Duskwood: Into the Forest PT 13

Your hands tremble at your sides. You clench them into fists as you hurry through the crowd, your gaze scanning for the others. You skid to a stop near the sidelines of the car parade, panting. You press your fists into your sides, heaving, gasping for air. Jake’s hand finds your back, rubbing circles to calm your nerves. Your breathing slows and you straighten yourself, looking around frantically.

“Where are they!” You shout as loudly as your lungs will allow.

“We’re a bit early.” Jake tries to calm you, reaching for your hand.

Your palms are clammy, but you don’t care. You let him slip his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers. Warmth envelopes you, calming you almost completely. A small, nagging feeling pulls at you.

“Where do you think Richy is?” You whisper leaning to let Jake support you.

Your legs are weak, barely holding you upright. They strain under your weight, begging you to sit down, to collapse, but you can’t. This is it. This is your only chance to save your friends, to put an end to the nightmare.

“There you are!” Phil’s voice breaks through your thoughts as he arrives at your side.

Slowly, the others join you. You fill them in under your breath. Their faces range in emotion. First relief, as Richy is alive. Then sadness as they realize we might not be able to stop the man without a face, Michael Hanson, in time. You shudder to think but continue anyway.

“We need to find the Gremlin,” Jake says with a sense of finality.

They nod in agreement as a booming voice comes over the speakers. The car parade is about to begin. You spot the Gremlin at the very end of the line. What is he thinking? Where is Hannah? You peer through the glass and see that the man driving is alone. You listen closely.

“Jake, do you hear that?” You question under your breath as the car passes, a small thunk from within.

“Yes. She’s in the trunk.” He frowns, looking over his shoulder. “Where does the parade end?”

“Near the edge of town. There is a place where you can easily turn around.” Jessy’s voice is low and shaky.

“Wait, can you show me on this map?” Jake pulls a piece of paper out of his back pocket with shaking hands.

“The scene of the accident? Is it the same place?” Dan’s voice carries from below where he sits near the front in his chair.

“It is,” Jake says quietly.

“And it’s near the lake.” You shudder against the thought of Hannah, trapped in the trunk of the car.

“Shit,” Phil says under his breath. “We still have time, but not much time. We need to get over there, right away.”

You push your way through the crowd of onlookers and make your way back to The Aurora. Jake never lets your hand free of his own. He’s shaking beneath your touch. Is he worried for you, or is he worried for Hannah? As you race through the throng of people, your heart in your throat.

“We need to separate. I don’t think Richy is in that car. He needs medical attention right away. I want to send those of you that are capable to the church.” He quickly reaches into his bag and shuffles through it for his lock pick kit, “Everyone but us and Phil, head to the church. Phil, you still have that pistol?”

Phil nods.

“What pistol? Phil, please, don’t do anything stupid. You’re already on the police radar.” Jessy crosses her arms against her chest, glaring and out of breath.

“I’ll be careful,” Phil says with a slight smile.

“Please take photos of Richy and the surrounding areas for evidence. We’re going to need it.” Jakes’s voice dies off as he turns to face you, taking your free hand in his, “You need to take a video of everything that occurs the moment we reach the edge of town.” He smiles weakly, “Even if it means implicating me.”

You frown, biting your lip, “I’ll do my best not to get your frame.”

He shakes his head adamantly, “No, you need to get all of this on camera. We won’t be able to prove it if you don’t. I think I know what he’s planning, but I can’t be sure.”

You smile weakly at him as he plants a kiss on your forehead. You try to give him a bright smile, but you can’t. Your thoughts are selfish. You know that Hannah means a lot to him, but he means the world to you. How could you ever place the life of someone you don’t know above his? The only thing keeping you moving forward was his presence, and the fact that you know he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t save Hannah.

You sigh, “Let’s get this over with.”

The others race toward the church, Jessy clutching her phone in her hand, Thomas the lockpick kit. You send a silent wish to the sky, praying that they return unharmed. You turn your back on them for what may be the final time and hop into the rented truck, spray paint still stuck to its exterior.

“That asshole. I’m going to make him pay. I can’t imagine what this is going to cost me to fix.” Phil chuckles uncomfortably as he kicks at a tire.

“Your pistol, please take it out and be ready.” Jake nods towards the backpack you’d slid between your legs.

