Ten seconds later, his engine was rumbling, the belt squeaking in the warm rain, and he threw it into gear, honking at a pedestrian standing in front of us.
I saw him then. Clark was standing at the road’s entrance, covering his eyes, scanning the crowds as if searching for someone. Our gazes locked as John ripped out of the parking lot, rear tires barking as they slid on the pavement.
Clark had been looking for me.
July 13th – 2001
Dad had left over an hour ago, just as it was almost dark, and he’d told Zoe to watch out for me. I didn’t need her babysitting, but it was really annoying that she’d abandoned me a few minutes after Grandma was packed up, and Dad’s taillights were down the road.
I blew the rest of my cash on carnival games and candy, feeling the sugar rush of overdoing it. I wanted to leave now, but I had to find Zoe first. Clark had been M.I.A. and I was angry at him for promising to come, then ditching me. It sucked. Was this what dating was like? It was obvious he was too good-looking for me, too popular to want to be with a girl younger than him, especially when there were girls around like… well, Zoe.
I trudged around aimlessly, unable to spot Zoe anywhere; then I bumped into someone.
“Sorry,” I said, and looked up to see Peter Martin staring at me.
“Hello, Zoe,” he said.
“Jess. I’m Jess.” I wished I’d just kept moving.
“My apologies. You two are so much alike,” he said, and I wondered if that was his feeble attempt at flattery. He gave me the creeps, and I tried to excuse myself when someone arrived at his side. It was the older kid from Local Beach, the one with the joint in his mouth. I could smell it on him now, a mixture of weed and stale cigarettes.
“Have you met my son?” Mr. Martin asked with a hint of distaste.
I shook my head.
“This is Theodore. He’s… here for the summer.”
“Teddy. Dad, don’t call me that.” His eyes met mine, dark brown, aloof, like he’d just told the world’s biggest joke and didn’t care.
“Nice… nice to meet you.” My skin was crawling. Mr. Martin made me want to throw an oversized coat on and hide.
“Are you having fun?” the older of the two asked.
“Sure. My dad’s over there. I’m just going to…”
“Your dad’s at home. I passed them on the way here,” Mr. Martin said, and Teddy chuckled.
“Bye,” I said, attempting to swerve around them. I could feel their eyes on me as I went, heading for the Ferris wheel. I wanted to ride it with Clark, and instead I was here alone, ditched by both him and my sister, while strange men disturbed me. I hated Zoe with a passion at that moment. She was supposed to be there for me, but she’d bailed. I felt like shouting her name at the top of my lungs and making her call Dad to bring us home. Home. The cabin felt like something far from home at that moment. It was temporary. A place for us to watch Grandma die, and somewhere Dad could forget he was ever married.
Dad was supposed to come at ten, and I asked a lady what time it was. Nine ten. That left fifty minutes to wait. The Ferris wheel line wasn’t too long, so I walked over to it, pulling my last four tokens from my shorts pocket. People filed onto the ride two at a time, when I heard Zoe’s laugh. I glanced to the source, and saw my sister standing there talking to a boy. They were at a popcorn vendor; the smell of kernels oversaturated with butter and salt carried to me as I started for them.
The boy’s back was to me, but it clicked when I saw his white tennis shoes. It was Clark. Zoe laughed again, and I saw her arm pull Clark toward her, lifting on her toes to kiss him. They turned as they kissed, and tears flew from my eyes before I registered what I was seeing.
I ran. Ran from my traitorous sister, and from the boy who was supposed to like me. How could I ever have thought Clark would choose me over my older sister? She was gorgeous, developed, and apparently more apt to put out than I was. I let out a screech of frustration, and thought I heard someone calling my name as I ran. I’d competed in track the last two years, and I used the skills now to soar from the Kick-Off grounds.
Soon I was in the forest, dashing toward our cabin. Betrayal burned in my chest, anger fueling each step. Branches caught my arms and legs, slapping and slicing into me as I ran. I didn’t care. I let the sweat, tears, and blood intermingle, but eventually, I had to stop. I jerked my head up, locating the moon in the sky, and tried to determine where I was. The stars reflected into the water beyond, and I made my way to the lake’s edge, knowing that if I followed it long enough, I’d arrive at Grandma’s.
