Zach stood on the front porch of the cabin, gripping the handle of the front door. He turned the handle and pushed his way into what looked to be the living room. He had seen the room briefly as he walked along the side of the house, but things had changed. This was not the empty, barren room he had seen earlier. It was furnished completely. A rust colored sofa and loveseat squared the center of the room. A rectangular coffee table sat in front of the sofa. Family photographs and paintings draped the four walls. This was a functional, living home. Victor had rolled out the red carpet for Zach.
He paced in and out of the furniture, searching for any clue that might help him understand what Victor was after.
A painting of a man and, presumably, his two sons hung on one of the walls. “Victor, Kristian and Mikko,” said Zach. Underneath the picture was a small wooden table, which held a lamp and a bowl of rocks. Zach laid his hand on top of the stones, feeling the smooth and jagged edges of the various nuggets. “Chris,” he whispered. “Are you here?” He spoke quietly to himself.
Light penetrated the cracks of a swinging door. An entrance to the next room. Chris has to be here somewhere, Zach thought. He moved swiftly to the door, but just as he had reached his hand out to push it open, a roar came from outside the cabin. The revving of an engine. Zach moved away from the door and to the window on the far side of the living room. The chugging sound of the engine was louder now, but there was no car.
Zach’s palms were clammy, while his heart beat steadily faster. His dad had told him to run if he was in trouble. He wanted to run as fast as he could out of the house, back to the safety of his dad. But he didn’t. He stood in front of the window and waited, listening to the roar of the engine, wondering what Victor had in mind for him.
It appeared out of nowhere, like an airplane emerging from a cloud. The truck Zach had seen in the woods two days ago was now in front of Victor’s home. But this wasn’t the same beat-up, rusty, dead truck that lay in the forest that day. This truck looked brand new.
Zach squinted his eyes, bent down, and moved his head closer to the windowpane, trying to see inside the truck. Who was in the driver’s seat?
The engine stopped. The silence was eternal. Zach looked at the front door. He could run out right now and forget all of this.
The driver’s side door opened and from the truck emerged a man. He stood tall and had short, blond hair. His eyes were close together, making his rounded nose the focal point of his face. His mouth was wide, his lips full. He wore a flannel shirt, jeans, and heavy boots.
The man stood next to the door of the truck. He stared directly at Zach through the window. Zach stood tall and ducked out of the way of the window. Plastered against the wall, the painting of the man with his sons came into focus. Zach raised his eyebrows and tiptoed closer to the picture. One of the younger men sat on a chair below his father. He had short, blond hair.
Zach went back to the window. The man stood still with a stoic, somber look. “Kristian Leppla,” Zach said. “Victor’s dead son.”
At any moment Kristian would be here, seeking his revenge much like his father had. Zach knew the house had a large addition on the back. He could sneak through the kitchen and find his way through the home. Maybe he could find a hiding place. Maybe Logan and the others had finished the hole and they could all escape together.
As Zach was about to dash through the swinging door, he stopped. This encounter with the Lepplas was inevitable. There was no point in postponing it.
Footsteps crept to the front door, the old, wooden porch creaking with every step. Zach turned to face the doorway, awaiting his inescapable fate.
The door opened. A man eased into the living room. His hair was sandy blond and he had large dimples on each cheek. His face was ghostly pale and wrinkled. He wore a thick denim, button down shirt and sturdy corduroy pants.
“Zach Sutton,” he said.
Zach looked closely into the eyes of the man. This was not the same man he saw through the window. This was not Kristian Leppla. He glanced once again at the portrait on the wall. The dark eyes. The unmistakable dimples. Zach’s stomach clenched.
Zach nodded. He did not make eye contact again with the man. Instead, he looked out the far window, grasping the stone in his pocket. His left hand fidgeted, wiping his brow, then dropped to his side. He closed his eyes briefly, gathering strength. He could feel the penetrating stare of the man standing in the doorway. Finally, Zach spoke. “Victor.”
Victor moved slowly into the middle of the room. “You were expecting Kristian. Am I right?”
Zach backed away as Victor advanced.
“You haven’t seen the last of Kristian, I promise.”
Zach pressed against the wall nearest the creek. He could not back away any farther. “Why me?” he asked. “What do you want with me?”
“What do I want with you?” Victor chuckled. “What do I want with you? My son perished in flames and you dare to ask me what I want with you?”
“I had nothing to do with your son’s death. I wasn’t even alive!”
Victor sat down on the edge of the loveseat. “You’re right, Zach. A lot of Sutinens … excuse me, Suttons … have paid for your great-great grandfather’s evil. But, I lost my son and I promised Fredrik that every generation of his family would pay for his sins. I always keep my promises.
