by A. R. Wise
“Do you really think she changed her name or something? Or just happened to be named Alma Harper and then made up a story about how she was the same kid that was here when the fog covered the town? For fuck’s sake, pal, the whole reason we’re here is because the two of them over there,” he motioned towards Rachel and Stephen, “wanted to do a story on Widowsfield. They came looking for Alma, not the other way around. She’s been trying to avoid this place ever since her mom brought her back here.”
“This can’t be,” said Oliver as he continued to deny the truth.
“Yes it can. Someone lied to you.”
Oliver’s confusion suddenly ceased, and his expression turned to anger. “Son of a bitch! Come with me, we have to go to my office.” He used the gun to motion for Paul to go back out the door. “No arguments. We have to move fast. I have to find Lee’s notebook.”
Widowsfield
February 23rd, 2007
Nia felt nauseous as she walked past the circle of candles that were set out on the kitchen floor. The red candle was overturned, and Oliver had poured out some of the wax to mimic the moment when Alma Harper was forced to perform the Chaos Magick that ignited her memory of her brother. She could smell a myriad of scents, but none as strong as the acrid stench of meth.
Oliver and Lee had made Nia focus on the upstairs bedroom first, and she recounted the tragedy that had taken place there. She told them about Terry’s death, and they explained that they had found her body here after the incident.
Lee constantly sketched what Nia recounted. Oliver paced, and would stare over Lee’s shoulder as he pointed out inconsistencies or asked questions about certain details.
Mindy refused to come in, still incensed by what Nia had revealed about their friend, Becky. After nearly an hour of recreating the scene, Mindy came in and asked if it would be okay for her to walk back to the compound, but Nia pleaded with her to at least stay someplace nearby, to which Mindy agreed.
After an exhausting and debilitating recollection of the events that led to Terry’s death, Oliver requested that Nia focus on the day that Amanda Harper had brought her daughter back to this cabin. He led Nia to the kitchen, where a circle of candles had been set up and a number was written in the center of them.
“We need to know why Alma and her mother were here,” said Oliver as he shadowed Nia. “What were they doing, and how was Alma able to communicate with the souls here?”
“Don’t you have video of it?” asked Nia.
“We have video, but not audio,” said Lee. “They only set up the hidden cameras back then.”
“That’s right,” said Oliver, although he didn’t sound sure of himself. “We need to know what she was saying.”
Nia did her best to recollect the scene. “Alma remembered her brother, but her mother didn’t believe her. She was furious, and accused Alma of murdering Ben. She said that Alma worked with Michael. Does that name make sense?”
“Michael Harper,” said Lee. “That was Alma and Ben’s father. Amanda Harper drove out to see him just before she came here, and shot him dead.”
“That’s right,” said Oliver, but again sounded mystified.
“We need to know as much about Alma as possible,” said Lee. “Including how she died.” The lithe man took out the blue notebook and started taking notes.
Nia glanced at the camera equipment that was recording the scene from where she had said the television used to sit. She stared into the eye of the camera, oddly disturbed by the way the lens rotated as it looked back at her. Oliver made certain to record everything that happened in the cabin, but said he still preferred that he or Lee keep meticulous notes as well. It was easier to reference the notepad than search through videos when trying to recall details.
Also, Lee was a decent artist, and did a great job of sketching the scenes that Nia described. His recreations of the various spots around town had made it much easier for Oliver to direct the construction crew as to how to set up everything.
“She died?” asked Nia.
Lee nodded. He appeared sad as he recounted the story of the murder-suicide of Amanda Harper and her daughter. He explained that even the national news had run stories about the tragedy at the time.
“That’s why we have to go there next,” said Lee.
“Where?” asked Nia.
“To the spot where Amanda drove her car off the cliff. We want to know everything that happened that day, down to the most miniscule detail,” said Lee as Oliver nodded in agreement.
