Just then, the ground begins to shake and I scramble on my hands and knees away from the mound. As the shaking subsides, I look back and the entire mound is gone.
CHAPTER 93
I wake up and discover I am sitting against a tree on the edge of the clearing. I look at my watch and it’s 12:45. I feel like a truck ran over me. I look myself over and I notice several parts of my body have blood on them. I faintly hear sounds approaching and I actually see Ed, Steve, and the troops before I hear them. My ears are still ringing.
They come out of the deep woods and rush up to me. Ed says, “Damn, Mickke D, what happened to you and what was that explosion we heard?”
I just stare at him and don’t answer. Steve asks, “Are you all right? You look terrible.”
I just nod my head. Again, I don’t answer.
Steve and Ed look around for a short while. The vine-covered mound is gone. There is nothing left to show anyone it had ever been there. Ed places a couple of flags in the ground where he remembers the mound once stood. Then, after I get my legs back under me, we head back. The EMTs are waiting for us on Fair Avenue and they attend to my wounds. Steve says he wants to see Ed and me tomorrow morning, first thing.
I return to my suite at the hotel and try to make sense out of everything that happened today. It’s mainly a blur in my mind and at times I’m not really sure it happened at all.
I have no idea what those creatures were, but they had the ability to transform themselves into humans. Maybe that is the only way they can converse with us. As far as to how they got here and how long they have been here, I have no idea. I just hope the cave is sealed and the fire destroyed all of them, except for maybe Willie.
I check my backpack and the rings, necklaces, and metal box are still there. I place the box on a table; get out my penknife and pry open the rusty lid. Inside, I find what looks like a diary with the initials M.M. on the cover. Oh, my God, there have been stories for years that she was in Lancaster and spent time on Mt. Pleasant., but how would her diary end up in the cave. I open it, read a few pages, but decide I’m too tired. I’ll let Steve have the honors.
I go to bed early, but I don’t get much sleep. Nightmares about skeleton creatures and black walls closing in on me keep waking me up. I skip breakfast in the morning, except for some orange juice. I get to police headquarters around 8:30 and start to check my weapon, only to realize I forgot to bring it with me. The officer at the front desk ushers me back to Steve’s office. The mayor and police chief are there. Ed joins us right after I arrive.
I go over everything that happened yesterday in vivid detail including our encounter with Willie and the minor earthquake. No one present interrupts me along the way. After I finish, the mayor looks at me and says, “Do you really expect me or anyone else to believe that story? Do you want to panic the entire city of Lancaster? Do you have any proof? Do you have any pictures or anything else to back up your story?”
The police chief looks at Ed and interjects. “Detective Connehey, did you see any of this?”
Ed looks at me and answers, “No, I didn’t see anything but I heard the screams and screeching sounds coming from the entrance of the cave.”
Steve says, “We all heard those same sounds up on Mt. Pleasant during the earthquake.”
The mayor responds, “Probably just a misplaced owl or a bobcat, or both.”
I am very close to being totally pissed off, but instead of going off on them, I grab my phone and say, “I do have a picture of the footprint Ed and I found.”
I hit photos on my phone and click on the picture. “Well, I’ll be damned,” I whisper. “Ed, check your photo of the footprint.”
Ed gets his phone, finds the picture and looks at me. “The footprint is gone. All I have is a picture of the tennis shoe print.”
I reply, “Yeah, me too. What the hell is going on here?”
Steve butts in. “So neither one of you have any solid proof of what went on up there yesterday?”
“Steve, we both saw the footprint.” Ed says.
“I believe both of you, but without cold, hard proof I am not going to put any of this out to the public.”
The mayor says, “I concur.”
“We can always go back up there and excavate the site and find the cave.” I say.
“That’s not going to happen, gentlemen. Let’s just leave well enough alone,” the mayor remarks.
I have been saving the best for last. “Okay, have a look at this,” I say as I place my backpack on the table. “I found these in the cave.” I place the rings, necklaces, and rusty metal box on the table. I point to one of the rings and say to Steve, “Jake was wearing this ring the last time I saw him. Go ahead, open the metal box.”
He opens the box and takes out the diary. He smiles, “People here in town have talked about her being up on Mt. Pleasant for years. Hell, anyone could have put this in the cave.” He pauses as he pushes the diary toward the mayor. “But we will have it analyzed by an expert. It still doesn’t prove anything.”
