by Sharon Kleve
After what seemed like hours of girly roleplaying, Lin’s mood changed dramatically. She slowly, methodically, and grudgingly, made her way back to the gym’s door. With each pain-filled step, agony and confusion jumped from her Earth-bound gaze. I could tell that whatever she just heard—wasn’t good.
“What’s up?” I asked in, what I hoped, was a believable somber tone. I tried to communicate in an empathetic manner, like the psych teacher told us to do, but it may have come off as a bit insincere. However, I did make a genuine effort to show some concern for the tiny redhead’s condition. And even though I may not have meant it, that’s what really matters, isn’t it?
I stood and, showing the ultimate act of selflessness, held out my arms, inviting Lin to join me in the warmth of the blanket. “What did they tell you?”
Lin came close and raised her head halfway, conspicuously looking at me through her painted brows.
Her long stare was unnerving. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I shouted, “What?”
“It’s happened before,” Lin whispered. She placed her head on my chest and took a deep, noticeable breath; on second thought, it was more like a distressed sigh. She pressed harder against me. It felt as if she was trying to crawl inside my skin.
Despite feeling uneasy, I kept her wrapped under the blanket. I looked out into the rain-drenched parking lot and back down at Lin. Having her in my grasp, and glancing at the top of her latest wig, got me a bit stressed. This is getting pretty weird, I thought. A new feeling of sickness overcame me, but it wasn’t like a barf sick. It was more of an emotional response to the current situation, and having the redhead way too close for comfort. But, for Cali’s sake, I ate my disgust. So, instead of commenting on Lin’s neediness, and my newfound revulsion of her, I again asked, “What did they say?”
“Like I said, it’s happened before,” Lin said with a whimper. She proceeded to bury her face farther into my chest, though I’m not sure how that was even possible.
Although I’m not a big fan of wasting energy on anger, I was getting annoyed at Lin’s lack of disclosure. So, reacting on impulse, I once again shouted at her. “What! What happened before?”
The outburst must have scared Lin, because she jumped and pulled away.
I immediately sensed she needed reassurance, and I pulled her back in. I even showed concern. With the appearance of awkwardness, I whispered, “Sorry. This cuddling thing is new to me.”
Lin took another breath. “You’re forgiven. But don’t scare me like that, anymore.”
“Okay, let’s start over. Now, can you tell me what you found out?”
“Well, according to that reporter guy over there—other girls have gone missing on Halloween.” Lin snuggled tightly and moved her legs just outside mine. It was as if she was trying to keep me in one position.
Immediately, I wondered why and thought, What a weirdo. Then, for some odd reason, I could smell her breath. It was a mix of coffee, mint, and girl. The combination got me unexpectedly excited. Not wanting to let on, or have my manhood exposed, I tilted my head outside the door and focused on the cold wind and rain that suddenly rushed my face.
“Last year,” Lin continued, now in a whispered voice. “It was a girl just like Cali. The reporter said he’s been following this guy’s pattern, and thought he knew where the psycho was going to hit next. Only the reporter got it wrong. He said he messed up and staked out a target two towns down.”
I looked over Lin’s head toward the line of strangers that now included unmarked cars. FBI, I reckoned. “Why two towns down?”
“He said something about following the path of a map they found at the first crime scene. He also said the spaz likes to go to the local high school, in small towns, and meet young girls. Apparently, he has an accomplice who goes to the school before him—sometime in September. And then they plot their evil together. And it’s always near a forest of some kind.” Lin looked up. “September’s about the time you showed up here.” She paused to clear her throat. “He also said to watch out for guys who pretend like they’re compassionate; or, who show concern, but don’t seem sincere. He said something about it being like a sociopath.”
I could feel her eyes scouring my face. The lengthy gaze made me uncomfortable again. But this time she seemed to be speaking to me. Looks weren’t enough for me, I wanted words. And I wanted the unsettling glare to stop. So, once again, I was forced to raise my voice. “And what else?” I shouted. This time I held Lin close, I didn’t want her freaking out too much.
