Slaughter Series

by A. I. Nasser

  “I’m here to follow up on Doctor Fanning’s disappearance,” Fiona said.

  “Did you find him yet?”

  Fiona shook her head. “It would be helpful if anyone actually knew where he was going. He didn’t talk to anyone?”

  Gene shook her head pensively. “We knew he was having trouble the past few weeks, but no one expected him to up and leave like that. Even left his lab fully functioning, as if he was only going out for a smoke.”

  Fiona smiled at the nurse and leaned in. “I’m going to need to take a look at his lab.”

  From the Journal of Jeremiah Carter.

  Melington. October 15th, 1826.

  I ride out to Hartford tomorrow.

  I know this trip will be hard, and leaving the boys and Abbey behind to handle the farm in my absence seems selfish. However, they have assured me that they will be alright, and when I look in my wife’s eyes, I can see that she believes it. There is not a doubt in my bones that she will tend to matters well in my absence.

  However, there is a slight worry within me I cannot shake. It is in the way Abbey speaks to me in the final hours before I leave. I laugh at the thought of it, but I could almost swear it is as if she wants me gone. She has already packed my things for me, hurriedly, tending only to my needs the entire day as if nothing were more important than this trip.

  I believe she is excited, hopeful that my efforts in Hartford will prove fruitful. I must admit that I do have my doubts. I know what the city folk are like, and I fear they might just wave off my concerns and accusations for more tending matters close to home.

  That will not stop me, though. I am resolute in my quest for justice, and I will not rest until I see Copper Tibet in the custody of the proper authorities. It may take days, but I will push through. I cannot let my initial fear of rejection stray me from my determination.

  I allowed my Abbey to accompany me in the pens today, and showed her how to slaughter one of the pigs if ever the need arose and I had not yet returned. She is a quick learner and a fine student, asking many questions and listening intently as I explained the procedure. I doubt that she will ever need to carry out this task alone, but I must be sure that my family needs nothing more than what the farm offers until my return.

  I visited Chairman Cole today and told him of my intentions. I also explained that I knew about the men watching me, and it gave me great pleasure to see him shift nervously in his seat. He apologized profusely, though, which was even more amusing, and tried very much to change my mind. He is still adamant that it is a private matter, a local obligation that must be handled by the townspeople of Melington.

  I laughed at that heartily, and continued to laugh even as I left his home. For the first time, I truly see how naïve our Chairman is, and how blind. He is a coward, afraid to take a crucial decision lest it tarnish his image. I have always felt great contempt for the man, but not until this day have I ever felt that he needed to be replaced. I have always considered him the right kind of snake for the title he held, but now his venom threatens to destroy our town.

  Maybe I will run for Chairman during the next election. It might be the right time for one of firmer resolution to lead this town.

  Chapter 14

  Alan woke up to the sound of his alarm, his hand immediately reaching for his phone and dismissing the shrill sound before it got any louder. He sat up slowly, grateful for a night without dreams, and with one eye open took a look at the time.

  He was late.

  Alan was up and ready within minutes. He didn’t bother with his morning ritual and was surprisingly comfortable as he grabbed the keys off the kitchen table and made his way out. He briefly glanced at the garage door, his activities within kept at a ridiculous minimum since his last encounter with Deborah two weeks ago.

  He had tried talking to her at school, bumping into her every now and then hoping to get a few minutes with her alone. She was good at brushing him off, though, and before he could ever say a word, she was already rushing past him towards whatever class she claimed she had.

  Alan hated the cold shoulder, and despite wanting to desperately do more about it, he had more important issues occupying his mind. He had come to Melington for a reason, and he was going to see it through, no matter what the consequence.

  It was proving rather hard, however, with the extra attention the Sheriff was giving him. He would constantly catch glimpses of police cruisers idling by the school or his home, and he knew that Fiona Bright had upped her game. There were moments when he had thought that maybe Deborah had in fact told her mother about the files in his garage, but he had quickly dismissed the accusation.

  She wouldn’t do that. He needed to believe that she wouldn’t.

  The extra attention was a bit alarming, though, and Alan couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with the fact that the twenty sixth was approaching in a few days. He knew the Sheriff was involved somehow, but he was far from being able to prove it, especially with his every move being watched.

  He had studied the files carefully, and he still couldn’t see a pattern to the disappearances. The victims had nothing in common other than the fact that they were all below the age of thirteen. According to the town records, that left quite a lot of children to choose from. There had to be a way that Copper was choosing his victims, and Alan was having a very hard time figuring it out.

  Rachel Adams knew something. She had to.

  ***

  “Again?”

  Deborah sat in front of her mother and stared at her in exasperation. She looked down at the file in her hand, a lump jumping to her throat as she stared at the smiling face of Jamie Drew, one of her brightest.

  “This is Blake Collins all over again,” she said, passing the file back to Rachel.

  “It’s not your fault, sweetheart,” Rachel said, her voice measured and calm. “You don’t control the fate of every single person in this town.”

  Deborah wanted to retort, but she knew her mother was right. She couldn’t be greedy about this. She could only imagine the devastation the family must be going through.

