Hazy View: Souls of the Vanished

by Ink Blood

  “Maybe he’s trapped on a ledge after he fell.”

  Andrew anchored his rope around a large tree some distance from the edge. “Then we go down, don't you think.”

  “I'll go down with you deputy.” The volunteer offered.

  *~*~*

  *VII*

  Helen James-Leigh sat on her new porch watching rain fall. Wind swept dead leaves across short grass. She curled up into her coat, hugs a hot cup of cocoa, and sipped it occasionally.

  Helen was a twenty-six year old, newly divorced mother who had just moved into her new home. Her shoulder length brown wavy hair played in the wind. She was slightly chubby. A pair of glasses rested neatly on her nose.

  From a distance a sorrowful, desperate cry swept across the water. Helen took note. It wasn’t her daughter, but a young child on the lake. A high-pitch scream broke off and started again as a shriek of stark terror. Helen was down the steps making her way across the lawn to a private pier jotting out across the water.

  It was dark, occasional lightning lit her way. Rain hammered her head and soaked her coat. A terrified scream came from a small rowboat close to her pier. The sound of a struggle and oars hitting water echoed in the wind. With renewed haste Helen reached the pier. Hidden behind a curtain of rain two silhouettes were barely visible. A breathless scream a fear invoked voice echoed in the wind. Helen readied her small motorboat and glanced back at the house. Darkness still overwhelmed the house. She boarded the boat.

  A Ghastly high-pitch eruption of rage, a hideous cry of a different source froze her for a second. A thick mist formed on the water.

  The engine started.

  Nearing the rowboat a strange light shone, it vanished and appeared.

  The shriek deafened her.

  Then silence.

  The light vanished, her heart pounded so hard that she felt slightly dizzy.

  She opened the throttle and sped the rest of the way.

  The scream of an entity rose as it came closer to her.

  She heard a haunted moan all around her. Mist covered her boat blocking her view. The air turned a deathly cold.

  A sharp blinding light burst through the night sky and darted down at her. In the center a figure stood, arms opened. Her hair was dripping wet and flowing as if in currents. Her ripped clothes were bloody and her eyes were cold and gray. She came closer humming and screeching simultaneously. She stopped so close that Helen could see the gray in her eyes.

  Helen felt her horror and rage all around her. She felt fear rushing through her body. The entity turned and dove into the water with an unearthly high-pitch scream.

  She vanished, calm returned to the lake.

  Helen reached the rowboat.

  “Hello, are you okay?” Helen asked out of breath.

  “Did you see what that was?” A frightened voice echoed from the stranded boat.

  Helen pulled the rowboat next to hers and looked down into the white scared face of a seventeen-year old boy. Edwin Adams curled up on the small bench. He remained still.

  “Do you need help? Are you okay?”

  Water was filling the boat. Some supplies drifted on the water. Edwin was staring at a bundled tucked in the bottom. He wept softly. Helen entered the boat carefully. Blood splatter and finger marks stained the wood works. She reached to touch Edwin.

  He turned to her.

  His eyes were bloodshot and wide from terror. His hair was wet and his hands folded so tightly into his chest the blood flow became restricted. He was trembling uncontrollably.

  Edwin looked up, his voice trembling. He wept fearfully. “Is she gone?” His voice faded into the rain.

  “Yes I believe so.” Helen insured.

  “Thank God.”

  “Do you need help?”

  “No, can you help my dad?” Edwin got up and tried to lift his father from the bottom of the boat.

  “We need to get him to my boat. This one’s going to sink soon.” Treading carefully she helped Edwin. “What happened?”

  Edwin's voice still trembled. “It came out of nowhere and started to attack us.”

  “Isn’t it too cold and rainy for fishing? What are you doing?” Helen asked noticing no fishing gear.

  Edwin paused to catch his breath. “We're helping the deputy searching for a child. We’re searching the water around the rock face. As we fell behind, she came and hurt my dad. I tried to get her to leave but she's too strong. Do you know who that was?”