Nonetheless, Lin, being the fragile moth she was, jumped and started to cry. I tried not to be negative, but I could feel a smirk forming from within. So, in an effort to remain surly, I hit the back of my head against the metal jamb, causing discomfort. The move worked—it killed the brewing smile.
Though I held her in close restraint, Lin seemed to stiffen. And when she collected herself, she moved away, pacing quickly with her back turned away from me. I’m guessing she caught on to my uneasiness and never-ending disdain for her; or, maybe she felt my unwanted desire percolating from down under. It really didn’t matter either way, I just wanted to know about Cali.
All of a sudden, Lin turned back and pointed at me. “And the reporter,” she said, then paused. She put her index finger to her front teeth. Then, showing what a freak she really was, Lin did two pirouettes. The last ended in the direction of the parking lot, where she could get a look the action. “And all the girls end up dead.” She coughed, shivered, and nearly fell. She reached out for the opposite door jamb and caught herself.
Barely holding herself upright, Lin stammered, “A-a-nd they—were ra-a-ped…” She paused again. She leaned against the metal frame, seeming to use it as a splint to hold herself in place. “Over and over, they were raped,” she continued. “And then they were killed.” She shook her head. “After hearing that, my thoughts turned to mush, so I’m not sure which comes first—the rapes or their deaths. Or maybe the rape continues after death.” Lin lowered her head. “I don’t know.”
When the visions in my head stopped, I yelled, “Oh shit! I need to find her! Now!”
“No!” Lin quickly shouted. “We need to find her.”
“No, you stay here, in case Cali comes back.”
“Not on your life bud.” Lin had somehow gathered her energy. “And I think you know exactly where they are.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
It didn’t take long to understand what needed to be done. Queasy stomach and all, I gathered my coffee, jacket, and doughnuts, and quickly headed into the windy rain. To avoid talking to the police and the reporter, who would bog me down, I started for the field between the gymnasium and Lin’s house. As soon as I reached the abundant field of green and mud, I felt a presence from behind. I turned to see Lin rushing to catch up.
“Stay here!” I yelled. “Cali may come back, and she’ll need a friend to talk to.”
“No!”
I made a complete turn. Walking backward, I watched the fragile redhead, struggle to catch up. Arms and legs flailing, backpack swaying, Lin looked cute in her determination. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell her so. Instead, I yelled, “Go back!”
With her face now screaming of resolve, Lin growled. “Even if you know where they are, it will take you freakin’ hours and hours to get there.”
She’s right. I thought. “So what are you saying?”
“Let’s get my car, we’ll drive there.”
I stopped to let Lin catch up. When she reached me, she pointed at my feet and, in a commanding voice, shouted, “Stay here! I need to ask the reporter something.”
Lin walked sideways, keeping a stern eye in my direction. Given our history, I suppose she didn’t have a whole lot of trust for me. When she reached the halfway point, Lin must have felt comfortable because she turned and ran toward the nosy reporter. Once there, she returned her suspicious gaze in my direction. It didn’t take long for the reporter to join in. If I didn’t know better, I would ha
ve felt paranoid, thinking they were talking about me.
As luck would have it, and moments became minutes, the unease turned to anxiety. I looked away, thinking, Shit! They are talking about me. When I peeked back in their direction, I half expected to see Lin and the cops coming to detain me; not the case. What I saw was Lin jump in the air and begin a spirited sprint back in my direction.
Out of breath, and somewhat disheveled when she reached me, Lin barked, “Let’s go!”
Again, I couldn’t help but chuckle at the tiny redhead’s cute determination. “Your wig is buggin’. It’s a bit out of alignment.”
While I helped her straighten the wig, Lin made an ugly face. The scene reinforced my belief that she was a meek, sickly little cancer patient, with a propensity toward mean spiritedness—and why I’m usually not very fond of her.
Regardless of my current state of likeness, Lin didn’t seem in a friendly mood. From inside her backpack, she pulled out a red bandana and wrapped it around her head, firmly strapping the wig in place. The bandana seemed to help keep the rain out of her eyes as well.
