One Last Scream

by Kevin O'Brien

Karen nodded. “Koehler’s tall and good-looking with pale-blond hair. He’s got a very cocky smile….”

  “Are his eyes blue?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Karen whispered, leaning forward.

  “His eyes match the blue stripes in his shirt,” Amelia murmured, staring down at the tabletop.

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “I make him take it off and tear it into strips,” Amelia continued, almost in a trance. “He ties the pieces of his shirt onto branches in the forest. They’re markers. I–I’ll need to find my way back to the main trail after I kill him.”

  Karen swallowed hard. She waited a moment before saying anything. “What forest, Amelia?”

  She gazed at Karen. Her lip quivered. “This really happened, didn’t it? Oh, Jesus!”

  A student one desk down loudly cleared his throat and scowled over his textbook at them.

  “I need you to remember, Amelia,” Karen whispered. She stroked her arm. “It’ll be okay. We’re going to work this out. Do you remember where you where? What forest?”

  “God, Karen, you must be right,” Amelia said, under her breath. “I don’t remember being at your house at all, but I was with him. We were driving for long time. He was worried about me spilling coffee in his new car. I remember keeping my purse shut and in my lap most of the time. I–I didn’t want him to see that I had a gun in there.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense. Karen, I don’t own a gun….”

  “You mentioned Olympic National Park,” Karen pressed. “Was this forest anywhere around there?”

  Tears brimmed in her eyes. “No. Oh, God, Karen, this is so screwed up. How could I think I was in one place and be in another? I didn’t have anything to drink at all yesterday, I swear….”

  “We’ll straighten all that out. Just try to remember where you went with Koehler.”

  “Cougar Mountain Park, over in Issaquah,” she replied numbly. “It’s nowhere near where I thought I was. But I remember the signs for the park. We walked at least a mile before we veered off the trail.”

  “They have a lot of hiking trails there. Do you recall which one it was? Did it have a name?”

  Amelia shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

  “Do you remember where you parked, or the name of the road you took there? Anything?”

  Amelia closed her eyes for a moment. “It was, um, Newcastle-Coal Creek Road,” Amelia whispered. “I remember the turnoff. We went to the fourth or fifth little parking area off that road. At the start of the trail, there’s a small sign with a cartoon of Dennis the Menace on it. I don’t remember what the sign said, but someone wrote on it. We-we were parked there for a while. He started touching me, and I–I hit him!” Her voice cracked. “God, I hit him with that gun.”

  Several people shushed her. Karen quickly helped Amelia to her feet. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

  “And then later, in the forest, I shot him.” Amelia cried, clutching Karen’s arm. “He was begging for his life and I shot him in the head….”

  People were staring as Karen hurried Amelia down the aisle between the rows of tables. By the time they stepped outside together, Amelia was sobbing and recounting-in fragments-what had happened in that forest. She’d left Koehler’s seminaked corpse where she’d shot him four times. She’d found her way back to the main trail, but didn’t remember removing any of the homemade markers from the branches and shrubs along the way. She’d taken Koehler’s car, and by then it had grown dark. She didn’t remember anything until she was back in Seattle, catching a bus in a sketchy neighborhood along Aurora Boulevard.

  “I don’t understand it,” Amelia said, shaking her head over and over. They sat down on a park bench outside the library. “I woke up this morning at a B amp; B all the way over in Port Angeles. I could have sworn I spent all of yesterday there. Karen, if you saw me with this man yesterday, and I remember all these horrible things, then they must have really happened. Do you see what that means? I killed this guy. And I probably killed my parents and Aunt Ina and my brother-”

  “We don’t know that yet,” Karen said, rubbing her back. “You could be wrong about what happened to Koehler. You can’t hold yourself accountable, not until I’ve looked into this further. Are you listening to me? You’re not responsible for killing anyone, Amelia. We’ll work this out together, but you’ll have to trust me.”

  Amelia’s cell phone went off-a low hum. Wiping her eyes, she reached inside her purse and checked the caller ID. “It’s that policewoman again, the one you told me about,” she said, her voice raspy. “Same number as last time.”

