The Revenant: A Horror in Dodsville Read online

  Mrs. Potch sighed heavily. "I like you, Stephen," she said. "Yet, trouble does seem to follow you around." She pushed up her glasses and headed to the back room behind the counter.

  Stephen stared at the stairs a minute before going up to Ann. He shouldn't get her involved any deeper than she was. Trouble did follow him around, and that was a fact.

  Ann was seated on the chair by the window when Stephen entered his room. She had her hands folded in her lap and looked up at him with a smile. "She mad at you?" she asked.

  Stephen sat on his bed and sighed. "We have to talk, Ann," he said, not facing her.

  Ann got up from the chair and sat next to him on the bed. "You're dumping me, aren't you?"

  "Things in my life are vastly complicated right now," he replied, still looking down into his lap. "Too complicated for me to even start to explain."

  She grabbed him by the chin and forced him to look at her. "You're in love with Melissa. That's it, isn't it?"

  Stephen started to reply but hesitated. Was he? "I guess maybe I feel more for her than I was letting on. As much to myself as to you." He grabbed her hand and held tight. "But that doesn't take anything away from last night. You don't know how much I needed you."

  "Needed. Past tense." She stood. "You're a strange one, Stephen O'Neal." She held out her hand. "Friends?"

  Stephen took it. "Friends."

  Ann stopped at his door on her way out. "One thing before I go," she said, with her back to him. "Are you involved with what's happening in this town?"

  "Somehow, I think I am," he replied. "But, honestly, I have no idea why or how." He paused briefly. "But I do intend finding out."

  Ann turned around. "Keep in touch. And if there's anything I can do for you while you're in Dodsville, let me know. All right?"

  "Will do."

  Stephen stared at the empty doorway a minute after she left. When he heard the outside door shut and her footsteps on the gravel parking lot, he walked to the window and sat down. He watched her walk down the block and out of sight. "Well, Stephen," he said to himself. "Alone again . . . naturally."

  He crawled onto the bed and lay looking at the ceiling. A few minutes later he dozed off.

  After an hour of deep sleep, he awoke with a start and looked at his watch. Ten-thirty. The morning was only half over. He yawned and sat up. The room was already stifling hot. Pulling his shirt off over his head, he headed to the window for some fresh air.

  Halfway down the block, a man was walking away from the boarding house. From the back he looked a lot like Randy Beliwitz. He squinted to get a better look. "It couldn't be," he whispered. "He's not that stupid."

  He stood and leaned out the window. "Hey, Beliwitz!" he yelled.

  The man looked back at him briefly--just long enough for Stephen to get a good look at his face. Then he turned and continued at the same pace.

  "I don't believe it." Stephen picked his shirt from the bed and ran out of his apartment. "He is crazy." He ran through the sitting room, got another disapproving glare from Mrs. Potch, and flew into the parking lot.

  Randy was no longer in sight. He ran down the street a ways, and stopped when a kid on his bike turned the corner ahead of him and peddled in his direction.

  "Hey, kid," Stephen said as the boy reached him. "Did you see anybody walking away from here just now?"

  The kid only shook his head and biked on past him without a word of reply.

  "Damn," Stephen murmured. Yet, he thought, I now know that the asshole is still in Dodsville . . . as well as the direction he was headed. He pulled his shirt on over his head and started back toward the boarding house.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE:

  Tragedy Strikes Home

  As he walked up the steps to the front entrance of the boarding house, Stephen turned to face a car pulling into the gravel parking lot behind him. He recognized Julie and Sly in the front seat and Tabitha in the back by herself. No Melissa, but that didn't surprise him too much after last night. Anyway, he needed a little more time to prepare on how he was going to tell her how he felt about her. Julie drove right up to the steps and parked there.

