Third Grave Dead Ahead
Page 81
“Oh, that’s right. I never understood why he kept shooting that building across the alley from us.”
“He was a bad shot,” I said, keeping an eye on the horizon for an oversized ball of fur. It would be just like me to be mauled to death by a bear.
“Good thing he couldn’t shoot. Then again, neither can you. Have you ever considered taking classes?”
“You know, I have,” I said, checking Cookie’s trunk. “I was thinking pottery or maybe basket weaving. Don’t tell me you don’t have a flashlight.”
“I don’t have a flashlight.”
“A first aid kit?”
“Nope. Just wait for me,” she said. “I’ll be there in no time, and Misery has everything. She’s like a sporting goods store.”
“I don’t want to lose Teresa. She can’t be far. I’ve never felt someone’s emotions over a long distance. Just call me when you get here.”
“Fine. If anyone attacks and tries to kill you, including the bear, ask them to wait for me.”
“You got it.” I closed the phone and the trunk and, well, I yelled. “Teresa!” I called out. Nothing. I walked back up the trail, stopping every so often to call out to her. Admittedly, I didn’t yell as loud as I probably could have. That bear thing freaked me out.
Wednesday was still staring at the side of the mountain, and that seemed to be as good a direction as any. Then I felt it again. A whisper of fear, feathering over me like a trickle of water.
“Teresa!” I screamed, this time with heart. And it hit me. Hard. A blast of fear and hope rolled into one.
I called Cookie again as I ran toward the sensation. “I think it’s her,” I said, breathless with excitement.
“Oh, my god, Charley, is she okay?”
“I have no idea. I haven’t found her yet, but I can feel someone. Call Uncle Bob and Agent Carson and get them out here ay-sap. You were right. The cabin is up that trail. I’m heading to a hilly area just east of it, look around there.”
“Okay, got it. I’ll summon the cavalry, you just find her.”
I closed the phone and called out Teresa’s name again. The blast of fear I felt was quickly evaporating, being replaced entirely by a surge of hope that felt like a cool wind rushing over my skin. Then I remembered I had exactly zero survival gear. Hopefully, I wouldn’t need any.
I ran past Wednesday, and asked, “You couldn’t have mentioned this?”
She didn’t respond, but I saw what she was looking at. A mine. An honest-to-goodness, boarded-up old mine. I had no idea there were any mines in this area. And, naturally, I didn’t have a freaking flashlight. My lack of forethought when I’d left the apartment that morning, knowing I was going to be combing a mountainside, astounded me.
Not wanting to waste any time, I texted Cookie the location of the mine’s entrance before winding my way toward it through the tree line. It was super dark inside, so I opened my phone. It shed just enough light to illuminate the uneven ground as I ducked inside, climbing through the partially boarded opening. For a mine, the opening was small. I thought they’d be bigger. Once inside, ancient support beams lined the walls and the skeletal remnants of a track led me deeper into the narrow tunnel. This was certainly a good place to dispose of a body. Is that what he’d done? Tried to kill her, then, believing she was dead, dumped her body here? Surely not. He was a doctor. He’d have known if she were dead.
I followed the railway tracks about five minutes before they stopped abruptly. The tunnel came to a dead end, a layer of rock and dirt blocking the way, and my heart sank. I turned in a circle, searching for another opening. Nothing. I was wrong. Teresa wasn’t in here. Then I realized the fall was fresh, the earth and rocks hadn’t settled as they would have over time.
“Teresa,” I said, and a layer of dirt fell from overhead. The place was about as stable as a circus performer on a high wire. But I felt her again, closer this time. I climbed up the incline, stumbling and scraping my hands and knees.
At the very top was the faintest opening. I tried to look in, to no avail.
“Teresa, I can feel you,” I said as loudly as I dared. “I’ll get help.”
Her fear resurfaced, and I realized she didn’t want me to leave her alone. “I won’t leave you, hon. Don’t worry.” I tried my phone, but we were too deep to get a signal. Looking back at the opening, I asked, “Where’s your brother, Luther, when we need him? He’s a big guy.”
I heard a weak, breathless chuckle. She was so freaking close, I could almost touch her. Right there. Right past the opening, as though she’d climbed up it as well and tried to dig her way out.
“Are you hurt?” I asked, but received only a moan in response. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”
Surely Cookie would bring the cavalry soon. I wanted to call her, have her get the flashlight out of Misery when she arrived, but I didn’t want to leave Teresa. Since I had nothing better to do, I decided to move some of the rocks and try to climb to her. With meticulous care, I started taking rocks off the top and chucking them softly to the side. I lost my footing more than once and slid down, scraping my palms and legs on the jagged rocks even through my jeans. And each time, I held my breath, hoping the whole thing wouldn’t come down on us.
After about fifteen minutes, I had cleared enough of an opening to reach my arm through. I felt around blindly and touched hair. Then a hand locked on to mine and I squeezed.
