wife.

  "Her nose is split, and the bastard took out her eyes."

  Nick hugged her. "Enough with the pictures."

  "No," Lyn said. "It's important."

  Nick looked down into her eyes. “I'll do it then. You hold back her hair."

  Nick picked up Lyn's cell phone and knelt in front of Brook's body. "I'm ready."

  Lyn pulled back Brook's hair. Nick quickly snapped three pictures and stood. He turned off the cell phone, handed it to Lyn, and closed his eyes. "Where's the boy?"

  "We can't have him see her." Lyn put her cell phone in her back pocket. "I know." She left the kitchen and returned with a sheet.

  "Let me have one end," Nick said. "We'll lift it over her and gently drape her."

  "Okay."

  Finished, they stood back to inspect their work. Lyn spread the sheet to cover the pool of blood.

  "The boy." Nick turned from the kitchen.

  "Maybe in with the dog?" Lyn followed.

  "Let's check the rest of the house before we deal with the dog."

  They found a master bedroom and bath at the end of the hallway. Opening a closed door, they discovered the guestroom. A rope dangled from the bed's headboard.

  "Andy must've been tied up here," Nick said. "Take a picture."

  Lyn retrieved her cell phone and snapped several shots. Her stomach roiled with the thought of not only the pain Brook endured but at the anguish of the boy. It was too much. "Tied up while his mother's tortured and butchered. And he heard it all."

  Nick pulled her from the room. "The dog."

  "Wait a second." Lyn backed against the wall, covered her face, and took several deep breaths. She gave herself a mental shake. There is more to do, she realized. "Duke. That's his name." She breathed deeply again and stood straight. "He knows Howard and Janet."

  Howard and Janet still sat in the ATV.

  "The leash is beside the door in the garage," Janet said.

  "We need you to come in." Lyn put an arm over Janet's shoulders. "I know it's a lot to ask. I'll get the leash. You just go to the bedroom."