by Amy Cross
"Dr. Cole and Lawrence are searching right now," Ed says. "It's definitely possible. If Bill's experiencing some kind of mental imbalance, there's no telling what he might be doing."
Taking a deep breath, I look over at the metal cross and suddenly I realize I was wrong before. Something has changed. In the dusty ground around the cross, someone has drawn a circle. I'd dismiss it as something inconsequential, except for the fact that the circle appears to be very clear and deliberate. As a shiver runs through my body, I start to wonder what exactly Bill has been getting up to since I left him here. He seemed so sure of himself, and so together; is it possible that he wasn't mentally strong enough to handle his time here?
"Try not to wake who up?" Ed asks, looking at the note Bill left. "You think Bill's started referring to himself in the third person?"
"Is there any food in the hotel?" I ask.
"I doubt it," he replies.
"No, I mean, are the cans of meat still there?" Realizing he doesn't know what I'm talking about, I hurry across the town square and into the hotel. As soon as I get to the room at the side, I see that some of the meat is still on the table, which means that Bill didn't run out of food. If he hiked out of Devil's Briar on his own, I'm pretty sure he would have taken as much food as possible. I glance across the room and see a walking cane still leaning against the wall in the corner. It's strange, but I remember that cane being here on the very first day we arrived in Devil's Briar. As I walk over to take a look, I notice something on the table by the window.
"Anything?" Ed asks as he enters the room.
"More fingernails," I say, walking over to the table and looking down at the neat little set of fingernail plates. It looks like Bill deliberately removed them, but they look as if they were healthy at the time. It's becoming more and more clear that Bill didn't handle being alone up here very well. For all his talk of staying strong, he clearly buckled. I don't blame him. I would never have been able to deal with the loneliness in a place like this. "We have to find him," I say. "He's in trouble."
"Do you honestly think he's still here?" Ed asks.
I pause for a moment. "Logically, he'd have set off along the road, but we didn't see him as we came. Then again, I'm not sure he would have been thinking logically. Think about it. You're stuck in this place for days and days. You're bound to start hearing strange noises, and no matter how strong you might feel, eventually you'll start to wonder if you're alone."
"Bill didn't believe in ghosts," Ed points out.
"But he'd never been in a place like this."
"Do you believe in ghosts?"
"I believe in the ability of the human mind to interpret certain things in a very powerful and believable way," I say. "I also think that maybe there are things we don't understand." I take a deep breath, trying to imagine what it must have been like for Bill to be alone up here. He must have ended up chasing his own tail, slowly losing his mind and becoming increasingly paranoid. "I should never have left him here," I continue. "I should have made him come with me."
"None of this is your fault," Ed says. "Bill made his own choice. He's a rational guy. You couldn't expect this to happen."
"I should have helped him more," I reply. "Maybe he wasn't fully recovered from the accident yet. Maybe he wasn't as strong in the head as I thought." I sigh, realizing that there's a very good chance that Bill is dead. After all, he seems not to be in the town any more, and he clearly didn't bother with the rest of the meat. What if he wandered off into the forest? The chances of him surviving are extremely remote, considering that the temperatures around here can drop below zero, and also taking into account the fact that there are probably wolves in the wilderness. The worst part is, if we don't find him in the town, we have no way of finding him out in the forest, which means we might never know for certain what happened to him. He'll simply have disappeared, his body left to rot somewhere. The thought of Bill dying alone out there in the forest is not something I want to contemplate, but it's starting to seem like the only thing that makes sense.
"Ed!" calls a voice from outside. "Paula!"
Heading back out into the town square, we find that Dr. Cole and Lawrence have returned from their search of the town. I can immediately tell from the look in Dr. Cole's eyes that they didn't find any sign of Bill.
"Obviously we haven't had time to check every building," Dr. Cole explains, "but there's really very little sign of disturbance. The place seems completely still. On the other hand, there are no obvious tracks leading out of the town, so I'm still not quite sure where Bill could have gone."
