“You don’t even know for sure that’s who it is. You don’t even know for sure if they exist at all. You’re going off of one girl’s testimony. She could have been lying…”
“Whether that girl lied last year or not is irrelevant. We’re missing at least one girl, now! And again, I do not believe she is the one responsible for the death of the other ones at the camp. She just doesn’t have the strength…to do what was done to them…”
“Okay, Amanda, okay. But, what if you waste all this time searching for the pot farmers, when you should be searching for the missing girl? Do you get what I’m trying to say?”
She did. And, he made perfect sense. “Yes…but I have a feeling if I find her…I’ll find them…”
“What if you’re wrong? What if by hunting those areas you think these farmers might be hiding, you completely miss where the girl actually is?”
Again, he was right. She hadn’t thought of that possibility, either.
“Hold on,” said Paul. The C.B. clicked and went silent. He’d switched lines.
She pushed down the button on hers. “Paul?” He was gone. Something had come up, and he must be talking to someone else. She’d have to wait for him to come back.
Continuing the sluggish pace, she kept her eyes scanning everything. Maybe she should go on and park and start hiking. She had plenty of daylight to actually march into the woods, and a decent flashlight with a big bulb for when the sunlight left her. She tried to remember what all food supply she had in her bag. Seemed like there was trail mix, beef jerky, and a couple bottles of water. That would be enough for a few miles of hiking.
She’d been heading west since leaving the campsite. She’d found no trace of the campers’ car on her way in, so she was pretty confident she was heading in the right direction.
But, what if she wasn’t looking in the right spots?
It was doubtful that if the missing girl had been taken, her abductor(s) would have kept to the main path where anyone could drive along and spot them. Not that there was much risk out this far, maybe once every few months would that happen. Still, the chances of them keeping to the road were slim.
Paul’s voice came back. “Just got word that a medic unit is going to the camp to retrieve the bodies. Investigators have been dispatched to examine the scene.”
“Okay. Good.”
“I wish you were there to greet them.”
“They won’t need me to explain what happened out there. When they see it, they’ll know.”
And they’ll be just as scared as I am.
12
Megan heard the soft crunch of a footstep. Under the tree, her head down, she peeked over her forearm. The crunch repeated in a short succession, growing slightly louder as it neared.
Her body went rigid. She listened to the now obvious approach of footsteps growing closer.
Oh God…please no…don’t let him find me…God please…
“Megan?”
Her breath choked in her throat.
“Megan? Where are you?”
Allison?
“Where are you? I’m worried!”
“Al?”
“Megan!?!”
How was this possible? Allison was dead...
Wasn’t she?
Had to be. There was no way she could have survived that. No way.
But maybe…
“Megan!?!”
Alive or not, she needed to stop shouting.
“Al…over here.”
The soft crunch changed to a heavy patter as feet tore through the brush. The limbs around her began to shake. An opening formed in the green and her best friend, the girl she thought had been slain right in front of her, emerged from the trees.
Allison looked just as mangled as she had when Megan left her at the camp. At least now her face was on the correct side of her body, save a lumpy mess of loose flesh dangling around her neck like a skin scarf about to fall to off. Her lips had gone purple and crackly. She had dark circles around her eyes that made it look as if she was wearing sunglasses.
The blood stains on her skin had turned from red to light brown, coagulated patches that looked like old streaked paint. “There you are,” she said, getting down on one knee. As she did her body made awful popping sounds. Her head suddenly collapsed sideways with an arthritic crackle. “Whoops.” She gripped a handful of her tangled, straw-like hair, and pulled her head back up right. “What are you doing back here?”
“Huh-hiding…” Her face scrunched up. “How…is it possible?”
“What?”
“You’re alive. How…?” She held up her hand, waved it up and down to indicate the damage done to her. “You’re…how?”
“I pretended to be dead, just like I did the first time. I think he believed it this time. Wouldn’t you?”
Megan looked at the bulges in Allison’s neck pressing against her overextended skin. That had to be bones, broken bones jutting in multiple directions.
I’ve lost my damn mind.
Allison studied Megan suspiciously. “You are glad to see me, aren’t you?”
Of course she was. That was a stupid question. But, seeing her like this? No. She wasn’t happy about what happened to friend because Megan was too frightened to come out of the tent and help her.
If you would have, you’d look just like her.
Then it should have been like that. Both of them should be a mess.
Megan realized she hadn’t answered Allison. “You know I’m happy you’re okay.”
“I’m not okay. I’m alive, though.”
The hell you are. I’ve gone bonkers. Completely bonkers! This is the moment I’ll always remember as the time I went batshit crazy.
Allison motioned for her to stand up. “Come on…let’s go.”
“Where?”
“To the car. I found it.” She thrust her chin in a direction separate from where she’d been heading, and her head craned back with a snap. “Dammit. This is annoying.” She repeated the grab and pull procedure to get her head situated correctly.
Grimacing, Megan stared at Allison in all of her disfigured glory. There was no chance she could have simply waited for the maniac to get out of sight, go find the car, and come back to tell Megan about it.