  "I don't think Mrs. Potch would like it if . . ." he started to say, but the sullen expression on all three faces as they got out of the car told him something more had happened. Something he wouldn't want to hear about. Maybe, he hoped, they simply heard about Charlie and his involvement. Maybe they didn't know that Pierce had already gotten to him and they were thinking they'd be the first to tell him.

  Sly was the first to speak: "Let's go up to your room." He motioned toward the front entrance, not meeting Stephen's eyes. "We need to talk. Something has transpired that changes the whole ball game."

  Sly spoke in an expressionless monotone. Stephen noticed that the other two weren't looking at him, either. This, he thought, is something bigger than Charlie Fiest. "Where's Melissa?" he asked, suddenly wishing desperately she were there.

  Sly motioned toward the front door again. "Let’s go to your room."

  Too frightened now to ask anything more, Stephen quietly led the way through the lobby, up the stairs and into his apartment. He closed the door after they all entered.

  "Something has happened to Melissa, hasn't it?" he asked, not turning to face them. He only looked down at the doorknob.

  Sly replied quite bluntly, "She's missing."

  Stephen whipped around. "What do you mean--missing?"

  All three of them shifted uncomfortably on their feet, but no one replied. Stephen's arm began to itch miserably under his cast.

  He couldn't take the silence any longer. "She's not--"

  "She came back to my house," Julie said, interrupting his last horrid thought, "after coming here to talk to you last night."

  "She was crying," Tabitha added. Her eyes met Stephen's for a second, but she quickly turned away. Her face hardened.

  "So?" Stephen asked after no one picked up where Tabitha left off. "What happened?"

  Sly sat down on the only chair by the window, and the two women sat on his bed. Stephen remained standing by his door. He didn't want to hear anymore, but he knew he would have to.

  "You’re all are blaming me," he said at length, feeling their glares, even though they didn't look right at him. "Aren't you?" Not that he cared. He was even getting use to carrying the brunt of the blame lately.

  "No," Sly replied. "None of us here think you did anything blatantly wrong." And then, after a pause: "On the other hand, we've misjudged you. Melissa was crying because you were going out with Ann Smith. We had told Melissa you were in love with her."

  Stephen was quickly becoming impatient. "What does any of that have to do with the fact she is now missing?" His knees suddenly felt weak, and he leaned against the door. "Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?"

  "She left last night," Julie replied. "For a walk, she said. She never came back to the house."

  "And we've called everywhere," Tabitha added, still unable to look at Stephen.

  Newspaper headlines shouted at him in his mind about all the missing persons in Dodsville--along with all of the murders. "You don't mean . . .?" He couldn't finish the question.

  "We're not saying we know for sure that she's missing like all of the other people considered missing in Dodsville are," Sly said. "But we do have to include that possibility."

  The thought of Randy walking away from the boarding house only minutes ago entered Stephen's mind. Randy must have her, he thought quietly to himself. Randy is behind Melissa's disappearance. "I'll find you." He said this last aloud, though under his breath.

  "You’ll find who?" Sly asked.

  "We have to find Melissa," Stephen replied quickly. "What do you have planned?"

  Julie replied, "The only thing we could think of was to do a complete search of the town. Go to every possible place she might be. And we'll have to split up so we can cover more ground more quickly."

  "I will take off in my car," said Sly. "And Julie in her
s. Since you don't know as much about Melissa and where she's apt to be hiding, you should go with Tabitha in her car. Especially since you have the use of only one arm. In case of an emergency or something."

  "I rented a car this morning," Stephen said. "It's that Ford Escort right out front."

  "Good," Julie said. "Then Sly needs to take only me back to the apartment to get my car. You two can leave right from here."

  "You and Tabitha take the south side of town," Sly instructed. "I'll take the Hill and the old industrial area. Julie, you can cover the north side of town. Everyone set?"

  They nodded.

  "Good. Then I say we start right now."

  "What are we waiting for?" Stephen said, bending over to pick up a pair of dirty socks from the floor. "Let's get to it."