“What about the rings and necklaces?” I ask.
“We’ll check those out as well,” he replies.
*****
As I leave police headquarters, I’m frustrated and pissed off. I am completely spent. I just know nothing is going to come out of any of what I saw or found on Mt. Pleasant. I’m tired and I hurt. I guess I’ll just pack up and head back to the beach. I need a break from this crazy summer.
*****
It’s been three weeks since my return to Little River. My body has finally regenerated itself and my demons are slowly disappearing. I am feeling less threatened because the Valdez cartel is gone. Maybe, I can stop looking over my shoulder. On the down side, I still have nightmares about Mt. Pleasant and the cave creatures.
Then, I receive a text from Detective Reynolds. It reads: I have good news and bad news. Good: We have determined that the ring did belong to Jake and that some of the other jewelry did belong to several of the other missing persons. Bad: The diary has disappeared and The State Geological Academy has determined that Mt. Pleasant is too unstable to have any further excavation done. Case closed.
The End
EXCERPT FROM “MURDER ON THE FRONT NINE”
I sluggishly and slowly pull myself out of bed around 7:00 a.m. It’s Saturday morning and I heard my overnight guest leave about 6:30. She told me last night she had to be at work by 7:00 at some resort on the ocean. She was a cute, well put together young woman with freckles, I’m guessing in her mid-twenties. I must have really made a big impression on her because she did not even say good-bye. She did leave me note which read, Mickke D, been fun but my boyfriend will be back in town tomorrow. See ya, “pops.”
She never mentioned she had a boyfriend and what is this “pops” bit? Oh well, there are quite a few available women in Myrtle Beach. Of course, sometimes I feel as if I’ve been married to most of them.
I walk into my bathroom and with blurry eyes gaze soulfully into the mirror. Staring back at me is a forty-five year old single male about 6’1” 190 pounds with sandy blond hair. He looks to be in pretty good shape when he pulls his stomach in and throws his shoulders back. Maybe not the buff, ex-Green Beret he was after mustering out of the army fifteen years ago, but not a “pops.”
EXCERPT FROM “COUGARS AT THE BEACH”
The sun propels its first shafts of sunlight, brightening the sky from violet, to salmon, to blue as early morning dawns in the mountains of Colorado. A deafening silence claims the cold, thin, clean air.
A female cougar is stalking a snowshoe rabbit. She has been on the rabbit’s trail since the sky turned from dark to pale. She finally spots her prey about 100 yards away. She has been using her keen sense of smell up to this point and now she finally has her first meal in three days in sight. All of her senses go viral. Her taunt muscular body is ready to pounce, her pupils are wide open and her ears are at attention. She flexes her razor sharp claws in the freshly fallen snow. She moves
with quiet stealth to get nearer to her prey. She gets to within fifty yards of the rabbit when he turns and sees her crouching in the snow. He cowers with fear and anticipation. She freezes; the wind is motionless and there is not a hair moving on her beautiful coat of winter fur.
EXCERPT FROM
“DEATH ON MT. PLEASANT”
Once she reaches the beginning of the trail, she slows her pace and gazes at the reasonably short, steep climb to the top of Mt. Pleasant awaiting her. She realizes, at age 40, this will not be as easy as it was in her teenage years. Motivated by the information she hopes to glean concerning her story, she begins the uphill climb. She starts her climb slowly but it isn’t long before she is breathing hard, and she can feel her heart pounding in her chest and ears. She seriously thinks about turning around and going home. She closes her eyes and forces herself to focus on what she stands to gain once she reaches the top.
After resting for five minutes, she continues her journey. Once she has gone about three-quarters of the way up and after a sharp right-hand turn, she pauses to rest again, during which she tries to build up her courage to proceed. She ventures on once more. Ten very long minutes later, she catches sight of the concrete steps, that lead from the dirt and gravel trail to the summit of Mt. Pleasant about fifty yards away. She is breathing hard, her heart is pounding, her body damp with perspiration, and there is a throbbing pain in her side.
After she finally reaches the top of the cement stairs and the summit, she eases herself down on a rocky outcrop to catch her breath and to try to squelch her underlying fears. She scans the summit for the man she has come to meet, but just like the parking lot at the shelter house, she is alone.
Steve and his wife Beverly live in Little River, S.C. You can contact him via www.stevenmcmillen.com.
Terror Grips the Beach Page 19