“I don’t think that’s possible.”
Trent didn’t have the heart to argue the dangers of coffee to a teenage girl, so he let that one go. With steaming cups in front of them, he asked, “What’s this movie about? Is it like a home movie or something?”
“No,” Jill laughed. “It’s a horror movie. I guess he entered it in some indie filmmaker contest.”
“Really? How did he do?”
“Pretty good. He didn’t win the grand prize or anything, but I think he came in second or something. And he won an award for the best special affects!”
“Cool? So,” he pointed at the disk in her hand, “is the movie any good?”
“Well, I don’t know for sure. I mean, Leo was damn talented, but …”
“Go on,” Trent urged.
“Well, do you remember when that psycho died out in that old tree house?”
Trent stiffened. He had been first on the scene that day and had vivid recollections of the death of Peter Taylor.
“Yes, I remember.”
“Right, well, I think that inspired Leo because, from what I understand, after all that went down, he completely ditched the original script. Wrote an entirely different movie … fired his male lead and everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“I guess he and his buddy Kyle had this script that was supposed to be pretty good, but then the serial killer asshole croaked, and Leo kind of, well … lost it.” She shrugged. “I don’t really know the whole story.”
“Why do you think he did that?”
“Like I said, I’m a bit outta’ the loop on this one.”
“You mean out of Leo’s loop … his circle of friends?”
“Yeah, pretty much. Although, Leo’s circle shrank to about zero after the dead guy and the tree house.”
Trent nodded and took a sip of his coffee.
They sat in silence for a while. Then Jill said, “That final scene …” and visibly shuddered.
“Are you all right? Here, lemme get another log on the fire.”
“No, really, I’m fine. I’m not cold. I just got the shivers.”
“What about that final scene?” he asked.
“It’s terrible. I mean, it’s awesome, but it’s … terrible. You know what I mean?”
“Not really.”
“You want to watch it or talk about it?”
Trent smiled. He liked her. “Let’s watch it.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Jerry sat quietly in the open cell. The bed was hard and smelled of dust, but he didn’t care. God knows he had slept in far worse places. He leaned back and closed his eyes. The air was still, and the room was silent. He listened for the storm, but the holding cell was too deep into the old building. No wind. No snow. No strange apparitions darting through the street. And Jerry was fine with that. Finally, he slept.
The sound of breaking glass pulled him reluctantly from sleep. The wind roared through the hallways, breaking the silence like a woman screaming. Now the wind was the only thing Jerry could hear. Was it getting closer? Jerry thought so. But that would be impossible. He could hear paper rustling down the hall. A poster explaining the dangers of buzzed driving tore free, fluttering past the open door, followed by the papers that had been pinned to a corkboard next to the office next door.
“Deputy!” Jerry called out.
No response.
“Sheriff! Is that you?”
Still no answer. Jerry tried to stand up, but his legs wouldn’t hold him.
I got to run, he thought desperately. No, that wouldn’t work. It was too late. He had waited too long. The keys, he thought. Jerry stood up wobbly and reached for the keys hanging on the wall. He grabbed them and stumbled back into the cell, tripping on the leg of the desk. He landed hard on his knees, knocking the keys from his hand. They disappeared under the cot.
Down the hall, the wind blew violently. Underneath the howling, Jerry could hear his father’s voice. Be calm, it said. Just close your eyes, Jerry, and trust me. I’m here for you. Like always, I’m here for you.
Jerry opened his eyes. His father wasn’t there for him; never had been. He stumbled forward and grabbed the open cell door. As wind blew into the room, Jerry slammed the door shut, locking himself in.
Papers and dust swirled through the room, blocking out the flickering lights. With the sound of the slamming door still echoing through the room, the wind suddenly stopped. The papers fluttered to the floor as the lights flickered once, and then went out completely before returning at roughly half their harsh power. Jerry backed away from the locked cell door until the back of his knees bumped into the mattress. He dropped onto the bed and scooted as far into the corner as he could manage.