Allison continued talking. “We were way off. Sorry about that. I thought I could have found it, but we were moving in the wrong direction. We have to go this other way. It’s a shortcut.”
“A shortcut?”
“Yeah.” Allison looked at her in that accusatory way again. “Don’t you believe me?”
“I find it a little hard to believe you walked all that distance and back in such a short time looking like…”
“Looking like what?”
“Like the way you look.”
“Hmm.” Allison crossed her arms. They crunched as they folded across her puffy, gray-colored breasts. “The way I look, huh? Real nice. I’m here to help you and you make fun of how messed up I am. Don’t you think I’m already self-conscious enough about it? I thought you of all people wouldn’t judge me! That’s great, Meg, just great.”
Megan sighed. Now she’d pissed off a figment of her shattered imagination. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“You’re fucking right you shouldn’t have. Quit being a bitch and believe me when I tell you I can get you out of here.”
Perhaps she should trust Allison. This is crazy. And it was. She briefly entertained the idea she might be sleeping, or most likely, dead. Maybe Allison was here to lead her to Hell. But, she didn’t think so. The elements were way too tangible. She could smell the woods, the watermelon scent of the grass, and the sweetness of the pinecones. The breeze on her skin was soft and cool like tiny kisses. Birds triumphantly chirped with no care. Leaves rustled in the trees like whispering voices.
She was awake. Allison was here. And, this was happening whether Megan wanted it to be or not.
“I’m sorry,” she told Allison. “I’
ll stop being a bitch.”
Allison smiled at that. “Good. Now get up.” She staggered away, her head clanking to the right.
Groaning, Megan leaned up, then crawled under the sagging limbs. Their gaunt tips scratched across her arms. Sweat seeped into the abrasions and burned as if a lit match had been placed against her skin. The gash on her calf stung as it stretched and pulled with her movements.
Resurfacing from her hiding spot, she stood up and stretched. Her cramped muscles relaxed a little but they still felt hard and achy. It was brighter out here and she needed to narrow her watery eyes against the blazing sunlight. This would be the perfect time for the maniac to pounce, unable to see him if he came at her. As she pushed herself upright, using the tree to help her stand, she expected the heavy clout of his machete across her back.
It didn’t come.
She rubbed her eyes, smearing the squint-caused tears. From where she stood, she looked around. She didn’t see the man but wouldn’t be surprised if he was there. By now, he’d probably become a professional at blending into the woods.
“Are you going to stand there all day?” said Allison, stepping around from a tree a few feet away. “Let’s go.”
Leaning against the tree, Megan nodded. She winced as she shoved herself forward with a shoulder.
Allison’s nose wrinkled as if she smelled something foul. “You don’t look so hot yourself, Meg. He do that to you?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Wow. He’s a strong one, that’s for sure. Just look at what he did to me!” Allison chuckled. “You got off lucky, though.”
“For now.”
Allison nodded. “Yep. For now.”
Megan joined Allison and together they started walking.
13
They shirked along in silence. Megan dragged her feet, stolidly moving as if on autopilot. Her head hung low. She watched her shoes, one stepping, the other vanishing, then they repeated. Nothing registered beyond the small space of ground that she could see.
Allison’s body crunched beside her with each jolt of a footstep. Each time sounded like she had stepped on a puddle of acorns. She still couldn’t accept the fact that she’d survived such a brutal attack.
There’s no way she survived. Your bonkers!
Megan frowned.
Maybe I am dead after all.
She couldn’t accept that, either.
Wondering what time it was, Megan looked at the sky as if she could somehow determine it that way. The only conclusion she could attain by doing this was it was daylight.
“Look at that,” said Allison.
“Huh?”
Allison had stopped walking. She was looking to the left of them. Megan followed her line of sight through the woods to a small clearing in the trees. It took a moment to train her eyes.
A shack—more like an extemporized hut—had been constructed amongst the trees. Covered in leaves and vines, the shoddy structure looked as if it had been haphazardly pieced together by whatever means necessary. And, it looked as if those had been scarce.
But, it was something. Shelter. And, Megan couldn’t help feeling a slight trace of alleviation.
“Thank God,” said Allison.
Megan said, “Do you think anyone lives in there?”
“They might.” Allison was already heading towards it.
“What are you doing?”
“Going to knock on the door.”
“No, wait…”
Allison stopped, gripped her hair, and twisted her head around so she could look at Megan. “What for?”
“We can’t just walk up to it. What if someone’s inside?”
“Isn’t that the point of going to knock?”
Megan huffed. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. There’s no telling what kind of person lives in there.”
“If anyone even does.”
That was a chance Megan didn’t want to take, but before she could retort, Allison was already heading to it. Her head was back on right; however, she was still gripping it by the hair.
Megan jogged to catch up. There weren’t any trails out here, so they were walking right through the high grass. She looked down, making sure she wasn’t about to step down on any snakes. Copperheads were the most common around these parts, but she’d seen more than one rattler in the mountains. And, she’d learned that they loved tall grass. You never knew they were out here until you were right on top of them and by then you were feeling a double shot of needle-like stings as poison was injected into your bloodstream.