  A few deep breaths and heavy lifting got Dillon Adams on board Helen's boat. She turned to Edwin sympathetically.

  “I wish I could tell you, I don't know.”

  “What if she comes back to finish what she started?” Edwin asked scanning the water around him holding his breath with renewed fear.

  “I don't think she will.” Helen assured looking around the boat nervously.

  *~*~*

  Chapter Three

  *I*

  Martin stood in a quiet moonlit room. A soft breeze blew in through an open window behind him. A soft lace-curtain fell and rose from the window as the breeze played freely. Colorful cartoon curtains hung to the side of the window. Toys were clearly visible but neatly stored on shelves and in an open toy box. A small bed with bedding that matched the curtains stood in the center of the room. A small boy was peacefully asleep. He slept on his back, one arm above his head and the other draped across his chest. He smiled, eyelids moved slowly.

  Martin stepped closer to the bed. The child was unaware of his presence. Martin looked down at his hands, blood dripped from them. He stumbled backward.

  The small boy was no longer sleeping peacefully. The bedcover fell half off the bed. A pillow covered the boy’s face. His breathing stopped his body still.

  Martin rushed forward and grabbed the pillow. His bloody hand stained the vibrant colors. The boy was staring into nothingness. His lips blue, his mouth open. The room turned icy cold.

  Martin closed his eyes tightly. He buried his head into his bloody hands and sunk to his knees. Cold sweat covered his body. He felt weak and dizzy.

  “Christopher... No, Christopher!” Martin cried in a hoarse whisper.

  Martin woke up with a jerk. Cold sweat covered his body. The sun shone through a small uncovered window, burning his eyes. His body felt too heavy to lift. He sunk his head back into the pillow and closed his eyes. He sat up quickly, fearing he might fall asleep and dream again. He tried to stand up but tiredness had robbed him of energy, he stumbled back. Music came from the kitchen. Between songs a message filled the airwaves.

  The radio announcer’s voice carried through the small trailer. “Last night local police undertook a search for a lost child around the lake and forest. Despite efforts from police and volunteers, the child remains missing. There’s a few injuries suffered but it's not too serious. Deputy Foster called off the search after heavy rain posed a threat to searchers. We will keep you updated during the day as we receive more details.”

  Martin got off the bed on shaky legs. He studied himself in the mirror for a brief moment. He turned away hating the man he had become fearing what might become of him if anyone discovered his darkest secret. He dressed into the uniform he once respected and lived to uphold. The cool air blew through the window. He looked out the window.

  Clouds were forming slowly. He placed his sunglasses to ease the burning in his eyes and stumbled into the kitchen.

  He sunk into the small cubicle in front of a plate set with bacon, eggs and toast. Vanessa McPherson poured a glass of gin on the rocks and placed it next to Martin’s plate. He lifted the glass while she joined him.

  Vanessa was twenty four and she knew she was attractive. The lounge portion of the trailer held all her feather scarfs and revealing outfits to cater for most fantasies that men couldn’t get at home. Polystyrene heads held wigs and an open box stored custom jewelry among make-up and bottles. She would cater for no more than four men at a time. They could visit on regular bases as long as they kept the cupbo
ards full, money in her pocket and the bills paid.

  “Did you have another nightmare?” Vanessa asked to break the awkward silence.

  “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.” Martin assured, but his voice betrayed his lie.

  Vanessa knew different and changed the subject. “Last night was exciting.”

  “Yes it sure was.” Martin took a last big swallow of gin.

  Vanessa ate her food quietly and got up. She collected a bottle of painkillers from an overstocked cabinet. She filled Martin’s glass and dropped a few ice blocks into it.

  Martin swallowed the painkillers hard with the gin. “Thanks I needed that.” He started after a moment of silence. “I’m leaving town this afternoon, but I need you to do me a favor. I need you to call me as usual today.” Martin added in a soft voice.

  “Would you like me to call around the same time?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where will you go?” Vanessa asked trying to keep the conversation alive.

