by Mark Lukens
They were silent for a moment.
“Anything else?” Walter asked.
“Something came for him the other day. It was a suitcase.”
Walter just nodded, but Carol could see the small smile still on his face, a smug smile like he knew everything, like he knew every secret, but he wasn’t going to reveal anything to her.
“I think I need to see what’s inside that suitcase,” Carol told Walter.
“So look inside,” he said.
“I don’t have the key.”
“You’ve had the key all along. Look in a place close to your heart, a place that’s close to your memories of your husband.”
Carol nodded. She would look for the key when she got home. She took another sip of her tea and tried to think of a reason to excuse herself. She suddenly wanted to be out of Walter’s house very badly.
She shouldn’t have done what she did, she knew that now. But it was too far along and she didn’t know how to stop it. She didn’t know what to do. And she could tell now that Walter wasn’t going to help her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
1.
Ryan sped down the country road that twisted through the tall evergreen trees. He drove in silence; his hands gripped the steering wheel.
Amber watched him. “Where are you going?”
Ryan didn’t answer and Amber could feel a knot of fear gnawing at her.
“What is it that you remember?”
Ryan still didn’t say anything.
“Ryan!” she snapped. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know,” Ryan said in a low voice. “But I’m remembering something. I remember this road we’re on. I remember these woods. There’s something … something I need to see here.”
They drove down Winter Road and turned onto an even narrower road that cut through the woods, it was more like a back road. Ryan’s car bumped along the uneven road as the trees seemed to crowd in around them even more.
Amber was beyond nervous now and heading right towards outright fear. She liked Ryan, but she didn’t really know him as much as she thought she did – and today she realized that she didn’t really know anything about him at all.
Except that he couldn’t remember his past.
“I think I should go home,” Amber said. She never would’ve dreamed she would ever say that, she never thought she would rather be back at home with her psycho brother. But what if she was with a worse psycho right now?
She watched Ryan drive; he seemed to be watching the trees whip by, like he was studying them.
Like he was looking for something.
She wanted to tell him again that she’d like to go home, but she decided to stay quiet and just watch him. She knew that the big knife was still in the picnic basket if she needed it.
And thinking of the big knife made her wonder why he’d brought such an instrument on a picnic. To cut cheese with? Seemed like overkill to her. Maybe he had other intentions for the kitchen knife that was, if she was being honest with herself, more like a butcher knife. And out here in these woods, she couldn’t help but think of the serial killer that had terrorized Edrington ten years ago.
Ryan hit the brakes and Amber had to catch herself with her hands so she wouldn’t dive head-first into the dashboard – she still wasn’t wearing her seatbelt, and she wasn’t going to put it on now in case she needed to make a mad dash for the picnic basket.
He stared out the driver’s side window at the dark woods for a moment while the car’s motor rumbled.
Then he shifted into reverse and backed up a few car lengths, and she could see what he was looking at now. It was a trail that led into the woods; if you were speeding by you would never see it. There were two small wooden posts on each side of the beginning of the trail, nearly hidden by the brush and ferns, and strung between the wooden posts was a chain with a rusty sign dangling from it that read: No Trespassing.
Ryan put the car in drive and pulled off to the side of the road. He shut the car off and pulled the keys out of the ignition and got out. He didn’t even look at Amber; it was like he was mesmerized by the trail in the woods and all of his attention was focused on it.
Amber got out of the car. She glanced at the backseat and the picnic basket with the knife inside. She hoped the back doors were unlocked, but she didn’t dare try to open the door right now. She walked around to the back of the car and watched Ryan as he stared at the entrance to the trail.
“Ryan, you’re not thinking of going in there, are you?”
2.
Ryan stared at the trail that led into the woods. He could feel the memories wanting to come back to him now, and he was trying to hold them back, but it was like trying to hold back a bursting dam.
There’s something back there, his mind whispered. Something in those woods.
And you know what it is, his mind whispered to him.
He took a step closer to the dark woods, and then he heard Amber’s voice.
“Ryan, you’re not thinking of going in there, are you?”
Ryan didn’t answer her question. Instead, he asked her a question of his own. “There’s something back there in those woods, isn’t there?”
Amber stood motionless near the back of Ryan’s car – she wanted to be close to the car for some reason, and as far away from these woods as she could get.
“There’s some kind of … of house back there; more like a shack,” he added, still staring at the No Trespassing sign and the trail that led into the dark woods. “It’s a bad place,” he whispered.
“How do you know that?” he heard Amber whisper.
Her words broke his momentary hypnosis. He turned and looked at her and for the first time he saw how frightened she was. He watched her back up a step as he stared at her.
“There’s no way you could know that unless you’ve been here before, been in this town,” she said.
Ryan took a step towards Amber. “I can’t remember. Maybe I’ve been in this town before. I don’t know how I know, but I’m sure there’s a shack down this trail in these woods.” He glanced back at the trail into the woods and then turned back to Amber and shook his head no. “But I don’t want to go in the woods and see it,” he said, finally answering her earlier question.
