by E H Night
The air was cool and refreshing against her skin and inside of her lungs. She had felt so clammy the entire day, so even the harsh breeze felt nice as it moved across her face. Her warm scarf of long red hair caught the light here and there, causing her to resemble an ember that had just escaped from a nearby fireplace. She fluttered across the sidewalk, allowing the wind to choose the path that she would take.
One block, two blocks, three, and four — She had eventually lost count of how far she’d gone and how much time had actually passed. All that mattered was she was finally feeling more relaxed, and the stress of the day had seemingly brushed itself out of her mind. She looked ahead and realized that she was getting close to the local fishing lake, and a childlike burst of curiosity filled her joints. She started to walk faster and faster until she approached the rickety fence that blocked the rest of the path that led down to the water.
“When has a fence ever stopped me before?” she asked herself with amusement. “It’ll be fine. It’s not like I’m going swimming in there or anything. At least, not tonight anyway.” She looked around at the woods. The tall trees and wiry brush encompassed the entirety of the lake, gripping it protectively like a dog’s teeth around a brand new tennis ball. This was Wintersburg’s hidden gem — a beautiful sparkling morsel of freedom from the mundane. It was a place of first kisses, first cigarettes, and first beers; it was a place of irreplaceable memories.
She spotted something that appeared to be a little man-made trail off in the distance. At least from where she was standing, it seemed promising enough. Rather than risking a few unneeded rusty scrapes, Tiffany decided to see where the clearing would lead her instead of climbing the fence. After all, she wasn’t on this walk to get into trouble or to contract something like tetanus from the rust. She just wanted to ease her mind and to take in the beauty of nature. Surely, there couldn’t have been a better opportunity to do so than this one.
She turned to the left and headed down the pathway, ducking carefully below the thin branches that poked out from either side. Sticks, moss, and overgrown grass helped her to maintain a slow and careful pace for the most part. She paused briefly to reach into her bag and grabbed the flashlight. The trees’ branches weren’t allowing for much moonlight to trickle through, and she was struggling to see where she was actually stepping. As she pressed the button upward, the flashlight kicked on and illuminated everything in front of her. It became very apparent that no one had walked through the pathway in several months, or possibly even longer. She admired the untouched purity of nature for a moment and then ventured deeper and deeper. About thirty feet ahead of her, there seemed to be an open area. She carefully navigated the rest of descending path.
When Tiffany reached the clearing, she realized that there was nothing more to it than that. It was just a boring clearing at the bottom of a long sloping trail. It wasn’t anything to write home about, that’s for sure. She turned her flashlight off and looked around at the slightly moon-lit branches. They encircled her much like the rest of the forest had encircled the lake, and she suddenly felt safe in the arms of Mother Nature. Her eyes wandered all over, until she began admiring the small patch of flowers off in the distance. She walked toward them, no longer paying attention to where she was stepping.
“Flowers!” she thought. “It’s not even warm out yet. How could there be flowers out here already?” Her excitement grew like weeds with each step, bringing her closer and closer to the prize. She was determined to pick a few to take home and put into a pretty vase. She thought that maybe, if there were enough, she could even bring some back for her new neighbor, Alice. As she crept closer, she considered that both houses could benefit from some liveliness. While she expected to be able to smell something sweet, she was expecting the scent to be more floral, and not the sickly sweet stench that was commonly associated with decay.
“It smells like something died out here,” she thought before she instinctively wiped her nose onto her sleeve. The odor was almost too much for her to handle.
From clear air to peppered skies, small corpse flies started to smack into her face. She swatted them away here and there, but they only grew thicker as she kept walking forward. They crawled through her hair and perched themselves onto the edges of her ears, buzzing angrily with hungry bellies. She frantically smacked herself in the face and all over her head repeatedly, trying desperately to scare the flies away. They were determined to find something edible on, or even inside of her.
“Stupid gnats! Go away —” she shrieked, before crouching down and spitting all over her mouth. She barely even bothered to make an attempt to wipe the twitching wing-filled drool off of her chin as she continued to flail feverishly. The corpse flies climbed the coppery fuzz in her nose like ropes, trying desperately to find any sort of entrance inside of her body. She snorted and sneezed them out while continuing to smack the air and herself. “Leave me alone!” she yelled, earning herself another seedy mouthful of the insects. They buzzed against her tongue and gums, mimicking the fizzing sensation of one of her favorite candies — Pop Rocks.
When she tried to escape the area, one of her feet became wedged inside the exposed root of a tree, and she tripped, leaving the shoe behind. She fell forward into the twig-littered dirt, which caused her to land awkwardly onto her wrist, slightly injuring it. The pain shot up through the bones in her forearm, and she cried out, earning yet another unwanted mouthful of hungry flies. They continued to pester her, speeding across her cheeks and into her eyes like pin-sized darts. She curled up into a ball, placed her hands behind her head, her face onto her knees, and sobbed. She felt hopeless. Her cries echoed out powerfully, but were quickly pushed back into the clearing by the tall trees that stood all around, watching the scene from above coldly and menacingly.
