I stepped over a decaying log, and lost my footing as the moss-covered soil slid. I staggered and caught myself on a tree. A glance to either side told me that neither of the girls had seen it. Then again, there was little worry about them seeing anything in the fog. We were following the standard string-line search pattern, walking parallel, with about ten meters between each of us. The thinning fog left a gray tinge to everything, and the chance of rain today meant this was an even worse idea.
“You know,” Alison started at a slightly louder volume. “I’m really getting sick and tired of people blackmailing us.” She hopped over something and drifted closer on my left. “You’d think that people would ask for our help, but nope. They automatically assume that they need to force us to do what they want.”
“Most people have trust issues,” I countered, while pushing through some underbrush. “It happens.”
“Uh, sure but how? I mean, does everyone in the universe have something on us or is it just everyone in blasted state?”
“When you take an active role in most events, it kind of happens.” I scowled to myself at the thought. “It doesn’t make it any better, though.” I looked at her moving through the fog and let out a sigh. She certainly wasn’t wrong.
“Uh-huh. Well, at least it’s a good day to go for a walk,” Alison added, sarcastically.
“The mill may have gotten us into this, but it is really similar.”
“If you leave out the stalker, the Bigfoot-thing, the creepy old man, and all of the blackmail, then yes. It’s downright identical.” She snapped several branches in her path.
“Exactly.” I smiled in her direction.
“Well, if that’s how it’s going to be, then it’s a good thing I left my rover back with the Sheriff.”
“Also we’re better prepared than we were with that case.” I adjusted the shoulder holster under my coat. The revolver didn’t weigh much, but after an hour of hiking through untouched wilderness it was beginning to chafe.
“Ha!” Alison scoffed. “I think we said the same thing then too.” She hopped over something in the mist. “Still, that night wasn’t entirely bad.”
“Aside from being trapped in the grinding room with a sprained ankle.” I shook my head. The things we ended up doing sometimes, no one could predict. I paused examining mist ahead.
“Could be worse,” Veronica called over to me. “We could be following one of Matt’s trails out here.”
“What?” I looked in her direction, and managed to trip over a fallen branch. I sputtered a few curses, and freed myself from the limb.
“You’re telling me you don’t remember Matt’s hiking trails?” Her question left memories and thoughts muddled. I remembered the name, and a hike that grated on the nerves. Sand, water, a campfire and laughter. I knew Veronica was trying to derail the conversation with Alison, and she had succeeded.
“The Plum Island trips?” I gave a snort. “I remember it always took us twice as long to get anywhere when we took his shortcuts.” I stepped over a rock and carefully slid down the embankment behind it.
“So that’s where you got your sense of direction,” Alison quipped at me.
“We didn’t care.” Veronica stepped up on a rock.
“You did.” I stepped through a colony of ferns. “The first time we went out there with everyone, you were so scared to lie to your dad that you almost didn’t come.”
“I was just worried something was going to go wrong and we would get caught.” Veronica was drifting closer. “Fortunately, nothing did.”
“Oh, yes it did.”
“What?”
“Uh, you burned down my tent! With a marshmallow!” I raised my voice.
“Seriously?” Veronica stopped to face me. “You’re still complaining about spending the weekend in our tent?” I heard Alison gasp.
“You slept with both of them?” she interjected from my left.
“We had slumber parties.” Veronica giggled.
“Until we were eight.” I raised my voice at her.
“You had slumber parties?” Alison snickered.
“Jess had slumber parties.” I addressed Alison but Veronica was still giggling. When your best friend is a girl, you make a lot of concessions growing up. I took the GPS tracker out of my jacket to look at the time. We needed to check-in with the Sheriff.
“Check in time?” Alison asked, walking over.
“Yeah.” I tried to pull up the overall map on the GPS while the girls drifted over to my position. The unit refused to back out to give me our position in regards to surrounding landmarks. I tried navigating the menus, but the device took me back to the same screen. I tried again and received the same result. When I lifted my eyes from the screen, I wasn’t sure if Veronica was still laughing at our conversation, or at me and the ‘user friendly’ device. “Take this thing before I break it.” I tossed the GPS to Alison and searched my pockets to pull out the regional map.
“Having issues, are we?” Alison examined the tracker while I unfolded the map. Orienteering is one of the most fundamental skills taught by virtually every armed-service branch in world, even kids in the scouts learn the importance of properly reading a map. I retrieved the radio from my hip and adjusted the volume. As soon as I found where we were on the map I could give our status. I folded the map again reducing it to a manageable size so I could hold it with one hand.