"He's gone native," Lawrence says with a shrug. "The guy probably wandered off into the woods. Won't be seeing him again. Wolves'll finish him off -"
"Okay," Ed says, trying to get Lawrence to shut up.
"Wolves hunt in packs," Lawrence continues. "A lone guy would have no chance -"
"We get it!" Ed says firmly. "However, there's still hope. If Bill really suffered some kind of mental breakdown, it's very possible that he's hiding from us. He might even be aware that we're here. We need to be careful, because in a vulnerable state he might be very volatile, perhaps even dangerous. If anyone sees him, don't get too close. In fact, I think we should all stick together as much as possible."
"You don't seriously think he'd hurt us, do you?" I ask, shocked that Ed would even consider the possibility.
"I think he's not well," Ed replies. "It's better to be a little cautious. I think we should get the infra-red gear from the truck and use it to check for any signs of life. It'll take a few hours, but at least that way we can be certain whether or not Bill's here. If we find him, we have the necessary equipment to sedate him for the journey home."
"And if he's not here?" I ask.
Ed pauses. "If he's not here, then he's somewhere out there in the wilderness. Hundreds of square miles of rough terrain, inhabited by wolves and -"
"You mean we should just forget about him," I reply.
"I mean it's physically impossible to go searching for him," he says.
"Wouldn't be anything left anyway," Lawrence adds. "Maybe some bones -"
"Shouldn't you be heading back to the truck?" Ed snaps at him. "Get the infra-red kit."
"You're the boss," Lawrence says, lighting up a cigarette. "I just want to make it clear that union rules dictate I get double pay if the situation up here becomes unstable, and I'm pretty sure it counts as unstable right now."
"You'll get paid," Ed says. "Go and get the fucking equipment I asked for."
Smiling, Lawrence turns and wanders away, heading back to the truck.
"Nice guy," I whisper to Ed.
"He's a good dogsbody," Ed replies. "I mean, the guy's a total asshole, but he's good at fetching and carrying. You just have to ignore the crap that comes out of his mouth."
"Do you really think we might never find Bill?" I ask.
Ed stares at me for a moment, and I can see from the look in his eyes that he doesn't want to admit the truth to me, which is clearly that he thinks Bill might be lost forever. Before he can say anything, however, I happen to spot that Lawrence has stopped over on the other side of the town square; it takes me a moment to realize that he's pissing against one of the buildings.
"What the fuck?" I say. "What is he, some kind of animal?"
"Hey!" Ed shouts as we hurry over, with Dr. Cole following us. "Stop that!"
"What's wrong?" Lawrence asks as he finishes and gives his penis shake before stuffing it back into his pants. "A man's got to take a leak, hasn't he?"
"Not like that!" Ed says angrily. There's a wet patch in the dust next to the old mayoral office. "This is a historical site of great significance," Ed continues. "You can't contaminate it like that!"
Lawrence sniffs. "So where do you want me to piss and shit from now on?"
"Go outside the town," Ed says.
"Bad move," Lawrence replies. "If there's wolves in the area, they'll be able to pick up the scent from miles around. Better
to do it in the town, where the stink won't carry quite so easily." He pauses. "You know, maybe this Bill guy didn't wander out of town. Maybe the wolves came in and got him while he was asleep."
"That's enough," Ed tells him.
"It's the truth," he replies. "The thing with wolves is they'll -"
"Shut up," I shout, unable to keep my anger at bay any longer. "Just shut the fuck up! That's my husband you're talking about! Have some fucking respect!"
He shrugs as he puffs on his cigarette. "I'm just saying it how it is," he mutters. "You're all standing around talking about how it's so mysterious that a guy could go missing up here. All I'm doing is reminding you that there's a whole load of ways." Turning, he wanders over to the tall black metal cross, stopping just at the edge of the circle that was drawn in the dirt. "This here's a work of wonder, isn't it?" he says. "You ask me, this is the big mystery around here. Gotta wonder how this thing ever got dragged all the way up here, huh?"
