Rogue's Hollow

by Jan Tilley

  “Did you tell your mom?”

  “I tried to. I told her about it once. She questioned him and he denied the whole thing. He said that we were spoiled brats who didn’t want to follow his rules. As soon as she left for work, he beat the hell out of us both. After that, I kept my mouth shut.”

  “How long did this go on for?”

  “It went on for about a year, once or twice a week.” He covered his face and sobbed. “My baby sister, Holly. How could he do that to her? He was supposed to take care of her and protect her, not rape her.”

  He hugged himself and rocked back and forth. “One night, she fought back. She ran from the bedroom and started screaming my name. When I got to the staircase I saw him rush up behind her and shove her. She flew like a rag doll. I tried to run up the stairs and catch her, but it was no use. She somersaulted and broke her neck, died almost instantly.”

  Rocking harder, he cried, “She took her last breath in my arms and that fucking bastard said she deserved it. That she was an ungrateful little bitch.” Looking at Malachi for some form of comfort, he said, “She was only ten.”

  He stood up and punched a nearby tree. “Oh, God. How could he do that to her?” Walking in circles, he ranted with rage. “Then, to top it all off, he made me lie about it. He made me say that Holly and I were chasing each other down the stairs when she fell. Like it was all my fault. Said he’d do the same thing to me and my mom too, if I didn’t cover for him.”

  Malachi sat numb, in shock from what Travis had just told him. He knew that Travis’s home life was a mess, but he never expected this. “I am so sorry that you had to go through that, Travis. I know he’s your father, but the man is pure evil.”

  Travis nodded. “You have no idea. He had anger issues and seemed to enjoy beating on us. Said he couldn’t control himself. He would win mom back with flowers and a roll in the hay. She always forgave him.

  After Holly died, she never looked at me the same way again. She blamed me for losing her princess. She used to tell me that I was just like him. Just like my dad.”

  He hung his head. “Bastard took off shortly after that and left us. Maybe she was right after all. I am a monster just like him. Look at what I did to this kid. I’m a freak, Malachi. I need to be locked up. I heard that’s where he is now, in prison. We can have a family fucking reunion.” He looked at Malachi, his eyes pleading for guidance, terrified. In the silence, he began rocking his body back and forth, almost as though he were trying to comfort himself. His sobs were long and groaning, like his heart was breaking.

  Malachi took a deep breath and tried to focus his thoughts. This was wrong. This was so wrong that there was no possible way to right it. He didn’t try to comfort Travis. He sat idly by and let the boy mourn for what he’d done. It was necessary for him to realize the travesty that had occurred here today.

  It tortured Malachi to watch his friend in so much pain. The kid was traumatized on so many levels. This reminded him of the post traumatic shock syndrome that survivors dealt with. He’d read about it in the paper. So many military men came back from war duty with horrific experiences. Something would spark their memories and they’d snap. He’d read accounts of a wife cooking dinner and the smoke alarm would go off, the ex-soldier would jump up from his slumber on the couch, grab a baseball bat and bludgeon her to death, fully thinking that he was under enemy attack and had to defend himself.

  Travis had just experienced such an event. All those memories of his sister being abused were triggered when this punk attacked that girl in the woods. Adrenaline must have surged deep within Travis. And then, when the kid began to chase after her, Travis recalled his sister being killed. When he tackled the guy and he pulled a knife on Travis, he must have snapped. All those threats from his father had latently lain deep within Travis, just waiting for a trigger. And this was it. This was no self-defense death. The more that Malachi thought about it, Travis was taking out his aggression towards his father on this kid. This was a very old wound that had never healed. Today, the scab got scratched off and Travis reverted back to that scared little boy, fearing for his own life.

  Malachi rubbed his head in disgust as he wondered what kind of parent would do something like that to his precious children. Malachi would give anything to have his son back. Travis’s father had managed to ruin both of his children’s lives. He was nothing short of a monster.

  Malachi sat lost in thought, while Travis struggled with his own demons. He began fiercely rocking back and forth, sobbing, “Holly. Oh, God. Why, Holly? I should have been there for you. It should have been me. I’m so sorry.”