We walked in silence to Lin’s 1978 Pontiac, Bonneville. Once inside, I had to comment. “Wow this has a lot of room. I bet you have fun with the football team in here.”
I don’t think Lin was too amused by my comments. She gave me a dirty look, started the engine, and angrily whispered, “You just can’t help yourself, can you? You’re a dickweed like all the rest.” Lin paused to cough up some phlegm. “You creep.”
“Well, do you blame me?”
“Do you take anything serious? Now where the hell are we going? Cali’s in deep trouble.”
“Oh yeah.” The reason for the free ride—and what might be waiting when we reach our destination—ruined my suddenly frisky mood. Despair replaced my light-hearted sarcasm. And a tear formed in my right eye. “Follow the path they took yesterday,” I whispered.
Lin pulled down the gear shift and hit the accelerator. When the back tires hit the street, I heard a scraping sound, and then the car hopped.
Lin gasped, and yelled, “Oh shit,” when the car spun out of control.
In slow motion, the car swirled in a circular manner. I watched the school’s blurred-landscape slowly roll past. And then I saw the driver-side window of a parked station wagon come within inches of my face.
When the Bonneville finally came to a stop, I yelled, “You may want to die, but I don’t! So watch it!”
Lin grunted and pulled the lever all the way down. “Strap up,” she said with grit in her eyes. She, again, hit the accelerator, and soon we were flying down the main highway.
After a few minutes of driving, I noticed Lin had a booster seat of sorts that helped her reach the pedals. I wanted to laugh, but stopped myself and reached for the cassette player instead. I turned it on, and immediately, the Cars, “You’re All I’ve Got Tonight,” blasted the Pontiac’s six-speaker, aftermarket, sound system.
It didn’t take long for the sick thoughts to enter my mind. Several fantasies flashed before me, all involved Lin and me, in the backseat of the Bonneville, getting sprung and slapping ass.
The more I thought about it, the more excited I got. I caught myself staring at her. And I’m pretty sure I smiled—and my brows instinctively rose and fell several times. I even found myself thinking out loud. In a whispered voice, I said, “I think I want to hurt you.”
Lin must not have heard me because she didn’t flinch. She was focused and determined. Yet, with her wig a little off center, my excitement continued to rise. The rain, now racing the squeaky wiper blades to the glass, seemed to increase the intensity of the moment. Any ill feelings were now a faint memory. Feeling like I wanted to share my feelings with Lin, I reached for the stereo to lower the sound.
Lin beat me to it. She reached the stereo first and turned it off. “So, tell me,” she shouted. “Where the hell are they?”
My excitement faded, somewhat, making room for concern over Cali’s possible predicament. My abruptly conflicted feelings had me anxious, on edge, and extremely confused. Then, out of nowhere, there was a new, unusual feeling of lightheadedness.
“Well?” Lin’s impatience didn’t help things. “Say something.”
I felt faint, yet energized; and the countryside began to blur, much like the school during the near accident, just moments before.
“I’m waiting.” Lin’s head turned in my direction, but her eyes stayed focused on the wet road ahead. “Are you okay?”
I shook my head and held out my hand. After a few moments in suspended animation, I was able to blurt out, “They’re at Torture Ridge, in the caves.”
“How are you so sure?” Lin adjusted herself in the seat and gave a quick, nasty glance in my direction.
I began to check my legs, arms, and hands. I felt tingling, coupled with a heaviness I couldn’t explain.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Lin staring at me while I stared at my hands. She reached out with her right hand and slapped my face. “Snap out of it. Stop spazzin’ you freakin’ weirdo!”
“Ouch. What was that for?”
“Think!”
“About what?”
“Torture Ridge.”
“Oh yeah.” I looked out the windshield, trying to keep myself from trippin’ on the rhythm of the wipers. Forcing myself to focus, I asked, “Did you hear about the cave woman?”
“What cave woman?” Lin looked at me with concerned disdain. “You’re trippin’.”