  "We'll meet back at Julie's at one o'clock," Sly said, as he and Julie moved toward the door.

  "What if she shows back up at the apartment while we're all out looking for her?" Stephen asked. He sat down on the bed next to Tabitha and pulled on the socks.

  "Got you covered there," Julie replied. "I'll leave a note on the kitchen table for her to stay put."

  They left, leaving only a sulking Tabitha in the room with Stephen. And he didn't really want her tagging along. He knew he was going after Randy, and if he found him there was going to be trouble. He put on his tennis shoes and sat staring at her, thinking of how to get rid of her.

  "What are you waiting for?" Tabitha asked. Her facial expression wasn't as hard as before, but she still looked angry with him.

  Stephen dug into his pants pocket and pulled out his car keys. He threw them onto her lap. "You go alone," he said. "I have something I need to check out on my own first."

  Tabitha picked up the keys. "You know something, don't you?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

  "Maybe."

  "Then I want to come with you."

  Stephen shook his head. "No. I really have to do this by myself."

  "Do you know where Melissa is?" Tabitha stood in front of him with her arms folded across her chest and the keys dangling from her right hand.

  "No," he replied. "And I'm not giving you any information on this. Now, please, get out of here."

  "All right." She walked to the door, but stopped and turned around to face him before she left. "You will be careful, won't you? Enough has happened to us already."

  "Yes, I will." Tabitha smiled and turned to leave. "Tabitha?" Stephen stopped her. "I do love her, you know?"

  Tabitha nodded twice. “I know that,” she said, and left.

  Stephen went to his window and sat down. He would wait until Tabitha was out of the parking lot, and then he would go after Beliwitz on foot. Randy had a good ten-minute head start on Stephen since he had seen him walking away from the boarding house.

  He watched as Tabitha walked down the front steps. He watched as she walked across the parking lot to his car, the only one remaining in the lot. She smiled and waved to him when she saw him looking down at her. Stephen waved back. He watched her stick the key in the door lock. He watched her slide into the driver side seat and close the car door behind her. And he watched as his blue Ford Escort exploded in a fireball.

  End Part Two

  Part Three

  The Revenant

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR:

  Another Funeral

  I was having a nightmare. Even as the blast of the explosion broke the glass from the window in front of me, I thought for sure the horror unfolding down in the parking lot was only a part of a bad dream. I covered my head to protect myself from the flying glass and backed away from the window. Running down the stairs on my way out to the parking lot, I felt like my feet were in quicksand. Everything around me appeared to be in slow motion. I would awaken any second now, I thought as I reached the bottom of the stairs and continued through the front lobby, wipe the sweat from my brow, and laugh.

  But I kept running. The Escort that I had just rented an hour ago was in flames. Mrs. Potch and a few of the residents had beaten me outside, and now they watched as the car burned.

  Mrs. Potch turned to see me running up behind her, and her facial expression turned from one of horror to one of relief. "Thank God, Stephen," she said when I reached the small group of onlookers. "I thought you were in there."

  I pushed my way through them without comment and stopped as close as I could get to the blaze. "Tabitha!" I heard myself scream, but again it sounded as though it were only originating from a dream. I began to inch my way forward, shielding my face from the intense heat. Someone shouted my name behind me.

  A breeze spread the flames for a second, allowing me to see into the Escort’s driver seat. A body, blackened by the blast and fire, leaned against the steering wheel. No more blond hair-- just a frizzle of white. Her face was so blackened and burnt that it no longer held any features. Then the wind shifted and flames enveloped her again.

  Someone grabbed me from behind and pulled me back. Another person helped, but it wasn't necessary--I offered no resistance.

  "Who's in there?" an elderly man I didn't recognize asked me as he held on tightly to my left shoulder.

  I didn't answer. I kept seeing Randy Beliwitz walking away from the parking lot. As I looked down the block in the direction he had headed only minutes ago, a fire engine turned the corner and sped toward us. More engines followed. Detective Pierce's familiar brown station wagon was among them.

