The Secrets of Moonshine

by Denise Daisy

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The man casually approached the hidden cabin, raised his fist, and rapped softly on the door.

  It opened immediately. The owner of the cabin stepped aside, allowing him to enter. Knowing the owner would never allow smoking within the confines of his cabin, he took the last draw from his cigarette and crushed the butt underneath his bare foot before he entered. The others were already there. He didn’t take a seat as they had. In fact, he hardly ever sat; it was his conviction to never allow himself to get too comfortable. Instead, he leaned against the wall, keeping one eye outside the window.

  “Okay, I’ve seen them all,” he addressed the men inside. “Damn odd group, if you ask me.”

  “Do you know which one of them is the one we‘ve been expecting?” The soft-spoken man asked from his cushioned chair.

  There was an extended pause before the owner of the cabin offered the answer. “She is called by the name Bronwyn.”

  The Smoker was shocked. “Are you certain?”

  “Very,” the owner responded, his answer brimming with conviction.

  “That’s just great,” the Smoker said sarcastically. “More work for me.”

  He gave the owner a roguish grin accompanied by a slight laugh before his face grew somber. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I never expected.”

  “Neither did I,” the owner replied. All the men remained silent for quite some time, each one understanding the severity of the situation.

  “She doesn’t know anything?” the Smoker asked, breaking the hush in the room.

  “No. Nothing at all.”

  “And you have no idea where she has been all this time?”

  “None.”

  “Do you think she is trustworthy?”

  “I have no reason to believe her not to be.”

  “Should you approach her?” The soft-spoken man asked.

  “No.” This time the owner’s answer carried ultimate authority.

  “The situation is much too delicate. We’ve waited so long; a bit longer will not hurt.”

  “He’s right,” the Smoker agreed. “Approaching her might set us way back, if not destroy everything.”

  “My advice is to wait,” the owner suggested. “I will find a way to take her to the waterfalls; after she feels the pull I am sure she will begin to approach us. In any case, the prophecy is now fulfilled. After all, she is here, isn’t she?”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Moonshine proved to be a delightful experience for everyone. Marcus and Anna had taken in the museum, learning some interesting trivia along with ancient Appalachian history. Walt found his way back to Larry’s garage, spending the better part of the afternoon shadowing him in an attempt to learn a few things about engines. Larry hadn’t minded. He actually enjoyed the company, and Walt was content having a chance to finish his hospital story. Wilbur found his way to the soda shop. He spent his afternoon in the air-conditioned store, treating himself to thick creamy shakes while reading a paperback novel he borrowed from the book rack.

  Meanwhile, the two girls escorted Trent and Daniel through town while enjoying the esteem and envy of everyone. The guys signed several autographs outside the soda shop, surrounded by giddy teenage girls to whom they could exaggerate stories of their fame.

  Karley, Lillian, and Bethany checked out the local shopping. Karley suggested the nature trails, but Lillian quickly vetoed the idea after remembering their harrowing walk into town and the thought of receiving a mauling by wild animals.

  It was now six o’clock, and in keeping with Marcus’ plan, the entire troupe re-grouped at Larry’s garage. Anna shared her opinions regarding what they should retrieve from the bus and what they should leave behind.

  “So how are we getting all this back to the inn?” Lillian asked, struggling with her suitcase as she pulled it behind her. “I’m quite certain I will not be able to roll this piece of luggage all the way back.”

  Bethany agreed it would prove to be quite cumbersome to roll their suitcases three miles down the narrow, crooked highway. Remembering Travis’ offer of a ride home, she suggested they look for him in town, in the hopes of hitching a ride back to the inn. Karley volunteered to look, and left in search of Travis. Larry offered to help, noting it would take more than Travis’ truck to transport ten people and all their baggage.

  “All the bags are out, except for Bronwyn’s,” Walt announced, closing the luggage compartment.

  “Why isn’t she here?” Wilbur barked.

  Bethany quickly came to her defense. “She left before the plan was made to meet. She has no way of knowing.”