You head to the site of the accident in silence. No one dares speak or turn on the radio. This is it. The moment you’ve been waiting for. If it weren’t so serious, you’d make a joke about unmasking a killer, like on Scooby-Doo. Internally, that’s a funny thought, but you don’t dare break the silence with even a small bit of laughter. Jake’s hand is still in yours, almost unbearably warm against your clammy skin. You sink in the seat as you carefully make your way through the streets, towards the turnaround point, the point of no return.

You park off to the side of the road and slide out of the truck, gravel crunching beneath your shoes. Birds chirp happily under the brilliant rays of sunlight. The lake glimmers underneath the clear blue sky. If not for the fact you were facing a potential murderer, you’d find this a perfect spot to relax. You find irony in how oblivious the world can be.

You glance sideways at Jake as he lets your hand fall from his and readies his pistol.

“Get your camera ready.” He says quietly, “I need to set something up.” He turns to the bed of the truck and shuffles his backpack around, whipping out his computer.

His hands move quickly. You watch out of the corner of your eye as you ready your camera. As it clicks on, you notice that everything you are seeing on your screen is reflected on his. He’s recording in real-time, or is he transmitting this feed somewhere? He clicks his tongue in frustration.

“What is it?” You ask as you approach him.

“I wanted to send this feed straight to the big screens at the festival, but it seems someone has already infiltrated the network. Is that his plan?”

The screen reflects the dashboard of a vehicle in a flash. It swivels quickly, showing the face of a man in his late forties, early fifties.

“Michael.” Phil’s voice creeps up from behind. “Is he saying something?”

Jakes’s fingers glide over the keyboard, increasing the volume. A man’s voice reverberates through the speakers.

“As some of you may know, I am Michael Hanson, the previous owner of The Aurora. Ten years ago today, my daughter, Jennifer Hanson, was murdered.”

You gasp, clasping your hand over your mouth.

“I say some of you because most of you believe this incident to be an accident. You have local law enforcement and a few of my regular patrons at the bar to thank for that.”

He’s quiet for a moment as you hold your breath, the air around you thick with anticipation.

“My daughter and her boyfriend argued that evening. Ted was very intoxicated. He’d been in town to visit with his girlfriends. Yes, you heard me correctly, girlfriends, plural. When Jennifer found out that he was not faithful, she got out of the vehicle and started to walk. Ted enlisted the help of two youngsters. He was not fit to drive, you see.”

“Hannah and Amy,” Jake says through clenched teeth.

“One of those girls, Amy, was the other woman, and much too young to be dating Ted, or driving for that matter.” His voice starts to quake with emotion, “Feeling guilty, Amy asked for help from a friend, someone she knew from school, someone she’d seen driving before.”

“Hannah, please don’t hurt her!” Jakes’s voice shakes as he shouts at nothing.

“Wait, this is broadcasting to everyone in town?” Phil says as he watches the various classic cars stop and turn around just across from where we’re parked.

Jake nods focused on the screen before him.

“Maybe it was an accident, what those two innocent young girls did to my daughter. Maybe, just maybe, but covering it up wasn’t an accident, was it?” He clears his throat loudly, as the screen nears your location, “The parents of those children, they covered it up! My ex-wife and I, suffered, for 10 whole years, wondering what happened to our daughter. We spent days, weeks, looking for her, until we found her, buried outside of Duskwood. It was intentional, so why, why didn’t anyone speak up?”

“They were trying to protect their children,” I speak quietly, not sure I want to be overheard.

“I would have been willing to forgive them, you know? I’d have taken my lumps in life, and moved on, had I only had closure. Why couldn’t you just give me the closure I needed? Alan Bloomgate, I hope you’re present, you snake!” His voice hisses with anger through the speakers, “How can you call yourself a cop? How did you climb the ranks after that case? You told me that the killer was never found! That it looked like an accident! Maybe the killer wasn’t even from Duskwood. You accused ME! Her loving, doting father, of having something to do with it! ME!” His fury echoes through the speakers as he gets closer and closer still. “Mr. Rogers, is your wife doing, okay? Did she have a stroke because you told her the truth? Did you tell her how you took the Gremlin that struck my daughter’s prone body that night, repaired it, and sent the owner on his way?”

Your stomach churns as you wrap your hand around it. You want to throw up. He’s not just out to hurt Hannah. He’s trying to rip Duskwood apart, right down the middle.

