Powerlines

by Kurt Newton

  "You mean me and you...hiking through the woods...looking for your boyfriend?"

  "You'd be another pair of eyes, that's all."

  Another pause. "Okay, I'll do it. Where do you want me to meet you?"

  Lindsey was ready to tell him off. She needed a good yell, and Jared would have been the perfect target. But he surprised her.

  "Tomorrow morning, my house, eight o'clock," she said.

  "That's kind of early. Do I at least get breakfast?"

  "I'll see what I can do."

  "Okay."

  "Okay. See you then."

  Lindsey slowly folded her phone shut. Okay, she thought.

  19

  The phone rang at midnight in the Knox household. Richard and his wife, Marlene, were asleep. Knox was the first to wake up. He reached for the cell phone, which played an ominous-sounding country tune; a tune Knox didn't even know he had programmed into his phone. He stared at the incoming number, which wasn't a number at all but three question marks.

  "Hello?"

  There was distant static, then a voice. "I hear you're organizing a search?"

  The voice sent a chill down to the soles of Knox's feet. He quickly slipped out of bed and left the room, his wife still asleep behind him.

  "That's right."

  "Which is it now — one of those tree-loving wheat grass drinking nature enthusiasts? Or some dumb-ass drunken fool who doesn't know east from west or north from south?"

  "It's a young man who went hiking for the weekend. Alone."

  Laughter. Bone-chilling laughter. The kind of laughter heard from a killer just moments before he pulls the trigger and puts a bullet into his pleading victim's head.

  "Let's hope it's just a broken ankle."

  Knox didn't know what to say. He knew what he wanted to say. You sick fuck of a bastard cock sucking government prick. But he knew that would only make matters worse. For him. As long as he kept his mouth shut and did his job, things would be okay.

  "Look," Knox said, "it's after midnight, my wife's asleep, I'd appreciate it —"

  "You'd appreciate what? The extra money we deposit into your account every week? The way we bailed you out when you were looking at ten to twenty? Does your wife know about that night in Vegas?"

  "Okay, it's late that's all."

  "As long as we understand each other."

  "I get it. There's just...only so much I can do."

  "Just do as you're told."

  Knox leaned his shoulder against the wall and closed his eyes. He remembered the young woman who disappeared two years ago. The pictures of her young, innocent face still haunted him.

  "I'll keep them away," Knox said.

  "Good."

  The call ended. Knox felt sweat drip down his brow. He went to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. It felt good. It felt cold. He sat in the kitchen in the dark until the bottle was finished. Then he went back to bed. It was going to be a long day tomorrow. He needed all the sleep he could get.

  20

  The eighth of July was just as hot as the fourth, and the fifth, and the sixth, and the seventh. In fact, it had been unusually warm. Ninety-five-plus degrees each day, air as heavy wet sheets, with no relief in sight. Not a great day to be hiking through the woods. But today wasn't for recreation. Today was for a cause. Find Ethan Morales.

  Jared pulled his Mercedes M Sport up the Richmond's long dirt drive and parked it behind Lindsey's Range Rover. It was 7:30 in the morning. He was still half asleep, but he was right on time. Before he even slid out of his car, Lindsey came out of the house. She was dressed in tan cargo shorts, hiking sneakers, and wore a white sleeveless tank top. In one hand she dragged a book bag; in the other she carried a travel mug with a plate on top. She handed Jared his breakfast: a coffee and a bagel with cream cheese. "Here you go," she said. Then she got into her Rover and started it up.

  "Well, good morning to you, too."

  Jared, standing in his muscle T and surfer-style knee-length camo shorts, stood like someone who had just been served a subpoena. A nice edible subpoena, but unexpected just the same.

  Lindsey rolled down the window and leaned out. "Well, come on." Jared grabbed his own backpack and climbed in.

  The drive to the Ranger's Station was a quiet one, the kind of quiet filled more with serious thought than casual conversation. Jared, to his credit, took his cue from Lindsey's silence. He didn't ask to turn on the radio or even attempt small talk. He ate his bagel and drank his coffee. The determined look in Lindsey's eyes told him this wasn't a joyride for her. He wasn't at the top of her wish list when it came to asking for help, but for some reason he was all she had.

