Between the torrential downpours that are frequent in this part of the country and the winding, hilly roads in the area, Mitch has seen his fair share of bloody accident scenes. What he has just walked up on in the seating area of The Wood Splitter is different in one very glaring way. The victim that he is looking at here is missing one thing that makes it hard for Mitch to look at the body without feeling sick to his stomach. The body that is secured in the passenger car is lacking any sign that a head was at one time connected to the body.
Chapter 11
Stuart is content with his hiding spot although he is quickly becoming claustrophobic. Being crammed in such a tiny space for so long is starting to play tricks on his mind. He does regret the fact that he lost his radio somewhere along the way and even more frustrated with the lack of service he gets every time he checks his cell phone. He has remained squatted in this tiny space with his finger on the trigger of his rifle for what seems like hours. He knows from the clock on his phone that it has only been about twenty minutes since he heard the shots.
Beads of sweat drip down his face and land on the barrel of the rifle. He fears that if he was actually forced to fire the rifle in this area, he would most certainly go deaf from the concussion. Luckily, up to this point, he has heard no sounds outside of the mirrored door that shields him from the animals of the carousel and whoever it is that has decided to treat him as target practice. He is well aware of his reputation around town of being the most scared officer in the history of law enforcement. With a gunman on the loose in Graham Park, there is nowhere that Stuart would rather be than in this small room with only one way in, which he is guarding with his rifle.
A quick check of the cell phone again, it's now been twenty-six minutes since he fled for cover. Another attempt to reach Mitch and another failed connection. As he slides his phone back into his jeans pocket, he is suddenly hit with the urge to urinate. Stuart has been told for years that drinking too much coffee would be the death of him and now he's starting to think everyone was right.
He uses his back to push his body up until he is standing on his feet once again. The room is so small that the rifle is pressed against his chest now and his nose is face to face with the inside of the door. He remains motionless for a split second until he loses his balance as the entire floor he is standing on begins to rotate. What was once a silent darkness is now well lit and filled with the very loud tones of the usually joyful music that plays while the ride is in motion. He can hear the gears turning behind him, causing the poles on the outside to lift the horses and other animals as they spin around.
If the eerie silence was playing on his nerves, the noise that echoes against the walls of the tiny space is enough to drive him mad. He knows that more than likely the only way to start the ride is from the control panel where the ride operator usually sits, meaning someone is probably waiting for him once he opens the door. The floor moves faster and faster, quicker than Stuart can ever remember it going when he was a child. Is this the result of being in the middle of the ride or has whoever turned the ride on somehow been able to manipulate the speed?
Soon after contemplating the likelihood that someone was able to turn up the power of the gears, his thoughts are interrupted as his body goes into a coughing fit. The coughs are deep and bellowing, resembling that of a man who has smoked for most of his life, unlike Stuart. A quick look around and a cloud of smoke rushes at his eyes and into his face, causing him to drop his rifle and flashlight and rub furiously at his eyes. He blindly reaches for the handle to the door, opens it and stumbles out of the room. He manages to collapse across the back of a zebra, which appears to be one of the only animals on the ride that doesn't go up and down.
Now that he is out of the room and away from the smoke, he is able to rub enough of the black soot from his eyes to allow his vision to return. What was once just a dark collection of fake animals, is now lit up brightly and rotating around in record speed. The ride is moving so fast that it causes the bright colors to all bleed together into a blurry rainbow. Even without his flashlight, Stuart is able to quickly find the control panel that operates the ride. He looks down on it without the slightest idea of what any of the knobs or switches actually does. He starts turning things at random, but nothing has any effect on the ride. A turn of the red knob, a tug on the black switch, a push of the yellow button. Nothing he does will stop the ride or the annoying music that now seems to be melodically making fun of him.
Out of aggravation he gives the pedestal that holds the control panel a strong kick. A glimpse of light reflects from something on the underside of the panel and catches his eye. He drops to his knees to find a key protruding from the underside of the metal panel. He turns the key quickly and pulls it out from the machine. Instantly the ride begins to slow, and the music tapers off until the silence is returned. Stuart rushes back to the door from where he escaped and grabs his rifle and his flashlight.
Now that the ride has been shut down and the lights have once again gone dark, his flashlight leads the way as he walks through the animals looking for the ropes he found before he heard the shots. They are nowhere to be found. He finds the tiger that lost his ear to the second shot, walks completely around the carousel until he returns to the same damaged animal again. Still, he was unable to find any ropes that are tied to animals, just a few fragments hanging out below the mirrored door, that are frayed at the end. Someone has obviously been here and cut the ropes and they were really close to him when he was hiding in the room.