“Just picture it, Zach. My boy, only twenty-three years old, is driving to the logging plant to get a head start on his work for the day. A hard-working, motivated young man. There he is, sitting in the office doing some paperwork when all of a sudden, fire surrounds the building. Piles of logs rise up in flames. There was nowhere for him to go. He had no chance. It had to have been started by someone. Burnt gas cans were left in the yard. Even the old truck was torched.”
Zach listened to Victor’s story. Gasoline. Flaming truck. Gasoline and burnt rubber. That odor had harassed Zach throughout the trip to Pine Ridge.
“Fredrik denied everything,” Victor continued. He claimed he had nothing to do with it. He claimed it was an accident. But it was no accident that I had to bury my son. Fredrik didn’t understand who he was dealing with. Unfortunately, you and your whole family have to pay for that.”
“But I don’t understand. The trend has always been that the youngest Sutton kids in a generation are cursed. My brother, Chris, is missing. I know you had something to do with that. So, what do you want with me?”
Victor got up easily from the sofa. He glided over to the small table. His shoes made no noise as they slid along the floor, like a snake.
Turning his back to Zach, he playfully fingered the bowl of rocks. “Your brother is just fine. I promise you that.”
Zach’s eyebrows rose to his hairline and his eyes widened. “Chris is alive? Where is he? Is he in this house?” Zach ran to the kitchen door.
“Yes, he is alive. But no, he is not in this house.” Victor faced Zach now.
“So, where is he?”
Victor took one step closer to Zach. “I’d rather not talk about that right now. You asked me a question a minute ago. ‘What did I want with you?’”
Zach took a step back. “Yeah. You have Chris. You’re breaking the rules by coming after me too.”
Victor chuckled. “Breaking the rules?” he said with a smile. “I created the rules. I can change them whenever I want.” Victor walked around the sofa and stood a few paces in front of Zach. “But if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t change the rules arbitrarily.”
“Okay, so why did you change them?” Zach turned his head to see that there were only a few feet between him and the wall.
“I changed them because you have something I need.”
“What could I possibly have that you need?”
“Zach, you’re a smart kid. Think about it.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Zach.
Victor raised his eyebrows and smirked. His dimples accentuated the lines on his face. He waited silently for Zach to understand.
Zach leaned against the wall next to the window. He put his left hand in his pocket and pulled out Chris’s stone. It was the only meaningful thing he possessed. The only thing Victor could possibly want. “Do you mean this?” he asked, lifting the rock in his palm.
“Now you’re starting to use that head of yours,” Victor said.
“But what does this have to do with—” Zach stopped in midsentence. He looked at the rock in his hand. “How did you know about this?”
“None of that matters, Zach. The important thing is that you give it to me now.” Victor held out his hand.
Zach opened his palm and held the rock out in front of him. But as Victor reached for it, he snatched his hand back and fisted the stone.
Victor cocked his head to the right, his face emotionless. “Give me the rock, Zach.”
“I want to know where Chris is,” Zach said, holding the rock behind his back.
Victor stepped away and turned his back to Zach once again. He paced toward the other side of the room.
The window was directly to Zach’s left. It was closed, but it was unlocked and it had no screen or storm window on the outside.
Victor turned to face Zach. “You want to know where Chris is?”
Zach’s hand was on the windowpane. “Yeah. He’s my brother and you took him. What did you do with him? If you really want this rock, you’ll tell me.”
“Do you really believe that you can call the shots, Zach?” Victor had moved closer to Zach now. He spoke just inches from his face, but with no breath, no element of life. “I control you. Those friends of yours imprisoned out back? I have no use for them. But I took them so I could reel you in, Zach. I knew you wouldn’t hesitate to try to save them. You see, I don’t think you understand the extent of my power. And as far as your brother is concerned, I’ll tell you this much. If you don’t hand over the stone, you will never find Chris.”
Zach thought about the power of the rock. How it had warmed him when he needed it most. What could Victor do with this if he had it? Would he ever tell me where Chris was anyway? He doubted it.
“I have other ways of getting the rock from you if you don’t hand it to me. Trust me,” Victor said.
Zach still held the rock behind his back. Over Victor’s left shoulder, through the far window, Zach saw a face. Logan. Jenny, Michael, and Tristan fell in behind him. All four of them peered through the window. Zach leaned to his left so Victor didn’t block their view of him.
Victor turned quickly, wondering what Zach was looking at. As he saw Zach’s friends, he rushed to the other side of the living room. But when he reached the window, they were gone.
Zach saw an opportunity. He shoved the rock back into his pocket. Then he grabbed the bottom of the window, threw it upward, pushed himself out with his forearms, and tumbled to the cold, snowy ground.
