by KT Strange
“Please,” Beau says again, and his voice is shaky. I glance up at him. His eyes are dark, pupils flared so much there’s nothing left of the iris practically. He looks like he’s going to be sick.
Grady looks at him, and then at me.
“If something, if someone, was hunting her, and we never knew about it,” he says quietly.
“We’re fucking idiots,” Kyron cuts in. “Didn’t I tell you something was off with her? Didn’t I?” He steps around the desk to point at Beau. “But you’re such an emotional fuckin’ shut-in, that you didn’t want to hear it. You never do. And now she’s out there, somewhere-” He waves his arm in a circle, fury on his face.
“Next site,” Grady says to me, voice low. I nod and pull up the Kat’s site for her diner. And the tea-room. Neither of them have anything in the code. There’s a little site for the grocery store that obviously has Lacey’s touch on it, the comments just say her name and the date. Nothing extra.
Feeling a gnawing rumble of fear inside me, I load up the motel’s HTML source.
..what’s full is really empty..but you know that don’t you..aand it is not enough to breathe in all of them..but to leave them like that..empty eyes and broken vessels..
My skin crawls.
“Alright, that’s a little creepy,” Grady says lightly, but his hand comes up to rest on the back of the chair, and it creaks under the tense grip of his fingers. He’s officially stressed.
We all are.
Beau and Kyron are in a silent stare-off, and I load up the last site that we know of that she designed. Nothing in the source.
Three clues.
Three brothers.
I have to trust her words, that she trusted them. She might not now, but whatever’s gripping her mind, either knowing some dark secret that’s so terrible she’s afraid to show her face in town, or she’s gone completely crazy, I have to believe that the Lacey that wrote these messages knew enough to know who was safe.
And who wasn’t.
I just wish, sitting there, as I copy down each little note to a document file, that she’d been able to give us more information of who she was afraid of.
And who the broken vessels were, the ones with empty eyes.
16
Cordelia
Empty vessels.
Someone who promises everything.
“I feel like I’m missing something.” We’re sitting around the bar-top counter in the great-room of the cabin, a pile of destroyed ribs on a plate between us. Grady had taken a deep breath after the last website’s revelations, and declared he was ordering in food. Half an hour later, a skinny kid on a moped had bumped into the clearing, with two giant, grease-marked paper bags strapped to the back of his bike.
Lasagna, ribs so juicy and tender the meat melted off the bone, and a giant salad later, I was ready to explode.
Grady made the right call about the food though, it was giving me the fuel I needed to puzzle through this mystery.
“What did you, rather, do you, know about Lacey?” I ask, looking over at where Kyron’s staring at the remaining ribs like he’s ready to pounce. His gaze shifts to me, and for a moment, that same hungry desire burns in his eyes. I rock back on my stool and inhale. His eyes half-lid, and a smirk plays on his lips.
Beau slaps the counter-top, and Kyron jerks in his seat, letting out a soft growl at the other man.
“We know enough that… she was, annoying,” Kyron says, “in like, that nice way, where someone’s trying to help you, but you don’t want the help, and you kinda-”
“We put her off,” Grady says, guilt clinging to his words. “She saw us, and this place, and assumed our business was dwindling-”
“Well it’s not exactly jumping,” I reply.
“We don’t need it to,” Kyron cuts in and Beau makes a cutting chuttt noise in the back of his throat. Kyron glares at him. “She’s here. She’s not going anywhere. Unless you chase her off like you did to Lacey.”
“I didn’t fucking chase Lacey off,” Beau says, drawing each word out of his chest like he’s pulling a heavy line up from the deepest part of the lake.
“Well you weren’t fucking nice to her, were you?” Kyron asks, crossing his arms over his chest and giving Beau a knowing look that is all sass and lights his face up like a ‘Please Slap Me’ neon sign. He’s asking for it.
I dunno why he’s asking for it. And I also don’t know why my whole body feels fuzzy and warm.