Once again, he pulls out his phone to check for service and returns it to his pocket with the same feeling of loneliness. A quick shine of the flashlight behind him and he wonders if it's worth the effort, or even if it's safe, for him to go hunting for the radio he lost. For a second he thinks he catches something in the mirror on the wall on the inside of the carousel. A quick turn on his heels with the flashlight still leading the way reveals that there is nothing there. Stuart stares at his own reflection in the mirror for a while, hating himself for being so scared. The top of his uniform is no longer tucked in properly and he knows if the sheriff were to see him in this condition, Sheriff Thompson would make some sort of snide remark. Stuart throws the rifle over his shoulder and tucks his flashlight under his arm. He didn't mean to do it but the fact that he pointed the beam of light away from the mirror revealed to him what caught his eye in the first place.
He stops tucking his shirt in long enough to read the message on the mirror. After shining his light on the reflective glass again, it's apparent that the message is written in some kind of glowing ink that disappears when it is seen in the light. Once the meaning of the message sinks in, Stuart drops his flashlight. His knees are shaking, and his hands are trembling as he reads the words out loud in an effort to memorize them, so he can repeat them to the others if he ever sees them again.
With the events that just happened, even the sound of his own voice sends chills down his body. The ink used to write the message appears as bright yellow and must have been very wet when it was written. Some of the ink has run down the mirror and makes some of the words harder to read than others. He reads them aloud for a third time, this time he lets each word linger in the air before reading the next. He has always had trouble remembering key facts about the cases he has dealt with in the past but there is no chance he will forget these words any time soon. They essentially put a bounty on his head, and the heads of his fellow officers.
Chapter 12
Among the numerous schematics and maps that are posted on the inside of the door, Fred finds a list of six names. Next to the name of each person is a small black and white picture with a short bio. Most of the names are hard to pronounce for him, meaning they are more than likely foreign. The info that is listed lets him know that each man is currently, or has been in the past, a member of the military in whatever country they come from.
On the large map of the park, the one that shows every ride and location of every path that
is not intended to be used by the paying public, there is a series of lines that have been drawn in red ink. Each of these lines starts at the carousel and ends with a large circle drawn around another aspect of the park. One leads to the roller coaster, another to the water park, a third to the kids rides and a final one, which has the biggest circle, ends at the Ferris Wheel.
The rest of the papers affixed to the wall are much more confusing to Fred. One appears to be the wiring schematics for the entire park. Maybe this is how someone was able to turn on the Ferris Wheel without having to contact the power company to restore the electricity to the park. He looks at most of the items with a look of confusion, not being able to decipher the words that are written on them. Either the words are too complicated for him or they are not in a language that he understands.
At the bottom of the door, almost hidden behind the large map of Graham Park, he finds a small note with some peculiar listings. At the heading of the sheet of loose leaf paper is the title: 'Rewards for souvenirs' written in black marker. Underneath the title there are several things listed in a column on the right-hand side of the paper, with a corresponding number amount on the left. Fred looks over the list and is frightened by what he sees. Even though he doesn't know the meaning of any of the information, he is frightened to find out that a head in a box is worth fifty grand according to this list. There is a dollar amount listed for almost every body part, ten grand for hands, feet and genitalia, twenty-five thousand for eyes or tongue and a hundred thousand for the heart.
The small piece of paper puts a far more serious tone to the rest of the things hanging from the door. Many of have them could have been explained in a manner that made everyone feel safe that nothing odd was happening. Now that he has found a price list for body parts, to go along with the list of names and faces, it makes even the normally macho Fred feel like a school kid who is about to enter his first haunted house.
He tears down the three pages that he wants to take along with him, the list of names, the pricing sheet and most importantly the map of the park with the lines drawn out. He folds them all neatly and stuffs them into his pocket. A few unanswered calls on the radio, a quick check of his cell phone for service and another check of the ammo in his rifle later, he closes the door to the hut and leaves the lantern inside. He would love to bring it with him, but it is far too cumbersome to try to carry it and still be able to use his rifle.
Since every line on the map originated from the large square that was drawn around the carousel, he heads in that direction. His stride is a little more hesitant after finding the information on the inside of the door. When he first set off to investigate the water park, he was almost skipping along. Now Fred is covering the distance to the carousel in a hectic pattern that includes hiding behind a large garbage can, diving headfirst behind a row of overgrown shrubs and sliding underneath a large park bench. He is not sure that all of the extra precautions are necessary but in his own mind his motions are as fluid and graceful as anyone he has ever seen in the movies.
With the carousel in sight his pace slows further. He is bent at the knees and moving as if his next step could trigger an invisible land mine, another technique he learned from the movies. As he passes the last obstacle before reaching the ride, a wooden structure that was used to sell soft-serve ice cream, the ride starts up. He retreats to the front-side of the building he is next to and presses his back up against the large piece of plywood that protects the glass windows from the hard winter. He listens intently trying to hear footsteps on the concrete but the music from the ride is loud enough that he probably wouldn't even hear another gunshot if there was one.
With a slight bend of the neck he peeks his head around the corner of the ice cream building. The lights of the carousel are bright, flashing whites, yellows and oranges pierce through the darkness and cause Fred to squint slightly. The animals on the ride are bouncing up and down and beginning to go around and round much faster than normal. Returning to the safety of the opposite side of the building, once again he checks the ammo in his rifle. Confident it is loaded properly, he lowers his body, spins on his heels and takes up a comfortable position with the barrel pointed at the ride. From this position he can cover both sides of the carousel and would be able to move the rifle with ease to point it at a potential target.