  He had thought about her all last night, but he wasn't going to let her know that. He also wasn't going to let her know he had the opportunity to go to Boston with a friend to see a Red Sox game but turned it down, which his macho alter ego chastised him for doing:

  So you'd rather spend the day hiking through the woods under a hot sun with gnats and sweat and those things that stick to your pant legs just to be with a girl you may or may not like and who may or may not like you, instead of sitting in a comfy box seat at Fenway Park watching Yuke, Pedroia, and Big Poppi tear the cover off the ball? Next thing you'll be considering having your penis split in two and reshaped into a vagina!

  But he couldn't help himself. Despite how their "chance" encounter went on Fourth of July night, he had feelings for Lindsey. And his gut told him she wouldn't have even entertained the thought of seeing him again if she didn't feel the same way.

  Lindsey took the back roads through Pomfret into Eastford, driving past woods and farm houses and stonewall after stonewall. Jared had kept his part of the bargain and had not said a world. Lindsey was the first to break the silence.

  "We're almost there," she said. It sounded more like a reprimand than an informational note.

  "What — I didn't say anything."

  "Well, stop shaking your leg."

  Jared looked down to see his knee pistoning up and down. "Sorry, nervous habit." He stared out the window. Nothing but woods. "Thanks for the coffee by the way."

  Ahead, the entrance sign to the Natchaug State Park loomed. Lindsey pulled onto the access road.

  The Station parking lot, which was almost always empty, was crowded with a dozen SUVs and 4x4s. Volunteers dressed in fanny packs and hiking boots were gathered around the Ranger's truck, where a large map was spread across its hood. As Lindsey and Jared hurried to join the group, their entrance was heralded by the mournful yelps of two tracking dogs sitting in the back of one of the 4x4s. Knox did his best to remain both cordial and authoritative with his introductions.

  "Everyone — this is Lindsey Richmond. She'll be joining us today. She's the one who reported Mr. Morales missing." Most of the volunteers nodded. They looked like a group of hunters. Local firemen maybe. Some said, "Hey." All looked anxious to get the search underway.

  "Is this your brother?" said Knox.

  Jared introduced himself before Lindsey could respond. "Yes, I'm her brother, Jared."

  Lindsey elbowed him.

  "Okay, let's get back to business. As I said before, Mr. Morales can be anywhere along this fifty-mile segment of the URW. We can cover the most ground if we break up into five teams. If we assume Mr. Morales stayed close to the power lines, we can use these access points —" Knox pointed to five places along the utility right of way "— with each team covering approximately ten miles each. We'll use the dogs only if necessary. Because cell phone service is nonexistent, we'll be using police band walkie-talkies. Each is set to channel one. If you see anything, yell. Any questions?"

  Everyone nodded — except Lindsey. "Whose team are we on?" she said.

  "You two will stay with me," said Knox. "Okay, everyone, you've done this before, you know what to do. Let's move."

  The utility right of way was roughly divided into five sections. The first team began on Route 44 in Ashford, where Lindsey last saw Ethan climb up the embankme
nt. The second team — consisting of Knox, Lindsey and Jared — entered near Jacob's Brook. Their leg would bring them right up to the base of Backbone Ridge. The third team picked up at the Bridge Street access road near the backside of the ridge and would travel west. The fourth team entered in the town of Union and would search all the way to the Massachusetts border, while the final team continued the course until it met the Mass Pike.

  On the drive over the Jacob's Brook, Knox said, "You two aren't brother and sister, are you?"

  Lindsey shook her head and was about to explain, when Jared leaned forward.

  "Sorry, sir, it was a just a joke. My name is Jared Whitford. My father owns Whitford World Auto in Bloomfield. You might have heard of it?"

  "Look, son, what we're doing here today is no joke. There'll be plenty of time for joking after we find Mr. Morales. But until then I'd appreciate it if you're on the level with me."

  "Oh, I will, sir. Sorry, sir. My bad."

  "Now, Lindsey, how long have you and Mr. Morales known each other?"

  "Our one year anniversary just passed."

