by Alexie Aaron
“You animal!” he screamed. “That fucking hurts.”
Ethan set his legs, ready for Blair’s return assault. But Blair dropped his arms and turned away, looking for his marker. “I fear, Ethan, it’s just you and I. Rory has decided to leave the party.”
“You can fuck off. I’m out of here,” Ethan said, picking up his equipment. “I don’t give a flying fuck whether or not the monster comes out to play. All I know is that you’ve shown your colors, as being a douchebag. I don’t hang with people like you.”
Blair, now armed and back in even temper, was looking at the place Rory and the fence post had vacated. “Go ahead. You’ll be as dead as Jason soon. Thank you for the earlier assist, but I feel we no longer have anything in common.”
Ethan glared at him, spat on the ground and left.
Blair looked at his back and watched the undergrowth quiver after him. “Poor sod, I could have told him not to go that way. Alas, it’s just me and the Smithe mice hiding in the bushes. Gentlemen, really,” Blair said, following the drag path of Vince’s heels. “You shouldn’t take all of this too seriously. Fun is fun.”
Sean who had managed to get Vince on his feet fifty yards away from camp asked, “Who’s he talking to?”
“Dunno,” Vince said drooling.
“Ollie Ollie and all that dribble,” Blair said, poking his marker into the bushes, trying to flush out the Smithe brothers.
He jabbed it again and was unable to free it. He winced as it was wrenched from his grip. “Clever, Sean, I didn’t know you had it in you.” Blair backed away. He dropped his pack and began looking through it for the small pellet revolver he’d stashed there. “If you want to play, then let’s have at it.” He turned quickly, shooting a ball of red paint into the bushes.
He must have missed his target because all was still. “Tell you what, Sean. I’ll give you a free one. I’ll just stand here, and you can shoot me with my own marker.” Blair lowered his goggles and stood with his arms to either side presenting a big target.
The marker came sailing out of the underbrush, skidding across the leaves and landing at Blair’s feet. He looked down. The barrel had been snapped off, and the hilt of the marker was twisted. “Talk about suing, that’s a seventeen hundred dollar marker you’ve ruined.”
A low guttural sound accompanied the shadow that crossed the ground in front of Blair. He looked up and fired.
~
Rory took off running away from the direction the sun was setting. The humidity in the clouds of the approaching storm caused the western sky to blaze in reds and oranges. He knew if he could keep going east, he would eventually hit civilization if not a road of some kind. He pushed through the thick undergrowth, sliding on the leaves.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
The noise echoed off the trees, scaring Rory and kicking in more adrenalin. He pushed through the thorny bushes as if they were defensive linemen. He twisted and turned until he broke free, landing at the feet of a very surprised deputy sheriff.
“Rory Kline?” Tom asked.
“Yes, sir,” he managed. He tried to rise, but a small gloved hand held him down.
“Stay still, you’ve got some wire wrapped around your leg,” the owner of the hand explained. “Ted, do you have any wire cutters…”
“Of course I do, no self-respecting tech would leave home without one,” he said handing the woman the tool.
“Rory, you are with friends. I’m Mia Cooper. I’m friends with Deb Booker. The tool man above you is Ted Martin. We’re here with Carl and Deputy Braverman searching for you and your friends,” she explained as she cut the wire and delicately removed it from his leg.
“They aren’t my friends,” he sniffed. “They’re back there, west, up the hill by an old fence.”
Mia let Rory sit up and Ted handed him a bottle of water from his pack.
“Rory, who’s up there?”
“Blair Summerfield, Ethan Aldridge and the Smithe brothers, although Vince wasn’t doing too good when I left.”
Tom picked up his radio and transmitted that they found Rory Kline alive, reporting their location and the supposed position of the other teenagers.
Murphy moved westward following the broken bushes and trampled grass left by Rory. He heard a man’s scream, and he moved quickly towards the sound.