He peers down the barrel of the weapon, the cold steel pressed against his cheek, waiting to catch a glimpse of the person responsible for turning on the machine. The ride is spinning at such a rapid pace that it is hard to make out the animals individually as they pass by. Moments later a dark puff of smoke can be seen from the center of the ride, followed closely by a dark figure. It is nearly impossible to make out any distinguishing features on the figure, but he follows the person closely as they stumble through the animals and disappears behind the ride.
The rotating lights are somewhat hypnotizing to Fred as the colors swirl around. The fact that there is something very strange going on and for a second he thought the carousel was going to go up in a cloud of smoke, is lost on Fred. The calypso music, the flashing lights and the porcelain animals going up and down has forced a momentary lapse in judgement and caused him to let his guard down. The barrel of the rifle is no longer pointed at the ride and has fallen harmlessly to the concrete walkway, near where he is kneeling.
Seconds later the music begins to slow, as does the ride itself. Fred snaps back to the reality that someone turned on the ride and someone else came stumbling out from the room inside. One of the two could very easily be the person responsible for the shots he heard while he was on top of the water slide. He assumes the shooting position once more and focuses his sights on the door on the inside of the ride, the one where the dark figure escaped from.
Now that the ride is slowing, he can start to make out the brightly painted animals that pass in front of him one by one. The music that fills the air now reminds Fred of his father’s old records that he would play at the wrong speed, each note dragging out multiple beats longer than it should. Once the ride comes to a complete stop, he has a line of sight on three sides of it, but the door to the room stopped on the opposite side and is hidden to him.
Other than the brief initial sighting, he has not been able to locate the person than came rushing out of the interior room. He has no idea as to who is responsible for turning on the ride in the first place, as he was never able to get a visual on them either. Deciding that he needs to move forward so he can inspect the other side of the ride and the doorway, he stands to his feet. Fred pays close attention to the barrel of the rifle, making certain that it remains pointed in the direction of the ride. Once to his feet he is once again thrown off-guard, this time by a tap on his shoulder.
Chapter 13
Unlike most people, Mitch Thompson is not disgusted by finding a headless body chained down in the front seat of the roller coaster train. Instead, he reacts as any police officer would. His eyes scan the immediate area looking for any clues that could be laying around, he takes out his phone and snaps pictures of the body from every angle and he jots down the time that he arrived on the scene and found the body. All of this would be standard protocol in a situation like this, which would be a much more common occurrence in a large city like Portland or Seattle. In Twisted Timbers, especially during the off-season, this is a much bigger find than Mitch is used to. He can’t even remember the last time he even heard about a murder in the small town.
Now he stands in front of a decapitated body, trying to determine if it's a smart move to search the victim for any evidence. He knows that his father would frown upon touching the body, he preaches preserving a crime scene any chance he gets, but this is an active crime scene. Any and all information could be crucial to understanding what is going on in the park and might help Mitch determine what course of action to take as the night proceeds.
Considering the current circumstances, the wrath of his father fails in comparison to ending up like the body in the roller coaster car.
It's hard for Mitch to get his hands into the jeans pocket that the victim was wearing when he was killed. The positioning of the body has forced the entire weight of the torso to tighten the jeans in the area where the hips bend. After a bit of a struggle, which requires him to lower his weapon and leave it to rest on the side of the passenger car, he can reach down inside all the pockets of the victim.
There is no wallet or identification of any kind. In fact, there wasn't much inside the pockets at all. He pulled out a single folded piece of paper, a couple of shotgun shells and a utility knife. He leaves the shells and the knife on top of the lap of the victim, the identity of the man still a mystery to him. He unfolds the sheet of paper to find a list of six names and faces. Each picture is followed by an array of factual information regarding the person, including military rank and country of origin. On the reverse side of the paper there is a typed-out form, consisting of numbered lines of text that cover the entire length of the page, all below a heading that reads 'The Rules of the Game'.
Mitch is somewhat relieved to read the first rule of the game as it is listed on the paper. It states that the game will officially begin once the lights of the Ferris Wheel go out. Now he can show this to the other two officers and they will know that he was not crazy when he called in the initial sighting of the ride in operation. The last rule says that all players were to be start out on the carousel and could not begin the hunt until after the lights went out on the Ferris Wheel. He quickly scans the rest of the rules, none of which really make sense to him, and begins to fold the paper back to how it was when he found it in the pocket of his victim.
Once the note is safely in the outside shirt pocket of his police uniform, Mitch once again looks behind him to make sure he is alone. There is nobody else on the ride platform, but he can now see another part of the park is lit up. He uses the scope on his rifle to get a closer look. He raises the rifle to his left eye, closes his right eye and stares at the carousel that is functionally fully at this point. The animals are spinning around and around, and Mitch can hear the celebratory music playing in the distance.
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