314 (Widowsfield Trilogy) Page 21

  Stephen got out of the van’s side door and came over to speak with Paul and Alma. Aubrey followed behind him and Jacker got out as well. Rachel stayed in the van.

  “Aubrey was right,” said Stephen. “There’s a guard shack up there.”

  Paul and Alma got off the bike and tried to look at the fence that blocked their way.

  “You okay, Alma?” asked Stephen. “You’re as white as a ghost.”

  Paul looked back at her and took off his sunglasses. “He’s right. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” said Alma. “I guess I was just a little cold or something.”

  “Want to ride in the van for a bit?” asked Stephen.

  “No, I’ll be fine.”

  “So what’s the plan?” asked Paul. “How are we going to get in if they’ve got it all fenced up?”

  “That’s where Aubrey comes in,” said Stephen.

  “My friends and I used to sneak in all the time,” said Aubrey. “There’s a small dirt road on the north side of town that used to belong to a farmer. It goes through his field, and into the town. They’ve got a gate up there, but I’ve never seen a guard.”

  “And we can get the van in through there?” asked Paul.

  “No, not yet,” said Stephen. “We’re going to have to leave the van and your bike in the field for now. We’ll head into town on foot, and find the cabin that you used to stay at,” he said as he looked at Alma. “Then tonight, after dark, we’ll come back out and use a bolt cutter on the gate’s lock. We can probably get away with driving the van with the headlights off, but we might have to push your bike in. We can’t risk the noise.”

  “I don’t know,” said Paul. “This seems kind of risky. Are you even going to be able to use any of the footage you get in there? If it’s private property, can’t they sue you for airing anything you record?”

  “You sound like my wife,” said Stephen. His tone revealed at least part of why Rachel was acting angry. They must’ve been arguing this same issue last night. “It’ll be fine. Anything that we film in the cabin could’ve been filmed anywhere. No way they can prove we went in the town, as long as we don’t get caught.”

  “I don’t know, man,” said Paul. “This seems like a bad idea.”

  “I never thought of you as the law-abiding type,” said Stephen. “Aren’t you up for a little adventure?”

  “I’m not in this for adventure,” said Paul. “I’m in it to help Alma.” He looked down at her and asked, “What do you want to do?”

  Alma looked down the road at the fence, and then back at the woods that they’d passed through. It felt like she’d already taken her first step into this nightmare, and if she soldiered on then she could put an end to this part of her life. “We’re already here,” she said. “Might as well get it over with. I say we go in.”

  It was clear that Paul didn’t agree, but he stood beside her and nodded. “Then it’s settled, we’re going in.”

  Stephen clapped his hands once and looked delighted. “Let’s go!” He didn’t bother prolonging the conversation, fully aware that once the customer was sold it was time to shut up and take the money. He ushered Jacker and Aubrey back to the van and within a minute they were back on the road.

  They headed north and Alma looked out at the fence that had been erected around the town. It looked like a prison, with razor wire looped around the top of the outer fence, and a second barrier behind it. The road curved closer to the fence and Alma saw movement from within the town. There was a white truck with a yellow light bar on top driving through Widowsfield. She assumed it was a security patrol, which didn’t help ease her tension about their plan.

  Soon they passed where the fence turned, and entered another wooded area. Aubrey was leading Jacker as the van turned off onto a dirt road that went up a slight incline. Once they crested the hill there was a wide field beyond. It was once a farm, but had been overgrown with tall weeds, though no trees had made their way into the acreage.

  Jacker drove along what had once been a road, but was now barely a dimple in the weeds, and the van struggled through the overgrowth. Paul stayed back near the hill and watched the van push through the field. Alma heard him curse, but couldn’t discern what he was saying over the hum of his engine. He motioned for her to get off the bike, and when she did he turned it, drove off the path, and then parked in the wooded area. He turned off the engine and got off.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Alma.

  “This isn’t a dirt bike,” he said as he took off his helmet. “I’m not risking riding through this shit.”