After spending more time recounting the scene in the cabin, Oliver, Nia, and Lee met with Mindy outside, and they all loaded into the van. Lee and Mindy sat in the back, while Nia sat up front as Oliver drove. It was a fifteen minute drive up a winding road to a rest stop that looked as if it hadn’t seen a visitor in well over a decade. This area was on the outskirts of Widowsfield, but still within the area that Cada E.I.B. owned. The Jackson Reservoir was now private property, and even the hydro-electric dam was owned by Oliver’s employer.
They pulled the van up to a parking spot that overlooked a damaged section of railing. The guard rail was bent outward, and a rusted length of it hung out over the cliff’s edge. It was a beautiful location, allowing tourists to gaze out over the lake and let the setting sun’s rays warm their backs. The cliff was high enough that its shade covered the lake before the sun had even set, which is how it looked now as they all got out of the van.
A cool breeze rustled the limbs of nearby trees. The trees sprouted new buds in anticipation of spring. Oliver led Nia to the railing and then knelt beside the rusted metal. “Here’s where it happened,” he said as he ran his finger over the curve of the railing. “Amanda Harper drove her car right off this cliff because she couldn’t stand the loss of her boy any longer.”
“And took her daughter with her,” added Lee.
Oliver nodded and repeated faintly, “And took her daughter with her.”
“Mind if I…” Nia reached out to touch the railing.
“No, go right ahead,” said Oliver as he moved back a few inches. They were both crouched as the gentle breeze brushed debris across the parking lot. “That’s why you’re here after all.”
Nia waited until Lee was ready to draw, and then leaned forward to touch the railing. She recounted the event, and described how terrified Alma had been as the vehicle careened off the edge of the cliff and down to the water below. Nia spared no detail, even describing how the catfish waited a day before beginning to nibble at Alma’s corpse, pulling the flesh off the girl’s face one strip at a time.
“They didn’t know she was down there for several weeks,” said Lee. “We own the land here, so no one knew the car had gone over the cliff until pieces of the bodies floated over the dam and got caught in the grates.”
“Awful,” said Oliver. “Just awful.”
“That’s all I can remember about that day,” said Nia. “But there’s something else weird about this spot; about this whole area.”
“What’s that?” asked Oliver.
“Well, I’m getting flashes of this spot from back in 1996, at the same time as the rest of the town.”
“And?” asked Oliver, prodding Nia to continue.
“What I’m seeing doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.” She gazed out over the lake.
Lee got his pencil ready to record what Nia said. “Go on.”
She pointed out to the middle of the lake. “I see a Navy ship in the middle of the lake, and it’s enormous.”
Oliver and Lee looked at one another before Oliver said, “Describe it.”
“It’s got to be three, maybe four hundred feet long. It’s hard to tell from way up here, but it’s absolutely massive. I can’t imagine how they ever managed to get it out here. It’s way too big to make it down any of the rivers here. They must’ve built it, right out on this lake. Does that make any sense?”
“Doesn’t matter,” said Oliver.
Nia stood, concerned by Oliver’s sudden chang
e of attitude. The once affable man now appeared disaffected and annoyed. “Did I say something to upset you?”
“Not really,” said Oliver. “I just hate this part.”
“What part is that?” asked Nia.
Lee took out a pistol, and before anyone had a chance to react he pointed it at Mindy and pulled the trigger. Nia’s friend fell dead immediately, a hole in the center of her forehead.
Nia screamed as Lee pointed the gun at her and fired.
Oliver sighed and said, “That part. Come on, Lee, let’s weigh them down and feed the catfish.”
“My pleasure,” said Lee as he put the gun back in his shoulder holster.
Chapter 25 – Lies, Liars, and Dead Girls
I’m just about to head out to Widowsfield. It’s not quite midnight on the 12th of March, 2012. I would stay at the hotel another day, but my funds from my time in Widowsfield dried up long ago, and hotels aren’t cheap!