  After a moment of silence Martin finely looked up at Vanessa. “North to where I don’t have memories.”

  “Are you going to come back?” She asked hoping against meeting with him again.

  “No, I’ve already sold the house and Deputy Foster’s taking over my job. There’s nothing keeping me here.” Martin said coldly and stood up.

  Martin placed the empty glass on the table. Took his jacket from the backrest and headed for the door.

  “Well then I wish you the best. Is it okay if you call me so I don’t worry too much?”

  “Sure.” Martin lied and walked out of the trailer.

  The wind was a gentle breeze. The bright sun burned down from a clear sky. Water puddles appeared smaller. The clouds were further than they appeared from the window. Martin got into his vehicle and left.

  *~*~*

  *II*

  Yvonne Hooper sat behind her desk outside Martin’s office door. She was a thirty-two year old good-looking woman. Her platted hair hung neatly against her back and her blouse allowed for just the right amount of skin. A small dolphin pendant was visible. She wore very little make-up, her cheeks were naturally rosy.

  Andrew was at his desk opposite Yvonne’s, making notes and occasionally engaged in conversation when Martin walked in. Yvonne got up quickly with files, the morning paper and night reports.

  “No!” Martin said firmly.

  Yvonne turned to Andrew as the office door slammed shut. “What have you done this time?”

  Andrew smiled innocently. “You have nothing on me.”

  “I don’t believe you. Anything that goes wrong’s your fault. Ask the sheriff, he’ll tell you.”

  Andrew laughed softly. “You’ve got nothing on me. He’s just cranky from last night’s heavy drinking. I bet you anything.”

  “Do you think I should take him a peace offering?” Yvonne offered.

  “Try or else we’ll have hell again today.”

  Yvonne said nothing, she only looked thoughtfully at the coffee machine and then at Martin’s door. She bit on her lower lip and got up slowly and cautiously.

  “If all hell breaks loose in there I expect you the rescue me. If you don’t I’ll blame whatever on you.” Yvonne warned.

  Without a further word she collected painkillers from the drawer and strong black coffee. Andrew winked and shooed her on.

  Yvonne walked into Martin’s office closing the door behind her. She placed the cup of coffee on the desk and held her hand out to Martin. After a few moments of silence he extended his hand. His facial expression didn’t change. He seemed lost, worried and even scared. She dropped the painkillers into his open hand and withdrew hers without a word.

  Martin’s red sagging eyes looked back from behind his sunglasses. It was clear he had too much gin last night. His hair looked ragged and uncombed. His body was heavy and sluggish. Nothing impressed him as he still seemed distant.

  “Sheriff, I hope you’ll consider talking to someone. I can’t stand seeing you like this.” Yvonne started in a gentle voice.

  Martin looked up dazed. “Are you part of the care gang too?”

  “We’re worried about you sheriff.”

  Martin looked up coldly and heartless. “You and who, Andrew, yes he’d put you up to this, didn’t he?”

  “I feel like I’m witnessing a murder.”

  Martin turned pale, faint and his voice scratched that you might think he was choking. “What do you mean?”

  Yvonne stepped back slightly. “I mean I’m watching you killing yourself and worst, you’re torturing yourself.”

  “As if you care from the bottom of your heart, spare me. Thanks for the concern, it's noted. Tell Andrew I want to see him.”

  Martin swung around in his chair with his coffee in hand. He raised the blinds mid-window. He remained still staring out of the window. People were walking up and down the sidewalk. Everyone was looking as if they were looking through him, seeing his guild. Martin didn’t hear the door opening or closing. His attention held on the street.

  A woman appeared from the shop next door. She looked and walked like Janet. Her long black hair flowed in the breeze, her posture was perfect. Seconds later a little boy skipped behind her, with hands filled with party balloons, his hair shimmered in the sun. He reached his mother and grabbed her hand, both looked up at Martin, their smiles turned to a grin, fingers pointed and eyes stared cold and sharp. Martin turned icy cold and numb.

