“Grady, you little shit,” he muttered. “Even you didn’t deserve this.”
He opened a gas canister and poured a small amount on the backpack watching it soak into the papers and fabric. Not only was Jin right about this, he was also right about not letting this get into the wrong hands. That simply couldn’t happen. Burke proceeded to make a trail in the directions where the other bodies hung in the trees. He stood for a moment and watched the trees sway in the wind. Having assessed the wind’s direction being in his favor, he backtracked making a trail with the rest of the gasoline in the first canister. Burke discarded the empty jug and fetched the second one. With this one he made a trail to where the rabbit hung in the tree. He assumed this was the farthest he had seen any of the evidence of the unexplainable mould before him. While in the process of making a line of fuel, he heard a rustling sound in the brush behind him.
Panic set in as he saw a large deformed rat emerging from the brush. It was the size of a raccoon. He set down the can and pulled the tire iron from his belt. Behind the large rat, he saw more movement of what looked like another of its kind, whatever it was. Burke fiddled with his large plastic framed glasses, unaware of the fate they had saved him from. The large raccoon-sized rat rose up on its hind quarters and sniffed at the air, its thick tail curled up behind it.
“Whatever the fuck you are, you smell the gas, don’t you?” Burke said while clutching the tire iron like a weapon. While not taking his eyes off the creature, he took the remaining canister and continued pouring a line of fuel in front of the area where the bodies hung in the trees.
One of the deformed rats burst from the brush and ran past Burke, through the line of fuel he had just poured. A deafening, screeching sound coming from behind startled him. Burke turned and saw one of the rat things sitting on a tree branch above the dead rabbit. He turned and saw the first rat thing that had emerged from the brush now rush past him. He panicked and flung the tire iron at the rat and missed. The large rat continued towards the area where the bodies hung, completely bypassing Burke.
Burke frantically patted his pockets, found his Zippo, pulled it out and looked at it.
“Fuck it,” he exclaimed as he lit the Zippo and tossed it into the fuel. There was a loud WHOOSH sound and the flames raced down the trail of gasoline he had poured. In mere moments, he stood watching flames as they consumed the dry forest debris, feeding a fire that grew by the second. Burke heard another screeching sound coming from the trees behind the fire line. One of the large rat things was on fire, flames spouting from its matted fur. He saw it scurry and climb a tree the way a cat tries to outrun pain.
“Burn, you fuck!” Burke said as he watched the wind spread the fire faster than he assumed it would. The wind blew the flames towards the dangling bodies, reaching them quickly, setting them ablaze along with the trees. Burke watched as Grady Foster’s body fell from the tree as it burned. It hit the ground in a loud thump and splat as the body’s liquefied insides spread out when it hit the forest floor. That was enough for the former detective. He had seen enough, he thought as he turned and began walking back the way he had come.
Chapter 27
The Oakwood Chronicler
July 26th
INVESTIGATORS CONFIRM FOREST FIRE AS ARSON.
By Nicole Banford
On July 23rd, local Oakwood Island volunteer firefighters responded to a forest fire off Ocean’s Edge Road on the northern part of Oakwood Island. With the help of sudden hard rain that wasn’t in the forecast, and the Bayview Fire Department, they managed to contain the blaze for a full day before the fire reached the edge of the cliffs and ran out of fuel. The only buildings consumed by the fire were on the property of Michael and Tracy Stuart, the former home of the late Robert and Nancy Stuart.
Later that day, former Bayview Detective George Burke, who was on sick leave and not on active duty, was arrested for setting the fire. What was believed to be a simple case of arson took a gruesome turn when the remains of seventeen people were discovered in the section of the burnt forest. Police are now saying that the fire was deliberately set in an attempt to destroy evidence of these grisly murders. Sources say the victims were gutted; their entrails left in piles near the bodies which had been dumped on the ground.
Local residents are now calling the former detective The Disemboweler. Formal charges of murder, arson, and tampering with evidence are expected to be filed later in the week. Burke is being held at the Daye Psychiatric Ward of the Oakwood Island Hospital for assessment.
James Hughes, police chief at the Oakwood Island police department has only released some of the names of the victims: Bradley Cornwell, age 15, Grady Foster, age 17, Tracy Stuart, age 32, Jin Hong, age 38, and Peggy Martin, age 67. The remaining victim’s names will be released once relatives have been notified.
Nicole Banford is a staff reporter for The Oakwood Chronicler and can be reached at [email protected]
FAMOUS TWINS RETURNED HOME SAFE AND SOUND.
By Timothy Banford
On July 23rd, while a fire was being set off at Ocean’s Edge Road, Scott Cudmore searched frantically for his famous twin wards whom had been abducted by Oakwood Island resident Jack Whitefeather.
The reasons are still under investigation, but while another ward of the Cudmore household, Bradley Cornwell, was falling victim to the Disemboweler, Jack Whitefeather abducted foster twins Patrick and Lily Jones at gunpoint. Sources say the abduction took place while Scott Cudmore was off trying to find Bradley Cornwell whom had possibly been abducted minutes earlier by the Disemboweler. While police searched for Jack Whitefeather and the twins, it was Scott Cudmore who successfully found them at Dead Man’s Cliff. The fire set by former Detective George Burke also burned the body of Jack Whitefeather, consuming the area where he had taken the children. An investigation is underway to find more answers.