“Mr. Donfort, does your wife know that you weren’t on a business trip some 25 or so years ago? Does she know that you were seeing another woman? Does she?! Tell me! How does it feel to have your family ripped apart?! Did you continue to see her after you found out that your daughter, Hannah, had been the one to run down mine?”

Uh-oh, that’s not good. Jake’s spent his entire life trying to hide that from them, trying to save his family from being torn apart. We knew that Michael meant to make a show out of this, but to destroy those families like that, to say things to hurt them, it was sickening. You reach for Jake’s hand, but he pulls away, back into himself. Shaking his head slightly, he readies his pistol.

“You know the funny thing is, Amy didn’t have to die. All she had to do, was tell me who was driving that night. She refused, and when she did, I tortured her. When that didn’t work, I hacked into her phone and found all the proof I needed. She’d been in contact with Hannah. She’d discussed everything, time and time again. Did she know that the man without a face wasn’t real? That I was using that to follow her and her friends around, to gather information?! Did she sleep well, all those nights I watched her bedroom from the forest? I hope she didn’t because I haven’t slept in ten whole years!” His voice trembles. Is he crying? “It’s a shame, isn’t it? Even the therapist in town helped cover this up, but he can be bought, you know. He’d known I was following her for so long, but every time Hannah brought it up, he denied her, making her feel like she was going mad. That was on my dime, this whole investigation was on my dime! Oh, and Chief Bloomgate, when did you stop watching after Hannah? When did you stop staking out her apartment to make sure she was safe? If you can figure that out, you can figure out when I went after her, started planning my revenge!”

“There’s not much point in recording this now, is there Jake?” You ask, your voice shaking as you watch the last of the cars pass.

“Do it.” He says quietly, waiting for you to point the camera at the passing vehicles.

“Phil, we need to stop that car before he gets near the lake. It’s going to be tough, but if we shoot the tires, we should be able to. We need to do it at the last second, so no one else gets hurt. Be wary of the trunk.” Jakes’s voice shakes with rage. He’s angry. Pissed even.

“This is it! I’m tired of living like this! I’m not myself, and I don’t think I ever will be again. The mechanic, he’s dead! I killed him just before taking Hannah and stuffing her in this hatchback with me. I’m nearing the lake now. Think you can stop me? Go ahead and try!”

Your head snaps up as you see the Gremlin around the corner and pick up speed. He’s moving too fast! You don’t know if you can keep the camera on his position. How are the guys going to get a good shot off?

The gremlin whips past you at a high rate of speed, sending dirt and gravel flying in your direction. Phil and Jake take cover behind the truck. You cower near the front end, trying to maintain the view of the vehicle as it whips towards the lake. Its back tires are in view. You suck in a breath and hold it, deep in your lungs, closing your eyes tight. Gravel sprays your clothing, bounces off your face, mud sticks to your hair. You refuse to budge, holding the camera as steady as possible. You feel a sharp pain near your brow. Something warm trickles down the side of your face. You ignore it, digging your nails into your palms to lessen the pain.

“NOW!” Jake shouts.

Several pops reverberate through the air followed by the shattering of glass and hissing of air. The tires have popped, sending the vehicle careening towards the lake, tipping to one side.

“It’s going to roll!” Phil screams as he advances on the vehicle.

Several loud pops send you running for cover. You hear Jake howl in pain before hitting his knees. He’s been shot! Your heart pounds in your ears as you leave your cover and race to his side. You bob and weave, making it impossible for Michael to get his sights on you. He jumps from the speeding vehicle as it closes in on the shore, his pistol raised, pointed directly at Jake. You just need to reach him!

“Duck!” Phil’s voice gives you only seconds to react. You hit the ground within reaching distance of Jake.

Another pop and you cover your face with your arms. Your phone hits the ground, now pointed directly at the sky. You no longer care about anything else; you just need to reach jake. You pull yourself up on your elbows and drag your body towards where he lay, wincing in pain as gravel and glass dig into your arms.

“It’s just a graze,” He assures you as he glances back, “Stay down!”

You hear one final gunshot, followed by a splash. Phil races past you, kicking the gun away from Michael’s body, prone on the ground. You release a breath, trapped in your chest. Ripping off your shirt, you crawl on top of Jake’s body.

“Where is it?!” You shake him by the shoulders.

He groans beneath your touch, letting his arm fall away from his body. Blood seeps from his forearm, pooling at his side. You wrap his upper arm as tightly as you can.

