by John Kess
Molly slowly smiled, as if she was formulating a plan, and then trudged through the water toward me. She held out her hand. “Will you let me teach you?”
I would have let Molly lead me into a river of lava. I took her hand and she pulled me into the river. Soon we were in waist-deep water. I could feel the slight current and was about to protest going any farther when Molly stopped.
“The first thing you need to know,” Molly said, still holding my hand, “is how to float. If you can’t float, you sink to the bottom and die, and I don’t want my first student dying on me.” She smiled. “We’ll start with floating on your back. Two things to remember: you must relax, and your butt is an anchor, so don’t let it drop.”
She stood next to me as she lowered me backwards into the water, holding one hand behind my head and the other behind my lower back. The cold water rushed up my back and around my sides. I panicked and bent at the waist, dropping myself underwater, thrashing as I went down.
Molly pulled me back onto my feet. “Relax.”
I stood back up, and we tried again.
“Trust me,” Molly said, as she lowered me into the water. Soon I was completely flat, my feet drifting up as Molly held me at the surface. One of her hands applied pressure to my back and the other to my head. Slowly she let go of my back as water flowed over my stomach, and for a few moments I thought I’d sink farther, but to my surprise I remained on the surface. Everything about this felt weird, like I was in midair while jumping on a trampoline. Molly moved around to the top of my head. I could feel the river current flow around me as Molly held me in place with both of her hands. I had never trusted anyone like this before, and it was wonderful.
She looked down at me. “Look at you. You’re a natural. I’m going to let go and see if you can float all by yourself. Just relax.”
The pressure behind my head lessened and then it was gone. The water played with my ears and briefly near my nose and mouth. I jerked my arms in and my torso went under.
“Relax,” Molly said, catching me. “I’ve got you.” She held my head for a moment and then let go again, and this time I was able to float on my own. Next, she had me stand and then get myself to float without her help. After a few unsuccessful tries, I had it figured out.
Molly watched me as I floated toward her. She disappeared under the water and then popped right back up.
“You’re doing great. Hey, hold this for me.” She placed a rock the size of a softball on my stomach. Both of my hands went for it and water rushed over my face. I quickly stood, pushing the rock away.
Molly giggled playfully. I trudged after her in waist-deep water. As soon as I got close she dove under and tried to swim by me.
I reached out and grabbed her around the waist, lifted her up above the water, and dropped her gently back in.
Molly laughed as she stood next to me. “Now you need to learn the dead man’s float. Then I’ll show you how to tread water.”
“Why do they call it the dead man’s float?”
“Because that’s what you’ll be if you don’t learn it.”
* * *
We returned to our campsite and ate a late supper of turkey jerky and dried apples. We took turns in the tent changing into our black clothes. Molly wore black jeans and turned her black sweatshirt inside out to hide the logo, and I wore dark green pants with a black hooded sweatshirt. She sat facing me on the crumbling rock wall surrounding our tent, holding face paint.
“Close your eyes,” she said.
She used her finger to rub the face paint under my eyes, forehead, chin, and nose.
The sun was going down and, luckily, so was the temperature.
“You look like a special-ops soldier,” she said.
“Nice,” I said, keeping my eyes closed.
When she was finished she handed me the container and closed her eyes. I started with her forehead.
“It tickles,” she said.
“Hold still.”
“Okay.”
She let me smear the black paint under her eyes, on her nose, and down around her chin.
“You said this will wash off, right?” Molly asked.
“After a few weeks.”
“Ha, ha!” she laughed sarcastically.
“Okay, open your eyes.” The bright whites of Molly’s blue eyes were magnified with the black face paint around them. “You look like a ninja assassin.”
She smiled. “I wish I had a mirror.”
We set off with a small backpack containing our flashlights and the night-vision goggles, binoculars, and spotting scope. Wiz’s backlit GPS unit led the way. It was more difficult navigating the forest with the sun down. Trees we had moved around with ease during the day now forced us to be more cautious of small, head-high branches. Molly stayed close behind me as we walked single file.
It took an hour to find the house. We climbed the same hill and lay shoulder to shoulder once again as we watched the house with our spotting scope and binoculars.
The house looked as empty as before. Other than a yard light near the barn, everything was dark. The carport next to the barn was empty.
“Nobody’s home,” I said.
I searched the house with the spotting scope for any signs of movement but found nothing.
“Let’s give it some time,” Molly said. She turned over and lay on her back. “Dylan, look at that.”
I turned over and stared up at a bright mass of glowing stars.
“You don’t get a sky like this in Boston,” Molly said. “Did you see that?”
“Oh, cool! I love meteor showers.”
“I’ve never seen one before.”
A moment later another meteor cut a white crease across the sky. We watched in silence as a dozen more appeared at random.
“Sometimes I’d find Hannah lying on the grass outside watching the stars,” I said.
“One of the memories I have of my dad,” Molly said, “was when we rented a cabin in the middle of nowhere. We were sitting on a dock late one night and he told me to look up at the sky full of stars. While I was looking up he said, ‘Beautiful isn’t it?’ I said ‘Yeah.’ Then he said, ‘It’s still not as beautiful as you,’ and he hugged me.”
