“Since when does a person charge toward a gunshot?” Alison turned the camcorder and its light on me. After half an hour of talking with the family, we had learned that our hoaxer had come around when dad was home and received a shotgun-welcome. Due to Alison’s temperamental ride, we were stuck following the trail on foot toward Boggs’ house.
“He’s a lunatic for one, but…”
“But there’s more going on,” Alison finished for me. Night in the backwoods left little in the way of details for our surroundings. Even the moon was concealed behind a thick vale of clouds, leaving a faded glow barely strong enough to distinguish the luminescent gray gravel from the forest. Various buzzes and clicks of nocturnal creatures filled the air, startled by our grinding footfalls. I clicked off my penlight leaving Alison’s camcorder light to illuminate our path.
“Yeah but what?” We crunched our way down the road in silence, until emerging into the lights of the house. We hopped across the drainage ditch and started up the driveway.
“I think there was an entire redneck book written about this place.” Alison smirked at me. The two lights on the front of the undersized house cast odd shadows across the labyrinth of debris and old car frames. It was an interesting challenge for all unexpected guests. We stopped at the base of the driveway by a decrepit old tree, and the sounds of night dwindled.
“I think there were two books,” I said as I stepped forward. Alison switched on her camera and followed me.
If you know you’re going to confront someone about criminal activities, it’s always good to document the interaction. We silently moved through the debris field, but we passed between the junk piles and scrap cars without incident.
I stopped at the rotten wood stairs partially hidden under moss. Alison stepped up behind me, casting my shadow on the porch. I hesitated climbing the stairs, noticing the unlit windows for the first time. Shining the light of the camcorder at the open porch revealed more clutter under a low roof. Uneasy, I climbed the steps with the hollow reassurance of damp wood. The last thing I wanted was a repeat of yesterday. Alison followed me but chose to explore the left side of the porch. Our footsteps were remarkably light moving about. I stepped up to the door and knocked on the frame, while she investigated the surrounding clutter.
“This place doesn’t feel right.” Alison attempted to look in a window with the camera before turning it back toward the yard.
“Yeah, then again, neither does this case.” I glanced around and rapped my knuckles again. “Boggs, you there?”
“Uh, what’s to stop him from shooting us?” She pointed the camera at me with a frown.
“Happy thoughts?” I knocked on the door directly, causing it to swing inward slightly. “Alison.” I nodded at the open doorway and pushed it open the rest of the way.
“Great.” Alison followed me into the unlit house. We knew the situation. This was a set up from every bad horror flick. Standing in the living room near a couch, she used the camera to light her surroundings. “Hey! Anyone here?” I clicked on my penlight, ignoring her call.
“I think he would have answered by now.” I checked on the adjoining room with a quick glance. The living room consisted of a couch and two chairs centered around an old television. Stacks of newspapers and magazines were bundled with bits of twine. A light fixture dangled from a low ceiling.
“Remind me again what we’re doing here.” Alison turned her camera on me again with more attitude. “Aside from B and E.”
“We are removing the potential for fraud in the Ferguson case, and re-enacting a scene from a teen horror movie.”
“Who gets to play the survivor?”
“Check that way.”
“Guess it’s me.” Alison disappeared through a doorway.
I cautiously entered the dark kitchen. The most likely result was that Boggs had terrified the family, gotten himself wounded, and was still making his way back through the woods. The penlight illuminated a wrap-around counter with pale green cabinets. Pots sat on the matching green stove with an antique dirty white refrigerator standing guard in the corner. Several cabinets hung open with their contents spilled onto the counter and floor. Making my way to the sink, I let out a startled curse when a loud snap erupted from the floor. The binding sensation clenched on my foot drew my attention down.
“Alison!” She appeared in the kitchen doorway. Holding the penlight in my teeth I put my foot up on the counter to pull off the rat-trap.
“So it works on all vermin.” Alison offered. “What’s up? Or are you getting soft?” She leaned against the sink beside me mildly entertained by my strange posture.