  “Don’t answer it. I don’t want you talking to her or anyone else until we figure out what really happened. Let her leave another message.” She patted Amelia’s arm. “Listen, I think it’s best you lay low and stay at my place tonight. But I need to check out your story first.”

  “What, are you driving to Port Angeles?”

  “No, Cougar Mountain Park.” She glanced up at the sky. “And I’d like to get there before dark.”

  “You can’t go alone,” Amelia said. “I should go with you.”

  “No, you shouldn’t. If something really did happen in that forest yesterday, you’re in no condition to relive it. I’ll be back by six if traffic isn’t too nuts.” Karen got to her feet, and so did Amelia. “You’ll probably need some overnight things. Let’s swing by the dorm. We’ll call Shane and see if he can take you someplace for the next two or three hours. Maybe you guys can take in a movie.”

  Amelia nodded. She pressed the keypad on her cell phone, and then listened to her voice mail. “Oh, no,” she murmured. “That policewoman, she and her partner are at the dorm now, waiting for me.”

  “What?” Karen asked.

  “She said she’s calling from the lobby downstairs at Terry Hall, and they want to ask me some questions.”

  “Damn,” she whispered, rubbing her forehead. “Okay, call Shane. Tell him we need him to do something for us right away.”

  Twenty-five minutes later, Shane emerged from the crowd in Red Square, the campus’s redbrick-paved central plaza and hub. He ambled toward them with a backpack slung over his shoulder. His blond hair was covered up with a stocking cap, and he wore a T-shirt over a long-sleeved T, and baggy jeans.

  Jumping up from the park bench, Amelia ran to Shane and embraced him. They kissed feverishly. Amelia broke away, nodded toward Karen, and whispered something to him. Then holding hands, they approached her together.

  Karen stood up. “Thanks, Shane. Did you have any problems?”

  “Pulled it off without a hitch,” he said with a crooked grin. “You were right though, Karen. The two of them were sitting in the lobby-a nice-looking black chick, and this older white guy with Donald Trump hair. They looked like total narcs. But they hardly paid any attention to my coming and going.”

  “Did you remember my robe?” Amelia asked with her arm linked around his. “And my copy of Washington Square? I need it for English Lit.”

  He kissed her forehead and pointed to his backpack. “It’s all in there, along with your black jeans, the pink T-shirt you sleep in, and everything else you wanted. I called the Neptune Theater while I was in your room. They’re showing a new print of The 400 Blows at 4:15. We’re all set.”

  Karen glanced up at the sky, and guessed she only had about an hour of sunlight left. She didn’t want to start hiking down that forest trail after dusk. “Um, Shane, can I talk to you for a moment?” she asked.

  “Sure, Karen, what’s up?” he said, uncoupling with Amelia for a moment, and stepping toward her.

  “I need you to be very, very careful,” she whispered. “This may sound strange, but-”

  “Are you telling him that I’m dangerous?” Amelia asked in a loud voice.

  Karen looked at her and sighed. “Amelia-”

  “You should. He won’t believe it if I tell him.” Her voice cracked. “So warn him, Karen. Tell him to watch out for me. I don’t want to hurt hi
m, okay?”

  Karen patted Shane’s shoulder. “Amelia’s right,” she said in a low voice. “You need to keep an eye on her. If you notice a sudden change or a severe mood swing, call me.”

  He chuckled. “Are you shitting me, Karen?”

  “I’m serious, Shane,” she whispered. “You have my number, don’t you?

  He nodded. The lopsided smile ran away from his face.

  “Stay in public places with her,” Karen warned. “Make sure there are always other people around. Don’t let her out of your sight for a minute. I’ll see you in two or three hours.”

  “Okay, Karen, sure thing,” he murmured. He looked like a hurt, confused little boy as he backed away from her. He slung his arm around Amelia again, and gave her another kiss on the forehead.

  “Whatever she told you,” Amelia said, “it’s true. Okay?”

  “Sure, it’s cool,” he muttered. But he wouldn’t look at Karen. “C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get out of here. We’ll be late for the movie.”

  They started walking away. Amelia glanced over her shoulder. “Karen, be safe, okay?”

