The Answers Are In The Forest

by Katie Kaleski

  “Holy shit, Creed tried to save this kid. This is who he must’ve been talking about all along.” Rusck let out a shaky breath.

  Last was Sophie, an eighth-grader from Hillard who was reported as having run away on October 22, 2008. Her parents’ statement was, “She was always troubled. We knew it would one day come to this.” If her parents only knew what actually happened.

  “Timothy doesn’t follow the pattern. The few we know about have an eight in the year. Like maybe it’s ten, twenty years apart for each one, but this one is 2017.”

  “Maybe someone else?”

  “I don’t know.” I blew raspberries with my lips and ran a hand through my hair.

  “How about we go try to find out about Donna?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The two of us waited until the guy at the front security desk was distracted, talking to a teacher, and we bolted out the front doors.

  “I only have my bike,” I said, glancing at the school parking lot.

  “I walked to school, and my mom uses the car during the day, but we can go get my bike. We’ll get there a lot faster.”

  “Let’s go.” We jogged over to the bike racks, getting my bike, then headed down the front walkway, peering over our shoulders. No one came running after us, so when we hit the sidewalk along the road, we slowed down.

  “Okay, we know of five murdered kids from central to southern Illinois area,” I said, pushing my bike as we walked. “The ones we know of seem to have been taken on the decade of years ending in eight. So we have a few missing years, ’68, ’78, and ’88. Those are the years Jacob and Liesel could’ve gone missing, but we’re still short a kid.”

  “Maybe they forgot the name of one,” Rusck said, shoving his hands in his pockets as we walked.

  “Could be.”

  “How come nobody noticed some sort of pattern? The police or FBI?” I asked.

  “That’s a good question. We picked it up without much digging,” Rusck said as we turned a corner and headed down the block toward his house.

  “But we did have some help from beyond the grave on that one.”

  “True.”

  “Sophie. Maybe she broke it up because her parents said she ran away. Nobody probably put too much effort into looking for her, and the one missing kid that’s fresh in everybody’s mind is Kevin. So, if you don’t know the backstory, you probably wouldn’t see a pattern.”

  “That makes sense, I guess. Maybe the police or FBI have noticed, and we just don’t know.”

  “Could be,” I said.

  We walked the rest of the way, lost in our own heads.

  “Good,” Rusck said as we approached his house. “My mom isn’t home.”

  “I thought you said she took the car.”

  “She does, but she’s in and out sometimes. Always coming back to check on Creed.”

  “We better hurry up and grab your bike, then.” I looked around at his neighborhood and down the street, checking for anyone coming in our direction, seeing if his mom would show up and ruin our plans.

  “Creed,” Rusck said. “He’s home.” He jogged up to the front door and pulled out his keys.

  “Didn’t the last time kind of upset him?” I asked, touching Rusck’s forearm before he unlocked the door.

  “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s just pop in really quick since we’re here.” He headed straight upstairs. “He has to know something. Finding out all that stuff, what he really went through. Timothy. I have to try. I want to help him as much as those other kids,” he whispered, standing outside Creed’s bedroom door.

  “He did call you Bunny Boy and told me to listen to the rabbits.”

  “Exactly.” Rusck knocked on his brother’s door and opened it a crack.

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” Creed yelled.

  Rusck opened the door all the way, and Creed sat at his desk with a hand on his chest.

  “Sorry,” Rusck said, grimacing.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” Creed cocked his head to the side.

  “We’re doing some research.”

  “Mom is going to be pissed. You know the school will call.”

  “I’m sure, but this is important. It’s about the rabbits, and you too.”

  Creed took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  Rusck squatted in front of his brother and put his hands on his knees. “I know you don’t remember the rabbits, but you remember the body. The body of a kid.”

  Creed’s eyes went wide, and he inhaled sharply.

  “You were right. He was ten, and his name was Timothy.”

  “What?” Creed slid his glasses back on and swiped his hand over his mouth.

