Come Get Me (18 page)

“So,” Jim said now that he was a little more
familiar with who he was talking to, “what’s really going on back
there?” When Johnny didn’t answer right away he quickly added,
“Pete lives back there from what I’m told and I’m a little worried
about him.”

“I’m not supposed to tell anyone,” Johnny
answered after a few seconds.

“Come on Johnny,” Jim pushed. “This is Jim
you’re talking to not some guy off the street. You can tell
me.”

“I really don’t think I should,” Johnny
answered then paused, “but, I, uh, guess it would be ok as long as
you don’t tell the sheriff.” After getting Jim’s promise he
continued. “I’m pretty sure something bad happened,” Johnny said
looking over Jim’s shoulder to make sure no one else could hear
them. “A little while ago we got a call from Rob over the radio
saying he was coming out to check on Pete. He said Pete was out
burning his fires again and he wanted to make sure everything was
ok. Nobody thought anything of it until about an hour had passed
and we hadn’t heard anything form him. Then suddenly the radio in
the office seemed like it came to life. At first there was nobody
on it but you could tell that the mike was keyed.” He paused for a
second to run a hand over his face. He looked like he was about to
cry before he got control of himself and continued. “Then we heard
this horrible noise coming over the speaker. At first we didn’t
know what it was. It sounded like static but after a few seconds we
realized it was a scream. It was awful. We didn’t know what to do
but we were pretty sure we knew who it was. The sheriff was out
driving around so he got here first to check things out. When he
got here he called and told me to come down here and secure the
entrance to Pete’s road and not to let anyone down. I was on the
other side of town doing a patrol over there and heard all the
screaming over my radio. I told the sheriff I’d be right over and
this is where I’ve been since. He hasn’t come up and told me
nothing. Not even a peep on the radio or anything. I don’t know
what’s going on.” He stopped and took a shaky breath.

Jim was about to bolt down the road when the
radio in the car shouted Johnny’s name. Wanting to run and find out
what was going on but also not wanting to miss what might be said
he forced himself to stay. Johnny climbed in the car and shut the
door so Jim couldn’t hear. After a few minutes he put the radio
down and got back out looking a few shades whiter than when he got
in.

“The sheriff just said that the state police
and the coroner would be here soon,” Johnny said as he emerged from
the car. “He also said to make sure I didn’t tell anyone anything I
wasn’t supposed to.”

“But what about Rob?” Jim asked.

“I asked if he was ok but he just ignored me
and told me to do my job and to not ask so many questions. He said
don’t let anyone but the police and coroner in.”

“So he didn’t say anything?”

“Now listen Jim, I’m not the smartest person
in the world but I know when something isn’t right. You and I both
know what a coroner is for right?”

Jim hoped Johnny hadn’t been expecting an
answer. If he had he would just have to go on hoping. Without
staying to hear all of Johnny’s words Jim darted around the back
side of the car before Johnny had a chance to do more than watch
him disappear into the night.

Speeding through the dark Jim could make out
the sheriff’s car down the road only because of the flashing lights
on to p of it. Focusing on them he poured every last bit of energy
he had into making it to them as fast as his poor feet could carry
him. Before a few seconds ago he would’ve told anyone he couldn’t
another step if his life depended on it but knowing something had
happened to Rob had galvanized him into action. Johnny must’ve
called ahead because by the time Jim arrived out of breath the
sheriff was standing in the road, arms crossed over his ample
belly, waiting for him.

Sheriff James Harden was a fifty something,
slightly over weight gorilla of a man who was only sheriff because
nobody in town had ever been brave enough to mess with him.
Politically or personally. Nobody except for Jim and his friends.
Harden had been sheriff for as long as Jim could remember and had
been just another reason Jim had had for leaving. The place being a
small town, Jim and the sheriff had known each other a lot better
than either would’ve preferred. Jim’s group had quite a few of
close calls with the sheriff back in the day. It was just dumb luck
that they’d never been caught doing some of the things they’d done
with a big emphasis on the dumb part. The sheriff suspected a lot
but was never able to prove anything. Form the look on the man’s
face they were about to have another run in Jim wished he could
avoid.