He took a few more steps towards her and he could see that she was practically shaking with fear; she looked like a frightened deer ready to bolt. “I’m sorry,” he told her. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I … just … it’s just that you wanted to know about me, and there’s nothing to tell you. I can’t remember anything. I woke up in a motel room a few days ago and all I had was a handwritten note with Carol’s address on it. I came to this town, hoping it would jog my memories, but it hasn’t. Carol didn’t seem to recognize me, but I rented a room there because she must have something to do with my past or I wouldn’t have her address written down in my wallet.”
Amber just stood there staring at Ryan, watching him like someone might watch a wild animal.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered and stood right in front of her. “I don’t want you to be scared of me. I don’t want to be like your brother.” He looked into her eyes. “I just need some help.” He wanted to touch her, try and reassure her, but he was afraid he’d frightened her too much already. He nodded at his car. “I’m sorry. I’ll take you home now.”
3.
They drove out of the woods and headed back into town. Amber hadn’t said much on the way back from the woods, and he hadn’t said much, either. What could he say? He had scared the hell out of her, and he couldn’t blame her if she never wanted to see him again. When they got back to her house, he expected that she would bolt out of his car and run screaming to her brother.
Amber stared out the passenger window at the houses streaming by outside as they drove through town. She didn’t seem so scared now that they were out of the woods and back in town.
“I’m sorry, Amber,” Ryan finally said as he stopped at a traffic light. “I know you thin
k I’m crazy. I don’t blame you.”
Amber turned and stared at Ryan. She surprised him by lunging at him and grabbing on to him. She kissed his lips fiercely, clinging to him for a moment. He could feel her body shaking underneath his arms. She backed away after their intense kiss and stared at him.
“I don’t think you’re crazy,” she said in a low voice. “I think you can’t remember your past and it’s making you feel like you’re crazy. I think you need some help. And I want to help you.”
Ryan felt a pang of compassion surge through his body; it was as much of an electric feeling as her sudden kiss had just been.
A car honked its horn from behind them.
Ryan looked up and saw that the traffic light was green. He gunned the engine and drove through the light. He looked at Amber, searched her eyes to make sure that she was telling the truth. She looked right back at him. “But I want you to tell me everything you remember so far,” she said.
And Ryan told her.
He told her again how he’d woken up in the motel room with no memory of his past. But he left out a few details – the bullet hole scars on his chest, the duffel bag full of money, his certainty that someone was following him. But he told her about the piece of paper that was in his wallet with Carol’s address scrawled on it.
“I know Carol has something to do with this,” Ryan told Amber. “I just don’t know what it is. There has to be a reason that I had her address written down. I must’ve known her somehow. But I can’t remember her or anything about her. And at first she didn’t seem to know me or recognize me. But then she said some strange things. It was like she knew me, like she knew things that I liked, like my favorite foods and drinks, things I couldn’t even remember about myself.”
“I don’t know who Carol is,” Amber said. “Sorry, wrong side of town for me.”
Ryan told her more as he drove. He told her a little about his dreams, about the tortured, red-haired man who visited him in his nightmares and wanted to show him things.
“Maybe that man is a figment of your imagination,” Amber offered. “Someone your mind made up to try and show you things, to get you closer to your memories. Maybe you should follow him and see what he wants to show you.”
Ryan nodded. That sounded like good advice. But he couldn’t explain to her the fear and dread he felt when he was near that person. He was afraid of what the red-haired man wanted to show him.
“I don’t know what to do,” Ryan said. “I don’t even know where to start. I haven’t remembered anything until today in the woods. It’s like I want to remember, but I’m also afraid to remember.”
Amber nodded and thought for a moment. “I would say the first place you should start is with Carol. Like you said, she must have something to do with your past or you wouldn’t have her address in your wallet.”
Ryan nodded as he turned onto Amber’s street.
“Maybe you should snoop around her house.”
Ryan glanced at her.
Amber smiled. “It’s just a suggestion.”
“I can’t risk it. Victor and Tom are always there, and they always seem to be watching me. I can’t risk them telling Carol and getting me kicked out of the house. I know I need to be there for some reason.”
Ryan pulled up in front of Amber’s house and parked on the street. She looked at him. “Sorry I can’t stay with you. I have to go to work tonight.”
Ryan nodded – he understood.
“But I want to help you. If you think of anything I can do, just let me know.”
Ryan sighed and smiled. He did feel better now that someone else knew his secrets, like some of the weight had been lifted off of him. “I’m sorry to put you through all of this. I know you think I’m crazy.”
Amber kissed Ryan again, a gentler kiss this time, and she backed away. She looked out her passenger window at the small house, the cracked walkway, and her brother’s black pickup truck in the driveway – the truck where so much of the money from her mother had gone to.
She looked back at Ryan. “I don’t think you’re crazy. Living here with Gary, now that’s crazy.”