“Hello, Jerry.”
Jerry didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Instead, he tried to melt into the cot underneath him.
“What? Won’t you even say hi to your old man anymore?”
“You aren’t here. You’re dead.” The words came out of Jerry’s mouth, but he hardly recognized them.
“Of course I am. Look at me, son.”
“I won’t,” Jerry said turning his head away, burying it in his shoulder.
“Born a coward. Live a coward. Die a coward.”
“You’re the coward,” Jerry said, finally raising his head to stare at the shape in front of him. “You’re the one who left, not me. You’re the one who ran.”
The thing that looked like Jerry’s father laughed. “Is that how you remember it? Is it?”
“You’re not real so I don’t have to talk to you. Just go away …”
The cell door rattled.
“It’s locked. You can’t get in,” Jerry said.
He flinched and cried out as the metal door swung open, the lock snapping with a metallic clang. Jerry looked up with wide eyes and saw his father was no longer there.
What remained had no face—no body at all.
“Tell them it’s over. Go, and tell them I’m coming.”
Unable to move, unable to look away, Jerry watched the shape in front of him swirl and dissolve entirely, seeming to disappear through the vent above him.
Finally, he remembered to exhale. He still couldn’t move, but at least he was still drawing breath, and a few moments ago, he didn’t think he would ever do that again. Dust fell from the vent overhead into Jerry’s face. He coughed and turned away.
The door to the cell hung open, twisted and askew. Like a man in a fever dream, Jerry stood gingerly from the cell’s cot. His legs wobbled and it was all he could do to remain standing, so that’s what he did. When he felt his muscles were capable of following orders, he burst through the broken cell door and into the hallway. Slipping on the loose paper that littered the floor, Jerry crashed to his knees on the hard linoleum, driving both elbows into the wall. He didn’t feel either impact. Jerry scrambled to his feet and ran through the empty, dark hallways, taking the stairs two at a time until he barged into the blinding, snowy nightmare.
CHAPTER FIVE
Trent slid the disk into his DVD player, and the two sat on the leather couch next to the fireplace.
A white screen appeared, followed by large block letters reading, The Light in the Forest. Written and directed by Leo Barrows.
The two moviegoers shared a glance at each other, and then settled in for the movie.
Forty minutes later, Trent paused the video without comment and pour another cup of coffee.
“Well, what do you think so far?” Jill asked.
Trent seemed to consider his response, then said, “I’m not much of a movie critic. I mean, it’s pretty good for a kid, I suppose.”
“Yeah,” Jill agreed. “The dialog is a bit hokey. And the acting …” She made a crinkled face.
“Who is the main guy?” Trent asked. “The male lead.” He put air quotes around the word ‘lead’.
“That’s Jeff. Yeah … he’s not much of an actor. But like I said, he was a last-minute fill in.”
“Oh right.”
/> “Yup. In fact, the original script had a different main character. After that dude died in the orchard, you know, in the tree house, and you all had your investigation, closing down the forest and everything …”
Trent motioned for her to go on. Finally, she did.
“Well, after you, I mean the police and all, moved on from the orchard; we all thought the movie would go on. We already had a day or two of shooting before the accident, and we figured we would just pick up where we left off. But afterwards, he put the movie on hold. Said it, ‘needed some revisions’ or something. Most of his volunteer crew moved on, but those of us who stayed kept bugging him about it. Then, a couple weeks later, he fired Kevin from the lead role and hired Jeff. Leo said he matched the physical characteristics he was looking for,” she said with a shrug. “Even though Kevin could actually act, and Jeff was … well, you see it.” She pointed towards the paused movie screen, “Jeff is a jock. And not the greatest thespian.”
“I’d like to talk to this Jeff,” Trent said.
“That’ll be tough. I think he’s up in Lincoln, going to a trade school. Ag kid.”
“Damn. Okay, can you get me a list of the rest of the cast?”