  “Why was he fired?” Deborah asked.

  “That’s really none of my business,” Rachel replied, “and neither is it yours. I know this must be hard for you. Jamie’s a bright girl.”

  “One of the best,” Deborah nodded in agreement, unable to wrap her head around the fact that she was losing two students in one semester. “Did the father say where they were going?”

  Rachel frowned. “Why is that important?”

  Deborah shrugged and shook her head. “It isn’t,” she said. “I just wish I could keep in touch with these kids, you know? I have no idea how Blake is doing, and we don’t have any means of contacting him.”

  Rachel sat back in her seat and eyed Deborah from over the rim of her glasses. “Let me share with you a little bit of experience,” she said after a brief silence. “Relationships with your students should go only as far as what is beneficial for them within these walls. Once they’re outside, there’s very little we as educators can do.”

  Deborah couldn’t agree less, but let her mother continue.

  “Blake Collins was a wonderful boy, and Jamie Drew is a joy to be around. But, once they’re gone, then they’re gone. You have a whole classroom full of students who need your attention. We can’t fret about the ones that aren’t ours.”

  “The way this semester’s going, I might not have many students left to worry about.”

  Rachel smiled and stood, waving at her daughter. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s happened to us all. It’s Melington. We have a high turnover when it comes to families.”

  Deborah suddenly remembered the wall in Alan’s garage and shivered at her mother’s words. She watched Rachel close Jamie’s file and shove it into her purse, pulling on her coat as she readied herself to leave. Deborah frowned, wondering why her mother would take the file with her to a Council meeting, a sick feeling building in the pit of her stomach.<
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  “Anyway, I believe you’ll be able to hold the fort while I’m gone?” Rachel asked.

  Deborah smiled weakly and nodded.

  “Good,” Rachel said, looking at her daughter carefully. “Don’t take this personally, sweetheart. You can’t save all the children.”

  Deborah watched her mother leave, the feeling in her gut spreading quickly to the rest of her as her mother’s words echoed in her head.

  ***

  Deborah spent the rest of the day working through her mother’s calendar of meetings. By the time she was done with the most important tasks, it was one o’clock and Rachel still hadn’t returned.

  Deborah couldn’t stop thinking about Jamie Drew and how she was losing yet another student due to family misfortunes. She had met Jamie’s father on several occasions, and he had never struck her as a man who didn’t take his job seriously, yet alone would be careless enough to get fired. It made no sense.

  Watch it, you’re starting to sound like Alan, she thought to herself. She was trying to find conspiracies where none existed, and she quickly reached for the files on her mother’s desk, hoping to occupy the rest of her time doing anything more productive than worrying about her students.

  Deborah flipped through the paperwork, noting various interviews set for next year’s new teachers, as well as admissions from Melington Elementary. She was about to take a look at the newcomers when her eye caught a file underneath the stacks, sticking out awkwardly as if someone had pushed it in quickly.

  Deborah frowned, pulling it out and opening it, her confusion deepening when she realized she was holding Jamie Drew’s file. She shook her head in bewilderment, sure she had seen her mother take it with her. What was it doing here?

  Deborah opened the file, smiling as she looked at Jamie’s photo, the little blonde girl grinning shyly as she tried to hide her braces from finding their way into the frame. She remembered the first day Jamie had come to school with them, how everyone had teased her until she hardly opened her mouth at all. It had taken Deborah almost a week to convince her that she looked beautiful, no matter what.

  It was a shame.

  Deborah flipped through the pages, going over the girl’s academic history. Behind a copy of her most recent report card, she found her admission sheet. Deborah scanned it, curious as to what kind of establishment would want to fire a man as dignified as Jamie’s father. She found the man’s professional information on the back of the admission sheet, and her heart almost stopped when she read the company’s name.

  Jamie’s father had worked for Michael Cole.

  From the Journal of Jeremiah Carter.

  Melington. October 20th, 1826.

  I have failed.

  Frustration is hardly the right word for how I feel. My trip to Hartford has been useless, and I have come back with my pride in shambles. I could not bear to look at my wife and children as they greeted me with open arms, waiting patiently as I rode up to the house for news of my adventures.

  I had very little in way of good news, and I could see how it broke their hearts.

  Abbey has grown silent again, going about her duties without her sing-song spirits and her glowing smile. Her mood has darkened, as has the mood of the entire home. It is as if Abbey had pulled a blanket over our eyes and blotted out the sun.

  I do not blame her. I cannot blame her. It had been my duty to return with hope and promise, with retribution and justice. I have returned with none of that, only a feeling of failure and guilt, worried that I might not have done enough despite my best efforts.

  Hartford! What a dreadful place! There is little in ways of comfort there, and I cannot understand how any man or woman could live there. It is a cold city, a dead city, and one can see it in the eyes of its inhabitants that there is only pain and suffering in its streets. So much unhappiness! So much negativity!