I’ll camp up on the cliff overlooking the Jackson Reservoir, out where the ship had been built. I now know that the ship itself had something to do with the fog, but I’ve never been able to figure out how.
There’s no ship there now, and when I did some research I discovered that it had been a World War Two battleship. It was rebuilt in the reservoir as a tourist attraction, and was disassembled shortly after the event that caused everyone in town to disappear.
Part of me is terrified that I’ll come back here one anniversary and find the ship is back in the water. I dread that day.
Lost in Widowsfield
“I know where we have to go,” said Alma.
Jacker was driving the van as they headed out of Widowsfield. “What?” he asked as he tapped his fingers on the wheel. “Aren’t we headed home?”
“No,” said Alma. “Stop the van!”
“What’s wrong?” asked Rachel.
“We’ve done this before,” said Alma. “We’ve done it hundreds of times. I can prove it.” She closed her eyes. “Coming up behind us is a blue Ford sedan. A man that looks like a younger version of my father will be driving, and a little girl will be in the back seat. They’re going to be driving fast, and will force you off the road if you don’t stop.”
Jacker glanced in his side mirror and muttered, “Son of a bitch.”
“What?” asked Stephen as he turned to look out of the van just as the blue sedan rocketed past.
“There, see!” Alma pointed, but was shocked to see that the child sitting in the back seat wasn’t a little girl; it was Ben. He grinned at the van as the Ford passed by.
“You were close,” said Jacker. “But that’s a little boy in the back seat.”
“How did you know that a blue sedan would be…” Rachel started to ask, perplexed by Alma’s odd behavior.
“Forget the kid,” she said as she tried to ignore the odd change. “Just try to remember anything that happened in Widowsfield. You won’t be able to because we’ve been trapped in it for years now, I guess. I don’t know, my head is filled with all sorts of horrible things that I know happened to us here. I don’t know how to explain it.” She was starting to cry when she looked down at Aubrey.
The young bartender smiled back, but her eyes were covered in a thick gel. Alma used her thumb to wipe the jelly off, but Aubrey didn’t react at all other than to smile up at anyone that looked at her.
“What in the hell?” asked Rachel as she examined the girl. “What’s wrong with her?”
“Holy shit,” said Stephen as he leaned over his seat.
“She’s dead,” said Alma.
“No she’s not,” said Rachel. “She’s breathing! What’s gotten into you, Alma?”
“We can’t help her. You have to trust me, we have to get her out of the van. I’m not sure if Terry’s still in Widowsfield or if she crossed over.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?” asked Jacker. He pulled the van off on the shoulder of the road and opened his door to get out and come around.
“You have to trust me,” said Alma. “We have to leave Aubrey here and head out to the reservoir. We have to do it before The Watcher in the Walls finds us. We have to go now!”
“Talk about a mental breakdown,” said Stephen.
“Wait, wait,” said Rachel. “She’s right. I can’t remember anything about being in Widowsfield. Why are we on our way back home if we never even stopped in the town.”
Jacker made his way around the van to the side door that Alma was sitting near. He slid the door open and was prepared to pull Alma out because of her erratic behavior.
“Hold on, man,” said Stephen before Jacker could do anything. “Something’s wrong here.”
“Yeah, no doubt,” said Jacker.
“No, I mean, Alma and Rachel are right. I can’t remember anything about being in Widowsfield.”
Alma stepped out of the van and grabbed Jacker by his shirt. She forced him to look at her as she asked, “How do we know each other?”
“What has gotten into you, girl?”
She shook him and asked again. “How do we know each other? You can’t tell me because you don’t know. This place stole someone from us, someone named Paul.” She dug into her pocket and retrieved her keys. She showed Jacker the teddy bear that was attached by a ring to her keys. “He gave me this, and he introduced us to each other. I’m sure of it, but something in this town is trying to make me forget him.” She turned back to the van and looked at Aubrey, whose glassy eyes stared back at her as the girl smiled. “Aubrey, I’m so sorry. I really am, but we have to leave you here. Guys, you have to trust me. We have to leave her here and go…”
“We can’t just leave her!” Jacker yelled over Alma. “She’s sick or something. I’m not leaving the kid on the side of the damn road!”
