The Revenant: A Horror in Dodsville Read online

  The day was a scorcher; ninth afternoon in a row the temperature would top out at over ninety degrees. Everyone there sweated around the grave in his or her formal clothes. As the minister read from the Bible, my thoughts went back to the days when Tabitha was a little girl, and Reed and I would pick on her mercilessly. The first time she had worn a dress, we followed her around the house jokingly begging her for a date. She acted as if she was upset, but I knew she loved every minute of attention she received from Reed and me. I wondered now what she would have turned out to be with my constant influence--if I hadn’t moved away all those years ago.

  When the last words were said and everyone started shuffling toward their automobiles, Mr. Price grabbed me by my left arm above the cast. "A word with you please," he said hoarsely. I could feel his fingernails cutting into my skin.

  I followed him away from the procession and he didn't let go until we stopped under a large oak. I almost knew his exact words before he spoke them. "Stay away from my Julie," he said. His eyes meant he wasn't kidding around. "If you care for her at all, stay away from her. You understand?"

  He was right, of course. Death followed me around, picking off anyone getting close enough to me. Yet, I wasn't responsible for anybody's demise. "Mr. Price, I understand where you're coming from, but you have to believe that I had nothing to do with that bomb in my car. It's Randy Beliwitz you want to stay away from Julie. Not me."

  He again grabbed me above my cast, though this time he squeezed hard enough for his fingernails to draw blood. It hurt, but I didn't say anything. The expression of anger, loss, and hurt on his face more than told me not to speak. "You listen to me, now," he said. "Don't make me do something I'll regret later." He released me and headed toward his car. Julie was waiting for him there. I turned away so I wouldn't have to look at her.

  Remaining under the oak tree, I kicked at a root that was sticking up through the grass like a petrified snake coming up for air. What had Mr. Price meant by that last remark? It almost sounded like a death threat.

  Sly walked up to me. "What was that all about?"

  "Go ahead without me, Sly," I said, ignoring his question. "I'm going to walk."

  "Nonsense. It's at least a half an hour walk from here to Julie's.”

  "I'm not going to Julie's," I replied. "I'm going back to the boarding house, and that's not that far."

  Sly cocked his head and looked at me as though he were trying to read my thoughts. "What's with you, Stephen? You've been avoiding everyone, feeling sorry for yourself, for too damn long. No one, in case you worried about it, is blaming you."

  The other cars took off, leaving only Sly and me in the cemetery.

  "I just need to be alone right now. Can't you understand that?"

  "Julie's afraid you are going to do something drastic."

  "Maybe I am." I turned away from him and began walking toward the woods that lined the cemetery.

  "Just you be damn careful!" Sly called after me. "If anything happens to you, we may never find Melissa. And it would just kill Julie. She cares for you a great deal." He paused. "You hear me, O'Neal?"

  I kept walking without turning around.

  I didn't want him to see the tears in my eyes.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE:

  A Discovery

  I walked about ten minutes into the forest, far enough away from the pressures of the city, small as it was, and sat down under a group of pines. There was no undergrowth where I was under the thick foliage, as no sunlight could weave its way through the pine's branches. Only brown pine needles littered the ground, which wasn't all that uncomfortable.

  The tears that were dammed behind my eyes began to gush out. I cried like a four-year old who had just learned of one of life's unfair moments. I wanted to lean on Melissa's shoulder, but she wasn't there. I wanted to lean on Ann's shoulder, but she could never be there for me. I couldn't drag her into this mess. I was a misfit now. If only I had been smart enough to leave right after Reed's funeral none of this would be happening. Tabitha and Grandma would still be alive. Melissa would be safely at home, and not amongst the missing. Trouble did follow me around. That was no longer debatable. Somehow I had become the center of what was happening in Dodsville, and that made it up to me to put a stop to it all.

  And finding Beliwitz was the first step.