  "Are you two contemplating marriage?"

  "We really hadn't talked about it. To be honest, my mother doesn't particularly like Ethan."

  "Is that so?"

  "Ethan works at the Custom Furniture Mill in Eastford. He's an apprentice craftsman. My mother sees no future in a man who is an apprentice craftsman."

  "There really isn't," said Jared.

  Lindsey glared at him.

  "Is he good at what he does?" said Knox.

  "He's good enough to own his own business someday," said Lindsey.

  "Well, that's good enough. He sounds like a nice young man."

  "He is."

  Lindsey struggled to keep her composure. She appreciated the way Knox talked of Ethan in the present tense.

  Knox tapped her on the leg. "Don't worry, we're gonna find him."

  They passed over a small one-lane bridge. Further on, along the side of the road was a dirt entrance. The entrance was just deep enough for Knox to pull the truck into before a steel gate blocked any further access. The dirt road continued on through a break in the woods. The thick spider strands of the power lines could be seen sagging across the open sky in the distance.

  Knox killed the engine and stepped out. He grabbed his Ranger hat and placed it firmly on his head.

  "From here on it's just the land and our hiking boots."

  Lindsey stared through the truck's windshield unable to move. The AC withered and the morning heat grabbed her like a bear hug. She had a bad feeling swirling in her gut, a feeling she refused to acknowledge. The air had become stifling. She felt herself slide out of the truck after Jared, but a part of her stayed behind. It was a strange sensation, like being in two places at once. In one reality things would just stay the same and what happened to Ethan would still be unanswered. In the other reality she was on her way to find out. For a moment it felt as if she were the one who was lost.

  "Whoa! Lindsey, you alright?"

  Jared grabbed her by the elbow. Lindsey balanced herself against the truck. Then everything snapped back into place. The heat dissipated and a cool breeze caressed her face. "I'm okay," she said. "I should have eaten something."

  "Here —" Jared handed her a bottle of water from his pack. She drank several gulps and handed it back.

  "Thanks."

  "No problem."

  Knox had gone on ahead.

  "We better catch up or we'll be the ones lost," said Jared.

  Lindsey looked at him. She knew exactly what Jared meant.

  21

  Pike stood before the Pit #3 monitor. On the monitor, Ethan paced. Pike watched as Ethan returned to the corner where the pine boughs were gathered. Ethan stopped; he turned, then unbuttoned his jeans. He pulled them down to his ankles and squatted. He stared at the camera the whole time. Without anything to wipe himself, he stood and pulled his jeans back up, then returned to pacing.

  Pike adjusted the invisible frequencies emitted inside the room from 6 Hz to below 3 Hz, moving from theta waves into the delta wave region. After several minutes, Ethan gradually slowed as if suddenly weary. Ethan returned to his spot on the floor opposite the entrance door and lay down. Meanwhile, Pike let the frequency fall to less than 1 Hz. Ethan's eyelids fell shut and his respiration slowed.

  Satisfied, Pike walked down the long narrow access ramp leading to Pit #3. As always, Wolf was by his side. A pair of specially designed headphones hung on the wall. Pike slipped them on. He entered a code into the keypad on the wall and a door opened.

  Across the room, Ethan lay on the floor. The odor in the pit was beginning to smell unclean. There would be time for chores later. Right now, during the Conditioning Phase, there needed to be sacrifices.

  Pike approached Ethan and crouched down beside him. He lifted Ethan's wrist and felt for a pulse. After several seconds Pike said, "Good," and laid the hand back onto Ethan's chest. He then placed a white sheet of paper on the floor beside his subject, along with a small pencil, big enough to write with but too small to use as a weapon. Pike had prepared a simple questionnaire — Yes/No, multiple choice — to gauge Ethan's "progress."

  Pike stood and headed for the door. He gathered the dirty dishes on his way out.

  Wolf had wandered over to the corner of the room and was sniffing around the dirt pile.

  "Wolf!"

  The animal turned quickly at Pike's command. The two of them exited the room and the door closed with a solid shunk.

  22

  The breeze kept the bugs to a minimum, but it didn't keep the hitchhikers off of Jared's socks.