Zach jumped to his feet and sprinted around to the front of the house. Logan, Jenny, Michael, and Tristan waited for him in the front yard. Their clothes were covered in dirt. “You made it!” Jenny said.
“Who was that guy inside the house?” Tristan asked.
“Was it Victor?” Logan asked.
“Who’s Victor?” said Tristan.
Zach caught his breath. “I don’t have time to explain right now. We gotta go! Come on.” He ran again, leading the other four toward the forest.
“Zach!” The deep, bellowing voice was unmistakable. “Where are you going, Zach?”
Zach stopped running. The others followed suit. Behind them, on the cabin’s porch, Victor stood. His hands were on his hips.
“We aren’t finished with our conversation yet,” Victor said. He walked down the steps into the clearing. The home behind him became transparent. It gradually dissolved into the brisk air, leaving nothing but an empty lot. But Victor stayed. He walked toward Zach and his friends, the speed of his gait steadily increasing with every step.
“We gotta split up,” Zach said. “He wants me, not you. You guys go that way, through the woods. It will lead you straight to Pine Ridge. I’ll lead him this way.” Zach pointed to opposite ends of the forest.
“We aren’t gonna leave you alone,” Logan said.
The others nodded in agreement.
“Don’t worry about it. Trust me, I’ll be fine,” Zach said. “I’ll meet you back at the camp.”
Victor was getting closer. Suddenly, his arms transformed. They grew into long, dark tentacles, stretching outward like a pair of wings. Victor’s face changed too. His pale features turned ghostly. His eyes became thin and bright, while his nose, mouth and dimples became dark, like the night sky. Victor’s legs disappeared into his body, leaving only a black, floating spirit.
“Oh, God. That’s the thing that captured me and Logan,” said Jenny, panicking.
Victor’s arms stretched out to Zach. “Run!” he yelled.
Logan, Jenny, Michael, and Tristan took off toward the woods.
Zach ran in the opposite direction, Victor’s ghastly spirit flying close behind him.
“Come on, Zach. Run!” His dad’s voice. He had emerged from the woods and he was beckoning him into the forest. When Zach hit the tree line, his dad grabbed him. “Hold on, Zach. That thing is gone.”
Zach turned around. Victor’s ghost had disappeared. “He’s not gone,” said Zach. “He’s here somewhere. Dad, you shouldn’t stay with me. Victor wants this rock I have.” Zach showed his dad the stone. “I don’t know why, but he’s pretty serious about it.”
“So, just give him the rock, son.”
Zach shook his head. “I can’t explain it, Dad, but I think if I give him this stone, it won’t end there. It’ll just get worse.”
A dark shadow passed overhead. Zach and his father nervously scanned the forest. Through the trees, two bright, thin eyes stared at them.
“Dad, go that way.” He pointed through the trees. “I can run faster on my own. I’ll be fine. I’ll figure something out.”
Zach was gone before his dad could protest.
He weaved in and out of the tree branches, hurdling ditches and fallen trunks. He sensed the shadowy ghost of Victor following him.
Zach didn’t stop. Not even when he reached the trail. His sprint quickened when he took a sharp left on to the cleared path.
Zach glanced over his shoulder. No Victor. But still, he didn’t slow down.
The hill was straight ahead. The hill he had been climbing when his father found him. The camp wasn’t far.
His breathing was heavy. His legs ached, climbing the steep incline. As the terrain flattened, the pain in Zach’s thighs eased. He quickened his pace again. The trail curved sharply in and out of the forest.
The end of the trail. It was a few yards ahead of Zach. The roofs of buildings were partly shaded by tree branches. He had made it. Pine Ridge.
Zach looked over his shoulder again. No Victor. He looked to his left and to his right. Nothing but trees. He started forward again toward the camp, but just before he reached the fire pit he stopped. A dark shadow floated a few paces in front of him. Victor, with his bright, yellow eyes. His ghastly arms reached out for Zach. Before he could be swallowed by the specter, Zach turned to his right and sprinted back into the woods.
He curled through the trees, trying to find an entrance to Pine Ridge. Zach emerged from the trees in front of a giant structure. It towered above him like a skyscraper.
Victor was nowhere to be found.
He recognized where he was. He had been here just yesterday.
The ropes course.
Zach had hoped to find his classmates or teachers when he returned. He hoped Victor would stay away if there were others around. But there was no one in sight. No teachers. No friends.
He stood at the rear of the course. The entrance to the first obstacle was fifty yards in front of him. Maybe I can make it out of here and back to the dorms before Victor finds me, he thought.
He sprinted toward the entrance of the ropes course, but before he got there, he slowed to a walk. Then he stopped. If I escape now, then what? Victor would track me down. This would never end.