Grady, next to me, edges closer.
“You gonna eat that?” He asks, pointing to an untouched rib on my plate.
“Oh, no, go ahead,” I say. He nips it off my plate with his fingers, shooting me a smile that’s all sunshine and does nothing to stop the gentle fizzing under my skin. I train my attention back on the weird tableau of smug-rage-smug of Kyron and Beau. They’re not talking, Kyron’s eyebrow raised high up his forehead like it’s threatening to take flight or something. The mental image of it gently flying laps near the ceiling of the great-room distracts me for a good fifteen seconds.
My brain is weird sometimes.
“Beau likes to think that he can just be rude to whomever he wants, and it doesn’t matter,” Kyron says, matter-of-fact, “but it does matter. And he should learn not to put up a wall before he’s left, all alone, nobody in the world around him.”
“I’m right here,” Beau grits through his teeth.
“Yeah, I know,” Kyron’s lips quirk, like he’s trying not to laugh. “But I’m talking about you in third-person because while it’s not a popular writing style in books, it makes it a little easier for you to hear critical feedback about yourself as a person.” My eyes are ping-ponging back and forth, trying to watch both of their changing expressions at once, and not really figuring how to do that without making myself dizzy.
“Ky,” Grady’s tone is not hard, but it is a warning.
“I didn’t chase her off,” Beau snarls, pushing away from the bar. The energy in the room drops, the temperature almost perceptibly changing from comfortably warm to nipple-hardening cold. I tuck my fingers between my thighs, the tips are cold.
“Can we-” I clear my throat as all three of them look at me. “I mean, Beau, you’re not the most welcoming person I’ve ever met, but I get it. She was in here, in your business. Messing with things. You didn’t want a website-”
“We didn’t need a website. We had plenty of business. Men come in from the city all the time to go on treks, get away from their nagging wives,” Beau said, waving his hand in the air toward the front of the cabin and the road outside. “Just because she never saw the customers didn’t mean we didn’t have any. We didn’t need you either-” His gaze falls on me, and he stops. I’m not sure if it’s because my face has frozen in an expression of trying-not-to-be-hurt by that, or what.
“I know,” I say, “but here I am. And Lacey was here too. So, what did you know about her?”
“She blew in from town, was staying down at the Gato for a few days before she moved to the motel,” Kyron says. I glance at him in surprise.
“That motel?” I ask. He screws up his face.
“I tried to tell her not to, that she could take the cabin out back-” Kyron’s interrupted by Beau’s morphing scowl. “I know I shoulda asked, but, she’s just a kid.” Ky shrugs, and I wonder how old she was, exactly. He keeps saying that. ‘She’s just a kid.’ She didn’t seem gangly like a teen, but her face hadn’t been lined by life yet. I’m going off of her missing poster. The grime and bruises had added a few decades to her life, as was probably to be expected of someone running around the woods, fleeing something or someone.
“It’s fine,” Beau says, letting out a deep breath, “but you didn’t. Why not?”
“She vanished,” Kyron’s words, and face, are lined with regret, and I can tell he’s beating himself up over it.”
“But she’s not gone,” Grady replies, “she’s just not here. And she knows she could be here, but she’s choosing to stay away. From
everyone.”
“How’s she surviving in the woods?” I ask, suddenly. “Like, how’s she eating? Sleeping?”
It’s like I’ve turned on a TENS unit and electrocuted each of them right in the balls.
“Way-stations,” Beau spits out as Grady slides off his stool, and Kyron bolts for the door. They move so fast that it shocks me.
“Wait, what?” I call out. Kyron’s already out the door, and Beau’s right after him. Grady take a breath, and scowls after them before turning to me.
“C’mon,” he says, “let’s grab the ATV.”
“The what?” Frustration and also a little fear fill me. This is going to be a long fucking night.
***
10 minutes in, and I’m wishing for one of those bruised-ass protective pillows.