July 16th – 2020
Those eyes. Peter Martin had introduced his son to me once, and as John flashed me his effortless grin, my memory filled in the blanks. It was him. John Oliver was Teddy Martin. How had I been so stupid? It was obvious now. He lived in the same damned cabin! I’d bought what he was selling so easily.
He was handsome, short styled hair instead of shaggy locks. Dress shirts and designer jeans instead of torn pants and oversized hoodies. But the eyes. I should have remembered the eyes. Dangerous brown eyes.
“What is it?” he asked me, sensing a shift in my posture. I’d gone rigid, petrified.
“My ankle hurts.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. I had to get out of the truck. My hand dug into my purse, and I heard the truck doors lock with a click.
Water was bucketing onto the windshield, making the visibility terrible, and when John looked over at me, I was worried he was going to veer off the road.
“Don’t do anything irrational… Jessica,” he said, not even sounding like the man I’d spent time with this week. Hearing my real name off his lips sealed the deal...not that I had any doubts.
“What do you want with me, Teddy?” I barked out, fumbling through my possessions. The gun was missing.
“Looking for something?” he asked, pulling the gun from somewhere beside him. “You didn’t think I’d bring you here to let you shoot me, did you?” He laughed; at first it was a normal sound, then the pitch rose, and his eyes danced wildly in their sockets.
I stared at the gun that I’d been foolish to bring with me. “You didn’t answer my question,” I told him, unable to hide the fear from my voice.
“All in due time, Jessica Carver.” My name was spat off his tongue with distaste. I was wearing my seatbelt, and I saw he wasn’t. If I could take hold of the steering wheel, maybe I could crash the truck, send him flying. But other headlights were up ahead, and I couldn’t risk hurting anyone else on the road. The streets were full of families, coming home from a long day, tired, soaked kids screaming in backseats.
My hand felt my cell in the purse, and I tried peeking into it, seeing if I could send a message out.
“Pass it here.” Teddy motioned the gun toward me, and I offered it with a shaky hand.
He rolled his window down and tossed my phone onto the road. “Good girl. I’m surprised it took you so long. I’ve been following you for years, you know. Reading all your articles. Cute stories about puppy adoption in the city, best cronut spots in Manhattan. Secret rooftop bars you don’t want to miss. It’s so good to know you’ve made the most out of your life.” His last comment dripped with sarcasm.
“How did you find me?” I asked.
“Records like that are only sealed to the outside. People are easy, Jess. They like money. I give them money, they give me things in return. Like your old friend Chris Barns. He was only too happy to sell you down the river for a few bucks,” John said. I corrected myself. Teddy said. John was as much who he really was as Eva was me. I almost laughed at our interactions, each using an alias, thinking we were smart enough to trick the other; only he had bested me, and I was at his mercy.
I played the one card I had. “Barns has been arrested. I found out about it all, the email trail from TM27, the money transfer. It’s all on record, and they’ll come for you.”
He laughed again; this time, it had a maniacal tinge to it. “You re
ally think I paid him from my bank account? Didn’t you do a piece on cryptocurrency this year? Didn’t you also allude that it was a way to launder money, drugs, prostitution, et cetera? You hit the nail on the head, my dear.”
I’d taken the shot and missed. He was driving fast, and braked hard, as if realizing too late he’d missed a turn. He cranked the steering wheel, sliding to the side as he corrected the truck’s path, and the vehicle glided on the wet gravel. We were heading toward Grandma’s cabin, toward Peter Martin’s cabin.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked.
“To the place you claimed my dad kept you. Only he didn’t, did he? You made it all up. You’re a pathetic liar.” The truck lurched to a standstill, and he threw it into park. Teddy pushed out of his driver’s side door and ran around the truck, already soaked by the time he arrived at my window. “Get out!” My own gun was pointed to the window, the barrel aimed at my face.