  As much as Malachi wanted to be angry with Travis, he just couldn’t. This poor kid had been through so much. Abandoned by his mother and his father; forced to cover up a murder that wasn’t his fault. He was just starting to get his life back on track and now this. This would ruin him. Malachi took in the crisp fall air as his mind raced trying to figure out what to do next. He had to come up with a plan. Someone had to protect Travis. There was no way he was going to allow Travis’s father to win and take his friend away. Guilt at the thought of covering up such a gruesome crime flew out the window and he knew what he had to do.

  “Travis, did the girl see you?”

  Shaking his head, he sniffled and replied, “I don’t think so. She was long gone before I stepped out from behind the tree.”

  “Okay. You’re going to have to help me.”

  Travis wiped his nose. “Help you do what?”

  “Clean this mess up. Let’s go get some supplies.”

  Travis sat silently in the passenger seat as Malachi drove back to the mill. He helped load the things that Malachi handed him into the back of Rosie and they returned to the woods. As they approached the scene, there was a rustling up ahead. Travis about jumped out of his skin. Malachi stopped and then quietly continued walking towards the sounds. Maybe someone had come back. Maybe the girl had told her parents and it was them or even the cops coming back to get the kid.

  Malachi crept closer. He didn’t see anyone around the body. As he came around a bend in the path, he saw that it was Baxter. He was lapping up the blood in a frenzied manner, completely oblivious to the visitors right in front of him.

  Travis looked at the dog licking the blood off the dead kid’s body and said, “No, Baxter. Bad dog. Stop that!”

  Malachi chimed in, “No, that’s good. Let him go.” He gave Baxter a pat on his furry head and encouraged him. “Good boy.”

  They laid a large tarp on the ground and rolled the body over onto the plastic. Malachi grabbed a rake and scooped up as much of the bloody leaves and saturated dirt that he could and threw it on top of the body. As many times as he looked at the kid, he couldn’t get used to the sight.

  Malachi had Travis help him roll the body up inside the tarp and he duct taped it as tightly as he could. He didn’t want to leave a trail as they drug the body out of the woods.

  Baxter never missed a beat as he eagerly ate the bloody leaves left behind. Crunching them as though they were potato chips, and stopping occasionally to lick his lips. “Good boy, Baxter. Get ‘em all,” Malachi said with a pat to the dog’s head.

  Travis and Malachi left Baxter to his clean-up work and they proceeded to drag the corpse towards Rosie, who was patiently waiting down an overgrown drive at the edge of the woods. Travis was stronger, so he took the lead. Walking backwards, he grabbed hold of the make-shift body bag and began to pull. It was heavier than he had anticipated. He struggled with the weight and began to sweat. He grimaced and grunted as he tugged at the kid’s feet discreetly sealed inside the tarp.

  He wasn’t prepared for how difficult this task would be. A squirrel began to chatter in the woods and caught Travis’s attention. He wasn’t alert to where he was walking and stepped backwards into a small hole. Losing his footing, he quickly tumbled to the ground. As he fell, the body followed and landed partially on top of him. Travis couldn’t move fast enough to get the kid off of him. H
e felt like he was being attacked again.

  The scene and Travis’s reaction made Malachi grin. “He’s already dead. I don’t think he can hurt you now.”

  Travis jumped to his feet and leaned against a nearby tree trying to catch his breath. “I can’t do this.”

  “Sure you can. We don’t have any other choice. Just rest for a moment and gather yourself and then we’ll finish up.”

  Leaning against the tree, panting, Travis began to cry. “I’m so sorry.” He covered his face to hide his tears. “Why are you helping me like this? Why don’t you just call the cops and wash your hands of me? All I do is cause you trouble.”

  Malachi sighed and sat down on a nearby log. “Our families have a long history together. We watched out for each other back then and we’ll do it again now. Beside that, I believe in you, Travis. You’re not a bad person. You’ve just made some bad decisions. We’ve got to get your rage under control. I believe that we can do it. You’ve got a lot to be angry about, that’s for sure. But it’s the past and you can’t live in the past. We need to focus on building you a strong future.”