“Soft?” I pulled the trap off my foot and let it snap closed as I tossed it on the floor. “I’m not soft. I think you’ve been getting lazy.”
“Lazy?”
“Over there.” I pointed at the open back door and picked up the penlight. I led her over to the open doorway and knelt down, shining the light at the floor. “Check this out.” I touched a muddy print on the blue linoleum floor. There were a variety of tracks on the floor leading in and out. The most recent tracks had my attention. Several large footprints traipsed in and around the kitchen.
“Guess he forgot to clean them off.” She touched the track.
“Right.”
“Maybe or he left the door open and it came in to check things out.” She tipped her head to insinuate the thought. “Hm?” Alison stood brushing straight her vest.
“We followed suspicious tracks back to his house and now into his house. Is that really logical, Velma?” I stood up and spotted something shining in the beam of the penlight just outside. I followed my curiosity outside to the object.
“What did you find?” she called from the doorway.
“Something interesting.”
“Oh?”
I knelt down and retrieved the small shining object from among the grass and leaves. Looking it over, I held it out for Alison. It was a spent brass rifle casing. While I thought about the significance of the find, Alison pushed past me further into the woods. She brushed some leaves aside and picked up a lit flashlight that was fading in and out. “Do you think it’s a set up then?” She tossed the flashlight to me, causing it to blackout entirely.
“What? You mean like an attempt to get his name out there?” I unscrewed the end to rotate the batteries and tried it again with the same result. I smacked it on my hand a few times, with no luck and tossed it aside.
“Something.” She headed back toward me and stopped to look at her feet. Nudging something with the toe of her boot uncovered a rifle with its breech in the open position and a fresh cartridge sticking out.
“Looks like, doesn’t it?” I walked over to examine her find.
“Uh, Connor.” I followed her light and became equally distressed. A few yards away, deeper in the woods, her light focused on a single object we half-heartedly approached. A single mud-caked work boot was lying on its side. We examined the boot without moving it. The boot was virtually identical to what I remembered on Boggs. The laces left untied.
“It looks like what he was wearing.” I stepped on the edge to tip it upright. A dark liquid was smeared across the tongue. “Hm.”
“Not good.” Alison stood and backed away from the boot like it was the plague. “Starting to have doubts about your assumptions yet?” I backed away with her while I remained focused on the boot in the light. The scene reminded me of what I had asked Boggs, asking if he had ever shot at the demon. It was too close to what someone would expect. If it weren’t for the evidence we had for a hoax, anyone would assume the story monster had struck again.
“Yeah, let’s move.”
“I don’t care if this is fake, but it sure looks like some of the murder scenes we’ve come across in the past.” Alison followed me back through the house onto the front porch. “And this is really creepy.”
“Yeah, but it’s not exactly clear cut.”
“Then there’s this.” Alison pulled out a folded letter and shook it open. Reading it with my light only left me confused. It was a formal notification about an upcoming project from a company and an invitation to participate in the new project. I offered a grunt. “So what does that mean?”
“Construction work?” I offered.
“Construction? Really?” I gave a shrug. Alison folded up the letter with the several others and shoved them back in her jacket.
“Do you feel it?” I asked looking out into the darkness beyond the poorly lit scrap-yard. A sense of foreboding caused my heart to race. I could feel something out in the shadows watching us. She lowered her camera.
“Uh-huh.” She raised the camcorder again. “Want to see if we can track them down?” She carefully descended the rotten porch steps.
“They have the advantage right now.” I listened to my breathing over the crunching bits of glass underfoot as we wove our way back through the rough dirt driveway between the scrap cars.
“One question.” She pointed the camera in my face with a slight grunt of disapproval. “When have you ever known someone like him to be creative in any manner?” Alison spoke with a touch of anxiety.
“Never underestimate what people are capable of, you of all people should know that.” My condescending tone made her scowl. Setting foot on the gravel road again gave little comfort. I clicked off my tiny fading penlight leaving the camcorder to light our way. Alison continued surveying the woods while we started making our back. Nothing is more unsettling than knowing you’re in the open.
