Hazy View: Souls of the Vanished (25 page)

“
Are you ready to go?”
Andrew asked as he spotted Davis platting through desks and
chairs.

“
Where are we
going?”

“
I need to collect my
vehicle from Martin’s old house.” Andrew insisted heading for the
door.

“
Sure.”

Andrew and Davis left the office and
drove out towards the lake.

“
What did the doctor
say?”

“
He didn’t want to discuss
much with me, except that Martin suffered a trauma and blocked the
murders out of his mind.”

“
So he can really not
remember what happened.” Andrew remarked.

“
Apparently so I thought
he was putting on a charade to lessen his sentence.”

“
So did I, well it would
appear that we’re still without motive. I think we should have
enough time to go and see that drunken man that was accusing me of
cheating on Janet. Maybe he could clear this up for us.” Andrew
suggested.

“
He lives on the other
side of town.”

Andrew fell silent then said. “Before
I go there I would like to get my vehicle from Helen’s house. I
think that is the best.”

“
Why don’t you do it
now?”

“
I want Martin to show me
where he dumped the bodies and I’d need my vehicle by
then.”

“
Do you think this thing
will be over soon, the festival is in three days and the residence
would be happy if the lake’s open?” Davis wondered.

“
I’m aware of that. I hope
that we can end this tonight and find Janet and Christopher.
Hopefully thing’s will go back to normal by morning.”

Andrew turned into the gravel driveway
at Helen’s house. From a distance he saw that she wasn’t home.
Maybe she rested because all was quiet and the doors and windows
closed. Maybe she went into town or just making the best of her
time alone. On second thought she has most properly gone to town as
her vehicle was nowhere in sight.

Andrew had collected the keys from Tom
earlier so he didn’t need to get into the house. He just parked
behind his vehicle and jumps out. “Wait for me. I’ll follow you to
the guy’s house.” Andrew instructed and inspected his vehicle
through the closed windows before unlocking the cab.

There was an overwhelming smell of
chemicals, most likely what the forensics technician used. In the
rear of the vehicle it looked like the carpet’s vacuumed and
cleaned. The most overwhelming was the strong chemical smell that
would take days to disappear. The vehicle baked in the sun for a
couple of days and this led to the strong smell. Besides the smell
there’s trapped heat inside the vehicle. The cold wind and rain now
falling did little against the rush of heat streaming out of the
cab as Andrew opened the door. It forced him backwards a few steps
before he got in. He started the ignition and pulled out of the
parking area. The grass flattened by the tires where it
stood.

Davis had already turned his vehicle
and the two drove off the property and back onto the main road
leading back to town.

*~*~*

*VI*

Martin sat in his holding cell alone,
broken and humiliated. His hand started to shake his head was
pounding. He tried to sleep but failed. He stood up and called the
officer who sat at the desk all morning. Clearly he wasn’t there.
He returned and now he was sitting on the small single stretcher
bed with his head buried in his hands. His head ached too much for
him to keep it up unsupported. His eyes were burning from the lack
of sleep he now felt again. He felt alone even the bright sunlight
had faded on him. Rain tapped the small barred window that’s too
high to look through. There was no one to protect him should the
darkness come for him.

A giggle filled the air.

He looked up, saw nothing.

Small water splashing footsteps echoed
on the tiled floor.

He stood up, saw nothing.

Martin withdrew to a corner behind the
bed. He sunk down on the ground and buried his head in his knees.
He felt the cold of the rain had found him and wrapped around
him.

He started to shiver.

A small childlike shrike deafened his
ears.

He started to mumble and wept at the
same time.

Something knocked against a cell door
further down the passage.

Martin stood up slowly eyes wide and
his breathing accelerated.

More footsteps echoed
loudly.

“
Christopher.” Martin
called in a whisper.

No response.

Martin felt weak and dizzy. He could
barely hold his own weight. His legs felt like rubber and the bars
were moving away from him, keeping him out of reach.

A soft voice called from the end of
the passage.

“
What is that boy I can’t
hear you?” Martin asked unable to hear what’s said.

He steadied himself against the wall.
Slowly he walked towards the bars.

“
Daddy…” The voice called
again.

“
Come here son.” Martin
encouraged at the bars.

Small footsteps echoed again, walking
slowly forward.

“
Daddy, it’s so cold. I’m
scared.”

“
Come to daddy son, daddy
will help you.”

Martin was at the bars now he had to
stop for a moment to catch his breath before he spoke. He couldn’t
see down the passage, the bar holds his vision forward. He could
hear footsteps drew near. Each step stabbed like a thousand knifes
into his soul.

A soft weep echoed from the cell next
to him.

Martin stuck his hand through the bars
in an attempt to draw Christopher near.

“
Here son, come to me.” He
whispered.

“
Daddy I loved
you.”

“
I still love you
son.”

Water fell in the corner of the cell
in which Martin’s locked.

“
Daddy I can’t find
her.”

“
Who’re you looking for
son?”

“
Mommy she loves
me.”

“
I love you too,
son.”

“
Daddy…” The small voice
whispered.

“
Let daddy see you son.”
Martin stretched his hand out even more until his shoulder started
to ache as he pressed it against the bar. He’s cornered.

“
Will you hurt me again
daddy.”

“
No son.” Martin said with
a large lump in his throat. He felt the tears running down his face
but he wanted to remain calm for his son’s sake.