“They were fighting. I managed to get away,” Rory said as Ted helped him to his feet. “Blair tasered Vince Smithe. As I said, he wasn’t looking too good when I left. I had to leave, I didn’t have a weapon and…”
“You’ve been through a lot,” Tom said. “We’re going to get you out of here and get you some medical help.”
“My mother, she must be frantic.”
“I’m sure the sheriff has called her,” Tom said. “Carl, can you find us a shortcut out of here?”
“Can do, follow me.”
A scream pierced the air, followed by three distinct cracks of an axe.
Tom pulled his gun and took off in the direction of the sound.
Mia looked over at Carl.
“Go. I’ll get the kid out,” Carl promised.
“Thanks. Rory, we’ll talk later,” Mia said as she followed Tom and Ted through the brush.
Murphy didn’t know what hit him. He drifted along, unable to control his movements. Moments before, he had reached the summit of the hill where he almost collided with a frightened young man dressed in a uniform of some kind. The teen’s body blocked whatever he was backing away from. Murphy pushed through him, brandishing his axe to an enemy he could not see. He searched the edge of the clearing looking for whatever had caused the boy to scream. A swirling mass of wood moved out of the undergrowth. Murphy managed to signal Mia, before the creature reached out and took his power.
With his heart pumping, Tom climbed the rise, following the path Rory made as he escaped. He reached the encampment at the northern most edge of Sentinel Woods to find it empty.
Ted and Mia were at his heels.
“There’s no one here,” he said, studying the ground for signs of which direction the kids had gone.
“Murphy!” Mia called and waited to hear the familiar scratching of his axe. Silence greeted her. “Ted, do you see him?”
“No. Murphy!” Ted called.
Mia pushed away the panic that was setting in. The earlier sightings of the specters that drifted in the woods flooded her memory. “What direction were they…”
“What?” Ted asked.
Mia waved him off. She took off her glove and lifted up her bare hand. It took a few minutes, but she felt the icy wind of the spectral dimension. She followed it away from the clearing, moving south where it swirled around an old sinkhole. There she found Murphy. He floated around the chasm, his body bent impossibly backwards, the spectral weight of his axe pulling his upper body downward. He drifted along with several other men dressed in furs and skins.
“Ted!” Mia called. “Down here, south of the hill,” she instructed.
“Coming,” he called.
Mia watched Ted’s progress down the hill, praying he wouldn’t lose his footing and end up in the chasm.
“Where is he?” Ted asked, walking over to her.
“He’s right there.” She pointed to the far side of the sinkhole.
“Where? I can’t see him?” he asked.
“He’s caught in an eddy of spectral wind over the sinkhole, along with three other men.”
“Don’t see anything but falling leaves.” He raised his camera and looked through the lens. “Sorry, but he’s not showing up.”
“Damn it to hell, she’s drained almost all of his power.”
“I’ve got a few of these,” Ted said, proudly displaying an energon cube. “Where should I toss it?”
Mia caught his hand. “Wait. I’m sure that thing will revive Murphy, but it’s going to fill those poor bastards with power too.”
“What’s to worry about? I have plenty to go around,” Ted asked.
“I don’t k
now if these are good guys or bad guys,” Mia said, studying one of the specters as he floated by. “What if we’re unleashing a baddie?”
“Do you know of a way to separate them from Murphy?”
“No.”
“Then we’ll just have to chance it,” Ted said and turned on the cube and set it on the forest floor near the edge of the sinkhole.
Mia watched as Murphy neared the cube. His axe glowed slightly, and he was able to pick up enough energy to stop and release himself from the eddy. He moved slowly towards the cube and set his axe into the custom groove. An explosion of light blinded Mia. She turned and sought Ted’s chest instinctively for safety.
“What in the name of Tesla was that?” Mia asked.
“Did you look into the light, Carol Anne?” he asked.
“Yes I did,” Mia admitted, fighting the blue dot hell she was in. “I can’t see anything. Did it work, can you see Murph?”
“He’s standing in front of us.”
Mia turned around and put her hands on her hips. “Want to explain how you’re hanging around here instead of tracking teenagers?”
