Diary of the Gone (6 page)

Yet my heart thumped in my chest.
Sitting on the exact spot where the hand had lain in the dream
freaked me out.

I climbed down the windowsill, my legs
shaky.

What are those
symbols on my hands?
I
thought
. And the girl. How come she knows
my name?

“
I’m afraid I’m missing
something. Who are you? And where do you want me to go with you?”
Then I asked my empty room a question that sent shivers down my
spine. “And what is it that I set you free from?”

I knew what I had to do. It was time
to get out of here and go to the Swamps to find Nathan.

Chapter 6

Entry #10

June 2

I often wonder if I’ll
ever stumble across a Shadow with myself dying. And what will I do
if that happens. Will I be given a chance to escape death, or will
I die the same instant my Shadow creeps over me?

Before setting off for the Swamps, I
dropped in at the Underground. Located in the wood, it was a cellar
from a long demolished house that Nathan had found about a year
ago. It was concealed from view by the foliage and branches of
nearby trees, so that no one unwelcome would ever find this
place.

I’d still had hopes of Nate being
there. My heart picked up its pace, the closer I got to the
Underground, but when I climbed down the rotten steps with a
torchlight clamped in my hand, I found the place empty and
uninviting.

Not to waste time, I left for the
Swamps, trudging through the wood within a hundred-meter distance
from the edge of the forest, not to attract anyone’s attention, but
also not to get too deep in.

The Swamps took up a
large part of a dense forest north of Olden Cross. Few people ever
wandered there, as nothing of interest lay in this boggy land. Old
townsfolk said it used to be a small swamp at first. Then it grew
bit by bit, expanding towards our town with each year, like a
curse. Others added an edge to the story, saying in hushed voices
the Swamps grew larger to punish its people for their sins.
Oh, please, how could anyone believe this
crap?

Still I couldn’t help the hairs on the
back of my neck from standing when I got farther into the wood. I
passed by a few signs tucked into the soft ground, warning of
danger, but no fence prevented me from going beyond.

I knew I was safe for as long as I
didn’t come across the Shadow with myself dying. Luckily that had
never happened before.

Nevertheless, I picked up a stick to
probe the mossy ground before taking another step. As I set my foot
onto the spongy surface, it sunk up to the ankle, and I had to be
cautious not to get stuck.

I must be insane to
be walking here on my own,
I thought. Yet
I knew that if I’d stayed at home I would feel like I’d betrayed
Nate.

I’d been wandering for an hour getting
deeper into the forest, closer to the place where Nathan had
brought me that last time. It took me much longer to get there this
time, probably because today I was overcautious, with no one to
help me if needed.

Light seeped through the grid of tree
branches as I hopped from one tussock to another. I prayed I would
find my way back from this no-man’s land. Amid the everlasting
Swamp there were small safety islands that served as stepping
stones where I could catch my breath and think about where to go
next.

I left another of those islands for
the bog, finally recognizing the spot that Nathan had shown me.
Probing the moss with the stick, I got closer.

A twig snapped behind my back, and my
muscles stiffened. I stopped breathing, feeling someone’s eyes on
me. Following my every move. I turned around, but there seemed to
be no one there. What if it was Mrs. Palmer again? Nate had said
she appeared as if out of thin air.

Not to let them know I was aware of
their presence, I decided to keep going. The feeling of someone
watching me lingered like an abscessed tooth, gnawing at my sense
of security. After hopping on another safe island I chanced another
look back, but still didn’t spot anyone.

“
Let’s check it and then
get the hell out of here,” I murmured, searching the place
around.

I found the trail that Nathan had
shown to me the other day. It was still there, although the blood
had faded to a lifeless dark brown hue. I followed it with more
confident strides towards the tree, and faced the place where the
animal was supposed to be. But it wasn’t there.

The carcass was gone, only a small
pool of blood smearing the mossy ground where it used to
be.

I didn’t like where this was
going.

I inspected the ground around me,
searching for clues. I stepped towards the place where I’d seen the
boy, and came across another trail. My insides wobbled with
fear.

There was no blood there, but the
ground was loose like someone had clawed at it with their
fingers.

“
What the hell?” I
muttered, my heart thumping in my chest.

It dragged along the ground, the
fallen leaves raked carelessly, as if someone pulled something
heavy into the depths of the forest.

The ground damp under my feet, water
slurping as I made cautious steps. The farther I was going, the
more pronounced were the footsteps along the way, large and deep.
My back was studded with cold perspiration.

My peripheral vision caught something
move to the right of me. A tall, dark shape. I swiveled my head in
its direction, but it had hidden behind a tree.

So I was right about
not being here alone,
I
thought.

I decided to keep
moving along the trail. A few seconds later I found it. The
thing
they’d been
dragging. A body. Or better say, a leg sticking out of the ground.
Fear rippled through my frame.

I really wanted to turn back home, but
something rooted me to the spot. Hidden partly by the foliage, a
hand stuck out of the ground, a circle and a triangle cut into the
flesh. Whoever buried the body did a bad job. The loose soil was
barely concealed by fallen leaves.

This hand belonged to the boy I’d seen
here. To Greg Thornby. I didn’t know how, but I was sure it was the
same hand that pressed against the glass at school. Not that it
really mattered.

There was no question of me touching
the body. Bile filled my throat at the sight, and I backed away,
consumed by fear. I took one step back, then another.