“Yeah, I could do that. But I was friendlier with the old cast.” She shook her head, thinking of old times. “It really sucks, you know? We had such a good time on that movie. Then everything changed … I mean everything. The cast, most of the crew, and the script changed too. That first script was good. I guess Leo had entered it into some first-time screenwriters contest and it did pretty well. It was weird. When you guys placed the orchard in lockdown during your investigation, Leo changed.
“Or at least his movie did,” Trent injected.
“For sure. But I think he changed, too. He withdrew … like one of those whiny emo kids, but not for attention, for real. I don’t know. You want to finish it … the movie?
“I guess. I should see how it all turns out, eh?”
Jill chuckled. “Yup, might as well. I gotta’ tell you, I’m not too excited to see that last part again. It was freaky. The movie’s pretty … well, it’s bad, but that last scene is intense.”
“Really? You can wait in the kitchen if you’d like,” Trent said.
“Aw, aren’t you the gentleman? No, I’ll be fine. Let’s get it over with.”
“After you.” He gestured back to the couch and followed her lead.
~ ~ ~ ~
“Wow,” Trent said.
“Right?”
He grabbed the remote and rewound the video. Jill decided she’d had enough and quietly excused herself to the kitchen.
Ten minutes later, Jill poked her head into the living room. She opened her mouth to ask how it was coming, but the words refused to come. Instead, she watched Trent methodically rewind the final scene repeatedly. Finally, she entered the room and put her hand on the man’s shoulder. Startled, he jumped at her touch, but didn’t take his eyes from the screen.
“Please stop watching that,” she said.
Trent didn’t acknowledge her. Instead, he chose to rewind the final twenty seconds one more time. This time, when it stopped, he set the remote control down.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Trent looked in her direction, but more through her than at her. He spoke, but Jill could tell the words weren’t intended for her.
“What is that? I’ve seen it … somewhere. I’ve seen that before.” He spoke softly, running his hands through his short, salt-and-pepper hair. “I almost have it. It’s just out of—no, I can’t go back there! I won’t! Honey, please, help me.”
Jill stepped forward, feeling as if she was eavesdropping. She didn’t know who he was talking to, but she could see he was hurting. And if she could help …
“Officer?” she said, “Trent? Are you okay?” She reached out a hand, gently touching his shoulder again. He flinched once more—only slightly this time—but he didn’t pull away. He merely looked through her again.
“I’m missing something,” Trent said. “Something big.”
Jill took a deep breath, moving her hand from his shoulder to his back, rubbing it slightly. “Let me help you.”
Trent tensed up. Jill could feel it in his back, cords and muscles twitching. She didn’t back down. Instead, she chose to dig in deeper to the Officer’s muscles.
Trent’s mind turned that last scene over in his mind, as the teenage girl massaged his shoulders. He would have told you he didn’t feel her hands as they kneaded into his muscles one moment and gently caressed the back of his neck the next. Finally, Trent jumped up, leaving Jill’s hands hanging in midair and turned to her, truly seeing her for the first time since Leo’s movie ended. “Jill,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders, “you have to take me to Kevin.”
“Right now?” she asked. “That’s what you want to do … right this minute?”
“Yes,” the Deputy said, not hearing the disappointment in her voice. “Do you know where he lives?”
“Yeah, of course, but—”
“Good! Grab your coat.”
“Fine,” she said, frustrated that the Deputy didn’t seem to hear or care about her frustration.
As they made the short trip to Kevin’s house, Trent drove by the apartment building where Jill spent the last evening. “You know something? Mr. Baker is going to be in real trouble.”
“Forget about him. That was a mistake. He didn’t care about me.”
“Of course he didn’t care about you. He’s a grown man. A teacher, for God’s sake. He’s supposed to help you grow, not … prey on you.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s over. Honestly.”
“It’s not over for him. Not by a long shot.”
Jill watched him grind his teeth as he considered the blowing snow, and she smiled.