  "Ow-ow..."

  "What is it now?" Lindsey tsked.

  "Prickers. I think I'm bleeding."

  "Just step on them," Lindsey said.

  "My sneakers are ruined."

  Lindsey looked over her shoulder and made a sad mocking face. "For such a muscle boy you sure are wimpy."

  Jared smiled. He used the walking stick he had and posed like a javelin thrower, which accentuated the ripples beneath his muscle T.

  Lindsey shook her head, but a grin did escape. It was momentary, but it was there. She hoped she had turned away before Jared had seen it.

  Knox had taken the left-side track while Lindsey and Jared kept to the right. Overhead the power lines hummed. The towers lined up like a series of football field goal posts — the old fashioned kind. The trail rose and fell with the geography of the land. It was actually quite pretty, thought Lindsey, as there were wild flowers growing in the unlikeliest of places — in the rotted centers of shorn tree stumps, and out of the dark fissure of stone outcroppings. Colorful berries dotted a variety of ground shrubs. The smells were warm and scented, like those gift shop candles, and the breeze kept the heat from surrounding them and reminding them how hot it was. Knox talked now and then on his walkie talkie, checking in on the other parties' progress. Lindsey heard familiar sounds. The sounds reminded her of her pond at home with its insect buzz and occasional birdsong. She understood now why Ethan had wanted to do this. It was peaceful.

  But another sound was heard, less peaceful, more annoying. The whine of trail bikes. Knox hurried back along the trail to intercept them as they came out of the woods, waving his walkie-talkie at them like a firearm. The two riders stopped abruptly and removed their helmets. One of the boys put his hands up.

  Lindsey stopped and watched the exchange from a distance. When one of the bikers said they had seen a guy hiking through there, she rushed over to hear what else they had to say. Jared stayed behind to pick the burrs from his sneakers.

  "He said he was hiking all the way to Massachusetts. It had to be him," said the teenager with short hair.

  "I told him to be careful when he got to Backbone Ridge," said the one with long hair.

  "Why would you tell him that?" Lindsey said.

  "Because me and Cody have seen and heard a lot of funny things out here. Sometimes we ride through here at nig
ht and we see these weird lights up on the Ridge. One night we heard these crazy noises."

  "What kind of noises?" said Lindsey.

  "I don't know. Howls and screeches."

  Knox cleared his throat. "Coyotes and screech owls," he said.

  "Yeah, but, no," countered the long-haired teen. "These were different, like nothing you've ever heard."

  Knox turned to Lindsey. "Sometimes there's a cougar sighting. Even bears have been known to wander down this far during mating season."

  "Okay, maybe," the long-haired one conceded. "But those sounds will give you nightmares."

  Lindsey looked at the two boys, who seemed genuinely scared. "How did Ethan seem to you? Was he okay?"

  "Oh, yeah, he was cool," said the short-haired one. "He looked like he knew what he was doing. Sorry to hear he's missing. Seems to happen a lot up here."

  "What?" Lindsey said.

  "Okay, boys, that's enough," said Knox. "This is restricted property, you know that don't you?"

  "Yes sir," the two teens said. "We were just crossing over," the short-haired one added. "There's a trail —" he pointed toward the woods.

  Knox held up his hand. "You're not in trouble. You two just keep going, okay? Thanks for your help."

  The two put their helmets back on and started their bikes. Knox walked away to continue the search. But Lindsey stayed put. She had few more questions for the two teens.

  "What do mean 'It seems to happen a lot up here'?"

  "Last year it was girl," said the short-haired one.

  "And the year before that it was guy and a girl," said the long-haired one.

  "They were found, right?" Lindsey waited for an answer.

  The two boys looked at each other and then shook their heads.

  Lindsey was stunned by the news. Why hadn't she heard of this before?

  "You're pretty," said the one with long hair.

  "Yeah, that Ethan's one lucky dude," said his friend.

  Lindsey didn't even register what either boy had said after hearing about the disappearances. She watched them drive off. Then she turned back toward the trail ahead. Backbone Ridge lay in the distance like a stony snake atop the forest of trees.