  A twig snapped on the other side of the embankment to my left, breaking the peacefulness of the countryside. I quickly wiped the tears off my cheeks and eyes, more afraid of the embarrassment of someone stumbling upon me when I had been crying than of fear of any danger. I crawled deeper into the darkness offered by the pines, but the definite crack of a branch breaking again stopped me cold in my tracks.

  As quietly as I could, I stepped out from under the pines and scaled the short embankment. My cheeks burned from the drying salty tears, but I hardly noticed. I had a feeling about who was trekking through these woods. I slowly stuck my head out over the small shrubs that topped the embankment, and almost directly beneath me walked Randy Beliwitz. Quickly ducking back down, I hoped he hadn't noticed me. His footsteps crunching the undergrowth continued deeper into the thicket. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  I had him. I finally had the bastard. Regaining my composure, I stood up on top of the embankment to see where Randy was heading. He was walking about fifty yards past me, seemingly having no set course in mind. He didn't watch in front of him; he spent more time trying to find a branch to kick. I crawled down the embankment on his side, and began to surreptitiously follow. I kept at least one tree between us at all times, in case he decided to turn around and see if anyone was following.

  Of course, I thought. He must have watched the funeral. He killed the girl he loved by accident, and he had to be torn up inside about it. Or maybe he had spotted me entering these woods, and now he was out to finish the job he had intended in the first place. Or, and this seemed more likely as he did not look around him like a man searching for somebody, he was hiding out somewhere near here.

  We both kept trudging through the undergrowth for the better part of the next half hour before the forest came to an end along County Trunk Highway DD. I watched as he checked for cars, and then as he ran across the pavement, I crept up to the ditch. He continued walking along the highway in front of the hayfield that ran along that side of the road. He headed due north--in the direction of the old Wickerman Place. I climbed a maple tree on the edge of the woods and watched him. Wickerman's was visible from where I sat in the tree.

  A car came along, and Randy dove into the hayfield in plenty of time and remained hidden until long after the car had passed. Then he popped back up, looked both ways down the pavement, and continued his walk toward Wickerman's.

  "Please stop there," I said to myself as he approached the driveway.

  As if to obey my wish, he stopped in front of the driveway and again looked both ways down the road. Satisfied no one could see him, he proceeded into the yard. He walked past the house, worrying me for a minute, but he continued to the barn behind it. He turned to see if anyone was behind him, ducked quickly inside, and shut the barn door.

  I could have kicked myself for not looking there long ago. Even though I was sure the police had checked out any deserted building in the area, Randy could have easily seen them coming and hid in the hayfields until they left. Wickerman's was a perfect hideout. Not even the local kids would bother him, with Wickerman's reputation of being haunted.

  Staying on the edge of the forest, I walked in the opposite direction until I was sure I was well out of sight of Wickerman's. Then I popped out onto the highway and walked the remaining mile until I reached the Country Bar and Grill.

  I ordered a Pepsi and took two quarters from the change to call Sly.

  "What the hell are you doing way out there?" he asked when I told him to come pick me up.

  I tried to sound a bit drunk when I replied. "Just ended up here." I wanted him to think I had gone over the edge for a few hours and only wished
to drown my sorrows at the bottom of a gin bottle.

  Sly hesitated before saying anything more. At length, he said, "Oh, all right. Just don't leave there."

  "I won't."

  I returned to the bar to finish my Pepsi while I waited for Sly. Although a hard drink sounded good, I knew I needed to have complete control of all my faculties when I faced down Beliwitz and rescued Melissa.

  Rescued Melissa. I repeated those two words silently in my brain. Since the day she turned up missing until now when we buried Tabitha, I had been living under the premise that she was still very much alive. Yet, somewhere from the back of my mind, the thought crept forward that maybe I would never see her again.

  "No," I said, and shook my head. She was alive.

  "Problem, buddy?" the bartender asked, walking toward me from behind the bar.

  "I was just thinking of something," I replied. He nodded and returned to his conversation with the patrons at the other end of the bar.

  Besides, I thought, I had other reasons for going after Beliwitz. God had until this evening to act his vengeance upon Randy. If he didn't by then, it would be my turn to administer my own version of justice.