“No,” he said.
“I bet you’re going to use the excuse that the entity stole your powers,” she guessed.
“Yes.”
“Well, we don’t know how to stop her, so maybe you should hang back with us fleshies until we do,” Mia suggested.
“Fine.”
Mia turned and looked up at Ted. “I think he’s in a grumpy mood.”
“I don’t know, I’d probably be feeling the same after being emasculated by a female entity.”
“It’s not like she took his balls… Do you still have your testicles?” Mia asked in a sweet voice.
“Bad Mia,” Murphy said and blushed.
“Is everything alright?” Tom called down.
“It is now.”
“I’m going to need some help up here. I have three sets of tracks besides Rory’s to follow and only one of me,” he explained.
“On our way,” Mia called and headed back up the hill.
Murphy followed her, Ted taking up the rear. Behind Ted walked three French trappers.
Chapter Thirty
Cid felt completely useless. He monitored Mia and Ted until they were out of range. He was able to give Sheriff Ryan heads up weather reports and act as a message center for the searchers, but aside from that, he’d just stood by while his friends hunted in the ever increasing darkness of the forest for the missing kids.
“Ahoy, permission to come aboard?” John Ryan called from the entrance to the trailer.
“Permission granted,” Cid said, eyeing the lawman and the young man he brought with him.
“I’m going to ask a favor,” John warned him.
“Favors are very valuable commodities, ask away,” Cid said, getting to his feet and offering the exhausted, dirty man-child behind Ryan his seat.
“I’d like to park Rory here until the EMTs arrive. There’s been an accident down on the interstate and…”
“It’s no problem. I’ll keep an eye on Rory, perhaps we can get him out of those clothes and into some PEEPs sweats,” Cid offered.
“Bag the clothes. We may need them,” Ryan ordered.
“Will do.” Cid waited until the sheriff left before pulling up another chair and sitting down. “Rory, welcome to the command center of the Paranormal Entity Exposure Partners or PEEPs. I’m Cid Garrett, call me Cid.”
“Can I call my mom?”
Cid handed him his cell. “Go ahead. I’ll give you some privacy.” Cid got up and typed a few commands into the computer. He picked up the iPad he had transferred the controls to and got off the truck.
“You gave him your phone?” Ryan asked from the shadows.
“Yes, but I’m taping his conversation. Care to listen?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Ryan said accepting the earbud.
“Thank God you’re alright!” his mother said over and over.
Rory apologized an equal amount of times. “I have to be taken to the hospital first and then to the police station,” he explained when she wanted to drive right over and pick him up. “They haven’t found the other boys yet. I hope they’re okay,” he said truthfully. The farther away from the woods he got, the more everything seemed unreal to Rory. He promised to call her when he was on his way to the hospital.
“You interview him yet?” Cid asked quietly.
“Can’t. He’s a minor, and we don’t have an advocate handy. There are two deaths here. I can’t afford to make a mistake procedurally.”
Cid nodded.
“If he opens up to you, you can’t tell me what he says,” Ryan stressed.
“I understand. Don’t worry, whatever the kid talks about will stay in the trailer,” he promised. He knew he could keep his promise, as his gossipy best friend was out roaming the woods.
“This is a tri-com link,” Ted explained to Tom. “It’s similar to what we used in the asylum. The only difference is that we can only communicate with each other. I’m basically carrying the receiver. With these trees, we will only have a hundred to two hundred yard radius around me. Fortunately, it seems by the three sets of tracks, we are all moving west. Mia, you’re going northwest, Tom southwest, me west-ish, which should increase our effective radius, bearing in mind, I don’t fall in a sinkhole. Then you’d be on your own.”
“Damn inconvenient,” Mia said, not meaning a word.
Tom watched the unspoken chemistry flow between the two investigators. He understood more than ever why Mia and Whit didn’t work out. She needed someone in her life that gave as much as she did. Whit wasn’t a bad guy, but he navigated in shallow narcissistic pools at times. Ted accepted Mia as she was, warts and all.