  My requests were laughed at, my concerns scorned, and my pride broken. I have never felt this much anger towards anyone before, yet alone an entire population. It angers me to see the disconnection in their eyes, as if my accusations were absurd and out of place. There were times I asked myself whether or not it was all a conspiracy, that somehow Chairman Cole had found a way to reach Hartford before me and warn the authorities of the crazed lunatic that was on his way to seek their justice.

  There is nothing left for me to do, and I fear I have fallen into deep despair. Copper Tibet will walk free forever, and there is nothing I can do about it. I curse this wretched town and its people. I curse the Council and its indecisiveness. I curse the Gods for taking away my chance at retribution. I deserved my justice! My daughter deserves justice! How can they be so blind?

  I spent most of the day on the porch, rocking in the chair Abbey had once occupied when she had lost herself. I fear that I am close to that state, the comfort of sitting motionless while staring out into the woods an appealing thought.

  My Abbey, bless her soul, has been busy, though. She slaughtered one of the pigs with the help of our older boy, and even rode into town for supplies. Upon her return, she coaxed me inside for dinner, forcing me away from the chair she knew so well.

  It was a fine meal, and it reminded me of days when all our problems seemed far away.

  Oh, how I do wish those days would return.

  Chapter 15

  Daniel Cole pulled the collar of his coat higher and pushed through the wind.

  The night cold was getting rougher, and soon it would reach a point where his bones couldn’t handle being outside this late anymore. Already he could feel his tendons scream and his joints protest, a reminder that he was not getting any younger and would soon need to find a replacement.

  Luckily, his destination was not far.

  Daniel trudged through the wide expanse of the woods behind his house until he reached a narrow path barely visible in the darkness. The beam from his flashlight danced across the path as he tried to steady his shaking hands. If it weren’t for the fact that he had taken this path once every month, he would never have found it.

  He remembered the first time his father had shown it to him all those years ago. He had been in his mid-twenties, recently having had returned to Melington and already being groomed to take his father’s place as Chairman. Daniel had been eager for the opportunity to prove himself, and his father had willingly given him the opportunity he needed to succeed.

  Oh, how far the apple had fallen from the tree as far as Michael was concerned.

  Daniel had taken over his family’s duties a decade before his father’s retirement, and he now wished he had done the same with his own son. Daniel doubted that he would be able to do this much longer, especially with the cold, and he thought hard about bringing Michael along the next time. It was about time the man-boy stepped up.

  The winds picked up, and Daniel silently wished he had worn another layer of clothes beneath the coat. It had always been a strange aspect of this trek, how the weather always seemed much colder up here, as if somehow the seasons never changed on this side of Melington. He remembered his father telling him that the field had once been a marketplace, a friendly and homey meeting of merchants who chatted and laughed as they sold their produce.

  The founding families had ruined that, of course. There was nothing warm and friendly about that field any longer.

  The path widened near the edge of the woods where it opened into the vast field beyond. The leaves had begun to lose their branches a month before, but there was one maple that never bloomed. Its bark was burnt, and its branches tilted at grotesque angles. Daniel had often wondered why it hadn’t died ages ago, impressed at its fortitude, a solid reminder that not all that is evil is overcome.

  The winds blew harder here, the vastness allowing for its speed, and Daniel could feel it reaching inside the collar of his coat, like the long fingers of Death undressing him. He flinched at the lone sound of an owl in the distance and pressed forward, making his way to the tree until he stood a few feet away. He buried his hands de
ep into his pockets, touching the vial that contained Jamie Drew’s blood and pulled it out.

  It was time.

  Daniel Cole closed his eyes and began to whisper, an old chant that had been passed down from one generation of Coles to the next. He didn’t understand, and never cared to ask what it meant. All he needed to do was know what it did, and that was frightening enough.

  As soon as he thought it, a hand broke free from the earth at his feet and clasped down on his ankle hard. Nails cut into his boots and tore at his skin. He might as well have been wearing paper towels around his feet.

  Daniel winced at the pain, careful not to make any sound other than what he was whispering into the night, aware that the hand was teasing him, hurting him, trying to break the chant. He could feel the earth about him moving, the hand around his ankle letting go as the wind seemed to pick up speed and slam against him.

  Daniel continued through it all, and when he was finally done, he opened his eyes and stared into the hollow eyes of Copper Tibet.

  “Cole,” the raspy voice breathed out, the aroma coming from Copper’s mouth thick with rot. A smile appeared where a smile should not have been. “Have you come to play?”

  ***

  When Michael Cole saw Deborah standing in the hallway, he was inclined to closing the door in her face and ignoring any further knocking. He looked at her angrily, unsure as to how to react as they stood gazing at each other.

  “Can I come in?” Deborah asked.

  “No,” Michael replied, standing more firmly in his doorway and crossing his arms over his chest. “What do you want?”

  Deborah nodded. “I deserve that.”

  “Damn right you do.”

  Deborah squinted at the man she had wasted years of her life on, wondering how she had ever put up with his insolence. The obnoxious look on his face made her want to punch him, but she fought the urge to do that. She was here because she needed information, and she knew Michael would be difficult about giving it anyway. She didn’t need to provoke him.