Zach felt the stone in his pocket. He remembered Perseus. The hero’s journey. Killing Medusa. Defeating the Kraken.
He had to face Victor now.
Instead of exiting the ropes course, he climbed to the first obstacle. He had no harness. No protection if he should lose his balance. He steadied his way across the single cord, holding on to the two rope railings. He worked slowly and carefully.
When he reached the platform, he pulled himself up, relieved to feel the solid floor below him. He breathed in. Then out. He scanned the area, looking for Victor.
Quiet. Only the sound of a few chirping birds who had returned from their winter sojourn. Victor was nowhere to be found.
The next obstacle. A wooden bridge, which led to the highest platform on the ropes course. Zach ran up the bridge, feeling the vibration of the shaking wood below him.
He reached the summit of the ropes course. A bead of sweat dripped from his forehead. Zach stood tall, eye level with the top of the forest. The cafeteria and dorms loomed in the distance. He wouldn’t miss anything from up here. He would see Victor coming from a mile away.
He stood on the platform, waiting. He held the railing with his left hand, while gripping the pocketed stone with his right. Zach’s head was on a swivel, turning from left to right, anticipating Victor’s arrival.
A half hour had passed. Zach’s ankles and thighs began to ache. Needing to rest, he sat on the platform, his legs dangling over the edge. Why is he not coming? What’s Victor waiting for?
In the distance, kids’ voices echoed through the woods. Zach pulled himself to his feet. Through the trees a pack of students made their way toward the ropes course. They would be here soon. Victor would never show his face then.
Zach scanned the forest one last time, looking for the ghost. Finding nothing, he took his hand from his pocket and stepped on to the bridge, anxious to return to camp.
“Hello, Zach.” A familiar voice.
Zach stopped, one foot on the platform and one foot on the bridge. He pulled his foot from the wooden crossing, planted both feet on the platform, and turned toward the voice.
Victor stood on the third obstacle’s landing. He was no longer the dark, shadowed figure. This was Victor as Zach had seen him in the cabin. Blond hair. Pale. Dimples. Weathered face.
“You shouldn’t have run, Zach. You’re just making it harder on yourself.”
“I’m not running anymore,” Zach said.
“That’s true. I’m glad you’ve come to your senses. Why don’t you just give me what I want and we can end this now.”
In the distance, the students’ voices were becoming louder.
Zach pulled the stone from his pocket. “If I give you this now, nothing will end. This curse you’ve put on my family won’t stop and it will probably only get worse. You can’t fool me. This rock is powerful. I know that now.” Zach looked down at the stone in his palm. “It may even help me find Chris,” he whispered to himself. He looked back at Victor. “If you want this, you’re gonna have to take it from me.”
Zach clenched the muscles in his arms and legs, bracing for whatever Victor had in store for him.
Victor nodded, a half smile on his face. “I see,” he said.
Zach could sense the evil in Victor’s eyes.
Victor stretched his arms out at his sides, darkness taking over, morphing his limbs into shadows. His ghostly arms stretched out above the ropes course obstacles, searching for Zach.
Zach trembled at the sight of Victor’s human face and body combined with the arms of a dark spirit.
His muscles stiff, Zach clasped the stone tightly in his hand. Victor’s arms moved slowly toward him. He turned toward the bridge and looked down over the side of the platform, searching for a quick escape. He couldn’t jump from here and with no harness he would have to travel back through the course slowly. Victor would surely capture him and the rock.
Zach was trapped. There was nowhere to go.
Victor’s arms were closer now, the dark fingers reaching for him.
There was only one option. Zach released the tension in his body, stood tall, and cupped the stone in both of his hands.
He brought the rock to his forehead and closed his eyes. Breathe in. Breathe out. Slowly. Calmly.
Even with eyes closed, he could sense Victor’s arms almost upon him.
Zach opened his eyes, the ghostly hands a few feet in front of his face.
He was on a pitcher’s mound now, staring down Victor like an opposing batter. This was Zach’s turf. His element.
The windup.
With all his strength, all his courage, Zach hurled Chris’s stone at Victor just as the ghost’s arms tapped his cheeks.
The rock tore through the air like a meteor. When it reached Victor, it penetrated the middle of his chest, where his heart would have been. The black arms catapulted backward, separating from Victor’s body. They dissipated into the pure air of the forest.
Victor stood, squinting his eyes at Zach. There was no defeat in him.
A bright light appeared where the rock had pierced his chest, blinding Zach momentarily. Then the ghost’s figure shattered into millions of fragments, like stars dissolving into the atmosphere.
Chris’s stone dropped from the ghost’s body and fell to the ground.
Zach stared into the once evil space. Victor was gone.