I looked over at her. “He was right.”
Through the dark I could see Molly look at me. I smiled at her and returned to staring at the sky. My brain tugged me in two directions as I struggled with my feelings for Molly and the fact that I should be focused on finding Hannah. Molly’s hand took mine.
A few minutes later we heard the growing sound of an engine. Molly let go of my hand as we rolled over to our original positions. Headlights moved toward us down the driveway. A Ford Bronco pulled into the carport next to the barn. A man and his black lab got out.
“Oh, no,” I said, looking at the dog, which tore across the yard and found a ball. The man opened the back of the Bronco and gathered two paper grocery bags and a gallon of milk. He whistled to himself as he closed the door and carried his load to the house.
“It doesn’t look like enough groceries for two,” Molly whispered, “unless he goes to the store a lot.”
“He’ll go to check on Hannah right away, if she’s here.”
The man opened the storm door and set the groceries inside, then walked out into the yard and picked up a ball.
“Pepper! Here, boy.”
“Get ready to move,” I said, putting my spotting scope in my bag. Molly handed me her binoculars.
The man grabbed the ball from Pepper and threw it across the yard. Pepper ran after it in a mad dash and brought it back to his owner. The man threw the ball a few more times, each time changing the location. Then he threw it up the hill toward Molly and me. It landed a few feet to our left.
“Let’s go,” I said, as I stayed low and helped Molly up. We ran down the back side of the hill toward the forest as Pepper let out a series of barks and a low growl. The hill was full of tall grass that made it hard to run. I looked at Molly as she
jumped over a branch. The lab howled as it ran after us.
“Pepper!” the man shouted.
I looked back and saw a dark shadow cruise down the hill straight toward us.
“Pepper, get back here!” the man shouted.
I grabbed Molly’s hand as we hit the tree line and wove in and out of trees.
The dog barked and howled as it stopped at the tree line, letting us retreat deeper into the forest.
“What is it, boy?” We heard the man say in the distance as we continued to run. After I knew the dog wasn’t following us anymore, I stopped. We both bent over, our hands on our knees, trying to catch our breath. Molly laughed as she put her hand on my shoulder.
“Talk about a crazy first stakeout,” she said. “I think if Hannah had been in the house, he’d have gone inside right away.”
“Yeah. And you’re right. He would have had more groceries.” I looked at my watch. “It’s still early. What do you say we take a different route back to the tent?”
“I’m up for it. Lead the way.”
* * *
We spent an hour following a small stream under the light of the stars. We were peeling off toward our campsite when we heard a car door slam. I motioned for Molly to follow me. I heard voices.
A campfire glowed through the trees. Molly and I got down on our hands and knees as we crept closer.
Three boys and two girls, all about Hannah’s age, were sitting in a ring around the fire. One boy got up and walked to an SUV parked in the distance on the opposite side of the fire.
“Luke, get me one too,” a boy’s voice said.
“Coming right up,” Luke said.
I could see the faces of three of them. The two girls, Gina and Erin, were in Hannah’s class, and Blake Weldon was sitting between them. Blake looked tired as he stared at the fire.
“Jake, where did you say he got it?” Erin asked.
“His older brother.”
I crawled as far as I dared and Molly moved up next to me.
Molly cupped her hand over my ear and whispered, “Do you recognize any of them?”
“I know those three,” I whispered pointing at Blake, Gina, and Erin, “but I don’t know Luke or Jake. I think they’re all in Hannah’s class.”
Luke returned from the SUV with three beer cans. “Here you go.” He handed one to Erin and another to Jake. The third he cracked open for himself. “This is great. It’s a beautiful night, we’ve got a good fire, and we’ve got beer.”
“Don’t forget hot girls,” Jake said.
“Yes, very hot,” Luke said.
Blake Weldon didn’t say a word, and I noticed he wasn’t drinking anything. He just stared at the fire for awhile and then slid forward in his chair to stare up at the stars, while those around him talked about beer and someone’s cousin who was having a party next weekend.
“Hey Blake, what are you doing next weekend?” Luke asked.
Blake stayed in his reclined position. “My parents are dragging me to my aunt’s house. It’s a four-hour drive and I’m not looking forward to it.”
“That sucks,” Erin said.
“You’ll miss a good party,” Gina said. “Alyssa told me he’s got three kegs lined up.”
“Three,” Luke said. “That’s fine for us.” He motioned to Jake. “But what is everyone else going to drink?”
“I’m calling B.S. on Alyssa,” Jake said. “You watch. There won’t be any kegs.”
They proceeded to argue about it and Jake shouted, “She’s lying. She always lies about stuff like that.”
“You know what else Alyssa told me,” Gina said, turning to face Blake. “Hannah Beachley was completely in love with you.”
Blake rolled his head and looked at her.
“Why did you have to go and tell him that?” Jake asked.
“Yeah, a lot of good that little bit of info does him now,” Luke said.
