Adermoor Cove: Donovan Road - 6. Chapter 6

Lane Hardy carefully brushed the dirt and cobwebs off Aunt Vanessa's old rocking chair and sat down with a steaming mug of hot cocoa in his hand. He looked at the slate grey sky, where storm clouds had gathered, and found himself thinking of those rainy days when he would sit with Charlie and drink hot cocoa.

What would he think if he saw me here? What would he think if he knew I own a lighthouse now, that I'm rich? Or at least I will be. With an aching pain, Lane missed Charlie, just like he used to those first days after he'd died, when the guilt and the fear and loneliness were so strong, so fresh he could barely live with it. These days he could go days with barely thinking about it, but then there were times like now when the emotion caught him unaware.

Lane sipped at his cocoa and tried to focus on the picture in front of his face. The steady pulse of the ocean helped him to direct his mind from the darkness of the past. Look at where I'm at now. I have resources at my disposal I didn't have before. I have a freakin lighthouse now. I can make up for what I've done. I've come a long way since the cabin in Michigan.

His thoughts were interrupted when he saw a police cruiser pulling up the driveway. His driveway. He rose to his feet, wondering what he'd done to warrant being arrested this time. The cruiser came to a stop. Sheriff Enzo and his son Carlos got out of the car. Lane, leaning against the porch railing, set his cocoa down. "Here to arrest me, Sheriff?" he asked in a pleasant voice. "I haven't killed anyone since I saw you yesterday. Yet."

"Ha ha ha," the sheriff said. "We're not here to arrest you. There's been another incident. It may or may not be related to what happened to your aunt."

"Oh." Lane hid his grimace by taking another swig of cocoa. He looked away.

"I'd rather discuss it inside."

"Afraid someone's going to overhear you, Sheriff? If you look around, you'll notice there's no one else around but us."

Beside his father, Carlos hid his chuckle by making it sound like a cough.

Sheriff Enzo, however, did not find Lane's antics so amusing. "I don't have time for your bullshit, Lane. One of my officers has been snatched right out of their home."

Lane, realizing the situation was grave, immediately became serious. He held the screen door open and led the two officers into the house. While they sat at the breakfast nook he went about making coffee. The night before, after Carlos had dropped him off, he'd made a point of familiarizing himself with the kitchen; after that he'd wandered the lighthouse, exploring all the rooms except for the beacon room. After what had happened with his aunt he couldn't bring himself to go in there.

Once the coffee had been brewed and served to the sheriff and the deputy, Lane leaned on the counter, arms crossed. "So, what happened?"

"A bear quite literally snatched one of my officers right out of their home."

Lane gulped. "You're shitting me."

"I wish I was," said the sheriff. "Her girlfriend is in the hospital right now. She saw the whole thing. The bear also slaughtered their horse while it was locked up in the barn."

"Jesus," said Lane.

"From what the witness said, the bear showed signs of being infected with the same thing that infected your aunt."

The hairs on the back of Lane's neck stood on end. "So why are you bringing this to my attention?"

Sheriff Enzo and Carlos exchanged looks before Enzo turned back to Lane. "I don't mean to be presumptuous here, but the Stantons had a reputation for being...different. Back in her youth Vanessa used to help out with certain cases. She could detect when the darkness was close by. Is it safe to assume you can do the same?"

Lane nodded reluctantly.

"We could use your help."

Lane laughed. "Are you kidding? You're going to ask me for help after all the crap you put me through? After you arrested me and covered up what happened to Aunt Vanessa, a woman you claim to love so much? No. Get out of here."

Enzo opened his mouth to speak but before he could, Lane said, "Unless you want me to make objects fly around the room again, get the fuck out."

Enzo exhaled exasperatedly and walked out of the kitchen. Lane and Carlos watched each other from opposite sides of the kitchen. They listened together as the screen door opened then shut. A few minutes of silence. Then Carlos said, "He's not used to someone telling him no, or standing up to him. Usually he just gets his way."

"I know," said Lane. "I don't mean to be so abrasive. Behind the spit and vinegar I do have a soft spot...depending on how you approach me."

"Respect."

Lane smiled. "Respect. Luckily for you I like you more than your father." Immediately awkward silence filled the room. Lane scratched the back of his head. I did not just say that. "So the person who was taken, was it your friend, Ramona?"

"Yes."

"How does it look?"

"Bad."

"Who all has been in the house?"

"Just the sheriff and myself."

"And you didn't touch anything, did you?"

Carlos snorted. "Of course not. I know how to investigate a crime scene. I've been a detective for almost half your life."

"Okay, that right there, you sound just like your dad," Lane said, jabbing a finger in the deputy's direction. "I don't care how long you've been a detective. Your gun and badge isn't going to help you. If this creature left anything behind and anybody touched it they could become infected. And if something as big as a bear is carrying it around...that's not good. So I'll go to the crime scene with you. But I'm not doing it for your father, I'm doing it for you. Understand?"

Carlos looked down. He looked tired. He looked like shit. Poor guy can't catch a break, can he? Lane thought.

Together they left the lighthouse. It had begun to rain steadily outside. Carlos stared after Lane, eyebrows creased together.

"What?" Lane said.

"Aren't you going to lock the door?"

