Adermoor Cove: Donovan Road - 9. Chapter 9

News about Ramona Sterling’s disappearance spread through town like wildfire. Carlos suspected it would even be a bigger deal than the death of Vanessa Stanton, for how could a cop on the sheriff's department just come up missing in a town like Adermoor Cove?

He had to admit it was smart of his father to use the town's need for gossip and excitement to their advantage. He held a press conference on the lawn of the court house just as he'd done for Vanessa Stanton's death, and called for volunteers to help with the search party starting in the afternoon.

Three hours later almost fifty people had gathered at the front of the woods behind Ramona's house. Most of them were men but there were a few women and everyone had brought their rifles. Lucille Farmsworth was there as well, and she hadn't brought her rifle but a Bible instead. Carlos imagined her trying to preach the word of God, only to get eaten. The bear would only be doing this town a big favor, Carlos thought.

There were two people he hadn't expected to see there. One of them was Ted, one of the few people who'd actually thought to bring a poncho since it looked like a storm was brewing up. The other was Lane Hardy, wearing his black leather jacket and black jeans. Curious eyes and whispers followed him as he made his way over to Carlos. Carlos immediately felt a sense of calm wash over him at the sight of the younger man.

"You're the last person I expected to see," said Carlos. "I didn't take you for the bear hunting type."

"Usually I'm not," said Lane. "Never been hunting a day in my life. But I want to help you find your friend if I can."

Carlos looked away, uncomfortable by the swell of emotion that passed over him. He managed to smile and say, "I'm glad you're coming along."

Lane smiled grimly. "I wouldn't say that just yet. Bad things tend to happen when I'm around."

"Alright people!" Sheriff Enzo hollered. He had a rifle settled on top of his shoulder. "Gather 'round!" Everyone drew in closer to hear what he had to say. "We are going to gather into four different groups. Each group will be going with an officer from my department. You are to stay with that officer at all times. No one needs to try and run off and play hero on their own. The bear that took her could be very territorial. Any questions?"

Everyone was silent, eager to begin the search through the woods.

"Alright, do your thing." He made a follow-me motion with his hands. "Carlos and Lane, you're with me."

People talked in low, excited whispers, while gathering into groups. The officers helped by giving directions. Carlos and Lane went to Enzo, with Ted in tow.

"Just what I've always wanted," Lane said jovially, as their little group began making their way into the trees. "An adventure."

Carlos couldn't help but laugh, reminded of how glad he was Lane was coming along. Enzo turned his head to Ted. "Ted, you were quite the hunter weren't you?"

"In my younger days," Ted said, pushing aside a branch. "Not so much after my wife died."

Enzo remained at the front of the group with Carlos behind him, then Lane, then Ted taking up the rear with a Winchester strapped to his shoulder. Thunder rumbled overhead in the grey clouds floating above the trees and the wind had picked up. Enzo gestured for the group to pick up the pace.

Carlos glanced along the ground for some signs the bear had come through this way. Sadly tracking was not a skill he'd mastered. Still, he imagined it would be pretty easy to catch a bear.

Ted suddenly came to a stop looking towards the left. "Look, right there. Something in the dirt. Looks like it might be a print."

Frowning Enzo bent over it. Carlos and Lane gathered around to look. Sure enough, imprinted in the dirt was bear paws angling deeper into the woods.

"Well at least now we can see where the beast is headed," said Enzo.

                                 …

Moira was finally out of the hospital, finally back in her own place. For the past thirty to forty minutes since stepping through the front door, Moira had stood in the living room, uncertain of what to do. Uncertain of how to function.

It was hard to believe she'd stood here just a few days ago; she felt like a soldier who'd just come back from war after years of being gone. She didn't have the energy to move or think, or do anything but breathe and ache. After a moment she managed to drag herself across the studio apartment to her futon, where she dumped herself. It felt good to be out of the hospital, away from the smell of disinfectant and the constant ruckus of nurses constantly coming in to check on her.

She was about to drift off when there was a knock at the door. Now what?

The visitor at the door turned out to be Stan Prescott, a journalist from The Adermoor Cove Chronicle. He was young, in his late twenties, with his hair combed over. Moira had only met him once when she'd given an interview at the farmer's market last summer, when Ramona and she had had their own booth. They'd been selling cabbages. The memory unmoored fresh feelings of grief within Moira. It was everything she could do to keep herself from slamming the door in Stan's face.

"Hi," Moira he said nervously. "I'm if I'm showing up a bad time. I just wanted to say if you wanted to say a few words about what happened on Donovan Road."

She remembered the last time she'd spoken with Stan he'd been kind. A little too nervous, a little too unconfident in himself, but genuinely a nice young man, and his breath smelled pleasantly of spearmint. It didn't stop her from feeling angry. Why can't people just leave me alone? a small voice inside her head whined. It was the voice of a sleep deprived person.

"Not today, Stan," she said, forcing a smile. "I just got out of the hospital."