  “Yeah, and you tried to help him.”

  “How do you know this?” Creed asked softly.

  “The rabbits. It’s a long story, but can you think of anything else? How did you get in that house? What the man looked like? Anything.”

  Creed closed his eyes and licked his lips. “He wouldn’t stop crying, but that’s not why they killed him.”

  “Do you know how?”

  Creed shook his head, and tears began to roll down his face. “He’s going to do it again.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Jacob said so.”

  My body shook as a shiver went down my spine.

  “What else did Jacob say?” Rusck asked, looking up at his brother.

  Creed straightened his back and looked forward. He smiled and in a monotone voice said, “Bunny.”

  Rusck winced and blew out a shaky breath.

  “The answers are in the forest,” Creed said.

  Rusck stood and crossed his arms over his chest. Creed blinked and craned his head up, looking at Rusck. “Jacob?” Rusck asked.

  “Before it’s too late,” Creed said, his voice flat.

  “How do we find him?”

  “The answers are in the forest.” Creed’s body relaxed, and he blinked.

  “Creed?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Creed’s eyes met mine. “Just checking. And Jacob?”

  “Doesn’t have much energy,” Creed said.

  “Whoa, Creed. Has he been with you this whole time?” Rusck asked.

  “Who?” Creed asked, scrunching up his nose.

  Rusck scratched his jaw. “Jacob.”

  “I only see the three of us here.”

  “How do you know about Jacob?”

  “I don’t know. I need to rest. I have to sleep.” Creed got up, ambled over to his bed, and crawled in, curling up in a ball with his eyelids drooping.

  “Creed,” Rusck whispered, but Creed didn’t respond. He had already fallen asleep.

  “Should we check the forest?” I asked as we walked back downstairs.

  “What the hell is going on? How does he know this stuff? Jacob. The forest.” Rusck put his hands over his face and let out a muffled scream.

  I put my hands on his shoulders. “What Kevin said, I think it’s true.”

  Rusck shook his head and stared at me.

  “And I think we also need to hurry up. It’s so close to the date.”

  Rusck sighed. “Nobody else is dying. Let’s go to the library first, and you said your house is rented from someone who said his dad owned it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We need to also find out who they are.”

  “After the library, we’ll go back to my house.”

  Rusck grabbed his mom’s bike, and we headed to the small downtown area.

  The building was a large limestone one complete with a turret and gothic inspired windows. We walked up the expansive cement steps that spanned the front of the library and inside to a world of books and knowledge that we hoped would help us out. We went to the front circulation desk and waited for a librarian.

  “What can I do you for?” a tall guy with a sweater vest and a smile asked, looking up from his computer.

  “Microfiche?” I asked.

  �
�Now we have online databases that are free to use. And access to local archived newspapers.”

  “Do they go back to 1958?”

  “Microfiche this way,” he said, waving over his shoulder. We followed him down some stairs into the basement of the library to a low-lit room with a bunch of machines that almost looked like computers and rows of brown cabinets with little drawers.

  “This stuff looks ancient.”

  “Some of it is, but it still works just fine,” the librarian said, going over to the cabinets. “Do you have a specific date in mind? You mentioned 1958.”

  “Around October twenty-second,” Rusck said.

  “All right, we can do that. You thinking any certain newspapers?”

  “Local and the surrounding towns. Central and southern Illinois.”

  “All righty.” He walked back and forth, scanning the tags on the little drawers of the cabinets. “Here we go.” He pulled out a few rolls and handed them to us. “If you need more, it’s all right here.” He waved to the cabinets he stood in front of. “Now, let me set you up with a machine.” He walked over to a row of microfiche machines, picked one, and showed us how to load the film and how to operate it. The machines looked like computers from the eighties with oversized monitors.

  When the librarian left, I took the machine next to Rusck and sat down, loading up a roll of microfiche.

  “This is making me seasick,” I said as the pages scrolled past, then scrolling a little too fast, so then I had to go back. “This might take forever.”