Lane blushed guiltily. "I can't find where Vanessa kept her keys for the house and I don't have a pair of my own. The lighthouse isn't mine just yet. Which brings me to my next point?" He walked over to the cruiser; he rapped on the window with his good hand. The hand with the cast on it he kept tucked in the pocket of his black leather jacket. Rain partnered against the windshield, sounding like millions of fingernails tapping against the roof.

The window came down with a droning sound. Sheriff Enzo simply looked at the younger man warily but said nothing. Lane took that as a hint to say what he needed to say.

"I'll help you, but there's a couple things I need in return."

"Okay," Enzo said in a crackly voice.

"I want my car back and everything in it, including my marajuana and I want my aunt's body so I can give her a funeral."

"Her body's already been cremated. I know that's upsetting to hear but we had to do it to ensure the infection didn't spread."

"Can I at least have her ashes so I can give her a proper burial?"

"Of course."

Lane blinked thoughtfully. Already his hair was dripping wet from the rain. "After we find the creature that took Ramona I want the freedom I need to do my investigation...within reason of course. That means you staying off my back as long as I don't ruffle any feathers. Deal?"

"Deal," said Enzo, and offered Lane his hand through the window.

They shook.

                                    …

The last time Lane had sat in the police cruiser he'd been handcuffed. It was strange. Just the day before he'd been trying to dodge the door as best he could - now he was helping them.

He watched the trees pass outside his window. If it wasn't for the fact the police and town officials covered up all that was wrong with the town Lane felt he could come to like the town. Enzo was driving down Donovan Road. Carlos sat in the seat beside him, being very quiet. The windshield wipers swept back and forth, sweeping the rain off the glass.

All too soon they were pulling off the road, into the driveway of a two story farmhouse, which sat on an impressive amount of land. Several yards away from the house was a barn. Behind the house was the woods Lane suspected the woods went back for several miles.

Enzo stopped before the house and pulled the keys from the ignition. He and Carlos had already gotten out of the car by the time Lane stood up on legs that felt like lead. He was looking towards the barn, the first sign something was wrong. Something had busted through the doors.

Something big, he thought. Like a bear.

Suddenly Lane wanted nothing more than to get away from this place. The same sense of dread he felt whenever the darkness was close by had returned. He was afraid. Why did I agree to this? Bad move. If it wasn't for his pride he would have walked away; just turn around and walk back down Donovan Road until he reached the lighthouse if that was what it took.

"You said it went for the barn first?" Lane said.

"That's right," said Sheriff Enzo, spitting into the grass.

"Can I take a look?"

"Knock yourself out."

Soggy grass squelched under their feet as the trio walked towards the barn with Lane in the lead. He was painfully aware of the looming presence of the barn. Inside the shadows pulsed with a vitality of their own. Despite the jacket he wore he was now cold. The rain showed no signs of letting up.

Lane was several feet away when he smelled death. It was a hot turgid smell that assaulted his nose. Instinctively he sucked in his breath and began breathing solely through his mouth. He could hear the manic buzzing of flies.

Horrors awaited him he knew.

At long last Lane reached the door. Unaware he was using his broken hand, he slowly pulled the door open. As if sensing freedom a cluster of flies flew for the open air despite the wind. Lane hesitated once more. I don't want to go in there, not really. I'm getting tired of seeing dead things.

He took three steps into the barn. He didn't want to go in any further, not unless he had to. Lane glanced over his shoulder to make sure Enzo and Carlos were still with him; they stood over by the barn door. Carlos had covered his face with a napkin he must have pulled from his pocket. Lane was grateful for their presence. At least they had guns. He found himself missing his little Wesson. It wouldn't have done shit to a giant bear but it would've made him feel better to have it all the same.

"Look down on the ground," said Enzo. "See the tracks."

Yes, Lane could see the tracks, imprinted in the dirt. Bear tracks. They led him directly to the stall where the dead smell was coming from. Already he could see the blood smeared on the stall door; it had long since coagulated from the exposure to the air. He tiptoed towards the stall and cautiously peered over the stall.

He couldn't have stopped himself from vomiting up the toast he'd eaten earlier in the morning even if he wanted to. Fortunately there wasn't much to vomit up because the toast was all he'd had to eat this morning. He wiped his mouth and forced himself to stand up. He backed out of the barn, taking deep breaths, waiting for his heartbeat to slow. In his mind's eye he could still see the horse; its innards had seeped out onto the straw covered floor, a mixed pile of guts, intestines, and blood, already darkened with the beginning stages of decay. Masses of flies clung to it as if it was the last great meal they'd ever have in their short insect lives.

"Okay," he said almost casually. "Ready to show me the house?"

The house was better in the fact that there were no dead horses lying about...but worse in other ways. Lane now stood in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by blood and shattered glass. But where his eyes remained fixed was the trickle of blood and black fluid on the window sill. He felt like he might throw up again. Only there was nothing left to throw up.

"Yep, it's official," he said, looking at Enzo and Carlos. They had stood over by the fridge to give him space. He jabbed a finger at the black stuff. "You're bear is infected. Did you check the rest of the house?"

"Yes," said Enzo.

"I mean everything. Every nook, every cranny." Lane began ticking things off on his fingers. "In the closets, under the beds. Remember what I said about this thing leaving behind stains?"

"We checked everything," said Carlos.

"Then there's only one thing you can do if you want to make sure the infection doesn't spread. Burn the house down."