Timothy Banford is a staff reporter for The Oakwood Chronicler and can be reached at [email protected]
Chapter 28
Burning Confessions
July 26th
Scott sat on the floor of a room in the Daye Psychiatric Wing of the Oakwood Island Hospital. The room was quiet except for the occasional sounds the kids made while playing nearby. He folded up the Oakwood Chronicler he had been reading and glanced at his wife through heavy and tired eyes. Miriam was seated on an orange plastic chair on the opposite side of the room. She sat near Patrick, who played with simple wooden blocks on the coffee table and Lily played with a Barbie doll. Scott knew Miriam worried about him as he hadn’t slept well since the day of the abduction. The same day Bradley had been murdered. He had been plagued with nightmares of Jack stabbing the children with a bone, over and over. He would wake screaming in terror every time he tried to sleep.
Lily sat in a green plastic chair in front of Monique Richardson.
“Like my dolly?” Lily asked Monique as she stroked the perfectly coiffed hair of the doll. “Her name is Bessie. She wears lots of pretty clothes. She has a blue dress, a red dress and some blue pants too,” Lily continued with a nod and a smile as she stroked the yellow flower print dress the doll was currently wearing.
“She’s pretty,” Monique replied as she wondered why Lily wasn’t tearing this doll apart like she used to. “But why did you call her Bessie?” she asked as she glanced at Scott but watched Lily carefully.
“I don’t know. Patrick said I should call her that,” Lily replied with a shrug.
“Patrick? Where did you hear that name, Bessie?” Monique inquired.
“Bessie, like the woman who used to come see me at night when Mommy and Daddy were asleep,” Patrick replied as he carefully stacked bigger blocks on top of smaller blocks by feeling them one at a time. “But she doesn’t come anymore. Not since we went for a drive with Jack.”
Scott wiped away a tear as he listened, while Miriam, who was tougher emotion
ally than Scott, watched her husband more than the kids.
“Patrick, why do you think Bessie doesn’t come see you anymore?” Monique asked as her gaze went back and forth between the children.
“I don’t know,” Patrick replied as he tore down the stacks of blocks he had made. “Jack smelled funny,” Patrick added. “He smelled like when we go camping and we make a fire to make s’mores. He smelled before he died, but he doesn’t smell like that anymore.”
Scott was clearly bothered by this statement. They had found the body right where it had lain when Jack died. Although when they found it, he was badly burned, and crows had pecked at the remains. Scott had insisted on seeing the body, had gone down to the morgue and got into an argument with hospital staff that refused to let him see the body. He had wanted to see the body in hopes that it would stop the dreams. Sadly, seeing the body, or rather what was left of it, hadn’t helped him sleep any better.
“Can we go home now?” Lily asked. “Bessie is tired and wants to nap,” Lily added as she gently stroked her doll’s hair.
“Sure,” Monique replied. “But I’d like to come visit you soon. Would you like that?”
Lily nodded and smiled.
“Sure,” Patrick said. “If it’s ok with Mommy and Daddy.”
Monique watched the children through the open door of the quiet room as she spoke to Miriam and Scott.
“Children often have strange ways of dealing with trauma,” Monique said. “But Lily seems more than fine. I remember when I saw her last time; she was so quiet, hardly ever spoke and never smiled. It’s as if all this has done her good, both of them actually. Patrick seems much less anxious now than before. He used to never want to leave his sister’s side. Now he doesn’t seem to need her as much. I’m thinking maybe he doesn’t feel she needs him as much now that she’s better. It’s too soon to tell, but I’d like to come see them at home. See how they are at home too, if that’s ok with you.”
“Of course,” Scott replied. “That would be great.”
“Bradly’s death must have been hard on Samantha, even if she’s trying not to show it. Being brave for the other kids and all so I’d really like to see Samantha and all the boys. I want to see how they’re all doing and how they’re dealing with all this.”
“I’d like that,” Miriam replied as she glanced at Scott, hinting that she would like Monique to speak to him as well.
“Maybe the whole family can see me,” Monique replied, picking up on Miriam’s subtle clues. “It would do you all good to talk about it,” she said while looking directly at Scott.
“That would be great,” Scott replied, clearly exhausted. “Thank you.”
Just down the hall from where the Cudmores were meeting with their psychiatrist, a patient was tucked away. He had been placed at the end of the long hallway, ironically in the very room where Norah Jenkins had once spent many hours staring in the distance. The patient that had taken over her room was on edge ever since he had been admitted. The nurses had predicted that this patient would be in their care for as long as, if not longer than Norah had.
The air in former Detective Burke’s room at the Daye Psychiatric Ward was warm. It seemed cruel to him that he couldn’t even remove his own blanket to cool himself, as he was restrained to his bed at the ankles and wrists. He had left them no choice but to restrain him when he had yet another outburst clawing at his own face and neck, scratching himself bloody.