  She nodded, and then watched them merge into the crowd of people mingling around Red Square. Karen glanced up at the sky again, and saw clouds moving across the slate-colored horizon. She didn’t have much time.

  All too soon, it would be dark.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The other cars on Newcastle-Coal Creek Road had their headlights on. Karen reluctantly switched her lights on, too. It was like admitting defeat. She’d hoped to reach the hiking trail in Cougar Mountain Park before nightfall. But traffic on I-90 had been miserable, and the thirty-mile trip had taken nearly two hours.

  Now it grew darker by the minute. Driving along the snaky, wooded road, she’d passed three parking areas for hikers and other visitors entering the wildlife area. Only a few cars occupied those lots, a bad sign, not many hikers left. As much as she didn’t need an audience for this gruesome expedition, Karen loathed the thought of being completely alone in those woods. It would have been nice to know someone was at least within screaming distance.

  Karen slowed down as she drove past the fourth parking area: only one car, and no signs posted by the trail. Amelia had said they’d pulled into the fourth or fifth bay.

  Biting her lip, Karen watched for the next parking area. She almost missed it, and had to slam on the brakes to turn in to the small, unlit alcove. There were only six spaces, and no other cars. She couldn’t even see the beginning of a trail. But then it was awfully dark.

  She reached into the glove compartment for the flashlight, and then climbed out of the car. She glanced over at the trees and bushes bordering the alcove, and finally noticed a gap in the foliage. She saw a sign with a cartoon of Dennis the Menace, carrying a backpack. From the distance, Karen couldn’t read it in the dark. She shined the flashlight on it: “Don’t Be a Litterbug!” Someone had crossed out the Don’t. It was just as Amelia had said.

  Karen couldn’t help wondering if everything else Amelia had told her would turn out to be true.

  She kept the flashlight on, took a deep breath, and started down the trail. She could hear some people talking not very far away, and that made her feel a bit safer, but only for a few minutes. Soon, she saw them heading toward her, a middle-aged couple wearing hiking gear. They gave her a puzzled look, and Karen realized how odd she must have appeared, on a hiking trail, dressed in her black blazer and slacks, and a blue tuxedo blouse. “You aren’t just getting started, are you?” the man asked with concern.

  “I’m only going for a mile or so,” Karen said. “There are still other hikers around, aren’t there?”

  “I think you have the place to yourself,” the man replied. “We’re finishing up.”

  “Be careful,” the woman said ominously. “There are bears in these woods at night, and cougars. It’s not called Cougar Mountain Park for nothing.”

  “Thanks,” Karen said with a pale smile. “Good night.”

  They continued on, and Karen could hear the woman clicking her tongue against her teeth. “Stupid girl…at this hour…Just wait, we’ll hear it on the news tomorrow that she’s missing or dead.”

  Karen trudged on through the gloomy woods. She kept the flashlight directed on the path in front of her. She guessed it would be at least another five minutes before she should start looking for the trail markers Amelia had told her about.

  She didn’t hear anyone else in the forest, just leaves and bushes rustling in the night wind. Karen felt dread in the pit of her stomach. She tried to brace herself for what she might find. Having volunteered at the rest home for the last few months, she’d seen her share of dead bodies, and had cleaned up blood after several messy accidents. She told herself that she could get through this. She simply had to be dispassionate about it. And, if she found Koehler’s corpse, she would turn around, go back to her car, and call George. The two of them would figure out what to do from there.

  She started shining the light on the bushes and trees that hovered over both sides of the crude, snakelike path. She didn’t see any trail markers, just a few squirrels and raccoons. Their eyes looked iridescent in the flashlight’s glow as they gazed at her, and then scurried away. Karen checked her wristwatch. Only 6:20, but it felt like midnight. If she didn’t find one of Amelia’s markers by 6:35, she’d quit and turn back.

  She almost tripped on a tangle of tree roots across her path. And then she heard something that made her stop. Twigs snapped underfoot. “Is anyone there?” Karen called. The noise was unmistakably someone-or something-prowling through the bushes. They didn’t stop, and they didn’t answer her, either. “Hello?” Karen called nervously.