“Hannah. She’s still…”

“Stop talking. Phil’s already on it.”

You look up just in time to see Phil dive beneath the waves. You hold your breath and wait. One minute. Two minutes. He comes up for air, jingling the keys between his fingers. You watch in agony as he breaks through the surface and disappears once more. One minute. There are flashing lights coming from town. The police and fire department are on their way. Two minutes. Your shaking, holding jake in your arms. Three minutes. Will they be, okay?

Finally, you see Phil’s head break through the surface. He’s kicking frantically, struggling. You push off the ground, smiling at Jake.

“I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t die on me.” You wink and run towards the water, shaking out of your pants as you go.

You dive in headfirst, an expert swimmer, fighting the current artificially created by the vehicle being drug into the depths. You see her before you see Phil, head barely above water as Phil struggles to support her weight, exhausted from the journey.

You fling one of her arms around her shoulder. She’s unconscious, paralyzed.

“The drugs.” You mumble as you spit water away from your face. The waves lap at her, threatening to pull you under.

Phil sputters beneath the weight. You shift her weight to your side. You’ve got the energy to spare, might as well use it. Before long, you collapse under the brilliant red and blue lights symbolizing rescue. Rocks dig into your wounds as you shuffle and drag yourself away from the water’s edge.

“We did it.” Phil’s voice is raspy as he coughs up water lodged in his lungs. “Is she breathing?”

You roll yourself over and check for a pulse. It’s slow, but there. Her breath tickles your hair.

“You did it, Phil. You saved Hannah.” You smile at him as you drop onto your back.

“You’re hurt.” He sits up frantically, reaching over to brush his hair away from your face. Blood trickles from the wound, “Are you okay?”

You nod, “I’m much better than Jake.” You chuckle ironically. “Shit, the police.” You turn around and scan the area. “Wait, where is Jake?”

“What?” Phil stands frantically.

“He’s gone.” Your voice trembles as you sink back into the rocky bed.

“I’m going to kill him myself.” Phil reaches down to help you to your feet as paramedic races to your location.

You say nothing as you make your way to the truck. You let the paramedics glue the gash on your forehead shut but refuse to go to the hospital. You’re in pain, but it’s no longer physical. You’ve texted him several times, but he’s not responded. Did he leave you? Is he gone for good this time? He promised. He promised damn it!

“Hey.” A familiar voice.

“Richy!” you jump off the bed of the truck and race towards him. Tears trickle down your face. “You’re alive!”

The others follow close behind. You wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him close.

“We thought you were dead!” Phil pats him on the shoulder before draping his arm around him.

“I am alive, see?” He smirks as he does an elaborate spin. “Are you okay?” His gaze travels from Phil’s face to your own.

“I…” You try to speak but your heart clenches in your chest, “I think so.” You manage but you aren’t so sure. Are you going to be okay without Jake?

“Let’s get you some dry clothes. Did you bring anything?” Jessy loops her arm through yours.

“Yeah, it’s in the truck.” You nod in the direction of the cab.

Cleo and Lilly collect your things.

“I’ve got to get this truck back to the rental office. I can’t imagine what this is going to cost me.” He nods at the raven painted on the side before climbing inside.

“See you around.” You manage a lazy wave as he pulls away from the curb.

You pile into Cleo and Thomas’ vehicles and make your way back into Duskwood. Alan wants you down at the station for a statement tomorrow but seeing as most of what occurred was broadcast to the entire town, he doesn’t need you right away. Michael was injured, but not fatally. He’ll most likely do life in prison, but that doesn’t clean up the mess he’s made.

“Lilly…” You say in a small voice, “Is your family, are you okay?”

“That remains to be seen.” She says with a frown. “In any case, I’m just happy that Hannah and Richy are safe.”

“Yeah.” You mutter as you sink into the seat.

“Hey.” Jessy rubs your shoulders gently. “I’m sure he’ll contact you. Hannah’s going to recover quickly. He’s going to want to check on her if nothing else.”

“Yeah.” You smile weakly. “I’m glad Hannah’s going to be fine.”

You watch as the town comes into view. You make your way through the now empty streets as the sun begins to set. You’d started this journey just over two weeks ago. It’s now finally come to an end. What’s next? Will you find Jake and forge a path together? Will you stay in Duskwood and start a new life? You sigh as you think about the future, so foggy and unclear. At least this bit is over, and you have eight new friends to lean on.