  Martin mumbled harder then he would’ve liked. ‘They’re coming for me.’

  “Who's coming?” Andrew asked suddenly.

  Martin glanced out of the window and saw nothing. With a deep breath he turned his attention to Andrew. “I don’t have time for guessing games. You’re not making any sense, what are you talking about?” He picked up a pile of files from the desk.

  Andrew shook his head confused. “Nothing I just…Never mind you wanted to see me?”

  “These are active cases, a small accident, drunken brawls and a shoplifting, nothing too serious that needs your immediate attention.”

  Andrew took the files slowly. “Are you taking time off?”

  “Pay attention. These closed files need filing. Did you find the child?” Martin snapped.

  “No. I believe the sound came from a bird or night creature. We searched the forest and found nothing. We also heard what we thought was a child crying, but it's impossible. It cleared the forest and traveled to the water too quickly like it was in flight too fast for any child. We had a few incidents. A team on the lake reported an attack on them while a man in my group broke his arm. This morning we heard and saw nothing, not even evidence of a child roaming the area.” Andrew reported.

  “Do you think there might be some connection between Robert’s death and the missing child?”

  “I don’t think a missing child and a heart attack victim has anything in common.” Andrew said wondering why the sheriff would think otherwise.

  “Good then I’ll close them both.” Martin said relieved and glanced out of the window then turned back to Andrew. “Well old boy, you always wanted my job, now you’ve got it.”

  “Martin…” Andrew managed shocked.

  The phone on the desk rang.

  Martin interrupted before Andrew could say anything else. “From now you’re the new acting sheriff, congratulations. I’ll be out of your hair in just a minute.” He snapped up the receiver and turned his back to Andrew. “Hello… Yes dear… I’m leaving in a short while… Speak to you soon.”

  Andrew turned and left the office. He walked back to his desk, sunk into his chair and remained frozen. Yvonne leaned forward staring at him.

  For a moment Yvonne waited, her curiosity got the better of her. “What did he do to you in there? You look like he took you to the cleaners.”

  “He’s leaving.” Andrew said softly.

  Yvonne looked at him not surprised. “Did he say where he’s going?”

  “I don’t know. All I know is that he’s
leaving and I’m taking over his job.”

  “He needs to get away to clear his head. Maybe he meant that you’ll have his job till he gets back.” Yvonne said and tried to lift Andrew’s mood.

  “He’s not coming back. I heard him speaking to Janet, and it sounds like he’s going home.” Andrew felt more disappointed than sad.

  “I wonder what he did. His expressions are always of fear and horror. A man who recently lost his wife and son goes to the pub for a week or two. He picks a fight and gets the living daylights kicked out of him.” She paused thoughtfully. “Perhaps no one will fight him or something else’s going on. Something he did that’s so inconceivable that he struggles to live with it. Have you looked at him lately? I mean looked at him?”

  “He’s broken, such a softhearted man who loves his wife more than life itself. He can’t hurt a fly, not even if he tries.” Andrew defended in Martin’s absence.

  Yvonne sighed. “Well good for him, now he can snap out of this and live his life again. At least we don’t have to put up with his temper anymore.”

  “That’s mean. He’s still my best friend, even if he treats me like yesterday’s garbage. I’m worried about him.” Andrew replied softly and lowered his head.

  Yvonne’s voice turned gentler than Andrew had ever heard it. “Then you need to be happy for him. At least his wife’s taking him back. I’m sure they’ll come and visit, at least I hope he won’t forget you.”

  Andrew sighed deeply. “You know, you’re right. I should be happy for him. I sure will miss him.”

  “Did you mention the case to him?” Yvonne changed the subject as it became too soppy for her.

  “He closed the case because we couldn’t find the child and it has nothing to do with Robert’s death. I can’t see any connection between the two cases. I wonder why he might have thought that they perhaps have something in common.”

  Yvonne lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know, he’s in his own world most of the time, but I can tell you something for nothing. There’s more to these cases than we’re used to seeing.”