“So,” Alison cleared her throat to gain my attention. “Assuming what we found was real, what does it mean?” I listened to the gravel crunching underfoot pondering her question.
“You don’t mean the demon-thing?”
“Is that really an option?”
“No.”
“Then what do you think happened?”
“I think someone attacked him, dragged him off in the woods, and he’s probably dead.” I let out a sigh. This was yet another murder case we had managed to be pulled into in the span of two weeks.
“Why would someone assault him, or who?” Alison swept the light from one side of the road to the other. “If he’s just a crazy old coot, then why go to the trouble? Being a witness wouldn’t matter.”
“Maybe it’s less of witness and more being privy to something.”
“Like the stalker’s identity?”
“No, that’s too thin.” I dismissed the thought. If the old man had been murdered it would have to be over something important; something that wouldn’t need him to be a credible witness. “I did ask him if he had taken any pictures, or even shot at it before.”
“And if he happened to photograph the wrong subject or take a shot at the wrong thing…” She was nodding, following the train of thought.
“We’ve had clients killed over less.”
“But what if they’re still nearby?” Alison patted her jacket, searching for her something, encouraging me to check for my knife with a glance at the surrounding woods. Even if it wasn’t real, I didn’t like the idea of someone sneaking around with us unarmed. “That flashlight means it wasn’t too long ago.” Her judgment was correct, if it was staged, then the stalker was still in the area. If it wasn’t staged, then it was even worse.
“Give me a break,” I mocked with a glare at the woods. She staggered and turned too quickly. Alison yelped and fell onto her right side on the gravel, but she managed to keep the camcorder off the ground by letting the rocks grind into her arm and side in its place. “Oh.” I moved to help her. She sat upright, cursing.
“You bum, give me a hand.” Alison’s tone changed, brushing the rocks and dust off of her.
“You okay?” I took her free hand to help her to her feet.
“Ahem.” Searching my face, she refused to take a step back.
“Yes, yes. I owe you and I’ll buy dinner or breakfast. I’ve been a total idiot the past week.”
“You will, huh?” Alison looked smug. “You’re saying I’m right? Now I know we’re doomed.” Her expression changed, watching the trees.
“You’re right.” Taking the opening, I stepped around her.
“No.” She hissed, watching the woods.
“Really? That’s definitely a first.” I shrugged off her attitude.
“What?” Alison took a step away from me, moving closer to the drainage ditch and the woods on our left.
“Fine by me.”
“Huh?” She waved me off. “Never mind that. Where did the noises go?” Her question silenced me. Raising her camcorder, she took another step toward the tree line.
In the field, you learn to recognize signs of trouble. When all of the animals in forest suddenly fall silent, it is just such a sign. Standing in the middle of the gravel road, the only sounds that I could make out were the sounds of our own breathing and her grinding footsteps. Alison took another step forward, kicking some rocks loose and letting the light cut deeper through thick underbrush.
A loud branch snap sent Alison recoiling backward into me with an alarmed squeak. Something moved in the woods, hiding from the camcorder light. Alison’s instinct took over and she reached inside her jacket. She was getting set to fight, but her action made the camcorder light fade. Hearing several more loud snapping branches and shuffling underbrush, I placed my right arm in front of her in a protective gesture while I switched on the penlight.
“I don’t like this.” Alison kept the light pointed at the trees and sounds of movement.
“It’s probably just some animal.” I scooped up a handful of rocks and chucked them into the area with a loud shout. I repeated the procedure twice more without a noticeable impact. Alison pulled her empty hand out of her jacket. Several moments passed in silence before we heard a soft clacking. I took another step back when a rock landed at my feet.
“Just an animal?” Alison stayed close to me when her camera let out a digital beep announcing a dying battery. “Now, about that whole horror-movie thing…”
“Let’s get going.” I slowly started back down the road. Alison began to walk faster, visibly anxious. “Walk slow,” I hissed. Whether you’re dealing with a predator or a redneck stalking you through the woods, running only encourages chase. She gave a disgruntled grumble and flashed the light in the direction of the noises.