"Go to the truck," Ed says firmly, "and get the infra-red kit. Now."
"Sure," Lawrence says, "whatever." He takes the cigarette out of his mouth, and then he steps forward to stub it out on the cross.
Watching as his feet move past the edge of the circle, I suddenly have a moment of realization. Maybe that circle was put there to warn people, in which case... I'm just about to tell him to keep back when he presses the tip of the cigarette against the metal of the cross; for a split second, it seems as if nothing is happening, and then suddenly there's a huge flash of light. Ed, Dr. Cole and I step back as sparks fly from the cross and Lawrence disappears into a ball of bright white light. After a couple of seconds, the light dies down and we're left staring at the empty space where Lawrence used to be standing. Suddenly, it's as if he was never there at all.
Chapter Seven
1925
Sitting by the window, looking out at the night sky, I'm momentarily distracted by the buzzing of a nearby lamp. I look across the room and see that a small candle is flickering in the darkness. Standing up, I walk over and blow gently on the wick. The light continues to flicker for a moment longer, before finally dying.
"Where are you?" I whisper softly, listening to the silence and hoping for some kind of clue.
Nothing.
Suddenly there's a knock at the door, and I turn to see that Albert has returned.
"My dear," he says, with a look of compassion and love on his face, "I have just returned from making the necessary arrangements. I shall spare you the details, but a funeral is to be held in the next couple of days. I have made funds available to cover all the costs, and I have been assured that a suitable memorial will be created. Your uncle had not been in Devil's Briar for very long, but he had quickly become a highly esteemed member of the community and the people here wish to recognize his contribution. They have asked -" He pauses for a moment.
"What?" I say. "What have they asked?"
"They have asked that I should resume my former mayoral duties," he says. "They feel that, in the circumstances, it would be best for the town if I take charge. Although I had not intended to seek public office again, in the circumstances I feel that it is my duty to serve the community, at least for an interim period. However, I told them that I would first have to check with you, my darling. If you do not want me to -"
"Of course I do," I say, trying to smile. "My dear Albert, this town needs you."
"I have a duty -" he starts to say.
"They need you," I repeat, determined to ensure that he understands the responsibility that has been placed on his shoulders. Sometimes I feel that Albert lacks confidence, especially after his recent troubles, but as his wife I am going to ensure that he recognizes his worth. "No-one is thinking about what happened recently," I continue. "They merely know that you are here for them in their time of need. I'm so proud of you, Albert, and I know for certain that you will perform admirably now that you are restored to the position that should always have been yours."
He nods. "How is your head?" he asks after a moment.
"The ache is gone," I reply. "I must confess, though, I feel rather drained." Walking over to him, I put my hands on his shoulders and look deep into his eyes. He is such a kind man, but I am quite sure he does not understand the full extent of the events that have been taking place in recent days. "I am so sorry, Albert, that our wedding day has had to coincide with the tragedy of my uncle's death. I hope you understand that, despite everything that has happened, I am still extremely happy to be your wife, and I look forward to running our home and our..." I pause. "I wish to have children, Albert. To have them, and to raise them, and to see them prosper. You wish the same, do you not?"
"I do," he says. "I wish to have a family with you, Victoria."
"Then we shall," I reply. "It is a shame that our wedding night will not afford us an opportunity to make love, but I fear that in my current state, I cannot. You should not be offended or upset, my dear. It is simply that my mind is spinning and I cannot think of anything other than my poor, dear uncle. You do understand, do you not?"