“Now what the hell do you want?” The Sheriff
demanded angrily before Jim even had a chance to catch his
breath.

“What’s going on?” Jim asked ignoring the
question. “Where’s Rob? Is he alright?”

“You aren’t supposed to be down here boy.
Didn’t you see the roadblock up there?” He shot back ignoring Jim’s
question in turn. “I should lock your sorry ass up right here and
now for trespassing.”

“You can do that after you tell me about
Rob,” Jim answered quickly. “C’mon” he pleaded, “I’m his friend.
Tell me what happened to him, then you can throw me in jail all you
want.”

“Oh shit!” the man answered as if he’d just
remembered he left the iron on at home. “Rob said you were back for
a visit. I’d damn near forgot, what with all this shit going on.”
He paused trying to decide. “Damn,” he began again as he took of
his hat and ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t know how to put
this so I’ll just come right out and say it but I don’t want you
freaking out of me or anything. You do that and I’ll take your ass
down faster than you can spit. You hear me? I have enough to handle
as it is.” After making sure he was understood he said two words.
“Rob’s dead.”

Jim knew to expect something like this but
actually hearing it felt like a slap in the face. There’d been a
bad feeling rolling around in the pit of his stomach from the first
moment he’d heard the sirens. This was just the perfect ending to a
perfect evening.

“I’m sorry to tell you like that but there it
is. There’s no reason to beat around the bush when it comes to
things like this,” the sheriff explained. “Rob came out here to
check on your friend freak boy out yonder but we didn’t hear back
for him for a while. Some of us were starting to get worried.” He
said this last part like he hadn’t been one of the ones getting
worried and Jim almost slapped him. Holding himself back he stood
and listened to the rest of the sheriff’s story. “After a while
some weird shit came over the radio. Like screaming or something so
I came out to check on things. Didn’t know what to expect. The
freak could’ve finally went of the deep end and decided to kill his
buddy or something for all I knew. Anyways, when I roll up his car
lights were flashing, the door light was pointing at the woods and
he was lying on the ground in front of it all cut up.” He stopped
talking for a few seconds to make sure Jim wasn’t about losing it
before continuing. “It’s a sight you sure don’t want to take to the
grave with you if you can help it. Real messy whoever or whatever
did it. I shouldn’t tell you this but you being his friend and all
you might know if someone, you know, maybe had it out for him or
something. If not, it sure does look like it. In any case whatever
it was seems to have gone at him with an ax or something, maybe
even a hatchet. Soon as the Smokies get out here I’m going to see
if I can go find anything useful out from freakboy.”

Jim couldn’t bring himself to say anything.
He was too afraid that if he did he’d end up in jail. How could
something like this happen? This wasn’t a big city or something
where things like this were commonplace. This was a small town.
Things like this just didn’t happen here.

The town he grew up in was a quiet place. It
was a place where people didn’t need to lock their doors at night.
It wasn’t this place where murders were committed almost on a daily
basis. This town he was in was like some twisted version of the one
he’d grown up in. He just couldn’t understand what was going on.
The silly theory of Grandma’s about some mythological beast killing
everyone was starting to look better and better. At least then
there would be someone to blame everything on. Right now there was
nothing. No one to blame or take his anger out on. Just his dead
friends.

Rob was dead. He would never see him again
and Pete had been just down the road when it happened and did
nothing to help. Someone had gone after Rob with an axe and hacked
him to death not a five minute walk from his friend’s house and now
he was dead. First Tommy and now Rob. Both were dead and there was
nobody to blame. The two people who’d been his life long friends,
the two people who’d been like brothers to him and the two people
who were now dead at the hands of some maniac, mythical creature or
God only knew what. He didn’t know which was more unbelievable. His
friends being dead or how it’d happened.