  “Keep your eyes out for a picture of a kid. That’s what I’m doing. And wait, hold on a second. I might have something.”

  “Where’s that newspaper from?” I asked, leaning over and glancing at his screen. “Bellamy.”

  “That must be far from here because I’ve never heard of it.”

  “I think it’s super south. Oh my god, look.” Rusck pointed at the screen with a shaky finger.

  My skin prickled, and I looked at the screen, where a picture of an adorable, smiling five-year-old looked out at us. She had dimpled cheeks, big eyes, and light brown hair pulled up into pigtails that had a slight curl at the end. She wore a yoke dress with a little rounded collar. The headline read

  Five-Year-Old Donna Andrews Missing.

  It was dated October 22, 1958. How could someone have murdered that sweet little girl in the picture? End her life so soon? She didn’t even make it to six years old. I sniffled back some tears. “It’s Donna,” I whispered.

  Rusck nodded, biting his lip.

  “She’s dead. Oh my god, she’s dead.”

  Rusck let out a deep breath. “This is so awful. All these years, everybody who knew her, no answers. Could you imagine?”

  “I don’t even want to.”

  We scanned the article, and it was the same as the others. She was abducted on the twenty-first. She went missing from the front porch of her house. She loved to play with her doll named La La and enjoyed learning to read. I reached over and clamped my hand onto Rusck’s forearm.

  “We should see if we can find the others, just to confirm the pattern,” Rusck said, covering my hand with his.

  “You think we should try to contact some of the relatives? People who knew these kids should still be alive.”

  “Maybe. Let’s find the others first.”

  We went up and got some rolls from 1968, 1978, and 1988.

  “Oh, Jesus,” I said after some scanning some. “I found Liesel. Nineteen eighty-eight. She disappeared from Bentley. So much blood was found at the abduction site they said there was no way she survived, and we know she didn’t.” We kept going and found Jacob too.

  “So that just leaves 1978, but we don’t have a name,” Rusck said, tugging on the collar of his t-shirt.

  “You okay? Is this too much?”

  “It’s a bit stuffy down here.”

  “You’re sweating.” I reached over and put my hand on his forehead. “Your forehead is warm. You’re getting sick. Maybe you should go home, and I’ll finish up.”

  “I’m fine. Probably just a cold or something.” He rolled his eyes up to my hand, which I still held against his forehead.

  “Okay, let’s pretend you’re fine,” I said, dropping my hand.

  “Let’s at least check out your landlord first.”

  “And the forest.”

  But before we left, we searched through October 1978 and came up emptyhanded.

  When we got to my house, Rusck and I first tore through all the kitchen drawers in hope of finding a lease or a piece of paper that had my landlord’s name. We had no luck. The only other option was looking in my mom’s room, so that was where we went. Turned out she had nothing but her bed and a plastic set of drawers containing a pathetic amount of clothing for any living human being.

  “Well, that turned out to be a waste of our time,” I said with my hands on my hips.

  Rusck rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe we’re chasing nothing. Maybe there’s nothing to any of this.”

  “Why would you say that? You know there is. You saw and heard yourself.”

  “Maybe it’s just this house, like a gas leak or something.”

  “You know that’s not true. You know there’s something to all of this. I know you’re scared and confused, and so am I, but we can’t give up because we hit a couple of dead ends.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. We have a forest to scour. Okay?” I said.

  “Okay,” he whispered.

  “We gotta get this done before the cavalry comes looking for you.”

  The two of us went out to the garage. Rusck still wore his school bag that he put on before we took off on our bikes, so he pulled it off and plopped it down in front of the garage. We then went in and dug around for a shovel. Luckily, the garage did not collapse on us, and we found a rusted iron shovel. Rusck carried the shovel on his shoulder, and we headed across the yard to the forest. My hand hesitated on top of the gate before we entered.

  “You think we’ll be digging?” Rusck asked.

  “Maybe,” I said, my hand still frozen on the gate. “What if we find something, someone?”