  “So we’re walking then?” asked Alma.

  “I guess so.” He hung his helmet by its strap over his handlebar. Alma did the same with hers and then took his hand as they started down the hill.

  “Thanks for doing this,” said Alma.

  “Like I told you, you’re my girl. I’m not about to let you come out here with these yahoos by yourself.”

  They held hands as they walked through the field. Alma enjoyed her time alone with Paul, and they talked about their plans after this was all over. Alma was excited to return to school, and set up her new music room. Paul was going to try to get a job at a motorcycle shop on the south side where a friend of his worked. They discussed their relationship, and laughed about how things had gone wrong for them in the past. Alma chided Paul on the way his apartment used to be so messy, and he promised that he didn’t live like a sloppy college kid anymore.

  Geese flew above them, away from Widowsfield and to the north. Alma watched them go, somewhat envious. Despite how happy she was to be with Paul, there was a creeping dread that heightened with each step. No matter how much she tried to ignore it, she knew she was walking back into the worst moment of her life. Despite her desire to leave this behind, here she was, walking right back into hell.

  Like summer fades to fall, and winter gives way to spring, this was inevitable. Alma Harper was willingly walking back into Widowsfield.

  Her respite had ended.

  314

  PART THREE : THE COIL’S END

  CHAPTER 15 - Beyond the Shroud

  March 12th, 2012

  Alma and Paul caught up with the others at the locked gate at the edge of the farm. Only a single bar was set over the road, hinged on one side and padlocked on the other, but the fence connected on either side of it. They would have to break the lock to get the vehicles in, but they could worry about that at night.

  “This is it,” said Aubrey. She stood near the gate, alone. Alma wanted to hate her, which was a catty response to the stranger’s sudden interloping, but she felt sorry for her at that moment. Aubrey looked uncomfortable, and aware that coming on this trip had caused tension between Rachel and Stephen for some reason.

  Rachel was still in the passenger seat of the van, which had been pulled off to the side in an attempt to hide in the weeds. Stephen and Jacker had plucked out some of the lighter equipment and were trying to figure out what they should bring, and what should be left behind for now.

  “God, this is creepy,” said Alma as she walked up to the gate. The dirt road led past a decrepit farmhouse and down a hill, past the barn, to a paved road.

  “You can say that again.” Aubrey crossed her arms and shivered though it wasn’t cold. “I didn’t wear the right outfit for this.”

  Alma looked at the girl’s short skirt and designer boots. “Yeah, I’d have to agree with you on that one.”

  “I was trying to look cute for him,” she nodded back in the direction of the guys as they unloaded the van.

  “Who?” asked Alma. “Stephen? He’s married.”

  “No, not him. Jacker.”

  “Oh, really?” asked Alma, surprised and excited. Her initial reaction was dulled when she recalled what Paul had told her about Jacker. She liked him, and loved the idea of him hooking up with a cute girl like Aubrey, but the darker side of Jacker was still a mystery to Alma.

  “Do you know him well?” asked Aubrey. “He se
ems like a nice guy.”

  “I just met him. He’s a friend of my boyfriend.”

  “Paul, right?” asked Aubrey. “He’s a hunk.”

  “Eyes off the prize, sweetheart,” said Alma.

  Aubrey smiled and laughed, her dimples in full effect. “Don’t worry, I’m no home wrecker. No matter what some people seem to think.” She glanced at Rachel who was still sitting in the passenger seat.

  “Did she say something?” asked Alma, worried that Rachel had ripped into the new recruit.

  “No, that’s the problem. She hasn’t said two words to me this whole trip. It’s super uncomfortable in there.”

  “I’ll talk to her, and try to see what’s up. Trust me, she’s a sweetie once you get to know her. I’m sure she’s just pissed off about something else. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  Stephen opened the passenger door of the van. “Time to go.” He walked away from Rachel, uncaring and cold.

  Alma looked at Aubrey and grimaced comically.