  “Didn’t anyone run into her this afternoon?” Marcus asked. “It’s a small place; surely one of you saw her.”

  The troupe remained silent. No one had seen her since she stormed out of the café. Anna suggested she might have walked back to the inn.

  Travis’ truck pulled into Larry’s garage. Carla Jo and Molly were sitting in the back, just as before. Karley began yelling as she jumped from the cab.

  “We gotta get out of here! He says there’s another storm headed this way.”

  Looking across the rolling hills, Bethany noticed the boiling clouds. “She’s not kidding.”

  Marcus picked up the pace. “Let’s get moving guys; I, for one, do not want to get pelted by rain and hail again tonight.”

  Scrambling, the troupe began dividing themselves up between the two trucks. Soon Larry was heading down the road, his pickup full of passengers. The wind began to increase as Travis slammed the tailgate shut, instructing the kids to sit tight. He climbed in the cab looking at Lillian and Bethany, who were patiently waiting inside.

  “Where’s Bronwyn?”

  “Back at the inn, I hope.” Bethany said.

  “What do you mean, hope? You don’t know?”

  “She got upset at lunch and left the café. No one’s seen her since.”

  Heavy raindrops began plopping on the windshield just as Travis pulled the pickup onto the road. The town had emptied out considerably, everyone taking cover from the impending storm. Travis searched the streets and Bethany noticed. His deep concern aroused her curiosity, and she wondered why he would search so intently for Bronwyn. With the town now in their rear view mirror, the truck picked up speed racing toward Sandalwood Inn. The dark trees lining the road swayed with the wind, giving everyone an ominous feeling of doom.

  ***

  Bronwyn sat up from her reclining position. Her canoe drifted lazily across the water. She wasn’t sure how long she had been asleep, or when she had actually dozed off, for that matter. The peaceful quietness of the lake, the warm sun on her body, and the gentle rocking of the canoe provided the hypnotic elements to induce her to sleep. Retrieving the oar from the bottom of the vessel, she dipped it into the still, cool waters, and then gracefully and effortlessly guided the canoe to the dock.

  Approaching the shore, she saw a lone figure standing on the banks, waving to her. She strained her eyes to see who had discovered her private escape. As she paddled closer to shore, a face came into focus. No, it couldn’t be. No way…

  Her heart leaped inside her chest. Ryan? What was he doing here in Moonshine?

  She paddled closer, still not believing what she was seeing. No matter how much her mind wanted to disagree, her eyes didn’t lie.

  There he was, Ryan Reese, standing on the shore, as if he had just walked off the cover of the magazine from the store. Right down to the silly grin plastered across his face.

  “Bronwyn!” he yelled out to her, waving. She paddled the canoe close enough to the dock for him to climb aboard. “Take me out on the water.” His smile grew, so without a thought, she paddled the canoe back out into the water, all the while her mind reeling with questions.

  “How did you find me?”

  “You weren’t answering my calls, so I did some investigating and found out where you were, and here I am.” His arms stretched as wide as his grin.

  The calmness of
the afternoon suddenly shattered. Her anxiety level began rising within her.

  “You came all this way because of our script?” Anger seared within her voice.

  “No, babe.” Still, he smiled. “I came because I heard about the baby.”

  She gasped. Her mind searched for every possibility. “How do you know about that? I never told anyone about the baby. Not Bethany, not even my mother.”

  He sat unmoved, the smile still plastered across his face. Feeling a bit of chill in the air, Bronwyn looked up and noticed the sky growing dark. Strong winds began to blow across the surface of the lake, making it difficult for her to maneuver the canoe.

  “Ryan…” She struggled with her words, as well as with her paddling. “There is no baby. I lost it.”

  His grin remained in place. “Good. I came to ask you to abort it, anyway.”