  “I don’t have a future. I don’t even recognize myself. What kind of a monster does something like this?” He pointed to the tarp covered body that lay in a twisted heap on the path in front of them.

  Malachi nodded. “Yeah, this is bad. But you didn’t do it on purpose, son. You let anger and fear take over your rational thinking. We need to work on that.”

  “You make everything sound okay. Like it’ll work out and I can actually be a good person.”

  “You are a good person, Travis. Don’t talk like that.” He slapped his knees with his hands and stood up, wincing with back pain. “Come on now. Let’s get this outta here before someone sees us.”

  Travis grabbed the tarp at the feet and sighed as he began to tug. As much as they tried to lift the body and carry it, Malachi couldn’t pull his weight and the tarp drug along the ground.

  It took all the strength they had to heave the body up into the truck bed. Malachi wished that there was time to sit and rest for a moment to catch their breath, but there wasn’t. They must move quickly. He wiped his brow and asked Travis to drive.

  Malachi instructed him to pull around back of the mill and park next to a small trailer beside the shed. Then they got into the truck bed and rolled the body up and over the side. It landed on the trailer with a sickening thud. Malachi grabbed some old blankets from the shed and covered the tarp.

  “Travis, go and get us some water to drink.” Malachi stayed behind and reloaded the truck bed with a rake, shovel and a box of Lime. They gulped down the waters and headed back to finish the mission they’d set out to accomplish.

  As they hurried back to the accident site, Malachi demonstrated how he wanted Travis to redistribute the leaves on the path to hide the marks left behind from dragging the body. Immediately, Travis went to work.

  Baxter was still there, munching away. Most of the bloody mess was gone, but some had saturated down into the dirt. Malachi dug a small trench and sprinkled the dirt with Lime. He then turned the dirt over, dumping the blood stained area into the hole, adding additional Lime as he went. He saturated the entire area with the fine powder when he was finished and raked fresh leaves over it as a cover up.

  He called for Baxter to come with him. The last thing he needed was for his dog friend to start digging. The Lime should help cover the smell, but Baxter had a special attraction to blood. He needed to keep him far away until the scent dissipated. This was private property that Malachi’s family had owned for decades. But folks still trespassed onto it, as those kids had done today.

  As he headed down the trail, he shuffled leaves with his feet. Travis had done a good job covering the trail. You couldn’t tell anyone had been on it at all. Malachi sprinkled additional Lime as he walked towards the truck, trying to camouflage any residual scent that was left on the trail.

  Meeting with Travis near the end, they finished up and placed their tools back in the truck bed. Malachi led Baxter down to the creek and washed him off, trying to remove any remnants of the feast the dog had just devoured. Malachi gave Baxter a treat that he kept in his glove box and sent the dog happily on his way, back home to Roberta.

  Malachi pulled around back and parked. “Go change your clothes and get cleaned up, Travis. Bring your dirty clothing out back and leave them by the barrel so we can burn them. I’ll be back in a bit.” Travis headed into the house as Malachi hooked his tractor up to the wagon and pulled it off into the woods.

  As Travis showered he began to cry. He’d never felt like more of a failure in his entire life. Why did he always have to screw everything up? Malachi had been so good to him. What would happen to him when Malachi came to his senses and kicked him out? Where would he go? His mom didn’t want anything to do with him. There was no one else that he could rely on. Feelings of isolation and confusion flooded his thoughts.

  The back of his right arm began to burn as he ran a bar of soap over it. Upon closer inspection, he saw that his flesh had a large gash in it. The kid must have cut him before he got the knife away from him.

  He was so angry at himself. It took all his will to fight the urge to cut himself. The desire was strong and he wanted to so badly, imagining how good it would feel to inflict pain on his body and to silence his inner demons. All he’d ever wanted was for someone to care about him, to see value in his life. And Malachi had done just that. He was the only one who’d ever believed in him. Tears flowed even harder when he realized how much he’d let Malachi down.