~ ~ ~ ~
Ten minutes later, Trent pulled the cruiser in front of Kevin’s two-story home. There was a late model Pontiac buried in snow in the driveway, but the house looked empty.
“Did you get a hold of him through the Facebook or that Tweeter thing?”
Jill laughed. “Tweeter? You’re funny. Yeah, I messaged him on Twitter and told him we had some questions. He was surprised to hear from me, but said he was available.”
Trent nodded. “Good. Shall we go then?”
“That’s why we’re here.” She opened her door and Trent did the same.
Kevin’s mother answered the door. She didn’t wear a smile. “What is this regarding, Officer?”
“Kevin is not in any trouble, ma’am. I just have some questions about his friend, Leo. I hear they were close. I’m investigating the boy’s death. It could be very helpful.” Trent and Jill stood on the porch, struggling against the wind that buffeted them.
A young man, boy really, appeared behind the woman standing in the doorway. His hair was wet, like he had just showered, and it hung over his eyes. He wore blue jeans and an AFI t-shirt. He wasn’t a big AFI fan, but he knew that Jill was, and after his shower, it seemed like a good idea to throw it on. “Come on, Mom, let ‘em in for Christ’s sake.”
“Watch your tone, young man,” she said softly, stepping aside to let the two come in from the cold.
“Thank you, ma’am. I promise that we won’t take up much of your time.”
“Yes, you’re right. You won’t.”
“Jeez, Mom,” Kevin said. He turned to Jill and blushed. “Hi, Jill.”
Jill waved and smiled at him.
“Mom, this is Jill. We have some classes together.”
Kevin’s mother glanced at the girl, and then turned her focus back on Trent. “What is this about? I still don’t know why you’re here.”
“I’m here to learn a little more about Leo Barrows. His mother is counting on me. Jill told me that Kevin knew Leo well. I’m trying to get to know him, too, so I might learn what happened to him. Like I said, his mother and father are counting on me.”
Kevin’s mother softened a bit. “Leo
was a good kid. He and Kevin spent a good deal of time together over the years. I miss him.”
“Yes, ma’am. I have just a few questions. You are welcome to sit in with us, of course.”
“Very well.”
From behind them, Kevin said, “Come on in, guys, and take a seat.”
The four of them entered the living room. Trent and Jill sat on the couch, while Kevin sat on a footrest. His mother, refusing to sit, stood in the doorway looking over them all.
Kevin began unprompted. “I miss Leo a lot. Things didn’t end well between us, so this is especially hard.”
“What happened?” Trent asked. “Why didn’t things ‘end well’?”
Kevin shrugged. “I don’t really know.” He chuckled humorlessly.
“You two seemed very close to me,” Jill offered.
Kevin looked at her and blushed. “Yeah, we’ve been friends forever. Since before grade school, even. We would have been fine … if he was still here. He probably just needed a break from me, I guess.”
“Why do you think he needed a break from you?” Trent asked.
Kevin let out an exasperated breath. “I wish I knew. We were doing that stupid movie and it just …” He looked to Jill. “You saw what he was like back then.”
“It got weird, didn’t it?” she agreed.
“Shit, yeah, it did.”
“Kevin! Watch your mouth,” his mother said from the doorway.
“Sorry, Mom. Could you get us something to drink, please?”
She sighed and said, “Fine. What would everybody like?”
“Coffee sounds great,” Trent and Jill said simultaneously.
“Of course,” she said, before disappearing into the kitchen.
When his mother was gone, Kevin said, “About the last good thing I remember was setting the stage for what was supposed to be our first shot.”
“First shot?” Trent asked.
“The first scene for the movie, I mean.”
“Right. What do you remember about it?”
Kevin looked away and wiped his red-rimmed eyes with the back of his hand. “It was fun. That’s what I remember. I was hanging out with my best friend, and he was doing what he loved … and he was happy.” The boy hung his head in his hands. Jill blew her nose and wiped a tear from her eye.
The Complete Bleaker Trilogy Box-set Page 25