  Falling to my knees, I slammed my fist into the gravel-- again and again and again . . .

  On the day of Tabitha's funeral only a handful of people showed. The town had become too frightened now; the horror show had become too real. Maybe they thought coming here to the church to pay their respects to one of the murdered would somehow involve them. No one felt safe anymore. This terror wasn't just happening to "the other guy"; persons they knew were affected in some manner. And I didn't blame them for not coming. Once the sun set for the evening, the entire town became ominously quiet. Fear had become an entity in itself. Even the local taverns were hurting for business, and that was unheard of in small-town Wisconsin.

  Five persons had been murdered and buried since my arrival four weeks ago, and more than twenty others were missing. Including Melissa. But she was alive somewhere; I could feel her presence call out to me when I was on the verge of falling asleep in the evening. She was waiting for me to find her.

  And that would mean finding Beliwitz first.

  No one outright accused me for Tabitha's death, but when I spoke to Mr. Price he would only glare at me for a second and walk away. I understood, though. He needed someone to blame, and Beliwitz wasn't available. Not yet.

  Someone tapped me on the shoulder as I stood in the foyer, in the same suit I had worn for the previous two funerals, except for a new shirt that I had to buy. I turned to face Sly and Julie.

  "Where you been, buddy?" Sly asked. He was trying to make me feel better, but I saw right through him. Julie stood next to Sly, unable to look me in the eyes.

  I had disappeared the day after the explosion, and for two reasons: one was because I couldn't face those accusing eyes anymore, and secondly because I was searching diligently for Randy. Detective Pierce had worn me out with his questioning. Sly and Julie had told him I was to have been with Tabitha in that car, and he, as well as everyone else, wanted to know why she was leaving by herself. Finally, Sheriff Ryan had seen I had had enough and let me go.

  "Just needed to be by myself for a bit," I replied. To get into the truth would only mean more questions.

  "Well, you should have let us know where you were," Julie said, finally looking me in the eyes. I saw concern there, and I felt slightly guilty. "We were worried."

  The church bell began to sound its woeful peal. Julie grabbed my good arm, and Sly's, and we escorted her inside. We walked Julie down to the front row, past the closed coffin, and left her there with her father. Sly and I proceeded to back row and sat there by ourselves. Other than the four of us there were
only twelve others at the service. I felt suddenly unduly grateful for Sly's companionship.

  As I sat there as far away from Tabitha's body as I could, it hit me that I was never to see her again. Before, I had been hardened by all of the deaths in my life lately, and it felt like just part of my entire existence. I had been in a daze the last few days, not facing up to reality. Now, however, I couldn't stop myself from weeping.

  During Reed's funeral there had been one more in the front row with Mr. Price and Julie. Now the one currently not present was the one in the coffin. It should have been me.

  But I would have my day.

  In the middle of the eulogy, as I daydreamed about catching up with Beliwitz, Sly leaned over and whispered in my ear. "I'm with you on this one."

  When I looked over at him, he only winked and turned his attention back to the minister. He had lost, I noticed, that constant confident expression I remembered him having when I first met him. "What do you mean?" I whispered back.

  "I'm with you," he repeated, and again turned back to the eulogy.

  It was almost as if he had been reading my mind when I was thinking about tracking down and nabbing Beliwitz. I decided against pursuing the matter with Sly for now. Anyway, I was fairly sure he would bring up the subject again soon enough.

  Only three cars followed the hearse out to the cemetery to lay Tabitha to rest before her time. Mr. Price and Julie followed in the first, the relatives (including the pallbearers) were next, and Sly and I pulled up the rear. Mr. Price hadn't asked either one of us to help as pallbearers. I understood why he didn't want to ask me, but I was confused on what he had against Sly. Maybe Sly had said something in my defense, and that had only angered Mr. Price.