It seemed like he’d just found Rob again
after being away so long and now he was dead. Jim slowly looked
down the road and saw the fires burning around Pete’s house. He
could see Pete walking from one miniature inferno to another. Back
and forth making sure they burned bright to keep his personal
demons at bay.

Jim looked blankly at the sheriff and without
any words to him turned and started towards Pete’s house. He needed
to find out what had gone so terribly wrong with his last remaining
friend that he would standby and let someone who’d been like a
brother to him be killed.

8

Jim approached the house with a creeping
sensation he’d now become familiar with. He was being watched.
Praying nothing would be following him in the dark like had
happened before he stopped his headlong rush and peered back at the
sheriff hoping it was just him giving Jim the uneasy feeling. No
such luck. Unfortunately the sheriff had turned away from him to
watch two state police cars pull up at the roadblock.

Not happy in the least, Jim looked around. He
saw nothing but inky blackness. The woods, for their part, remained
eerily quiet offering him no help in finding the reason for his
unease. If anything they made it worse. He felt that at any minute
one of the branches were going to reach out, grab him and rip his
head off. At least that’s what would happen if this had been a
movie.

Eyes becoming slightly more adjusted to the
dark, Jim found the exact spot where he’d decided to stop was
exactly where the road had decided to give up its fight against
nature. He could see cracked and rutted pavement with bit of grass
forcing its way to the surface, roots of numerous plants
criss-crossing the road and nothing but trees reaching for him in
all directions. Up, down, left and right. Nothing but the
impenetrable, leafy darkness. The forest hadn’t just been making
tiny forays into the world of men it had made an all out assault.
It was more than obvious this road wasn’t traveled much by anyone
other than Pete.

The one bright and somewhat welcoming spot in
all the gloom were the blazing fires around Pete’s house. They lit
up the night like a beacon. The lighting thrown off from the fires
lit the front windows, making the house appear to be an oversized
jack-o-lantern grinning at him in sinister welcome. Jim hurried
towards the supposed safety the light offered but as he approached
he began to wonder if it was safety or something else the house was
offering.

Pete must’ve sensed someone coming up the
road. He’d stopped his mindless walking from fire to fire and was
staring out into the darkness in the exact direction of Jims’
approach. Jim, not knowing what else to do, slowly emerged from the
shadows. He didn’t know what reaction he expected but seeing Pete
suddenly racing towards him with two burning sticks in his hand
definitely hadn’t been one of them. Pete raced at him swinging the
brands for all he was worth and shouting like a madman, which Jim
was quite sure he was at the moment, at the top of his lungs. Jim
was quite sure he was going to die any minute.

Pete was waving fiery arcs all over the
place, at times coming close enough to hitting himself that Jim
thought he was about to see another friend die. His friend looked
like he would most likely set himself on fire long before he ever
reached Jim. Wanting to avoid either scenario Jim hastily stepped
back and called out to Pete hoping he could snap his friend out of
whatever demented nightmare he might be caught in.

“Pete!” he yelled. “Calm down! It’s me Jim!
Stop waving those damn things around for a minute and think!” He
was afraid Pete might be so far gone that he wouldn’t recognize
him. Jim watched as he got closer and closer. It didn’t appear Pete
was going to stop until he was almost within attacking range.
Almost tripping over his own feet Pete skidded to an abrupt stop
roughly ten feet from Jim. Deep throaty breathing burst heavily
from his direction obviously caused by his short run.

“Jim?” whined a hesitant voice after a few
tense seconds, “Is that really you?” As he spoke Jim saw the
branches lower slightly. That was a good sign. Maybe he wasn’t
going to die. The pain and sorrow in Pete’s voice cut Jim to his
very being. If it hadn’t been for the threat of imminent attack he
would’ve rushed over the few remaining feet to his friend and
hugged him like the brother he was. Then he saw the torches again
and thought he’d better wait until he was sure Pete wasn’t going to
brain him.