In a sudden moment of clarity, she grabbed the flashlight from her bag again. With one hand, she turned it on, and tossed it into the distance. In what seemed like only seconds, the flies started to scatter away, and they headed off toward the intriguing new light source. Though a few still lingered behind to lick the salty sweat and tears from her face and neck, Tiffany was able to see again. She sat upright and ran her fingers through her hair while trying to comb away the dirt and debris. As soon as her breathing calmed, she looked around for her missing shoe.
The flashlight in the distance provided a little more light to the surrounding area, and she was able to spot her canvas slipper sticking out from the tree root only a few feet away. She crawled toward it, reached forward, and let out a shriek that could have pierced the ears of any living creature near the lake that night. She fell sideways and realized that she hadn’t been crawling over roots and branches at all. Rested confidently against her leg, a hand was protruding from the ground, with only enough flesh remaining to keep the bones in place. Its bare fingertips scraped and tickled against her ankle as she pulled away in horror. In front of her, the stained white shoe reflected the light as it rested securely inside the bend of a partially buried leg.
Chapter 3
“Cheers”
The sun woke Alice earlier than usual. Its rays skipped across her pores and danced along her faint smile lines for a while before it finally decided to settle itself warmly upon her long dark lashes. She opened her eyes in protest and let out a brief exaggerated yawn before turning to place her feet neatly into a pair of purple fluffy house slippers. The slippers had been gifted to her by her grandmother in December after they’d gone to see the Purple People Eater movie together. Having not known that it was supposed to be a children’s movie upon arrival, they still managed to enjoy themselves. The movie had become a little bit of a joke between them from then on.
Alice sat still for a moment and found herself missing her grandmother while she stared down at the purple fluff. She’d not yet taken the time to mourn or reminisce since the cremation, and emotions were building up inside of her more and more with each passing day. Her eyes wandered across the room before they stopped to fi
xate on the short white vase that had been resting peacefully upon the vanity.
“Oh, Gram,” she thought. “We’re finally in Wintersburg together. If you only knew...” A small hot tear fell from one of her eyes and left a mark upon her satin pant leg. It spread like wet invisible ink across the fabric. One tear turned into two tears, and two turned into too many more to count. She broke her gaze with the urn and tilted her head to the face the sun-filled window. “I just — I just wish I could talk with you again,” she whispered painfully, with her strained breath hissing like a tea kettle. “Why’d you have to leave me, too? Why does everyone always end up leaving me?” Alice’s throat tightened, choking away any more potential for speech. She looked down at her slippers once more, and brought her feet up from the floor and into the bed. Her knees made their way to her chest as she laid herself down onto her side. In no time at all, the pillowcase became a makeshift handkerchief, and the mattress supported her weight safely like her grandmother’s lap once had. She rocked back and forth slowly, imagining the rhythm of the old wooden rocking chair, until she could hear the wood creaking all around. The creaking turned into thuds.
Knock Knock Knock Knock
Alice jolted upward and out of bed. Her ears rang for a second, and her vision became snowy like the improperly connected television in the living room. She took a brief moment to recover from standing too quickly and grabbed a wad of tissues from her night stand to wipe her face. She and her furry slippers scurried away anxiously into the living room and then headed toward the front door. When she arrived, she could tell that someone was pacing back and forth across the porch, and she could hear the wood groaning angrily beneath their heavy shoes. She crept toward the window and peaked out of it carefully from behind the dusty blinds.
“What the — is that a cop?” she thought as she opened the curtain a little more to get a better, but much less discreet view of the man. “What on earth could he want?” She closed the curtain and wiped her nose and eyes once more onto the sleeve of her night shirt before reaching for the door handle. As she turned the knob, she inhaled deeply to calm her heart and compose herself a little more. When the door opened, the man stopped pacing and turned to face her.
“Good morning, miss. Sorry to bother you so early, but due to some, uh, recent events, I took it upon myself to give you a little visit.” He extended a hand toward Alice. “I’m Detective Blake Darrow from the Wintersburg police station,” he continued speaking. “Your name is Alice, correct?”
Alice nodded and returned his hand shake. “That’s right. Alice Foster. I just moved here yesterday, actually —”
“I know,” he interrupted. “That’s one of the reasons I came out to see you. We don’t get a lot of new people moving into this town, so I wanted to meet with you personally to discuss a few things. Places like this are filled with rumors, and I just thought I’d take it upon myself to give you some facts before the folks tried to scare you off with their nonsense.”
“I understand. That’s actually really considerate. Would you like to come inside or something? The house is still a mess from all of the moving, but you’re welcome to sit and have some coffee.” She stepped aside and motioned behind her.
“That’d be nice, thank you,” the detective said as he stepped forward. “And don’t worry about the mess. I’m sure I’ve seen much worse.”
The pair walked through the living room and into the kitchen. The detective sat down in one of the stools by the counter and fiddled with his badge. Alice walked around to the other side and rummaged through the items that Tiffany had brought over the day before.