“We’ll call an ambulance,” said Rachel.
“You can’t,” said Alma. “Your cell phone won’t work. None of ours will. You have to trust me, please!”
“She’s right,” said Stephen as he got out of the van as well. He was holding his smart phone, and showed it to Jacker. “It’s just a blank screen.”
Jacker reached into his pocket and took out his phone only to discover that it didn’t work either. “Fuck me,” he muttered before running his hand through his shaggy hair.
“I know it doesn’t make sense, but you’re going to have to do what I ask. We’ll leave Aubrey sitting here by the side of the road, and if I’m wrong then we’ll come right back and pick her up.”
“Where is it you want to go?” asked Stephen.
“To the north side of town. To the Jackson Reservoir.”
“Why there?” asked Jacker.
“Because that’s where the witch told me to go. I know it sounds insane, but that’s what this place is.” She almost laughed as she pointed back at Widowsfield. “It’s one giant insane asylum in there, and there’s one creature controlling all of it. The only place that’s safe is the reservoir. Listen, we don’t have time to argue. Any minute the fog is going to come over the town, and once that happens we’ll be lost again. Aubrey has to stay here because she possessed or something.”
“I say we trust her,” said Rachel. “What the hell else are we supposed to do?”
Stephen nodded. “I agree.”
“This is nuts,” said Jacker.
“You’re outvoted, big guy,” said Stephen.
Jacker stared at the young bartender and then shook his head. “Sorry guys, this is my van. I’m not just dumping the kid off on the side of the road. I don’t care what you say.”
“What if you let me drive,” said Alma. “And you can stay in the back with her. If she starts to convulse, or says anything bizarre, then we’ll pull over and get away from her. Does that sound fair?”
Jacker shrugged and said, “Yeah, I guess so.”
Alma got out and Jacker took her place in the back seat, forcing Aubrey and Rachel to squeeze tightly together. “Wait,” said Rachel. “You sit in the middle Jacker. That way you can push Aubre
y out if she starts to freak out.”
Alma closed the door and went around to the driver’s seat, leaving Jacker and Rachel in the back to situate themselves. As she was climbing in, she glanced around in search of the grey or white fog that she knew would envelope the town any minute. The area seemed oddly calm, unlike any of the various memories she had of what had happened to them here.
“I’m not crazy,” said Alma before opening the driver’s side door. She sounded as if she were trying to convince herself of the fact as she said again, “I’m not crazy.”
Alma wasn’t sure of anything anymore; least of which her own sanity.
Inside Cada E.I.B.’s Facility
March 13th, 2012
“Just keep moving,” said Oliver as he led Paul through the complex. They went back up to the main level and were careful that no one else was around as they snuck past the cafeteria where Tom’s body still lay. Oliver led Paul to an office near the entrance, and locked the door once they were inside.
“What are we doing here?” asked Paul.
“I need to figure out the truth,” said Oliver.
“Truth about what?” asked Paul.
Oliver sat down at the desk and opened a drawer on his left side. He paused, and then took a piece of paper off the desk to use like a cloth, shielding his fingertips from whatever he was retrieving. He was holding the pistol in his right hand as he used his left to pull out a small, spiral notebook with a blue cover. He dropped it on the table. He set the paper down and pointed at the notebook. “Pick that up.”
“The notebook?”
“Yes, pick it up.”
“What for?” asked Paul.
“Because I have a gun pointed at you and I’m telling you to.”
Paul obliged, and flipped through the innocuous pages. “There’re drawings in it, and notes about the town.”
“Right. Now tell me about your girlfriend.”
“Alma?”
“Yes, yes. Tell me what you remember about her.”