  “Told ya,” said Aubrey. “They were quite the delight to drive with, let me tell you.”

  Alma patted Aubrey on the back and then walked over to the van. Rachel was still in her seat with the door open when Alma approached. “Hey there.”

  “Hi, Alma,” said Rachel.

  “So, what’s the deal?”

  “With what?”

  “With the bitchy-wife routine?”

  Rachel glared down at Alma from her seat in the van. “Don’t you start on me too.”

  Alma stepped on the footrest and rose up so that she was closer to Rachel. “I’m on your side here. I don’t even know what’s wrong and I’m still on your side. Now tell me what happened”

  “I don’t really want to talk about it,” said Rachel.

  “You two coming?” asked Stephen. He was standing with the others near the gate. They were ready to go, with bags of equipment slung over their shoulders.

  “Tell him he can go fuck himself,” said Rachel so that only Alma could hear.

  “We’ll meet up with you in a minute,” Alma yelled over to Stephen.

  The others begrudgingly left them behind.

  “Are you coming? Or are you just going to sit in the van all day?”

  Rachel eventually got out and slammed the car door shut. They started to follow the others down the hill and past the farmhouse.

  “Now,” said Alma, “tell me what’s bugging you.”

  “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  “Oh no,” said Alma. “I’m not letting you get away with that after you made me tell you everything about Paul and me. I can’t afford to take you out and buy you new clothes, a manicure, a haircut, and all that stuff to butter you up until you talk, but I can pester you until you tell me what’s wrong.”

  “It’s a long story,” said Rachel.

  “Then you might as well start talking.”

  Rachel grinned at Alma. “You would’ve made a good reporter. You know that?”

  “Come on, out with it. What’s up?”

  “Okay, but you have to keep this between us. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  Rachel sighed and ruffled her curly hair as she scratched her scalp. “Stephen and I haven’t had the greatest marriage in history. We’ve had some tough times, and I mean really tough times.”

  “I can relate,” said Alma.

  “He’s a good looking guy, and could’ve gotten pretty much any girl he wanted.”

  “And you’re a gorgeous girl who could get any man she wanted,” said Alma. “What’s your point?”

  “Well, he had a history, back in college, of getting with a lot of girls. I don’t mind about that or anything. Well, that’s a lie, of course. I obsess over that type of stuff. But that’s all in the past. There’s nothing we can do about it.”

  “Better to just leave that stuff buried,” said Alma. “I do my best to just pretend Paul’s never seen another naked woman besides me.” Alma and Rachel shared a laugh.

  “Stephen had a definite type back in the day. I’ve seen pictures of his old girlfriends and they all look the same: Petite, thin, with blonde hair and tattoos. It’s fucking ridiculous. Every damn girl looks like a carbon copy of the one before until you get to me.” She motioned at her body. “A red haired, tattoo-less, chubby girl.”

  “Chubby?” asked Alma, perturbed. “Are you crazy?”

  “Look at these hips,” said Rachel. “I look like I’m hiding watermelons down here.” She slapped her thighs.

  “Oh my God, Rachel,” said Alma. “You seriously need to shut up right now. You are the cutest damn girl I’ve ever seen. I’d give anything to have your curves instead of my Olive Oyl, broomstick body. If I ever hear you call yourself chubby again, I’m going to slap you.”

  “Well, thanks, I think,” said Rachel. “Anyhow, last night Stephen texted me that he was headed to the bar with Jacker. I told him to have a good time and that I’d meet him up in our room. I got back to the hotel early and thought I’d go have a drink with them at the bar. Then I get there and find the two of them whooping it up with…” she motioned out at Aubrey and stumbled on her description. “With that little pixie-tart.”

  “Blonde hair,” said Alma. “Tattoos. I get it.”

  “Right,” said Rachel. “Exactly the kind of slut that Stephen used to hang all over.”