“The neighbor gave me a few things yesterday. It looks like the only option for coffee is Colombian roast. Is that okay with you?” she asked, politely. She opened the tin anyway, expecting him to accept the offer.
“Yeah, Colombian is fine. Actually, I’d like to discuss your neighbor first since we’re already on the subject.” He cleared his throat and ran a hand uncomfortably through his short dark hair.”
Alice paused and stared at the detective anxiously before responding. “Um, she’s not a criminal, is she?”
“No, no. It’s nothing like that,” he said, waving his hands back and forth in the air. “You see, it’s just that, well, I’m sure you’ve noticed the posters of the missing women around town, right?”
“Yeah, I saw one at Medley’s yesterday,” she replied while scooping the coffee into the filter. She wondered where he was planning on going with the conversation.
“Well, we believe that we might have found one of the women.”
Alice gasped. “Really? Are they okay, or...” her voice trailed off as she imagined the possibilities.
Detective Darrow shook his head and looked up at her. “Your neighbor, Tiffany, found a body last night.” He cleared his throat. “She had been walking in the woods near the lake and stumbled upon a pretty messed up scene. From the clothing we found, the woman seems to match the description of Jessica Roberts, the first person to have turned up missing in the past few years. We’re still waiting on confirmation from her family, but we’re pretty sure it’s her.”
Alice stood still, completely shocked, and then measured out some water from the faucet to pour into the coffee pot. As she poured it in, she tried to think of a proper response, but her mind went wild with all of the possible imagery. The coffee finally dripped and began filling the pot, so she reached for two clean mugs. She moved the pot out of the way and let the coffee stream directly into one of them.
“But,” he began again, breaking the silence. “Tiffany, though, she’s going to need a friend right now. Since you’re her neighbor, I was hoping that you could check on her every now and then. I don’t know how well she’s going to handle what happened, and her parents don’t live nearby from what I’ve been told. I’m not sure if she really had too many people around to check in with her, at least not in person.”
“Yeah, of course. I’ll go over and visit her soon. Did she see much, or...”
Detective Darrow nodded and looked down at the counter-top. “She saw more than she needed to see. We took her to the hospital, but they discharged her this morning. I’m pretty sure she’ll be okay, but I just think she might need someone to talk to. Someone other than a doctor or a cop.”
Alice nodded, filled the second cup, and placed them both down on the counter. “Would you like some creamer?” she asked, trying to maintain an appearance of calmness.
“No, thank you. I’ll take it how it is,” he replied.
They sipped their hot drinks in silence for a moment. Alice’s mind wandered again, taking her through the various possibilities of what could have happened to Jessica.“Was she murdered? Was it an accident? Who could have buried her? Did she die out there, or was she dragged into the woods from somewhere else?” Questions flooded her mind as she stared in the distance at nothing in particular.
“I guess there isn’t really much more to discuss,” Detective Darrow said, interrupting Alice’s thoughts. “I live just down the street if you ever need anything.”
“Oh! That’s why you looked so familiar. Weren’t you walking home from Medley’s yesterday, too? I think I saw you behind me.”
Detective Darrow’s face brightened a bit from her words. “Yeah, that was me. And, sorry about that. I was in a hurry and didn’t have the time to properly introduce myself.”
Alice let out a small chuckle to try to brighten the mood. “You scared the living daylights out of me, you know. I was just trying to get home and then some strange man came out of nowhere and started running after me. It was terrifying.”
Detective Darrow rubbed his eyes as if he were hiding from embarrassment. “I guess I owe you a better apology then. How about this — you can have my personal number. That way, if you feel scared or uncomfortable, but don’t think it’s a matter for 9-1-1, you can just call me and I can come check on things for you.”
A small smile formed on Alice’s lips and stayed there whi
le she gathered a pen and scrap piece of paper. “Wow. Such a prize,” she said sarcastically, but still amused. “Here, you can use this,” she said, sliding the items in front of him.
He picked up the pen and clicked it a few times. “I have my own, but I guess this one’s just as good,” he stated while writing down his phone number, and only his first name below it.
“Blake,” Alice said aloud after she picked up the paper to examine it. “I can call you that? Just Blake? You’re sure?”
He nodded and grinned. “Yes, but only when you’re calling this number.” He pointed directly to the paper in Alice’s hand. “If I’m on duty or in uniform, well, you know the drill. Everyone already thinks I’m too relaxed as it is.”
“I appreciate it,” she said before turning toward the refrigerator. “I’ll keep it there under the magnet. It won’t get lost that way.”
Detective Darrow stood up and dusted the imaginary dust from his clothes. “I’ve stayed a bit longer than I meant to, so I should probably get back to the station. Thanks for letting me talk to you in person and for being so hospitable. Even though we all know each other around here, you’d be surprised to hear about how few people would actually invite a cop inside for coffee,” he said, with both amusement and uneasiness in his voice. “Anyway, I meant what I said though. If you’re ever uncomfortable, just give me a call.”