  The front entrance of the tavern opened, allowing the bright sunshine from outside to pour through for a few seconds, and Sly followed. He was alone, and I had expected Julie to be with him, reaching for my hair right now to pull some of it out. I asked Sly where she was.

  "Sleeping," he replied, sitting in the stool next to me. He smoked his pipe, and I smiled. It was normal. "And I didn't want to wake her. What's happened lately has knocked some of the life out of her, and if she slept the day away it could only do her good." He looked down at my drink, and seeing it was only a soft drink he broke into a slight grin. "So, what you up to, Stephen?"

  "Nothing much," I replied. I finished the rest of the Pepsi. "Just needed to sort a few things out."

  Sly eyed me suspiciously. "You've been looking for Randy, haven't you?"

  I tried to give him an expression of consternation. "No," I said, standing. "It's like I said before. I walked around a while, trying to sort out my life, and I ended up here."

  "Right," Sly said, but his expression showed he didn't believe a word of it. He got up from his stool. "Let's head back, shall we?"

  I followed him out to the car. "Just drop me off at the boarding house," I said as we drove into town.

  Sly shook his head. "Julie would never forgive me--or you." Then, after a pause: "Besides, Stephen, she needs you right now. If you weren't so damn selfish and wallowing in your own pity, you'd recognized that others are hurting too."

  I told him about what Mr. Price had said to me after the funeral.

  Sly stopped me before I even finished. "Don't pay any attention to what he says right now. He's just lost two of his children in the matter of a month's time, and I am positive he doesn't mean what he says."

  "You didn't see his expression," I replied. "I even thought that maybe he was threatening my life if I went near Julie."

  "Like I said, don't worry about it."

  I sighed, knowing I wasn't going to get anywhere with this argument. Besides, the whole matter would be settled tonight. Tonight I would put an end to this horror running amok in Dodsville. Randy was behind it all; I believed that deep within my soul. And tonight I would be with Melissa. I would tell her how I felt about her, and she would fall into my arms--just like in the movies. Things had to work that way. They just had to . . .

  Julie was sitting on the couch when we arrived. Sly had left a note saying he was going out to retrieve me; nevertheless, she was steaming.

  She calmly stood when we walked through the front door. "This is the second time in the last couple of days you've scared the shit out of me," she said, getting right up into my face. "And I, for one, have had enough of your self-pitying antics. Do you understand?"

  "Who cares?" I replied, unable to catch my words before they spewed out of my mouth.

  Julie slapped me--hard. "How dare you." Some spittle flew from her mouth as she spoke. She pursed her lips to say more, but tears broke up her sentence. She shook her head at me, and then ran upstairs to her bedroom.

  I started after her, but Sly grabbed me by my arm and held me back. "I'll go," he said. "We all seem to be a little on edge tonight." He released me. "Go to bed, Stephen. Tomorrow's a new day." And then he headed up the steps after his girlfriend.

  All alone now in the living room, I began plotting my adventure for the upcoming evening. Thoughts of calling the police and letting them handle it crossed my mind, though only briefly. Heavier thoughts of Tabitha, Reed, and Grandma pushed them out. I needed to do this alone.

  I wanted to be at the barn by about midnight. By then Randy should have fallen asleep somewhere in the haymow, and the last thing he would be expecting so late in the evening was a raid. I would find him, wake him, and make him plead for his miserable life. Of course, I didn't plan on killing him; though I may just inflict a little pain. Maybe even some permanent damage. After he told about Melissa, that was. I remembered from my childhood days when I visited a school friend on his farm. His older brother had burrowed several tunnels throughout the haymow, and only he knew the way out once one was in far enough. Randy could be hidden deep within a labyrinth by now. Of course, this was all on the assumption there was hay stored in that old barn. Still, why else would Beliwitz be using it as a hideout?

  Standing in front of the picture window, I watched as the sun set and darkness crept across the skies from the east. "Oh, Melissa," I said aloud, hoping that somehow the words would reach her, "I know this is all my fault. But don't worry anymore. I'm on my way to set the record straight. Once and for all."