“
Why did you then
daddy…?”

Christopher stood at the corner of the
cell just out of reach of Martin. He moved forward slowly just so
Martin could see him.

Martin gasped. The air was so cold
that vapor escaped his mouth. His fingers felt frozen to the bone.
His lips turned blue and his eyes burned as ice-cold wind had blown
into them. He tried to reach out further to touch
Christopher.

“
I am so sorry son.”
Martin whispered and wept softly.

“
Why did you hurt me and
mommy?” Christopher asked in a saddened voice.

“
It was a mistake
son.”

“
Why do we have to be in
the lake, why can’t we come home?” Christopher asked.

“
I want you home, but it’s
too late for that now son.”

Christopher fell silent for a
moment.

“
I don’t like it there,
it’s too dark and cold, please daddy. Why can’t we come home?”
Christopher pleaded.

“
I am so sorry my baby,
please forgive me.” Martin sobbed.

“
Why, why then daddy,
she’s going to get you.” Christopher stood inside the cell at
Martin’s side. Water collected on the ground. His small face bent
out of shape as he contorts with anger.

“
Christopher.” Martin
reached out for him.

“
She is going to get you.
She is going to hurt you. She will make you suffer.”

“
Please son.” Martin
realized that Christopher was too anger and he couldn’t calm him
simply by talking.

“
Murderer, murderer,
murderer…” Christopher’s voice echoed through his whole body until
he shook.

Christopher faded with a weep so
heartfelt and cold that it could bend your mind and soul leaving
scars for the remainder of your life.

Martin fell to his knees weeping
loudly and uncontrollable.

Something startled him. Has
Christopher returned? Something crept down the passage towards his
cell Martin stopped weeping and stood up too fast. The room started
to spin and he fell backwards his back hitting the side of the bed
behind him. He got up cautiously and slowly moved forward until he
pressed against the bars again. He felt cold, desperately cold and
depressed like he had never felt it before. It was coming down the
passage with a whisper but more like a moaning whisper, hissing and
scratching as it moved. It was like a snake slithering on the
ground. Its anger, depression and sorrow all mixed into one
emotion.

Martin stepped back from the cell
bars.

It wasn’t Christopher. It’s colder and
harder than a small angry boy could ever be.

It hummed softly, moaning and
whispering at the same time.

It was behind him, above
him.

It was close enough the Martin could
feel it all around him, yet he couldn’t see anything.

The sound got louder and rang though
his ears.

He tried to block his ears with his
hands.

The sound won’t let him escape in any
way possible.

The walls changed color on the other
side of the cell, like a mist of black smoke rolled in. It took the
light from the bulbs in the overhead lights. It snuffed them out
with no difficulties. It crept in closer, onto the bars, the floor
and ceiling of the cell, darkening them to a think oily black
mass.

The sounds bounced around in the small
enclosure. It was louder and more depressing, angrier and colder
then when it had first entered the passage.

Martin couldn’t hide, he couldn’t run.
It was here, it had finally come in and now it was choking him. He
tried to breathe but almost every breath escaped him. The air felt
too thick to stick in his lungs. He couldn’t move, think, he’s
weakened by fear.

More light faded as the darkness
surrounded him, pulling him to the ground and filling his mind and
soul.

Martin saw anything. He couldn’t call
out for help, not even a whisper. He closed his eyes and gave in to
the darkness.

It’s over. This suffering was over at
last.

*~*~*

*VII*

Andrew arrived at the drunken man’s
house behind Davis. Andrew parked in the street in front of the
house and walked up the paved footpath to the front door. A small
hedge, no higher than a foot, guided the way. The grass’s neatly
trimmed and two large trees stood in the front yard. To the right
the driveway led passed the house to the garage further back from
the front door. All the windows concealed the inside of the house
with heavy curtains. At first glance it appeared that no one was
home.

Andrew rang the doorbell. He shielded
his face from the rain that fell fast and hard. Rain fell on his
hair soaking it until it ran down his face and the back of his
head, causing his hair to lay flat and dark. Andrew wiped the water
out of his eyes occasionally and shook his head. Now and then he
would make a sucking sound to get rid of the water collecting on
his upper lip. Davis felt the same problem with the rain although
it didn’t bother him as much.

Water ran down the path towards the
street where it met the water already running down the side of the
street to the storm drain dragging a few paper and rubbish with it.
Normally the streets were clean, but the wind blew over some
rubbish bins that were standing close to the sidewalk ready for
collection.

Andrew rang the bell again.

No response.

Impatient by waiting and getting more
annoyed with the rain, Andrew was about to call it a day and head
back to the vehicle. Davis paused, perking Andrew’s curiosity. What
did he hear through the rain hammering on the windows, roof and
paving?

Davis started to move around the side
of the house and noticed movement in the garage. “Sheriff, he’s
here in the garage.” He reported.

Andrew joined him and headed into the
garage.

“
Good day sir, I was
wondering if it’s possible to ask you a few questions.” Andrew
asked as the drunken man named Len popped his head out of the hood
of his old Chevy vehicle.

“
What can I do for you
sheriff. I believe we sorted that little incident the other days
out.”

“
Yes, it is. But I’m here
to ask you about the accusation you were making towards me.” Andrew
said stepping further into the garage to get the rain off his
back.