  She wanted to scream at him or at least whack him upside his head with one of her oars, but the swirling waters around the canoe sucked in her attention. The wind had accelerated, stirring up large waves that washed over the canoe’s rails, pushing it further onto the lake. She struggled with the oar, each wave tossing it back to the surface of the water.

  “Can you please help me?”

  He shrugged. “You seem to be doing fine.”

  “No I am not!” She yelled above the wind. “I could really use your help.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t need me. You’re the strongest woman I know. You’ll survive this.” With those final words, he dove into the swirling waters, splashing her.

  She gasped for air and sat up. Raindrops splashed on her face. She looked around. No one was there. Ryan was gone, lost in the mist of sleep from which he came. She breathed a sigh of relief, grateful it was only a dream but anger still gripped her, anger over how he’d once again invaded the peacefulness of her life, causing immediate turmoil in her soul. She shivered at the thought of his manic smile.

  The sky had grown unusually dark. That part of her nightmare was real. A chill had fallen in the air, causing the wind to increase, bouncing the canoe about the water. She shivered at the sudden change of temperature. Only a few hours ago, the lake had been a peaceful paradise. The trees that before stood erect, pointing happily to the sapphire sky, now bent over, cowering in fear before the breath of the storm. The sky that had provided a playground for Whippoorwills, Warblers, Larks, and Waterthrush was now devoid of any chirruping. The vexed howl of the wind replaced their delightful songs. It seemed to her as if all nature cowered in fear of the arrival of some hideous creature. She sensed an overpowering feeling of doom, as if there were some foreboding secret of which all of nature was aware. She shivered uncontrollably from the iciness of the wind and the eeriness that penetrated her soul. Thunder sounded in the distance as smoky black clouds rolled violently across the sky.

  She attempted to maneuver the canoe to the dock. The muscles in her arms burned and her hands cramped from the tightness of her clutch on the oar. All her efforts to slice the water ended in futility. The tumultuous waves tossed the oar to the surface, as if it were nothing more than a wooden spoon. The rain smacked the lake in a downpour. The heavy wind blew the torrential rain into her face, making it impossible for her to see. Her heart raced within her chest; her circumstances were not good. Considering her situation, she guessed she was near the shore, yet uncertain as to how close. With the increasing wind, she could feel her tiny canoe pushed further back into the lake, trapping her in the consuming waves. She contemplated abandoning the boat altogether, and possibly swimming to shore. She was a decent swimmer, and could perhaps move her body against the fierce waves, more easily than she could maneuver the canoe with a worthless paddle. However, as fatigued as she was, she feared running out of strength, and then having no place of rest. She decided to continue her paddling and get as close to shore as possible before taking the eminent plunge into the angry waters.

  A streak of lightning zigzagged across the lake directly in front of her. Realizing her situation was growing dimmer by every second, she placed her drenched arm across her forehead, shielding her eyes, in an attempt to get a visual assessment of her distance from shore.

  Her heart leaped with excitement. She was closer than she realized! She eyed several trees growing out of the water; many of their branches extended farther out over the lake. Tossing her oar aside, she reached out to grab a branch. Her sudden movement, combined with the unevenness of the water and the overpowering waves, toppled her canoe, tossing her into the angry lake. The consuming waters rushed over her, and the waves were much stronger than she had anticipated.

  Disoriented, she tried to position herself toward the shore. However, the wind, waves, and torrential downpour teamed up against her. She desperately needed a focal point. If only she could get a quick glimpse of the shoreline, she could swim there with all her might. She dare not waste her last bit of strength until she was certain of her bearings. Swimming in the wrong direction would cast her deeper into the lake, resulting in inevitable death. Her legs burned beneath her. Exhaustion was setting in. She feared she could not tread the water much longer, yet certain if she stopped, she would surely be overtaken by the monstrous waves.

  The sky was almost dark now; there was little light left. Dismal gray surrounded her on every side. She strained her eyes for one small glimpse of shoreline. Just one glimmer of hope and she would exude every ounce of her strength to make it there.