I did as he said, without any options. After a glance around, I saw there was nothing to use as a weapon. Dad used to always say you never brought a stick to a gunfight, unless there was no other option. The door flung open, and Teddy stepped over, far enough away that I couldn’t lunge at him without being shot for the effort.
“Get inside,” he shouted over the booming thunder. If it was possible, the rain was coming down in droves, even heavier now. I plodded forward, my ankle swollen from before. I couldn’t go inside. It was a sure death. I knew this, could feel it with every inch of my being. I heard my Dad’s voice call to me, the overprotective man that I’d known since the summer of 2001. He warned me. He told me to run. To fight.
We were nearing the porch, right by the shed I’d poked around in for yard equipment the day before. The door was still open, and a shovel leaned against the exterior walls of the structure.
I waited for the right moment and shoved Teddy as we stepped onto the dirt path in front of his cabin. The rain had turned it to mud, and he slipped, the gun going off just as a thunderclap echoed over Cloud Lake. I heard him cursing me as I ran, limping to the shed. My fingers grabbed the wet handle, and I gripped it as tightly as I could as Teddy wiped mud off his pants. The gun had fallen to the ground, and I took my chance.
We were twenty yards apart, and I moved as quickly as my injured leg would let me, hobbling over to him as he leaned down, trying to get hold of the 9MM. He found it just as I arrived, the shovel raised high in the sky. I felt the ground slip from under me as I swung, and landed with a thud on my back. I’d slipped, and my breath forced from my lungs with a whooshing sound.
I lay there, frozen in pain as water threatened to drown me from above. Teddy was holding the shovel in one hand and the gun in the other, water pouring from his face over his wide smile. He shook his head at me like a disappointed parent before he glanced at my injured ankle. My leg exploded as he stomped on my foot.
I screamed, a primal animalistic sound of pure agony and rage. I was helpless and I knew it. He started dragging me, and I heard the shovel fall to the ground as he hefted me up the steps. My ankle hurt so badly, I thought I was going to pass out as I bumped up each step, head thudding against the stairs.
“Stop. You don’t have to do this! I didn’t do anything wrong,” I pleaded through gritted teeth. Clunk. My head hit the top step, and he ignored me, pulling me toward the doorway.
“Inside now.” His words were shallow, quiet drops of rain in a big lake. “Jessica Carver, prepare for your judgment.”
July 13th – 2001
Finally, after another ten minutes, I saw lights from the cabin beyond Mr. Martin’s. The owners were rarely there, but they must have come to town for the Kick-Off. Seeing something other than trees, shrubs, and dirt helped lift the cloud of angst drowning my teenage mind.
My mom’s old necklace clung in my tight grip, and I wished she were there to talk to me about what happened. What kind of mother was she? Would she have brushed my hair, popped some corn, done my nails, and watched a bad rom-com with me?
I was never going to talk to Zoe again. She didn’t deserve to be my sister any longer; that much was clear. She knew I liked Clark. Didn’t she? I hadn’t openly discussed it, mostly because I was worried that if I drew a target on him, she would act on it. Apparently, the fates already had her doing that, regardless of me telling her I had a crush on the boy.
Mr. Martin’s cabin was dark, and I assumed they were still at the public beach. I could cross by without worry. Grandma’s porch light was on, and I emerged from the trees, staring in the distance when I tripped, falling hard to the ground between Mr. Martin’s and his neighbors’. Even in the dark, I could now see the pronounced tree root jutting from the ground like a gnarled orc’s arm, reaching for my ankle.
I stood, brushing dirt from my knees, when I noticed the necklace was gone, dropped in the fall. I scoured the ground, cursing myself for being so clumsy. This was Zoe’s fault too. If I lost the necklace… I kept looking, desperate to see the shine of the metal in the moonlight.
I stayed there for five minutes; it might have been longer. I’d return first thing in the morning. I mentally marked the tree and remembered the way the root snaked sideways and out from the trunk. When I was confident I’d be able to find the right spot again, I started to leave.