“I just told you what Alyssa told me,” Gina said. “They were best friends, so she would know.”
“Alyssa’s right. It was obvious,” Jake said.
“I thought you said she was a liar,” Luke said.
“She is when she’s talking about other people’s parties.”
“Well, Blake, what do you think?” Erin asked.
The first silence hit the small crowd as they all looked at Blake.
He slowly sat up in his chair. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“You don’t think they’re going to find her?” Erin asked.
“No,” Blake said.
“Why not?” Gina asked.
“It’s been what, a month?” Blake said. “No leads, no suspects. Most kidnappings end like this. I really hope she’s alive, but it doesn’t look good.”
“He’s right,” Luke said. “The majority of victims are never heard from again. Even if they catch the guy, the odds of her being alive are slim.”
I put my head down and thought about Hannah. I pictured her standing at the stairs laughing before she went to bed the night she was taken. Anger swelled up inside me.
“I hope she’s dead,” Jake said.
I popped my head back up.
“What did you say?” Blake asked.
“If what you say is true—no leads, no suspects, and they aren’t going to be able to find her—it would be better if she’s dead.”
“What? Are you serious?” Erin asked.
“I am,” Jake said.
“Okay, Hannibal Lecter,” Luke said.
“No, I’m serious, and you know why. You’re all thinking it. You just won’t say it.”
“Say what?” Blake said.
“If she’s still alive, what is he doing to her?”
“You mean like forcing her to listen to polka music?” Luke asked.
“Oh, that’s real mature,” Gina said.
“Oh, and hoping she’s dead is better?” Luke replied.
“No,” Jake said, sounding angry. “Put the pieces together. The guy targeted Hannah. It wasn’t some random abduction. He knew enough to know where she slept. He wanted her alive and was willing to risk breaking into her house. I mean, he broke into a cop’s house! The house had other people in it at the time. Now that’s determination. Then you have to ask, why did he want her? What was he planning to do with her? Hannah is really hot. You think he wanted a partner for board games? Is that what you think? None of you are willing to say it, but you all know why he took her. If she’s alive, I can’t imagine the hell she’s going through right now.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the group like a midnight fog.
I put my head down in my hands as a tear rolled down my cheek.
Molly put her arm around my shoulders and gave me a hug. “Don’t listen to him, Dylan,” she whispered.
“We have to leave,” I whispered as more tears flowed. I crawled for a little while, then stood and walked away.
“Even if what you say is true,” Blake said in the distance, “I hope she’s still alive. I hope she holds on and comes home. The sooner the better.”
I wiped my eyes and heard Molly walking just behind me as we moved far from the group toward our campsite.
I remembered Amy telling me the man had a gun. I remembered feeling the grip of my bat as I got to the top of the stairs and the shock of finding Hannah’s room empty. Again I saw the open front door and heard Hannah’s scream.
I stopped moving through the trees and Molly’s hand found my back. Both of my hands covered my eyes as I lost the battle to hold back my tears.
Molly put her arms around me.
“Why?” I said. “Why didn’t I wake up? Why didn’t I hear him? Why didn’t I do anything?”
“You didn’t know,” Molly said, as she held me.
“I’m sorry, Molly.”
“Don’t say that. You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“I’m sorry you know me.”
“Dylan, don’t say—.”
“I’m going to kill him. I’m going to find h
im and I’m going to kill him.”
“Shhh. Don’t say that.”
“I know what happened. I’m sure of it. He pointed his gun at Hannah and told her he’d kill Amy and me if she didn’t stay quiet. I’m sure that’s what he did. That’s why Hannah didn’t scream. I want him dead. You shouldn’t be around me.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Molly squeezed me in her arms.
“I failed her. I failed her, Molly. It’s that simple.”
“You’re not a failure. Far from it. Hannah is lucky to have a brother like you.”
I cried like I was five years old. Molly wrapped her arms around me as weeks of bottled-up pain poured out.
Chapter 5
Molly and I spent the next day searching another area. We found an old junked car from the 1940s and an outhouse that was collapsing on itself, but no sign of Hannah or anyone else. We returned to our camp and ate the last of our canned food for supper. All we had left were some granola bars, so we decided we needed to resupply.
We got up early the following day. The cool air was refreshing as we broke camp and found the shortest route back to the trail. We handed another dozen flyers to hikers we passed as we made our way back home.
The Appalachian Trail opened to the highway that ran in front of my house. Molly looked exhausted and I was sure I looked the same. We agreed to go home, take a nap, and meet back at my house which would give us enough daylight left to hike to our next area. I’d spent the last three days and nights with Molly, and now we were each going back to our homes. I hated the thought of her being around Tony.
We smiled at each other and said goodbye, then walked in opposite directions down the ditch.
I walked through the front door of my parents’ house at 10:30 a.m. on Thursday. I had left with Molly on Monday morning to start searching.
Molly and I had only slept five hours last night, so all I wanted was a shower and some sleep. It occurred to me, as I shut the front door, that I still hadn’t spoken to either Mom or Dad in about three weeks.