  There was no explanation for what he had done. Tears mixed with the shower water causing a constant stream down his face. Through his own sobs, he thought that he heard Holly’s voice calling out to him. “Travis, help me.” The memory of the night she died haunted him.

  For the first time in a long time, Travis talked to God. “I will never understand your ways. Why would you take my sweet little sister and leave a monster like me behind?” He purposely banged his head against the ceramic tiles on the wall and fell to the ground sobbing. Curled up in a fetal position, rocking himself back and forth as the shower continued to pelt him with water, he cried out, “I don’t deserve to live. I wish I’d never been born.”

  Fifteen

  Several days went by. Travis and Malachi never spoke of the event in the woods again. Travis couldn’t bring himself to ask Malachi what he’d done with the body. He thought it was better if he didn’t know.

  Travis got up early Saturday morning and began working on the old bridge. He was trying so hard to redeem himself. Even though Malachi never said a harsh word about the incident, a dark cloud hung over them. He could tell that his mentor was disappointed in him.

  As Malachi tended to his angel bush, Travis’s attention was drawn to a car turning down the old mill lane. Not many tourists ventured way out here in November. He stood up and got out of the way as the vehicle approached the bridge. Travis’s stomach dropped when he saw that it was a police car making its way closer and closer. The officer waved and Travis nodded as the car passed over the rickety old bridge headed for the mill.

  Malachi acted calm and collected. “Officer Fischer, it’s nice to see you again. What brings you out here to the sticks on this crisp November day?”

  Fischer shook his hand. “Hello, Malachi. Great day for a drive. It’s so beautiful out here. I can see why you stay.” He removed a paper from his pocket. “Do you have a moment that I could speak with you?”

  “Absolutely. Come on inside and I’ll get you some more of that lemonade that you like so well.”

  “Thanks. I’d greatly appreciate that.”

  Malachi waved at Travis as they headed inside the store. Travis hadn’t taken his eyes off the cop from the moment he pulled into the drive.

  “Glad to see that old bridge is getting some repair,” Fischer said as the cowbell chimed when they entered the store.

  Malachi replied, “My friend, Travis, has been workin
g with me for a while now. He’s turned into a real good handyman and has been a big help to me out here. Lord knows I can use the assistance.”

  Fischer nodded as he looked around. “Place looks real nice. Are you glad the Halloween rush is over?”

  “Yes, sir. It’s the same thing every year. Tourists and kids flock to the area looking for ghosts and things that go bump in the night. Which is fine with me because they usually stop here on the way and drop a few bucks, but it does get exhausting on these old bones.”

  “I know exactly how you feel.”

  Malachi led the officer into the kitchen, washed his hands and poured him a tall glass of fresh lemonade. Fischer sat at the table and gulped it down in two long drinks. Then he a small notebook from his pocket as Malachi refilled his glass.

  “Another kid’s gone missing, Malachi. This one was last seen right around here, too.”

  “Really? Who’s the kid?”

  Fischer clicked his pen as he read over his notes. “Eighteen year old, Bently Blake. Local kid. Dropped out of school last year and works at the lumber yard just outside of Doylestown.”

  Acting nonchalant, Malachi asked, “Do you think he took off?”

  Fischer took a sip of lemonade and gave him a half nod. “There’s a good chance. We had a girl file an attempted rape charge against him. We’ve been looking for him to question and he seems to have vanished.”

  “Do you think he came this way?”

  “He was last seen in the woods down by the creek. I would have just filed this one away, but his parents are insistent that something has happened to him. Do you know who owns the land adjoining the bridge?”

  “I do, Officer Fischer. It’s been in my family for decades. Do you think he’s hiding out down there?”

  “Who knows with kids these days.” Opening up a paper, he showed Malachi a picture. “This is a recent shot of him. Did he stop in here by any chance?”

  Malachi took out his glasses and carefully inspected the photo. He sighed as he looked at the smiling young face on the paper. He would have never recognized him from the gruesome scene he saw in the woods that evening. Shaking his head, he handed the paper back to Fischer. “Nice looking kid. I haven’t seen him here in the store. I like to take hikes in the woods quite a bit, so I’ll keep my eyes open for anything strange.”