"Okay, I understand. I'll just come back in a couple days and maybe we can talk then."

Come back never, she thought. I'm done talking about it.

And then she remembered what Carlos and the strange young man had told her back at the hospital, about how the town liked to cover certain things up. Maybe telling her story might not be such a bad idea after all. People needed to know what happened to Ramona and what Moira herself had been through.

Stan was already beginning to walk away, bag hanging from his shoulder.

"Stan, wait."

He turned to look back at her, eyes a little too hopeful behind his glasses.

Moira scratched at the back of her head. "You'd just think I'm crazy."

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter what I think, Miss Compton. It matters what the town knows."

Respecting him all the more, Moira stepped back to let him in.

                                 …

They'd been combing the woods for almost an hour when it began to rain. It pattered against the shoulders of Lane's jacket, refreshingly cold. Ted was now at the head of the group, following the bear tracks, which led them deeper into the woods, closer to the edge of the island. It seemed everyone was determined to keep searching despite the rain. For Lane it felt good to do something other than running. To be helping for once.

Again, Ted came to a stop, holding his hand up. There was something in the middle of the path.

Sheriff Enzo stepped out of the way enough for Lane to get a good look at what it was.

A shoe. A single shoe.

And there was blood on it.

Lane felt a cold shiver go up his spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

"Is it Ramona's?" Sheriff Enzo asked Carlos.

Carlos only nodded shakily, his face solemnly. Lane fought the urge to put his hand on his shoulder. The group watched grimly as Sheriff Enzo pulled a large Zip lock bag from his jacket pocket and put the shoe inside.

"Let's go just a little bit further," Enzo said.

The group was more tense as they continued to make their way through the trees. Lane dreaded what they might find next: another shoe or a severed body part. The rain did not subside. Thunder cracked overhead, seeming to grow louder the deeper into the woods they journeyed. It wasn't long before a familiar sensation came over Lane: the hair on the back of his neck standing on end, goosebumps breaking out over his flesh.

"Stop," he said.

The others, now up ahead, stopped. They looked back expectantly.

Lane closed his eyes and willed himself to focus just as Aunt Vanessa had told him to do right before she died. He could sense something close by, just up ahead. The question was if they should keep heading towards it or hightail it back in the other direction.

"There's something up ahead."

Enzo turned his head to look, then swiveled it back to Lane. "I don't see anything."

"Which doesn't change the fact there's something up ahead. I can feel it."

A revelation dawned across Enzo's face as he realized what he meant. "Any idea what it is?"

"No. It could be the bear or it could be something else. Whatever it is, it's dangerous. The question is whether you want to see what it is or not." The cold from the rain was beginning to seep into Lane's flesh. His hair had become soggy, matted to his skull. He looked at Carlos. "It's up to you, Carlos. It's your friend we're looking for."

"I want to see what it is," Carlos said after a moment's thought. "But if it turns out to be too dangerous we beat it back the way we came." He looked at Ted. "You don't have to come, Ted, if you don't want to. I'll understand."

"We all know what goes on in this town," said Ted. "I lost my wife to the darkness the same way you lost your friend, Carlos. I'm not turning back. I don't think any of us are. So let's see what we're dealing with."

Carlos nodded.

Now it was Lane's turn to lead the group onward. They walked another half mile before coming to a cliff. At the bottom of it was a cave.

"Uh, I don't remember this being here," said Ted.

"What?" said Carlos.

"I've been through these woods many times, hiked over every square mile, and unless my memory is failing me this cave was never here." Ted looked to Enzo for confirmation.

"Well it's here now."

Lane had only been half listening. He was too busy following the bear tracks with his eyes. A sense of nausea turned his stomach as the tracks led directly to the mouth of the cave where his gaze lingered. The bear had dragged Ramona into the cave, of this he was sure.

Something about the cave itself struck a cord of fear in him. He wanted to look away but couldn't. He imagined Ramona's body somewhere inside, ripped to shreds, partially mauled. And the darkness inside seemed alive somehow, with a mind of its own.

He could feel eyes on him, watching him.

With a flash a thought struck him. A revelation. This is it. This is where the darkness comes from. This is the source.

Sheriff Enzo had pulled out a flashlight and shined it in the entrance, slowly walking towards it.

"Stay away from there!" Lane shouted, feeling as though a hand had tightened around his heart.

All three of the men turned to look at him. Sheriff Enzo was now standing with his back turned to the cave. Lane heard Carlos ask him what was wrong, but he couldn't articulate what he was feeling inside. He just knew they needed to get away from this place.

"I can't explain it, okay?" Lane said to them. He had begun to shiver. He wanted nothing more than to go back to the lighthouse and have another cup of hot cocoa. "Just...this isn't a good place."

"Ramona's probably in there," said Carlos.

"I hate to say it but Ramona's dead." Lane wasn't sticking around any longer. It was time to go home.