I am trippin’, I thought. Focus. Then, for some unknown reason, things got clear. “I mean, did you hear Red’s remark about the cave woman?”
“Yeah.” Lin smirked. “That makes more sense.”
“Well, it makes even more sense that he took her to the place where women have been tortured; you know, in caves.”
Lin cleared her throat. “That’s an urban legend. I doubt there’s been any women tortured there.”
Still feeling somewhat normal, I rushed to continue. “There has been a lot of women go missing up there. And you saw Red’s reaction when we took him up there last week. He was a freak.”
“I guess.”
“Shit!” I shouted and hit my hand against my forehead. “What if he has a weapon? He is pretty strong you know.”
“No, I don’t,” Lin snapped. “How do you know he’s strong?”
“Never mind. Do you have a tire iron?”
“Better.” Lin gazed into the rearview mirror. The look lasted several seconds and, like me, Lin seemed to lose contact with reality. With a blank stare into the mirror, she wasn’t paying attention to the road. When we should have veered right, the Pontiac continued a straight path.
Scared beyond compare, I yelled, “Lin!”
No response.
I grabbed for the steering wheel and pulled us through the wide turn; just before disaster.
The sudden jerk of the steering wheel must have jolted Lin, because she regained control.
Feeling a bit shattered, I turned and looked out the back window. I wanted to see what was so damn mesmerizing. I kept one hand on the dash, near the steering wheel, and one eye on Lin, just in case. Hoping to see something interesting—anything, I puffed when nothing emerged. The only thing in sight was rain pounding the back window; and the landscape, for as far as I could see.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
Lin cleared her throat. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
My heart continued to pound. So, like my biology teacher said to do, I took three deep breaths to help return my body to status quo. When I felt settled, I asked, “So, what about that better weapon?”
“I have a Slugger in my trunk.”
“A what?”
Lin giggled. “A baseball bat, you nerd.”
“I reckon that is better.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
When we reached the highway cutout, Lin slowed the car to an idle, and looked me up and down. Then, as she turned the wheel, she stared me in the eyes for what seemed
like an hour. My judgement and thinking were completely impaired, so I’m not really sure how long it was. What I do know, is that Lin had me freaked, and I was no longer in the mood for grinding each other into the backseat.
Just clear of the highway, Lin stopped and got out. She walked the length of the cutout. Using her knee-high, black leather boots, she seemingly measured the depth of the mud and rain puddles. When she returned, Lin scooted forward in the driver-seat and, barely peeking over the dashboard, said, “We’re good.” She put the Bonneville into drive and slowly steered the car toward a barely noticeable road that would take us to a hidden path. Though hidden, the path was well known to locals who often frequented Torture Ridge to party.
Lin remained quiet and methodical. Her silent secrecy had my brittle mind thinking all sorts of weird things. “You’re not the accomplice, are you?” I asked, half-heartedly, with a not-so-convincing laugh.
Lin stopped the car. She smiled. Then, to get a good look at herself, Lin adjusted the rearview mirror and put on lipstick she’d grabbed from the ashtray. Still smiling, she moved her head from side-to-side, while she adjusted her wig.
My concern continued to rise and now it included warped thoughts of Lin and Red. But all I could do was watch.
Lin put the mirror back in its original placement then leaned and touched my leg. If I wasn’t confused enough, Lin started to caress my thigh. My mind went fuzzy. Just minutes earlier, I would’ve jumped at a chance to wrestle her to the ground. Yet, suddenly, I felt a new intense fear of Lin.
What is she up to? I wondered.
Lin looked up and gave me a look of surrender.
My heart stopped. I’m in trouble now, I thought. And, so is Cali. Against my natural instincts, I removed Lin’s hand from my groin area and jumped out of the car. Then, in a show of authority, I yelled, “Get the bat!” and slammed the passenger-side door.
Without protest, Lin retrieved the bat and we began our calculated walk to Torture Ridge. Carefully watching our step, we walked in silence. Lin’s mood seemed to change again. Her face told a new story of resolve. This picture somehow seemed much grimmer than before, and was emphasized her quiet gloom.