  Another bolt of lightning hit nearby. The flash provided just enough light to point her way to shore. Her heart beat with excitement. With the last bit of strength, she forced her way, fighting against the powerful waters. Yet each wave that rose high above her pushed her back, keeping her from the shore.

  She swam hard, determined that this would not be how her life would end! Thoughts of her friends and family receiving the dismal news of her death invaded her mind. She pondered how the news would affect Ryan, and wondered if he would feel any remorse at all. More than likely, he would be delighted with her death - then he would be free to use the screenplay he was so desperately trying to steal from her. Her simmering anger gave her an added bit of strength and new momentum. She tossed him from her mind. She would not allow him be her last thought.

  Another wave washed over her, filling her mouth with water. She coughed, strangled by the sudden rush of fluid. The rain’s intensity increased, pouring over her along with the continual crashing waves. She was losing her last bit of strength at an alarming rate. She lowered her legs, to see if she could touch bottom. Nothing.

  Her heart ached. She wanted to cry. Her strength was completely gone. Her heart pounded so hard it seemed to be marching from her chest directly into her throat, choking her, suffocating her. Her heart pursed itself in desperate prayer; as she prayed to God for help.

  Feeling a small tap on her back, she whirled around. The canoe! Although it had capsized, it was amazingly still afloat! If she could manage to hang on to it, she might have a chance to drift to safety. Just as she reached for the canoe, an enormous wave pushed it toward her, causing it to violently crash into her head.

  The sudden rush of pain choked the breath out of her. She gasped. All was growing dark and quiet. She felt her strength escape as her body went limp. With all her strength ebbing away, she attempted to grab the canoe. Her hand had no power to grip; it only slapped at the side of the boat before sliding down across the hull and into the water. All was dark, save for a bright piercing light that blinded her eyes, as the swirling waters took possession of her body.

  There was no rain, no thunder, no howling wind and no final thoughts, only a bright light followed by a quiet cold darkness.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Mavis tossed dry, thirsty towels to every rain-soaked member of the troupe who bolted for the door.

  “Dinner’s ready in the kitchen when everyone’s dry.”

  Bethany caught the towel Mavis hurled her way, and began to dry off. “Mavis, is Bronwyn here?”

  “Hadn�
��t seen hide not hair of anyone all day.”

  Bethany dropped the towel from her face. “You mean she’s not here?”

  “Lessin she snuck in while I was out in the gardens. But I don’t think so; with the kids gone, it’s been quieter than a mouse around here.”

  Bethany did not wait for Mavis to finish before bolting up the staircase and into their room. It was the same as they had left it earlier, except for Mavis’ housekeeping. She pushed open the door to the adjoining bathroom. Empty!

  “Bronwyn hasn’t been back to the room,” She announced, returning to the foyer.

  “I don’t think she’s here, hon.” Mavis said. “Like I told you, I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of anyone all day.”

  Travis said nothing as he headed for the door. Bethany followed him. “If you’re going after her, then I’m coming with you!”

  “No, you’d do better staying put. This storm is deadly.” The authority in his voice caused her to back down and not argue, even though she wanted to go with him.

  “Take shelter if need be.” Mavis’ warning trailed him, as he left Bethany standing and headed out the door into the threatening storm.

  He jumped into his truck and sped down the highway. He, if anyone, knew the dangers of this storm. It was angry, ready to take its vengeance. He also knew not taking immediate shelter was an invitation to death. However, the risk of taking shelter was too high. He had seen what the presence could do. He was powerless against the force. He could not stop it, but he would do all within his power to keep it from claiming another life - especially hers. The wind pushed hard against his truck, as if it sensed the confrontation. He grasped the wheel; the muscles in his forearms bulged as he attempted to hold it on the road. Though flicking back and forth at full speed, his windshield wipers were of no use. The rain swept over his truck in sheets, blanketing his windshield, making it almost impossible for him to see. Straining his eyes, he looked through the blinding downpour. The sky was dark; the only light came from the lightning that danced tauntingly around his truck.