“He was a bad shot,” I said, keeping an eye on the horizon for an oversized ball of fur. It would be just like me to be mauled to death by a bear.
“Good thing he couldn’t shoot. Then again, neither can you. Have you ever considered taking classes?”
“You know, I have,” I said, checking Cookie’s trunk. “I was thinking pottery or maybe basket weaving. Don’t tell me you don’t have a flashlight.”
“I don’t have a flashlight.”
“A first aid kit?”
“Nope. Just wait for me,” she said. “I’ll be there in no time, and Misery has everything. She’s like a sporting goods store.”
“I don’t want to lose Teresa. She can’t be far. I’ve never felt someone’s emotions over a long distance. Just call me when you get here.”
“Fine. If anyone attacks and tries to kill you, including the bear, ask them to wait for me.”
“You got it.” I closed the phone and the trunk and, well, I yelled. “Teresa!” I called out. Nothing. I walked back up the trail, stopping every so often to call out to her. Admittedly, I didn’t yell as loud as I probably could have. That bear thing freaked me out.
Wednesday was still staring at the side of the mountain, and that seemed to be as good a direction as any. Then I felt it again. A whisper of fear, feathering over me like a trickle of water.
“Teresa!” I screamed, this time with heart. And it hit me. Hard. A blast of fear and hope rolled into one.
I called Cookie again as I ran toward the sensation. “I think it’s her,” I said, breathless with excitement.
“Oh, my god, Charley, is she okay?”
“I have no idea. I haven’t found her yet, but I can feel someone. Call Uncle Bob and Agent Carson and get them out here ay-sap. You were right. The cabin is up that trail. I’m heading to a hilly area just east of it, look around there.”
“Okay, got it. I’ll summon the cavalry, you just find her.”
I closed the phone and called out Teresa’s name again. The blast of fear I felt was quickly evaporating, being replaced entirely by a surge of hope that felt like a cool wind rushing over my skin. Then I remembered I had exactly zero survival gear. Hopefully, I wouldn’t need any.
I ran past Wednesday, and asked, “You couldn’t have mentioned this?”
She didn’t respond, but I saw what she was looking at. A mine. An honest-to-goodness, boarded-up old mine. I had no idea there were any mines in this area. And, naturally, I didn’t have a freaking flashlight. My lack of forethought when I’d left the apartment that morning, knowing I was going to be combing a mountainside, astounded me.
Not wanting to waste any time, I texted Cookie the location of the mine’s entrance before winding my way toward it through the tree line. It was super dark inside, so I opened my phone. It shed just enough light to illuminate the uneven ground as I ducked inside, climbing through the partially boarded opening. For a mine, the opening was small. I thought they’d be bigger. Once inside, ancient support beams lined the walls and the skeletal remnants of a track led me deeper into the narrow tunnel. This was certainly a good place to dispose of a body. Is that what he’d done? Tried to kill her, then, believing she was dead, dumped her body here? Surely not. He was a doctor. He’d have known if she were dead.
I followed the railway tracks about five minutes before they stopped abruptly. The tunnel came to a dead end, a layer of rock and dirt blocking the way, and my heart sank. I turned in a circle, searching for another opening. Nothing. I was wrong. Teresa wasn’t in here. Then I realized the fall was fresh, the earth and rocks hadn’t settled as they would have over time.
“Teresa,” I said, and a layer of dirt fell from overhead. The place was about as stable as a circus performer on a high wire. But I felt her again, closer this time. I climbed up the incline, stumbling and scraping my hands and knees.
At the very top was the faintest opening. I tried to look in, to no avail.
“Teresa, I can feel you,” I said as loudly as I dared. “I’ll get help.”
Her fear resurfaced, and I realized she didn’t want me to leave her alone. “I won’t leave you, hon. Don’t worry.” I tried my phone, but we were too deep to get a signal. Looking back at the opening, I asked, “Where’s your brother, Luther, when we need him? He’s a big guy.”
I heard a weak, breathless chuckle. She was so freaking close, I could almost touch her. Right there. Right past the opening, as though she’d climbed up it as well and tried to dig her way out.
“Are you hurt?” I asked, but received only a moan in response. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”
Surely Cookie would bring the cavalry soon. I wanted to call her, have her get the flashlight out of Misery when she arrived, but I didn’t want to leave Teresa. Since I had nothing better to do, I decided to move some of the rocks and try to climb to her. With meticulous care, I started taking rocks off the top and chucking them softly to the side. I lost my footing more than once and slid down, scraping my palms and legs on the jagged rocks even through my jeans. And each time, I held my breath, hoping the whole thing wouldn’t come down on us.
After about fifteen minutes, I had cleared enough of an opening to reach my arm through. I felt around blindly and touched hair. Then a hand locked on to mine and I squeezed.