  “We’ll deal with it,” Rusck said, squeezing my shoulder.

  I nodded and opened the gate. It let out a loud, metallic moan as if warning us of what lay ahead. We started in the same direction in which I took my jog. The same direction the mysterious hooded person went also.

  “What should we be looking for, exactly?” Rusck asked while twigs and forest floor rubble crunched beneath his feet.

  “I don’t know, suspicious lumps, places where it looks like the earth has been moved, even though I’m sure they’d be grown over by now.”

  Rusck nodded, and we walked in silence for a bit. I made sure I surveyed every inch around me before we moved deeper into the forest. I looked between the trees, in hollowed-out fallen logs, and sifted through piles of muck made out of soil, twigs, and old rainwater.

  “Wait, what was that?” Rusck said, suddenly stopping, putting his arm out in front of me as if to offer some sort of protection.

  “It could be anything, rabbits, more rabbits.”

  “No, it sounded like footsteps from a person.”

  “Are you sure? I didn’t hear anything.”

  Before Rusck could answer, we heard what sounded like a firecracker or something going off. We both spun around but saw nothing. The noise came again, followed by Rusck going, “Shit!” He bent over, and when he stood and held up his hand—it was covered in blood.

  “Oh my god!” I said, and another shot rang out. I felt something whiz right past me. “Somebody’s shooting at us. You’re shot, holy crap, you’re shot. Where, where, where did you get hit?”

  Rusck didn’t answer my question. Instead, he said, “We gotta get out of here.” He grabbed my hand and started to lead me through the forest. I looked back over my shoulder and saw the same person as the other night, rain jacket with the hood pulled up and wearing a
black ski mask. They stood with their legs in a wide stance with a shotgun pointed right toward us.

  “Run, Rusck, run!” I shouted.

  Rusck shoved me in front of him, and we ran. We ran over the fallen trees. We ran over woodland debris. We darted and bobbed between the trees, all the while hearing heavy footsteps close behind, crunching twigs and branches. Rusck put his hand on my shoulder blade, encouraging me to go faster. I kicked into high gear and lengthened my stride and started leaping—not running—over everything. Trees, branches, and sky flew by, and another loud pop rang out. My heart beat in my ears. I was certain we only had a matter of minutes to live. Whoever was behind us shot at us a third time and then a fourth. I glanced over my shoulder to see if I could catch another glimpse of the shooter.

  “Don’t look,” Rusck sputtered through heavy breaths.

  I heeded his advice and continued to run, trying to concentrate on not falling and pushing aside the thought of what would happen if I did. What would happen then? Rusck and I seemed to have put a respectful distance between us and the shooter, but the person with the shotgun didn’t let that stop them, because whoever it was kept shooting at us.

  We ran for what felt like forever, which probably wasn’t that far in actuality, but when somebody was hunting you down, it was almost as if all time stood still. I thought we were never going to get out of that situation. Well, until whoever it was caught us, and then we’d be dead. With all the thoughts and fear and panic that ran through me, I didn’t notice that the forest floor took a sudden turn down.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I tried to stop, to slow down, to give Rusck some warning that there was an extremely deep, almost vertical drop ahead of us, but another shot rang out, and Rusck tripped and fell forward on me, and then we became a unit of one, rolling and tumbling down the side of the ravine. We bumped and flew and hit every rock and tree root possible. Head over heels we went. Forest, sky, forest, and then finally I only saw the sky.

  I landed on my back with such a hard blow it felt like all the life was sucked right out of me. I could only inhale. It was the most awful feeling ever. Glancing up at the treetops and the sky, I tried to think of what I told Rusck, slow even breaths. In and out. My lungs burned. I closed my eyes and tried to let my mind wander, and I wasn’t sure if I passed out or fell asleep, but all of a sudden, I woke up, and a long time had passed because it was nighttime. Clouds covered the sky, so it was totally dark out, surrounded by blackness, and I was aware of how alone I was.