With everything else that had happened so far, she expected any time she would feel that whipping bite.
Thankfully that never happened.
Allison and Megan reached the hut.
There was no door, only a sagging tarp. As Megan examined further, she realized the entire structure had been assembled from tarps and black plastic. Resembling an army tent more than an actual house or dwelling of some kind, the trees around it had been used as posts, the tarps and plastic wrapped around.
“Some place, huh?” said Allison.
“Quiet. Someone might hear you.”
“Oh please. Who do you think would actually live in there?”
“No one I want to meet.”
“Whatever. You know as well as I do this place is empty.”
“I don’t care. Let’s keep moving.”
Allison turned on a creaky neck to see her. “You’re being a bitch again.”
“Why? Because I’m disagreeing with you?”
“That’s one of the reasons…”
“Jesus.”
“You never know what we might find in there. Maybe something we can use.”
“And maybe someone else just as fucked up as the maniac that did this to us.”
With a sigh, Allison took the crinkly curtain in her hand. “Do I have to do everything?” She started to gradually pull the tarp back.
As Megan watched, she sucked her finger back into her mouth, and nervously chewed on the tip. By this point, she no longer cared how gnawed up it had become.
The flap was opened enough that Allison could enter so she did. Slipped right through the space and vanished as if sucked into a black hole.
Megan hesitated. “Al?”
Nothing.
“Answer me, Al.”
A few seconds passed and there was no response.
“Dammit, Al!”
The tarp snapped back. Megan started with a squeal.
Allison poked her coiled neck out. “What’s your deal?”
“Why didn’t you answer?”
“I was trying to check it out.”
“What’d you find?”
“Can’t tell much. It’s too damn dark in there. My eyes didn’t have time to adjust.”
“Was anyone inside?”
“Not that I could tell. I’m sure we would have heard about it by now if there was.”
“Ready to move on?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Annoyed, she said, “Because we haven’t searched the place yet. Might be some stuff we can use.” Her head disappeared behind the canvas.
“Damn.” Megan was going to have to go inside. Tugging the tarp back, she checked over her shoulder for the maniac. He wasn’t back there anywhere, just a barrier of trees. But she could feel that he was nearby. Somehow she sensed him. Did he sense her?
Probably.
At least this little hut offered some kind of concealment.
Hardly anything to celebrate.
She took a deep breath, pulled back the tarp, then slipped inside.
The luminance from outside dematerialized, shrouding her in darkness as if a rock had been pushed in front of the opening. She noticed stabs of light, coming from tiny holes in what she guessed was meant to be the ceiling.
And, it reeked in here. Making a face, she cupped a hand over her nose and mouth.
“Oh yuck,” said Allison from ahead.
Megan strained her
eyes and could just vaguely see a paler shape moving about the blackness. She headed towards her. Leaves carpeted the ground and crunched like wadded paper each time a foot came down.
Her eyes began to adjust. She could see a little better; not much, but she could make out shapes and objects. She spotted a table to her left covered with a filthy sheet. To the right was a makeshift cot on the ground. Sheets had been bundled up for a mattress with an old, yellowed pillow at the top.
Even further in, she found a pile of soiled laundry: more blankets and various clothes as high as Megan’s waist. She moved passed it and the smell became much stronger. It brought tears to her eyes and she could taste it on her tongue.
Her shoe tapped against something. There was a tinny thump. She looked down, finding a tin bucket at her feet where the tarps met, signaling she’d reached the end of the housing. Dried fecal matter crusted the insides of the bucket. A hole had been cut in the bottom. She could see a narrow conduit leading out from behind the bucket and continuing under the tarp, probably to a do-it-yourself latrine outside.
Megan gagged. She coughed behind her hand.
Enough!
She was ready to get out of here. “All right…it’s time to…” Looking around, she didn’t see Allison anywhere. “Al?” No response.
Had she slipped out?
Hurrying to the front flap, she brought it open. Brightness splashed into the darkened space.
Squinting against the sunlight, she noticed movement farther out in the woods. She blinked against the tears misting her eyes. Half-blinded, she began to make out a smear of a shape heading towards her. At first, she thought it might be Allison. Then she realized the color was all wrong. Allison had been wearing pastel-hued pajamas, and these were much darker.
The person was larger in size. And, carried something in his hand. Something big.
Wide-eyed, she gasped, “Oh shit!”
It was him!
Oblivious to her, he was heading in her direction. She dropped the flap, stumbling back inside. Panning her head this way and that, she searched for a place to hide. All she saw was leaves, a clothed table, and a pile of rubbish.
Megan chose the rubbish.
She darted for the dungy fabrics and dropped to her knees. Grimacing, she dug her hands into the damp pile. Her plan was to burrow her way in, then curl into a ball and hope he wouldn’t notice her.
Last One Alive Page 5