Lights emerged from above me, and I thought Mr. Martin must have installed a new porch light, an intense motion detector. It was so bright, my eyes hurt, and I squinted against the radiance. It softened, and I now saw it wasn’t coming from Mr. Martin’s. It was in the sky. Thoughts of a helicopter searching for me crossed my mind, but I’d only been gone for a short while. No one would have been alerted I was missing.
I stepped from the treeline, slowly walking into the middle of the yard. The lights dimmed, and I could see at least eight individual beams forming a circle. My heart sped up as it clicked. The rumors, the chatter of UFOs, Grandma’s story about seeing the lights… they were true. I was bearing witness to the lights, just like she had so long ago, and a new kind of kinship coursed through me, spreading with each accented beat of my heart.
My arms rose to the sky, suddenly so sure they wanted me to see them, to bask in their glow, to know that things like my sister kissing a boy I barely knew didn’t mean anything. Nothing at all. There was life other than humans, or on Earth. I knew this now.
I was laughing, giggling like a girl, when the lights brightened again. The first time it pulsed, I thought they’d left me, and for a second, I was all alone again. The feeling threatened to overwhelm me; then the lights pulsed again, growing in speed, rising in brightness until I couldn’t look in its direction any longer.
The flashing was a strobe now, and I felt the wrongness creep through my tightly closed eyelids. It was insidious, menacing. Their intentions became clear, even if I didn’t know how. Anger, mistrust, resentment pulsed with the light, and finally, it all came to an end. It was dark once again, and when I looked up, I thought it might have left, until I noticed there were no stars in the sky. The ship covered it, hovering fifty feet above me.
I ran. My sore, tired legs pumped, and I shouted one word, before the light enveloped me and became all I’d ever know again.
“Dad!”
July 16th – 2020
I knew where he was taking me before he dragged into the cabin. The underground room was well documented during the case. I could envision the images as they flashed across the television screens of every local and major news network for over a month, at least until something newer and fresher overtook the headlines. Reporters talked about the hidden trap door in Peter Martin’s cabin, and what it was used for. How many girls had he kept there? Where were the bodies? Rumors spread that Martin had abducted every girl this state had ever reported missing. Without evidence, there was no conviction on any of those cases.
“Kind of ironic, isn’t it?” Teddy asked. I could no longer think of him as John. John was dead, and the man before me wore his skin, but not his face. This man was pure evil, vengeance
dripping from him as obviously as the rainwater.
“What is?” I asked as he shut the door, flipping no less than three deadbolts. He wasn’t messing around.
“That the first time you’re actually going to be inside the supposed torture room is now,” Teddy said.
I looked around, trying to find a weapon, but knew I couldn’t so much as step on my wounded ankle. I tried to think logically about my situation, but there was no way out. Forcing me down there wasn’t an option either. Once I was beneath this cabin, there was no helping myself.
“Go ahead. Try to scream,” he taunted.
The room was sparsely furnished, and it appeared that what was in here was original to the cabin. I clawed my way onto my butt, my legs out in front of me, and I pressed my back to the wall beside the door. Teddy stood a few yards away, beside the wood-burning fireplace. I saw the utensils there, wishing I could grab one of the cast iron tools and bash his smug face in with it.
He was brandishing my gun, smiling as he waved it in front of his body. “Are you going to do this the easy way?” he asked, and I spat at him, fury rising in my exhausted body. “I take that as a no.” He pulled something from atop the fireplace mantel, and I only had a second to register the dart in the tranquilizer gun before I peered down, seeing one sticking from my chest.
I struggled to escape, but he was on me, holding me still for a full minute or two, pressing my shoulders into the wooden floors until my head slumped to the side, and all went blank.
__________
“You see, if anyone was going to use this room for nefarious activities, it was me, not my dad,” Teddy said, but my eyes were closed. I gasped softly, inhaling, and kept still, hoping he didn’t know I was coherent. My head was spinning, and it took a moment to recall where I was.
It smelled different: stale, musty. We were in the basement. I was in a seated position, my ankle throbbing fiercely as the blood pooled to my feet. My hands were restrained behind me, the rope already chafing my wrists. I wondered how he’d managed to drug me just the right amount, and assumed he had practice on dosage over the years. He was dangerous.
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