314 Book 3 (Widowsfield Trilogy) (44 page)

“Alma, where’s the keychain I gave you?” asked Paul while still staring at the floorboards.

“Here,” said Alma as she lifted her left hand.

Paul looked up and saw that she was holding the keychain in one hand and a butcher knife in the other. “Okay, then drop the knife. You don’t need it. Drop the knife and just concentrate on the keychain.”

“What are you trying to do?” asked The Skeleton Man as he took a step forward. “Just leave. She doesn’t want you here.”

“Please put down the knife,” said Paul as he backed away another step. The Skeleton Man drew nearer, and he was growing larger with each step. The cords had now begun to cover his entire frame, and were weaving between his bones to craft a mockery of a human being.

“The daddies have to die,” said The Skeleton Man.

Alma watched The Skeleton Man as he approached Paul, and despite how much she wanted to punish her father for what he’d done, she wanted to save Paul more. She loved him, and so she dropped the knife.

As the butcher knife hit the floor, a woman’s arm grew forth from the spot where Terry had been murdered. Paul saw the ghost of Michael’s mistress rise from the floorboards and reach out to try and grab Ben.

The Skeleton Man reeled back and avoided the ghost’s grasp. He backed into Alma, and she held him steady as the ghost of Terry continued to try and crawl free.

“We have to run,” said The Skeleton Man, although his voice sounded more like Ben’s now. “We have to get away.”

Alma looked at Paul as she gripped the keychain. She understood what she had to do.

“No, Ben,” said Alma. “It’s over.”

The Skeleton Man turned on her and yelled in fury. The walls shook and began to crumble, revealing the wires within. Alma pushed at The Skeleton Man, but the cords shot out from the walls and tied themselves to their demon, refusing to let him fall into the grip of the red-haired woman.

Paul rushed over to help. He wrapped his arm around The Skeleton Man’s neck and felt the twisting cords pinching the flesh on his arm as he pulled backward. The cords snapped free as The Skeleton Man cried out in anger and fear. One by one, the cords seemed to abandon Ben. They broke away from The Skeleton Man and shrank back into the deteriorating walls, making it easier to drag the creature closer to Terry.

“Alma, no,” pleaded Ben’s voice as they pulled the creature down to the floor.

Terry’s arms reached out and gripped The Skeleton Man. She pulled him down with her, and golden light burned in the space where the carpet had been cut. Terry continued to drag him down until the only thing sitting above the pool of gold was The Skeleton Man’s chattering jaw. Then Terry’s hand reached up and covered his mouth before dragging him down, silencing The Skeleton Man for good.

There was no peace after Ben vanished beneath the floor. As soon as he was gone, Michael screamed out in pain from the bathroom. They looked up to see that he was being attacked by the wires that were breaking forth from the walls around them. His skin was being lacerated, and the weapons of The Watcher were snaking into the wounds.

“Come on,” said Paul as he took Alma’s hand. They ran to the hall and slammed the door shut behind them. It sounded like the lid of a coffin, heavy and final.

Widowsfield

March 14
th
, 2012

Alma woke up, cold and shivering on the kitchen floor of the house on Sycamore. Nothing made sense to her anymore, and she gazed up at what looked like fog floating near the ceiling. Her heart sank as she feared that she was still stuck within The Watcher’s fog; lost somewhere in his nightmare.

Then she smelled the smoke.

“Fire,” said Alma with a groggy croak as she sat up. She coughed and then yelled louder, “Fire!”

Paul was beside her, and she pushed at his arm to wake him. She was beginning to panic as she saw what was happening, and realized that she might not be able to wake Paul up. She could see
Jacker and Rachel lying nearby, but Stephen was missing.

Paul groaned and muttered, “Let me sleep.”

Alma slapped him hard on the cheek and yelled, “Get up.”

“Jesus, Alma,” said Paul as he opened his eyes. At first, he seemed annoyed with her, but then he quickly realized what was going on.

“Help me get Jacker and Rachel up,” said Alma before the smoke caused her to begin coughing.

Paul wasn’t concerned with being gentle. He slapped
Jacker much harder than Alma had hit him, and Jacker yelled out in protest, “What the fuck?”

“Get your ass up,” said Paul. “The house is burning.”

Alma was able to get Rachel up without striking her, and she guided her to the door as Paul and Jacker followed. She tried to open the door, but then discovered it wouldn’t budge.

“There’s something blocking the door,” said Alma.

“Let’s go through the window,” said Rachel.

“Hold up,” said
Jacker as he moved the others out of the way. “This is my specialty.”

Jacker
charged the door and bashed his shoulder into it hard enough to crack the threshold and send the door swinging wide. He fell hard to his side outside and the others quickly followed behind. Rachel helped Jacker to his feet as Paul inspected what had sealed them in.

“Someone nailed boards over the door,” said Paul.

“Where’s Stephen?” asked Rachel.

“He wasn’t in there,” said Alma as she backed away from the house. She saw that the roof was on fire. It looked like whoever had tried to kill them had set the fire outside, probably after boarding up the door. The far side of the house was engulfed, as was part of the yard that separated Terry’s cabin from her neighbor. As Alma watched, part of the roof collapsed over where Terry’s bedroom had been. The windows shattered and a spout of flame erupted forth as the house began to collapse.

“Holy shit,” said Jacker as they all moved out towards the street.

“Look over there,” said Rachel as she pointed in the direction of the school. They all looked and saw that there was a fire there as well. It seemed that several buildings in
Widowsfield had erupted in flames.

“Come on,” said
Jacker. “The van’s parked up the street. Let’s get the fuck out of here once and for all.”