Black clouds blotted out the sun, and
everything blurred to an even more intense gray. I only remembered
bits of what happened next. I rushed back, tripping, slipping. I
didn’t care that my ankle sent sparks of fiery pain up my leg. My
feet got stuck in the quagmire. I whimpered and hyperventilated,
struggling through the fallen trees. Tears trickled down my cheeks
and I rubbed them away in shame.

All the way back, I was thinking of
what if whoever was in the woods would run after me. I listened
intently to any sounds apart from my footfall, but heard
none.

My brain worked frantically. Where
should I go? Home? Mom wouldn’t be there. Bev wouldn’t help me
either. She was at school. I needed someone, a grown-up, to help me
get Greg out of the Swamp.

I reached the edge of the forest. Home
was not far away. Scratched at my elbow and ankles, sweaty from the
run, I hobbled to the back porch of my house. Shelter.

I swung the door
open, kicked off my boots and headed for the living room where the
phone was.
I’ll call Mom,
I nodded to myself.

When I entered the living room, I
skidded to an abrupt halt. Mom was sitting at the table. It felt as
if I’d entered this morning’s memory.

“
Mom?” I asked, surprised.
For a moment I forgot that it was her I needed to find. “What are
you doing here?”

“
Where have you been?” She
ignored my question and scanned my muddy clothes. “I called you an
hour ago and you weren’t here. Can you imagine how worried I was,
Callum?” She never called me Callum. I began to feel uncomfortable,
but this was not the time.

“
Mom, you need
to—”

“
No, enough. Now listen to
me.” She stood up, her eyes twinkling with tears. “Bev told me that
you started leaving home at night again. If I ever find out you
snuck out one more time, you’ll be grounded till the end
of—”

“
I found him,” I
interrupted her, not really interested in what she was
saying.

“
Wh-what?” She looked at
me, confused by my words. “Who did you find?” Then her mouth formed
a little “o”.

“
Nathan?” she breathed
out.

“
No. Greg Thornby,” I
mustered to utter the name.

She sat down on the chair, shaking her
head, her eyes crazed. “Greg Thornby? Where?”

“
At the Swamps,” I said,
then lowered my eyes.

“
How do you know it was
him? We have never met that boy.”

“
I just know, Mom. It’s
him.”

She heaved a deep sigh. I was still
panting from my run home.

“
How did you find him?”
Mom asked, silent tears trickling down her flushed
cheeks.

“
I— was just—” Words
failed me. I couldn’t admit to walking alone out there in the
Swamps.

Mom didn’t press me for the answer.
She came over and gave me a hug, and in the comfort of her arms I
relaxed. There was no judgment in that hug, nothing but love and
warmth, and a desire to help me get through my pain.

“
We need to call the
police,” she whispered after a long period of silence.

“
And that boy’s parents,”
I said and sighed.

Then came another blurry mess for me.
Policemen came, asked questions and then left. Mr. and Mrs. Thornby
arrived later, asking more questions, although they were pretty
much the same as the policemen had asked. I murmured something in
response. Then they comforted me, their faces etched in my mind.
Then Nathan’s parents came. Two gaunt lifeless faces, with no
emotion except anguish chiseled into them.

They stopped asking questions
afterwards, letting me think over what had happened to me in the
past few days.

“
We need to search the
area, so the more men are going with us, the better,” someone said
nearby.

I raised my eyes and saw a man in
uniform talking to a group of policemen and men of our town. From
his words I realized they were not going to take me and I knew
they’d never find the body without me.

“
I’m going with you,” I
said, my voice feeble and croaky. They kept talking without taking
any notice of me, so I said a bit louder, “I’m going with
you.”

The broad-shouldered policeman
swiveled his head my way, and I recognized Chief Coleman in him. He
turned to his subordinates and said, “I’ll be back with you soon.
Wait for me outside.”

He came up to me, crouched so that our
eyes were level. The odor of nicotine still accompanied him like a
twin brother.

“
I know where he is. I can
help you,” I said.

“
You need to rest,
Callum,” he said. “It’s not safe out there at such an
hour.”

“
You don’t understand.” I
clenched my fists. “You won’t find him without me.”

“
I have the best people
here. They know the Swamps well. You just have to tell us which
direction to take, and we’ll search the perimeter.”

I didn’t listen to him. Shoving the
blanket off, I stood up and said, “I’ll be ready in a
minute.”

Mom entered the room, worry lining her
forehead. Chief Coleman stood up and came over to her, while I
scurried past them to my room to find the flashlight that I used
when making notes in my diary.

The diary. That’s when I remembered
it. Should I write about Greg then, so that he wouldn’t show up in
my nightmares? I was short of time. What if they leave without me?
I grabbed the flashlight out of the top drawer and made a mental
note to return to my writing later. I leapt like a gazelle down the
stairs; the chief was still there waiting for me.

“
Be careful, Callie,” Mom
said, her eyes glistening with tears.

“
We’ll take care of him,
Mrs. Blackwell,” the chief said with a confident nod.

Mom stroked my back and let me
go.

As we exited I saw the chief had
brought an impressive team of scene techs with him. Some of them
had portable lights while others carried flashlights and kits. Two
of them had spades, their sight making me dizzy. One more held a
stretcher. All of them had grim expressions of furrowed brows and
eyes filmed over with inevitability.

By the time we’d reached the forest,
it started drizzling, moisture clinging to my face. We walked in
silence without switching on the lights, even though the darkness
was so thick we probed our way with caution. Occasionally, I
tripped over a stone or a root.