  She directed the flashlight in the general area where the noise was coming from. But she didn’t see anyone. The sound was fading. The trees and bushes seemed to move as the beam of light swept across them. Then Karen saw it-only a few feet away. A piece of white fabric with a blue stripe was tied to the low-hanging branch of a small, bare brittle-looking tree. She made her way through the brush to get a closer look. She remembered the fabric pattern from yesterday. Koehler had said it was his lucky shirt.

  Standing very still, she listened for a moment. Whatever she’d heard earlier, it was gone now. Karen shined the light in the trees, searching for the second piece of Koehler’s lucky shirt. She found it through the thick overgrowth, about thirty feet away. She seemed headed in the right direction, but there was no real path. It was nearly impossible to navigate her way in the dark. At one point, she walked right into a branch, and just missed scratching her eye. Touching her cheek, she glanced at her fingertip and saw blood. “Good one, Karen,” she muttered, pressing on.

  Part of her wanted to turn back. Amelia had been right about everything so far. Karen knew she was close to finding Koehler’s corpse. Did she really need to see it? Once she set eyes on it, she’d have to call the police. And then how would she be any help to Amelia?

  Still, she forged ahead, following one trail marker after another. She’d counted seventeen of them, and guessed by now she was about a quarter of a mile off the trail she’d started on. Karen found another rough trail, and then came upon a clearing, a little bald spot in the woods, no more than ten or twelve square feet. With her flashlight, she scanned the tree branches for the next marking, but there wasn’t one. She had no idea which direction to go from there.

  Something darted across the ground in front of her. Karen gasped and tried to catch a look at it with her flashlight. But the thing scampered by so quickly all she saw was a shadow before it was gone. “Relax,” she said to herself. “Probably just a rabbit.”

  She still had the flashlight directed on the forest floor when she noticed something else amid the leaves, twigs, and dirt. One part of the ground was darker, as if stained. The leaves were a different color. Karen took a step closer. Something smelled horrible-like death. She knew that putrid odor from the nursing home. It filled the room when a patient had died.


  With the light shining on that dark patch, she could see some of the leaves were the burgundy color of dried blood. Part of the ground was covered with a slimy substance that had attracted bugs. Was this where Amelia had left Koehler’s corpse? No doubt, some person or thing had been there for a while. It had started to decay before being moved. Karen wondered if a bear, or maybe even a cougar, had dragged off the carcass.

  The fetid smell was too much for her, and she backed away. Shaking, she felt sick to her stomach.

  Karen took a few deep breaths, then scanned the forest floor with the flashlight’s beam. She was looking for a mound of dirt that might indicate a grave, or maybe even a piece of clothing. But there was nothing.

  Still, she knew Amelia must have killed Koehler on this spot. It was where the lucky-shirt markers ended.

  She heard something-a rustling sound, and twigs snapping again. She made a wide arc around the slimy patch of ground and directed the flashlight into the woods on the other side. The sound seemed to be coming from that direction. Karen could see only the first row of illuminated bushes and trees. Beyond that, it was just blackness. She thought she saw a bush move. Or was it just the shadows playing a trick on her. “Who’s there?” she called.

  The rustling noise abruptly stopped. Karen realized no forest creature would freeze up like that. This was a person.

  She was paralyzed for a moment, waiting for the next sound.

  All at once, there was a shuffling noise, footsteps.

  Karen turned and ran, but suddenly the ground seemed to slip out from under her. She fell backward into that oily patch of leaves and dirt. She let out a sharp cry. The flashlight had rolled out of her hands, and she desperately scurried along the ground to retrieve it. Then she struggled to her feet. Leaves stuck to her clothes. As she frantically brushed them away, she felt that slimy, jelly-like substance that had come from Russ Koehler’s decaying corpse.

  Karen could hear the footsteps coming closer. She spotted the last marker, tied to the bough of a bush by the crude pathway. She ran toward it, and anxiously searched for the next marker. All the while, she could hear that rustling behind her, pursuing her. The trail suddenly disappeared, and so did the markers. Panic stricken, Karen waved the flashlight around, hoping to find a piece of Koehler’s shirt on a nearby tree or shrub. Without them, she couldn’t hope to find her way back to the main trail.