"Of course," he says. "There will be more than enough time for things like that once all of this unpleasantness is over." It's rather sweet to observe the tenderness of Albert's manner tonight, as he clearly understands the depth of my despair. It must be so hard for him to have this happiest of days turned into a period of mourning, but he shows no sign of trying to hasten my recovery. He is a good man, and he knows that my uncle was a hugely important man in my life. I imagine that he also has a number of questions for me, since he knows that I was speaking to my uncle just moments before the gunshot was heard, but there will be time enough for such a discussion at a later date, and time for me to come up with a believable story. After all, I cannot possibly tell the people of Devil's Briar the truth; they will simply have to wait and, hopefully, be astonished when my uncle's work proves to be correct.
"Tell me," I say after a moment, "is there any food in the kitchen? I feel rather hungry all of a sudden."
"Absolutely, my darling," he says, clearly pleased that I am showing signs of returning to normality. "I shall fetch you a hearty meal." With that, he turns and hurries out of the room; I sit and listen to his footsteps heading down the stairs, and then I turn to look out the window again. It is strange, but already Devil's Briar feels like a completely different place. It is as if my uncle's presence was a key part of the town, and his absence is now palpable in the air that we breathe. Listening to the still night, I imagine that gunshot firing over and over again, and I think of what it must have been like for my poor dear uncle to place the barrel of the revolver in his mouth and pull the trigger. I was offered the opportunity to view his body, of course, but I chose not to do so. I could not bear to see his face torn apart, and I prefer to remember him as he was in his prime.
"Ms. Paternoster?" says a voice at the door.
I turn to see that Mr. Porter has come to see me.
"No," I say. "I think it is Mrs. Caster now."
"Of course," he continues. "I'm so sorry. I just came to let you know that the citizens have got together and asked me to come and express to you our profound sorrow regarding your uncle's death."
"Thank you," I say, trying to remain polite.
"They also wanted me to inform you that they will all be attending the funeral. In the short time he was here, your uncle became a very important part of our community. He will not be easily replaced."
"I dare say," I reply.
There's an awkward pause, before Mr. Porter turns and walks away. Once again, I am left alone, except I wonder if I am truly alone. Looking over at the lamp by the bed, I see that the candle has begun to flicker once again. I walk over and stare at it for a moment. It seems impossible that a candle could possibly relight itself, though I wonder if perhaps some other phenomenon could explain what happened. Although I did not see a flame still burning, it is possible that it remained extant deep within the wick, hidden from view but with just enough energy to even
tually spring back to life.
"Where are you?" I whisper again. It has been several hours since my uncle's death, and I await some sign that his theories have been proven to be correct. While I could certainly interpret the candle as a sign, I feel that I must not be too hasty. If my uncle was right, there should be a much more powerful and persuasive signal. Even he admitted, though, that he could not be certain how the next few days would manifest, and it is certainly possible that things will take far longer than either of us anticipated. Perhaps it would be useful if I went over his notebooks, to see if I might learn something about the whole process. After all, I must be ready for his return.
Chapter Eight
Today
"Nobody move!" Ed says firmly as we stare at the cross. There's still a little smoke in the air, along with a lingering smell of sulfur.
"What the hell just happened?" I ask, unable to stop staring at the base of the cross. It's almost as if I expect Lawrence to suddenly appear again, as if nothing's wrong, except I know that can't possibly happen. Still, there's no logical explanation for the fact that the man just disappeared in front of our eyes. Even if the cross gave off an electrical discharge, there'd undoubtedly be something left of Lawrence's body, and there'd certainly be scorch-marks on the ground. There's nothing, though. It's as if the man just vanished into thin air.
"No-one goes anywhere near that thing," Ed says, glancing first at me and then at Dr. Cole. "You both understand me, right?"
Dr. Cole nods, staring in shock at the cross.
"I touched it," I say quietly, my mind spinning as I try to work out what's happening.
"When?" Ed asks.
"Last time I was here," I say. "I touched the cross a few times. So did Bill. Nothing happened."
"Well something happened this time," Ed replies, turning to Dr. Cole. "This is more your field than ours," he continues. "What kind of energy level would be required to vaporize a human body like that?"