“This is a first.” Alison listened to me and tried to walk. “I want to run.”
“Can’t blame you.” I listened to our footsteps on the gravel road while the rustling and snapping paralleled us from the wilderness to our left. The movement through the woods kept us on edge. The thing could be a nocturnal animal attracted by the scent of blood from our wounds. However, the reaction when I threw the rocks pushed one possibility into the forefront of my mind. It was likely whomever had assaulted Boggs. The thought of being jumped sent a shiver down my spine. I pulled out my cellphone, checking for reception. Muttering a curse, I shoved it back in my pocket.
“No good.” I tried to force the intimidating thoughts from my mind. Seeing the expression on her face told me similar thoughts were running through hers.
“Okay, this is a just in case.” She pointed the camcorder light at the tree-line where the something was stalking us, before turning it to face herself. “Veronica, if we get dragged off tonight, I will haunt you if you don’t come after us.” She pointed the camcorder light back on the trees.
“Really?” Alison looked at me, and a loud snap erupted from the woods.
“Yeah.” She swept the light across the trees again, making the thing stop briefly.
“Do you have your knife?” I reached in my pocket, produced the stiletto knife and snapped it open. “I should have brought a sidearm.”
“Good idea.” Alison whipped out a combat knife and flicked it open. Having a means of defense did well to steady our nerves. Watching the road ahead in our fading lights, a strange object drew my attention causing me to jog ahead. Our stalker rushed through the underbrush snapping and cracking its way to keep parallel. Alison turned the light on the trees to halt the thing before turning back to me where I stooped down on the side of the road.
“You see this?” I picked up a large sandal from the gravel along the edge of the drainage ditch. It was a beveled five-toed wooden cutout. Our hoaxer.
“Knew those tracks were fake.” Alison squatted next to me to look at the large plywood sandal.
“See, this is why I hate dealing with these things.”
“Connor.” Alison pointed at the ditch near the tree line several strides ahead, where the corresponding cutout was standing up like a sign. I got up with her and rushed over to find the cutout was still strapped to a foot. “Oh, no.” Alison hopped down in the ditch to check on the face down figure clad in black clothing. Turning him over revealed numerous wounds on the man including a visibly broken arm and leg with streaks of dried blood. He looked like he had been hit by a car. “Boggs?”
“No.” I scrutinized the young face and short salt and pepper hair in a crew cut.
“He’s still alive.” Alison unfastened the strap of her camcorder and used it as a makeshift tourniquet above the protruding leg-bone. “We need to get help.”
“Who wants to stay here while the other runs for help?” I looked at the man’s position with regards to the road. “It looks like he may have been clipped by a car.”
“Makes me wish I had a two-way. I don’t want to be alone.” Alison looked around.
“Well, we definitely know it’s a hoax now.” I knelt on the edge of the ditch looking down on Alison.
“Uh, then who’s following us?” The camcorder light winked out and shuffling noises erupted from the woods approaching us. She jumped up out of the ditch away from the noises when the sounds rushed in close. Alison yelped, pointing the blade at the trees. The camera light glowed to life again, illuminating the man and the trees beyond. The noises stopped. “Uh, if he’s the stalker then what is that?” She pointed the knife blade out at the woods. When you’re facing a threat of unknown size, a standard tactic is to make yourself appear to be the larger threat. It works with animals, people and even military formations.
“Whoever is out there, we are armed and will not hesitate to defend ourselves from anyone who gets too close!” I shouted at the tree line. Confident that any person out there would know better than to test us, I edged toward the unconscious man in the ditch.
“We have a camera and have been recording everything, too!” Alison added. Despite the sensation of eyes on me, I checked on our hoaxer. A low grunt came from among the trees with such a presence to make the hairs on my neck stand on end. I recoiled. A slight chattering noise began echoing out from the darkness. We backed together when it was clear it came from two different directions.