“Where’s the guys?” I call over the roar of the motor, as I hang on tight to my seat of the ATV, tucked right behind Grady. Every single one of my bones is vibrating, and I’m trying not to tense my jaw because if we go over too many bumps, I’m going to crack my teeth or bust a tendon in my cheek.
“Up ahead,” he says, “they’ll make it to the first station before we do, but that’s fine. Then we can split up from there.”
I nod, glancing to the side. Night has kissed the forest, the moon shining down through the breaks in the trees, illuminating puddles of silver every where.
Nothing is making much sense to me, but from what Grady explained, they keep way-stations with gear, stashes of things they or their clients will need, all over the forests. Why they didn’t think to look there seems to be something he’s beating himself up over, because from the way he’s explained it, they’ve combed the woods over and over looking for her since she first went missing.
They just never looked at their way-stations. Because they’d never talked to her about them. And they didn’t figure she knew anything about them. Except she’s the one who did the website, and it pretty clearly says on the website that way-stations are available with gear in case of emergencies…
It’s so simple, and it’s staring us right in the face. It doesn’t explain why she’s been hiding out, or how she got so bruised up, or why she ran from me and Kyron at the bonfire, but… the way-stations are the only answer for how she could be possibly staying out in the woods, alive, without being seen coming into the town for supplies.
We go over a bump that I feel from my asshole to the base of my neck, and Grady calls back,
“Sorry!” As I grunt in pain.
“Is this as bad as it gets?” I yell at him.
“Ahhhhhh,” he’s not answering me, the sound of his not wanting to tell me the truth dies on the wind around us, and I hunker down, hunching my shoulders.
So no, no, it’s not as bad as it gets. The engine rumbles, the ATV’s headlights slicing right through the dark woods. Normally it’s so quiet out here, I can hear the owls hooting in the distance, warning bugs and bats of their impending doom.
Wait.
I lean forward, cautiously lifting a hand off of one of the safety-rails, and brace it on Grady’s shoulder. He’s warm, through his shirt, and with the cool breeze rushing over me, I soak up his heat.
“She’s going to hear us coming,” I say into his ear, cause my throat is already sore from the little back and forth shouting we’d engaged in at the beginning of the ride.
“That’s why the guys are out front,” he replies, turning his head to shoot me a grin. “They’ll get to her before we do, and she won’t hear them coming.”
I pull back, satisfied for a moment, but then another question pops up.
“How are they running that fast?” I ask. We’re not racing along on the ATV, the trail isn’t good enough for that, but still. However far out this way station is, it’s been more than ten minutes, and we probably have at least double that to go. And the guys are out in front of us? I’d known they had a head start when we left, disappearing into the woods as Grady helped me onto the ATV, but still.
“You haven’t seen them go for it when they’ve got something they’re wanting to chase,” Grady calls, and I can hear the laughter in his voice.
“Weirdos,” I mutter, and yelp as we hit a dip, the ATV tipping to one side enough to make my heart jerk and shudder in my chest. If I wasn’t being jostled around on the ATV, I would be jogging my foot against the ground from nerves. Is she really going to be there? Will they really find her? I just have so many questions.
The guys need answers too. Lacey has so much to explain to us, and I just hope she’s ready to talk.
Something’s scared her so bad that she’s abandoned everything in town she was working toward. Friends. Work. Shelter and safety. She’s literally made the choice that being out in the brush is safer for her than being within Fallen Mountain’s boundaries.
And that thought make my blood go cold.
Maybe it’s the bonfire party. The way people acted, like they were wild creatures, the atmosphere that hung in the air. It made my skin itch, and wells of panic rise up inside me. I’d run from that, too. If Kyron hadn’t been with me, I would have been swallowed up by it, the strange energy that overcame everything, the crackle and heat of the fire that threatened to consume everything around it.
I can barely breathe even thinking about it now. I cough, my lungs tightening up, and the pain spasms in my chest. I cough again, and Grady twists in his seat.