  “Stop it,” said Alma, chastising Rachel for continuing to focus her issues with Stephen’s past on Aubrey. “Besides, you’ve got him all locked up now. That’s the whole point of a wedding ring.”

  Rachel laughed at Alma’s naiveté. “Sorry, honey. Hate to break it to you, but this,” she held up her left hand and used her thumb to wiggle her ring back and forth, “doesn’t do shit to stop them from fucking around on you.”

  “Oh,” said Alma. “Did Stephen cheat on you before?”

  “No, and yes. Kind of, but not really,” said Rachel. “I’m sure that makes a lot of sense. He never really cheated on me since we’ve been married, that I know of anyway. He just came close once, and it was with a girl that looked a lot like his new little princess up there. And then we get here and he just magically meets this girl at a bar that knows all about Widowsfield and is willing to take us there? Come on. I think he set this all up, and that she’s the girl he met out here last time he was here. He just doesn’t want to admit it to me, because he knows I’ll be pissed.”

  “Well, she’s not interested in your husband,” said Alma. “Believe it or not, she’s going after Jacker.”

  “Really?” asked Rachel.

  “I know, it’s weird. Not that I don’t think Jacker’s a good looking guy or anything, it’s just that he’s so big.”

  “And she’s so small,” said Rachel. “That would be an odd couple for the ages. God, I almost want to see them hook up just so I can laugh about it. Can you imagine the two of them in bed?”

  “Stop it,” said Alma as she laughed. “Don’t be mean. I admit, it’s hard to accept that meeting her at the bar is a coincidence, but I don’t think Aubrey’s trying to hook up with Stephen. From what I can tell, she’s a pretty nice girl.”

  “Oh, now I feel like a bitch,” said Rachel. “I didn’t talk to her the whole way here.”

  “That’s what I heard,” said Alma.

  “I saw you talking to her. Is she mad at me? Does she think I’m a huge bitch?”

  They got to the road and turned in the direction of the town. The others were ahead of them, on the side of the road.

  “Let’s see,” said Alma. “Hey Aubrey!” She yelled out to the girl.

  Stephen turned and angrily hushed Alma. Then Paul looked back and waved at them to hurry up across the street.

  “Oh shit,” said Rachel. “There must be someone out there.”

  Alma and Rachel ran across the street and down into the ditch on the other side. Rachel lost her balance and grabbed onto Alma’s wrist. They both fell and slid the last few feet to the bottom of the muddy decline.


  “That figures,” said Rachel, but Alma quickly hushed her.

  The others were hiding low as well and Alma heard the rumble of a vehicle’s tires on the road. The wind swished as a truck passed, headed north toward the farm.

  “Do you think they found the van?” asked Rachel.

  Alma hadn’t thought of the possibility of getting caught. She was so focused on going to the cabin to discover what her father had been trying to hide that she hadn’t considered the risk involved in getting there. If security found Jacker’s van, and called the police, then they could all be in serious trouble. It wouldn’t take long for the police to discover that Jacker was a wanted man.

  Widowsfield

  March 14th, 1996

  “She’s here,” said Jeremy Tapper.

  He stopped the two boys that were carrying the bowl of steaming water into the bathroom. They had oven mitts on, and had accidentally spilled some of the hot liquid in the hallway.

  “Who’s here?” asked Mark as he stood in the tub, his shirt off, waiting for the children to pour the searing liquid on him.

  “The Skeleton Man is going to leave us.” Jeremy’s hand faltered. He had the razor pressed to his neck, prepared to kill himself if his father didn’t do what The Skeleton Man asked, but now he felt alone again. The chattering teeth quieted and Jeremy felt lost without the noise.

  “What’s going on?” asked one of the younger boys holding the water. “Where did he go?”

  Jeremy set his hand on the sink to steady himself. “He needs two of them, but only one came back. She forgot, but he can make her remember.”

  “Jeremy,” said Mark. “Put the razor down. Okay?”

  Jeremy glanced at the other two boys, both of whom had started to cry. “We’re lost now.”