Amber got out of Ryan’s car and hurried up the walkway to her house.
Ryan watched her for a moment, he wanted to make sure she got inside okay and that Gary wasn’t going to give her a problem. But Gary never came to the door.
He drove away and he felt good. Amber had made him feel so much better. She wanted to help him, and he would eventually help her, he knew that. He felt a strange feeling inside; it was like something he hadn’t felt in such a long time – hope.
CHAPTER TWELVE
1.
Carol spent twenty minutes looking through her den (her husband’s study) until she found a key hidden away in a jar on one of the bookcases. The jar had been filled with other odds and ends, but when she emptied it out she saw a small gold key on a ring. That must be the key to the suitcase, she thought, yet she wasn’t sure why she was so certain.
You know why you’re so certain, her mind whispered.
But she didn’t want to listen to that voice right now.
She needed to see inside that suitcase. She needed to be sure of things.
She slipped the key into her front pants pocket and left the den.
Carol went to the front door and opened it. She stepped out onto the front porch to check the driveway and make sure that Ryan hadn’t come back yet. His car wasn’t in the driveway. She went back inside, locked the front door, and then headed for the stairs.
In the hallway, she stood in front of Ryan’s bedroom door. She glanced down the hall to make sure no one was spying on her through a cracked open doorway. She took the spare key to the bedroom out of her pocket and slid it in the keyhole, trying to be as quiet as possible, yet move as quickly as possible – the longer she stayed out in the hallway, the more of a chance Victor or Tom might see her.
The lock clicked as she turned the key. The clicking noise sounded so loud in the hallway, it seemed to echo off the high ceilings and narrow walls. She pulled the key out with a trembling hand. She wasn’t surprised that she was trembling – she was nervous, she had to admit that to herself. She opened the door and slipped inside Ryan’s room.
She closed the door and stood there for a moment with her back to the door. She had expected Ryan to be in the room for a split second, waiting for her, the window would be open from where he’d crept up the tree branches. He would have a twisted smile on his face and insanity in his eyes as he ran at her.
But he wasn’t there.
Carol peeled herself away from the door and moved into action. She walked to the closet and looked inside; there was nothing inside the closet except for a few clothes on hangers and a duffel bag crumpled up in the corner. She picked up the duffel bag – it was completely empty. It looked like the duffel bag he had come here with, his only piece of luggage as he had said. Probably had these clothes in it, she thought.
The only odd thing about the duffel bag was the musty odor it had. The clothes smelled clean – in fact, they looked new – but the bag seemed old and musty.
She set the bag back down in the corner, trying to crumple it like it had been. She didn’t see the brown suitcase in the closet.
Under the bed, she thought.
She hurried over to the bed and bent down. She saw the brown suitcase lying flat underneath the bed. She pulled it out by its smooth wooden handle. She lifted it up onto the bed and laid it flat. The suitcase was somewhat heavy, but not too heavy for her to lift, maybe like a suitcase full of clothes. As she hefted it, she felt something moving around inside, like something liquid moving back and forth. And she’d heard a faint tinkling sound inside, like metal objects bumping into each other. She didn’t remember these things when she’d picked up the suitcase from the front porch – she was pretty sure she would’ve remembered something like that.
She pulled the small key on the ring out of her pocket. The key seemed small enough to fit the two padlocks on
each strap; the key even seemed like it was the same gold color as the padlocks.
With trembling fingers, she tried the padlock.
The first one unlocked.
She unlocked the other one and slipped the key back inside her pants pocket. The padlocks were unlocked, all she had to do now was remove the padlocks and the straps and open the suitcase.
Why was she hesitating?
She couldn’t stay up here too long. She knew Ryan wasn’t working anymore, Buddy had told her that. She didn’t know where Ryan was right now or when he would be back. She needed to hurry.
She took off the padlocks and unstrapped the suitcase. She opened it up and stared down at the contents as the breath left her body for a moment and everything in her peripheral vision faded to black, like she was staring down a tunnel at the open suitcase on the bed.
And she didn’t move for a long moment, she just stared down at the suitcase in horror and disbelief.
This couldn’t be true, her mind whispered. This couldn’t be possible.
And another sudden thought occurred to her – she was pretty sure she was going to throw up. She could feel her stomach churning and the bitter taste of bile at the back of her throat.
Just then she heard the gravel in her driveway crunching as a car pulled up.
Ryan was back!
2.
Ryan was still feeling good when he got back to Carol’s house. It felt so good to have Amber’s support, for Amber to know about him, about his secrets.
Some of his secrets, anyway.
He pulled up into the driveway and he heard the now familiar sound of the gravel crunching under his tires. He parked behind the two vehicles that never seemed to move. One was Carol’s car, he assumed. The other one must belong to either Victor or Tom. He thought of peeking in the windows of the cars, begin his snooping there, but he didn’t think that would accomplish much.
He didn’t really know what to do next.