“This is Mia checking in. I’m broadcasting from the fallow field of some organic farmer that escaped to Florida in the winter of 1995 and never returned.”
“How do you know he was an organic farmer?” Tom asked as he skirted a large sinkhole.
“By the sign by the side of the drive that says, ‘The shit’s plowed here,’” Mia answered.
“You’re by a road?”
“Looks like a private one, but it’s an east-wester,” she replied. “Unfortunately, the light’s about gone, and I can’t see farther than my flashlight.”
“Hold on,” Tom said and turned off his link.
“Holding on, hey… BRB,” Mia said.
Ted, who had lost the middle trail and was backtracking, stood nervously waiting until Tom and Mia got back on com.
Tom spoke, “Ryan says that the road dead ends at Henry’s hog palace, a long defunct hog raising facility. That’s why the plethora of shit, Mia. No organic farms in this area.”
“Well you have it, ladies and gentlemen, Mia Cooper, long celebrated for her gifts and instincts, got one wrong,” Ted said in his checkered-suited announcer’s voice.
“K. I acknowledge my error. Sorry for being off com, but I found myself being the middle float in the harvest parade. First we have Murphy who is tracking what he tells me are two boys - I’ve got money on the Smithes if anyone wants to bet me. And secondly, following me are three French men. They don’t speak a bit of English. Murphy has already threatened an overly fresh one with his axe.”
“I take it you don’t speak French,” Tom said.
“Nope, barely have a handle on English, as Cid has mentioned a time or six.”
“I speak it,” Ted said proudly.
“And you’re not here. I’m just going to ignore the frogs…”
“Mia Cooper!” Ted admonished.
“Sorry, Murphy’s been talking about frogs since they showed up,” she explained. “I’ll let the lovely men dressed in animal hides, carrying long sharp knives, follow me around until we meet again, dear one.”
Tom laughed in spite of the tri-com link. “Mia, which way are they headed?”
“Murphy says west.”
“Why don’t you see if you can work your way to
Ted. I’ll have Ryan send some patrol cars and see if the boys are on the road between there and Big Bear Lake.”
“Hey Murph… We have a new mission.” Tom and Ted listened while she explained it to him. “K, heading to rendezvous with Ted. Maybe we can flush out the fucker between us.”
Tom moved slowly, stopping every few steps to listen. It was pitch dark. The ever increasing clouds blocked any moon or starlight that may have aided him. He felt sorry for Rory, who’d had to spend a night in this place. This forest really was lethal. Between the sinkholes, quicksand and mud-bogs, there was wild wilderness, a place where the forest was left to thrive. If it weren’t for the occasional clear track, Tom would have called it quits and joined Ted on the other trail.
“Help,” a hoarse voice called out.
“This is Deputy Tom Braverman,” he announced. “I’m trying to locate…”
“Here! This way.”
“I request you come out with your hands up,” Tom said, approaching a clearing surrounded with low shrubs.
“Officer, my hands are up, but I can’t come out,” the hoarse voice answered.
“Who am I talking to?” Tom said, inching his way forward, pulling his side arm and clicking off the safety.
“Ethan Aldridge. I’m unarmed and stuck in quicksand.”
Tom put the safety on and holstered his weapon. He moved forward, stopping at the break between the witch hazel hedges. He directed his light forward and lowered it until it skimmed the top of the sandy ground. There, fifteen feet out, was a head with two arms that seemed to be floating on top of the moving sand.
Ethan’s head was angled back so that he could still speak. He had barely a few inches before he would suffocate in the sand. “In my pack, there’s some rope. When I was in trouble, I tied it to the pack and tried to toss it over the limb of the big tree over by you. I misjudged not only my strength, but like an idiot, didn’t tie the rope to my wrist. The pack sailed into the bushes, and that’s the end of that,” Ethan said.
Tom directed his light into the bushes and soon was rewarded with the lumimous light from the reflector tape Ethan had put on the back of the pack spelling out his favorite salutation, F U.