“S-R-T One to base.” I adjusted the radio again focusing on the stream marked on the map. “This is S-R-T One.” I tried again and saw Veronica lean on a tree nearby while Alison impatiently paced around me.
“Base here. What is your status?” I heard the Sheriff’s gruff voice through the radio. I glanced up at Alison to meet her eyes.
“We’re about a quarter-mile north of Fish Creek. Still no contact with subject or any traces of passage through this area.” I let out a sigh. After more than two hours of hiking we had yet to find any trace of the missing people or whoever it was that had attacked us.
“What is the position of your last line?” The radio asked.
“Alison?” I looked up at her, and she stopped. She took the map and unfolded it a couple of times to better see the stream.
“About here.” She tapped her finger on the map and handed it back to me.
“Last string line traversed Fish Creek, south west to north east for…” I looked at Alison again and she flashed her open palm five times. “…for twenty-five yards.”
“Confirmed.” The Sheriff stated.
“This is S-R-T two, we’re approximately two kilometers west of Fish Creek. Last line traversing Fish Creek south east to north west.” Jason stated over the radio.
“This is unit three.” Another voice came over the radio. “Completed patrol of E-line road. No signs of subject.”
“Unit four. Completed patrol of Cobb road, no signs of subject.” The second patrol car reported.
“Gate units?” the Sheriff asked. I rolled my eyes at the request. The Sheriff was relying on procedure and something told me that no matter what search pattern we ran today, we were not going to find the missing people through traditional methods.
“No signs of subject at check point one. Only residents.” The first unit reported in, followed quickly by identical reports from the other four deputies. Alison crossed her arms, and settled a glare on Veronica. The Sheriff announced the next check-in time for noon and the radio fell silent again.
I clipped the radio back on my waist, and adjusted the shoulder holster again. The only positive note was that the search would be called to a close at sunset. Alison drifted closer as I stood up and shook my head. When I turned to face her, she grabbed the map from my hands and took a couple steps away. She was staring at the map with an intensity that made me follow her.
“What is it?”
Alison didn’t even take her eyes off the map as she searched her pockets and pulled out a folded piece of paper. I watched her unfold the page to a series of random shapes around a squiggle. She spared me a glance.
“What’s that?” Veronica asked.
“It’s a page we found at Boggs’ last night,” I offered, as Alison scrutinized the page and the map. She flashed me a smile when it came together.
“I knew it had something to do with the map.” She held it out so that I could see as she aligned the notes with the map. The squiggle lined up with a small section of the creek a couple miles to the east of our position. Just above the creek was a circle and what looked to be a phone number. Several miles to the northeast a crude rectangle was drawn with a five digit number. The last note was a scribble in the swamp that looked like another crude shape. “I think this was that evidence we were speculating about.”
“So, what are the numbers?” Veronica squinted at the page. “Is that a phone number?”
“No.” Alison interrupted. “We tried that.”
“Hold on.” I pulled out the radio and switched to a private channel. “Jason?” I waited for a response. I had a suspicion of what the numbers were but I needed someone to confirm it.
“Coordinates?” Alison tried.
“Connor?” Jason’s voice came from the radio.
“Can you tell me if there were any missing persons reported for April or June?” I lowered the radio. I could’ve just checked with the Sheriff but I didn’t want to deal with the man any more than I had to today. I fixated on the series of numbers next to the circles.
“I’ll check with Brooks,” Jason answered and I switched the radio back to the main channel. “S-R-T two for Brooks.”
“What is it, Rogers?” the Sheriff asked with a condescending tone.
“Were there any cases reported in April and June?” Jason asked.
“April fourteenth, a hunter was reported missing. June sixth another hunter and on the twentieth three campers were reported.” The Sheriff was silent for a moment. “What did you find, Rogers?”
“Nothing yet, sir,” Jason responded. I lowered the radio and focused on the numbers. The numbers for the circle matched if they were only month and day for the date.
“Do you see it?” Alison asked.
“Month, day and people.” Veronica interrupted. “But what is the circle?” I changed the radio back to the private channel and clicked it open.
“Jason?”
“Did that help?”
“Yes, actually.” I looked at the girls. Somehow, when I wasn’t looking, Veronica ended up with the notes while Alison had the map. “We’re deviating from our current path. There’s something we need to check on.”
“Alright.” I could hear the question in his voice.
“What are you doing, Connor?” Sarah’s voice came through.
“I’ll radio when I have something.” I turned down the radio and tucked it away. “Alison?” She already had the GPS tracker out and aligned with the map.
“The site looks to be four, maybe four-and-a half miles that way.” Alison nodded at the fog between a pair of large oaks.
“Let’s go for a walk.”