“I burned it, Jin. I burned it all,” Burke yelled, his voice echoing in the small room. “I burned it, Jin. I BURNED IT!” Burke shouted until he choked on his dry throat, coughing until he caught his breath. He pulled and tugged at the restraints, trying to move, but failed.
“I told them I did it. I told them I killed them all, Jin. So they wouldn’t look for it, Jin.”
Burke struggled against his bonds more, making himself even warmer, sweat beading on his forehead, his face turning a bright shade of red.
“I told them it was me. I told them I killed them, Jin. I told them I killed them. So they wouldn’t find it and so they won’t know our secret. I killed them all and then burned them so our secret stays safe and so nobody knows. I KILLED THEM ALL!”
Burke’s voice echoed as a nurse rushed in, syringe in hand, ready to quiet down their most recent arrival.
Chapter 29
The Awakening
July 26th
Shelley served up the day’s lunch special; fried bologna, scalloped potatoes and a side of mixed vegetables. She placed the plates before a smiling elderly couple who came for the lunch specials as often as they could.
The restaurant was filled with most of the usual crowd of regulars. Shelley rushed behind the counter, scooped up two readied plates, and left four more paper orders for the day’s special to the cook. She brought the plates to Gertrude Dawson who sat by the front windows with her friend Cindy. “Did you hear about Norah?” Gertrude asked as she grabbed Shelley’s hand before she could walk away.
“Hear what?” Shelley asked, her curiosity for gossip getting the better of her, more than she would ever admit.
Gertrude looked at Cindy as if to tell her it was her turn to speak, as if to say she should be the one to tell Shelley. Especially since Cindy worked at the hospital, as if it would add validation to the rumors.
“They said when she died…she had water in her lungs,” Cindy said, bringing her voice down so not too many people could hear.
“I heard she had pneumonia. That’s what killed her,” Shelley replied, feeling somewhat miffed that she hadn’t heard these rumors until now. “Well, what I heard is that it wasn’t just ordinary water,” Cindy paused, drawing out the tension, and the attention on her. “It was sea water.” She said it in a way that was supposed to amaze Shelley.
“Yeah right!” Shelley replied with a smile. “Sea water… in her lungs. She was on the second floor of the hospital, far away from any sea water.” Shelley laughed and walked away, getting back to work. She gathered two more readied plates, plopping one on the counter before Doctor Kingsley who was sipping coffee.
“Hey, Doc. That stuff’s not good for you,” Officer Brent Bartlet said with a smile from the table he shared with officers Paul Malloy and Patricia Clifford. They always took the same table near the counter.
Shelley placed a plate in front of Reverend Masterson who set his copy of The Oakwood Chronicler down and smiled at her. She picked up the empty plate in front of Father Thompson who sat across from the Reverend. The good Father smiled and winked at her as he picked his teeth with a toothpick.
“Delicious as usual,” Father Thompson said.
“Thank you,” Reverend Masterson said to Shelley as he picked up his fork while Father Thompson took the newspaper from the table.
“Do you mind if I…” he asked but hadn’t waited for a reply as he flipped the paper to the front page.
“Help yourself,” Reverend Masterson replied as he cut into the fried bologna.
“What a tragedy,” Father Thompson muttered as he read that day’s front page articles.
“He was here, you know,” Shelley said as she stood by the table holding Father Thompson’s empty plate.
“Who?” the Reverend asked.
“Detective Burke,” Shelley replied, using his title out of habit. “He was here almost every day.”
“There was no way to know,” Father Thompson interjected. “Evil hides in plain sight and we just don’t see it.”
“Amen to that,” the Reverend added.
“He hated Grady,” Shelley added. “I should have seen it, said something. He called him idiot all the time. He was just a kid,” Shelley added, wiping away a tear with her shoulder.
“It’s probably a good thing you didn’t say anything,” Father Thompson replied, which got a strange look from Reverend Masterson. “Who knows what would have happened if you did.
”
“Father Thompson!” Reverend Masterson said in an attempt to scold the good father.
“He might have killed you too,” Father Thompson continued.
Shelley walked away, bringing the dirty dishes back behind the counter.
“I heard you had quite the crowd for breakfast this morning,” Doctor Kingsley inquired.
“Yeah,” Shelley replied. “I had a ton of reporters asking questions.”
“Reporters?” Officer Patricia Clifford piped in inquisitively.
“Big newspaper and television reporters looking to do stories on the Disemboweler murders,” Shelley said to whomever was listening, which was most everyone. “They also asked a lot about Jack and the twins; about Patrick, the boy born with no eyes.”
“A bunch of them were out on Edge this morning,” Gertrude added, referring to Ocean’s Edge Road. It was obvious she was referring to the reporters.
Shelley grabbed a rectangular plastic tub she used to clear tables with. “They asked a lot of questions about Jack,” She added while collecting dishes off the counter.
“He was a quiet man,” Doctor Kingsley replied with sarcasm. “Isn’t that what they all say when someone snaps and loses their mind and murders a bunch of people?”
The Awakening Page 19