  Later, as I sat on the couch watching the second hand rotate around the clock in front of me, it suddenly dawned on me that I had no way of getting out to Wickerman's. My last rent-a-car was a burned-up mess sitting in the back lot of Vern's Wreckage and Salvage Yard out on Highway O. I hadn't even thought about going back to the airport for another one. Though, they probably wouldn't loan me a car anyway, after my recent track record with them. For a weapon I would just have to use one of Julie's sharper kitchen knives. Even though I was only three weeks away from having my cast removed, there was no way I could subdue Beliwitz without some sort of a weapon. A gun would be better, of course, but I didn't know where to get one on such short notice. A knife would have to suffice. But, how was I going to get out there? To walk that distance would take me the better part of an hour, and that was if I ran part of the way. Well, I thought with a wry smile, I would just have to borrow Sly's car for the evening, that's all. He wouldn't mind, not after he found out I saved Melissa.

  I couldn't remember Sly putting his car keys down anywhere after he picked me up from the Country Bar and Grill, so they still had to be in his pants pockets--or somewhere in Julie’s bedroom. And that would mean going in there and getting them. I'd give Sly and Julie another hour to fall deeply asleep before going in.

  As timed droned on, I became more and more nervous, as the reality of what I was about to do began to set in. Yet, I felt somehow as if the night were already over, and I was now only rehashing it in my mind. When thoughts of chickening out and calling the police entered my plans, I thought about Melissa and how I had failed her, and how my own grandmother and Tabitha had died because of me.

  At eleven o'clock I entered Julie's bedroom. Sly and she were in each other's arms under the blankets, fast asleep, breathing evenly. Sly's pants lay on the floor on his side of the bed. The drapes were open on the window, and enough moonlight shone through for me to see the entire layout of the room. No keys were visible on either of the dressers, so they would most likely be in his pants. I tiptoed into the room, knowing if I got caught, I would have no valid excuse for being in there. Sly was facing away from me when I picked up his pants and searched the front pockets. I felt the keys and slowly pulled them out. They clinked quietly together when they reached the open air, as if wanting t
o warn Sly that they were being taken.

  Sly turned around casually in bed, now facing right where I stood, and opened his right eye. I forced a smile. He responded by opening his other eye and propping himself up on his elbow. "Stephen?" he whispered.

  I waved, still smiling as best as I could.

  "What the hell are you doing in here?"

  I put my index finger to my lips. "Shhh," I said. "You'll wake Julie."

  I still held the keys in my hand, and Sly noticed them glinting in the dull moonlight. "Where you going, Stephen?"

  "Out for a bite to eat," I replied. "I didn't want to wake you, and I didn't think you'd mind."

  He looked up at me a few seconds without saying anything. "Go back into the living room," he said at length, "and wait for me."

  I slipped his keys into my pocket and backed out of the room.

  "Just a minute," Sly said as I reached the door. "Give me back my keys. I don't want you sneaking off."

  Indignantly, I dug them back out of my pocket and handed them to him. "Satisfied?" Already the night was off to an inauspicious start.

  I sat on the couch in the living room and waited. Sly came downstairs a couple of minutes later, fully dressed and hair combed neatly. He threw his keys onto my lap.

  "All right," he said, standing above me. "Let's go."

  I calmly scratched my chin, which hadn't been shaved since the beginning of the week, and sighed. "No need for you to come with me," I said. Enough people had died because of their association with me. "Anyway, you don't want Julie waking up and finding you missing. She'll fall apart after everything she's been though."

  "Julie will survive." He reached down and grabbed my good hand. "Now let's go." He pulled me to my feet with a jerk. "I want to see where you're sneaking off to myself. I think you know something and you don't want to get us involved. But I'm not giving you a choice."

  "Maybe I could use your help," I said, and believing it. Even if my arm was almost completely healed, it would still be a hindrance. A hindrance that could make a notable difference. "It's just that anyone who gets too close to me ends up six feet underground with a tombstone balanced over her head.”