“You okay?” Concern lines his face.
“Drive,” I say, pointing toward the path ahead of us. The trees are crowding this little trail too closely for me to be comfortable with him checking on me visually.
“Scream out if you fall off,” he says, another laugh tucked into his voice, and I growl at him, struggling to breathe normally. I’m fine. I’m safe. I’m with Grady. He’ll never let a single thing happen to me, as long as he’s with me. I know that.
I just wish Lacey had known that too.
The wind buffets my face, angry and cold, and I zip up my hoodie, pulling the hood up over my hair and tightening the laces so as little breeze as possible can get its fingers into my clothes.
It’s freezing out. And Lacey’s been here every night. I hope that the way-stations have offered some kind of protection for her.
It’s over though. We’re going to find her, tonight, and bring her home. She can even have my bed.
I’ll…. just take the couch in the great-room. That thought makes that fizzy feeling from earlier return, filling my whole body. Maybe even, Kyron will let me have his bed.
With him in it.
My face is warming, and Grady leans forward, shifting his weight back and forth before he clears his throat.
“You need a break?” He calls back.
“Uh, no,” I say. Why? My heart thumps noisily in my chest, and I curl tight in on myself, clinging to the ATV. “I’m fine!!”
“Alright,” he replies, sounding strangled.
“Do you?” I lean in, and for a second, all the muscles in his back tense up, like he’s been poked. Or shocked. Or… something.
“Nah,” he says. “Hang on!” I gasp as the trail we’re on takes a sharp turn, and all of the sudden the forest melts away from around us. We’re on a knife-thin trail, this time clinging to the side of mountain-cliff.
I want to swear. I want to scream out loud as the ATV’s wheels churn right at the edge of the drop-off, the other side of it hugging the rock so tight it’s nearly scraping against it.
But I don’t want to distract Grady. I stay still, barely breathing, the lake below threatening to drag me down and swallow me deep. It’s lurking, the shining waters a distant menace. Grady slows to a crawl, and I realize I’d shifted forward, and have been digging my hands right into his waist, nails nearly piercing the fabric of his shirt.
“You okay?” He asks, as the ATV rolls to stop.
“Don’t!” I squeak out. “Keep driving!” My lungs are so tight that every word I say is high-pitched and mouse-like. Grady turns around, his eyes soft.
And probably accidentally drives us right off the cliff, but, y’know, it’s all about trying.
“Hey,” Grady is talking again, and not driving, and despite how he is the nicest of the three guys, I have demoted him down to the bottom of the pile. He is no longer Best Boy. He’s Worst Boy, about to be Murdered Boy.
“Do you want to go for a swim?” I ask him, tight-lipped. “Cause I can make that happen. High-dive. Right from here. How fun would that be?”
His mouth trembles. Bastard. He’s trying not to laugh at me.
“This trail is older than my grandma,” he says.
“Oh great, so it’s got osteoporosis and it’s on blood-thinners. Excellent. Drive,” I hiss out the last word. He shrugs, and shakes his head at me, gently taking his foot off the brakes. I breathe a little easier as we start moving, and if I wanted to, I could reach my hand out, and feel the scrape of granite as we pass by the cliff.
Of course, I could put my other hand out, and feel the empty nothingness of a one-hundred foot drop, but I don’t hate myself that much.
“Almost done,” Grady says, as we keep going around this mini-mountain, the cliff snuggly and close. I hope he likes our lives better than he likes the paint job on his ATV, because I know he’s rubbed up against it once or twice already.
Then it hits me.
We have to come back this way. Well maybe Lacey can ride with him, and I’ll walk back with Kyron and Beau.
Ahead of Grady’s shoulder, just past his ear, I see blessedly flat land, and a gentle slope in front of us.
We roll off the cliff-side trail, and back onto solid ground that spreads off to our right and makes me feel a little bit less like I’m about to plummet to my icy, watery death.