They ran up the street, but
Jacker slowed down and finally stopped. He was patting his pockets as if searching for something before he cursed.

“What’s wrong?” asked Rachel.

“My keys are gone. I must’ve left them in the cabin.”

“Well, fuck it,” said Rachel. “There’s no going back now.” They all looked down the hill at the raging fire that was consuming
Widowsfield.

“I might be able to jump the van,” said Paul.

Jacker groaned in disapproval, but they didn’t have any other option. They knew that if the keys were in the cabin that they would never be able to get them.

Shortly after, as they made their way up the street,
Jacker stopped and cursed again.

“What’s wrong now?” asked Paul.

“This is where we parked,” said Jacker as he spun in a circle. “That mother fucker.”

“What?” asked
Alma.

“Stephen stole my van, that’s what. That’s why my keys aren’t in my damn pocket, because that piece of shit stole them off me and took off.”

“Where’s the security van? Can we take that?” asked Alma.

Jacker
pointed in the direction of the burning town. “It’s back at the field where we first came in. I don’t think we can get there from here without going through the fires.”

“Great,” said Rachel. “What the hell are we supposed to do now?”

“Keep walking,” said Alma. “That’s what. We’re going to keep walking until we get out of this town, and I’m never looking back.”

They all agreed. Each of them was eager to leave
Widowsfield behind for good.

Sycamore Street proved to be an arduous walk. It was steep, and didn’t level out until it t-boned at the road that curved a path around the Jackson Reservoir. If they turned right, they would end up headed back down into the town they were escaping, and if they turned left they would make their way up to the rest stop where Amanda Harper had driven off the cliff.

They turned left, and Alma mentioned that they could rest at the scenic overlook that peered down on the hydroelectric dam. She felt like it would be an appropriate place to ruminate on what they’d been through, and Jacker was panting hard enough that they were all concerned he might pass out if they didn’t rest soon.

Night was giving itself slowly over to dawn, and the emerging light revealed that the area was beset by more than just smoke. Heavy, cold fog blanketed the area, masking the woods that surrounded them.

Alma led them to the parking lot of the scenic overlook and Jacker sat heavily upon a rock near the entrance. He panted and scratched at his shaggy hair. Rachel stayed beside him, and only glanced back at Widowsfield once as she toyed with the wedding ring she was still wearing, certainly wondering if she should just take it off for good.

Paul walked with Alma as she crossed the lot. They approached the broken, rusted railing where Alma’s mother had driven their car off the cliff in an attempt to murder her daughter. She looked down, but the fog was too thick to see the water below. Alma walked to the edge and sat down with her legs dangling over the side. Paul sat beside her and held her hand.

“It’s all over,” said Alma. “I can’t believe it’s finally over.”

“Are you okay?” asked Paul.

Alma smiled and leaned over to peck him on the cheek. “Better now that I’m with you.”

Paul put his arm around Alma’s shoulder and pulled her close. Together, they watched the bloom of sunrise burn away the fog.

THE END

And so ends the Widowsfield trilogy, with the bloom of sunrise burning away the fog.

In the Author’s Notes of my books, I usually like to look back and reflect on the book’s plot, and discuss some of the themes and hidden information that I tried to weave into it. However, this time I’m going to shut my mouth and let the story do that work for me. In this particular book, I feel like any puzzlement someone might have after finishing the final page is part of the fun, and I don’t want to steal that away.

I tried hard to make sure that the most pertinent questions about the Widowsfield mystery were answered, and any new question that might be burning their way through the fog in the reader’s head once the book is over can be answered within the text of the book itself. I’m being super vague here on purpose, because putting the puzzle pieces together about Widowsfield was part of the fun.

My hope is that some readers walk away from this book pleased, but then pause a few days later and say, “Wait a minute!”
If that happens, and a reader starts tearing through the book a second time, picking up on clues that they didn’t see the first time, then I’ll feel like the book was a resounding success.

The original inspiration for the 314 series came from reading urban myths about The Philadelphia Experiment. The
myths about the green fog and bodies fused to the walls was just too rich a subject not to tinker with. Take all those old stories about the USS Eldridge however you want, but I tried to incorporate a lot of true events and figures into this book. Major Leslie Groves (later on he became a general) was a real person, and headed up the Manhattan Project with Oppenheimer. The USS Eldridge was really sold to Greece and turned into the Leon, and it actually did get scrapped in 1996, but not before disappearing mysteriously for a little while. There are also areas where it would appear from above that a ship had been built on dry land for some unexplainable reason. And Einstein’s birthday is really March 14
th
. Sticking these little nuggets of truth into a work of fiction helps to make it all feel so much more intense and real, at least to me.

After finishing this trilogy, I’m going to be working on the final book in the Deadlocked series, so this time in my life has suddenly become dramatically transitional. To wave goodbye to Alma and Paul, and then to have to go and wave goodbye to the characters of Deadlocked, is at times depressing, but oddly joyous. With the 314 trilogy, I’m extremely happy with the ending. It stays true to the story, and can be fodder for discussion for people for a long time. That’s exactly what I want, because these books have always been a puzzle for the reader to try and decipher.

Once I close the book on the final Deadlocked, I’m going to be continuing with the Bathory series, but there’s a good chance that I’ll be delving into something else as well, and starting a whole new world to rip into. Hopefully the 314 series has been a good enough read that you’ll follow along with me on the next journeys, to wherever horrific places it takes us.

Please come in visit me at
arwisebooks.com, and on the ARWise fan page on Facebook. I also try my best to respond to everyone that emails me over at [email protected], although I have to warn you, there are certain answers to puzzles in the 314 series that I don’t want to divulge to anyone because it might take the fun out of debates people have.