“I know what he meant,” said Aubrey. “I was just fucking with him. Like I said before, I’ve got a job. I can’t just up and leave.”
“Then call off,” said Stephen. “I’ll make you internet famous.”
“Who says I’m not already?” asked Aubrey, but then her smile faded to a grimace. “Ew, that makes it sound like I’m a porn star or something.”
“Look,” said Stephen as he sat up and tried to pretend like he wasn’t drunk. “I’ll pay you two hundred bucks a day for three days. All you have to do is take us to Widowsfield and do an interview on camera about what you saw there.”
Aubrey studied them and crossed her arms. “Two fifty, and no funny stuff.”
“Deal,” said Stephen before he shook her hand. “We’re leaving in the morning, around eight. Give Jacker your number. I’ll have a contract for you to review in the morning, but right now I need to go pass out.”
He leaned on Jacker’s shoulder and then whispered to him, “You owe me, big guy.” He waved back at them as he headed out of the hotel bar and tried to remember his room number.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The End Begins
March 12th, 2012
“Everyone,” said Stephen as he stood beside the van to greet the group. “This is Aubrey.”
The petite, young girl smiled at waved. She was even shorter than Rachel, and had dyed blonde hair that was tied up in ponytails on either side of her head. She had studs in both cheeks that sat perfectly within her dimples when she smiled. There were colorful tattoos that adorned her chest and arms, and she was wearing a frilled, black skirt that revealed nearly the full length of her pale legs.
“Aubrey’s from this area, and she’s going to tell us about some of the things she’s seen out in Widowsfield.”
“Are you coming with us?” asked Paul.
She held up a green bag that Alma assumed was packed with clothes. “Yep.”
“Do we have the room?” asked Paul.
“Well, I thought Alma could ride with you,” said Stephen. “And if she wants to be in the van, Aubrey said she’d be willing to ride on the bike with you.”
“No, that’s okay,” said Alma. “I’m fine riding with Paul.” There was no way she was going to let a cute little thing like Aubrey ride on Paul’s bike.
Paul must’ve sensed Alma’s thoughts because he snickered as he put his arm around her shoulder. “We’ll be fine on the bike. Good to meet you, Aubrey.”
“One other thing,” said Stephen before Alma and Paul walked off to where Paul’s motorcycle was parked. “Aubrey says the town is fenced up. It got bought by Cada E.I.B., so we might run into some security out there. We’ve got a plan if we do.”
Rachel came out of the hotel and walked past everyone. She went straight to Jacker’s van, which was parked in the roundabout outside of the hotel’s entrance, and got in. Her anger was apparent to everyone, but only Stephen seemed to know what was wrong. Alma thought about trying to talk to her new friend, but decided to wait until later to confront her.
“Everyone ready?” asked Stephen. He seemed apologetic for his wife’s behavior, if not a little embarrassed.
“We’ll be right behind you,” said Paul as he headed for his motorcycle.
Once they were far enough away to avoid being heard, Alma turned to Paul and asked, “What was that about?”
He shrugged and then spit off to the side. “Hell if I know. Rachel looked pissed. They must’ve gotten in a fight or something.”
“I’ll have to try and talk to her later.”
“Or you could leave it be and let them sort out their own problems,” said Paul as he took Alma’s helmet off the handle of the bike and offered it to her.
She sneered as she took the helmet from him. “Don’t be an asshole.”
“Sorry,” he said as he put on his own helmet. “I just don’t think we know them well enough to get mixed up in their marriage.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“Like always,” said Paul and he moved away as Alma tried to punch him on the arm. “So, are you ready for this? No turning back after today. You sure you want to go through with it?”
“For the hundredth time, yes.”
“All right, I just wanted to make sure.”
Alma looked back at the van as Paul got on the bike. “What do you think of the new girl?”
“I don’t know. Haven’t said more than a few words to her. Why?”
“Do you think she’s cute?” asked Alma.
Paul paused and hung his head low, fully aware of the trap Alma was setting for him. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I only have eyes for you, sweetie.” He looked at her and gave a goofy, toothy grin.
“I bet she has something to do with why Rachel’s so pissed off.”
“Oh yeah?” asked Paul, disinterested. “Well, I bet neither of us know the facts and shouldn’t speculate. That’s what I bet.”
Alma rolled her eyes and sighed as she got on the bike behind him. “Wow, did you have a special cup of dickhead-coffee this morning or something?”
“It did taste a little funny. Did you backwash into it?” asked Paul before he started the bike, muffling any response from Alma. She just slapped him on the back as he chuckled.
Widowsfield wasn’t far from Branson, but the trip felt like it took longer than it should have. The winding roads that cut through the Ozarks slowed their progress, but provided scenery that kept Alma’s mind off what they were headed out to do. Every time she thought about the cabin, her heartbeat quickened and her palms started to sweat.
“I’m coming for you, Ben.” Her whisper was lost in the noise of the road.
They passed a sign that had once read, ‘Widowsfield 10 Miles’ but had been riddled with buckshot. Each hole was rimmed with rust and the sign’s post had been bent backward, as if someone had run into it, perhaps in an attempt to further erase the town from history.
After the sign the road descended. It was a precipitous decline, and one she remembered from her childhood. This hill always caused her stomach to lurch, which had become a sensation that she learned to despise. She even avoided carnival rides in fear of causing the same sensation and that it would remind her of Widowsfield.
The woods lay beyond, and Alma recalled the fog that had enveloped them sixteen years ago. She thought about her father as he screamed at her to be quiet. And she thought of the creatures in the woods, whose shapes were but shadows in the mist, running along side their car as they tried to escape.
Fear choked her and she felt her body start to shake. She struggled for breath and had to close her eyes as Paul drove down the hill and into the woods that preceded the border of Widowsfield. She tried to concentrate on the hum of the motor and the whistling wind, but her mind seemed determined to think of the creatures in the woods. Those hulking ghosts haunted her, crawling through the trees and reaching out toward the car as if trying to pull her out and into the mist with them.
Then she focused on the only thing that could quiet her fearful mind.
314.
She thought only of the number, and imagined it written in black ink on her arm. Her fear subsided as the number drew her in. Chaos Magick taught that symbols could be used as a focal point to assist in a person’s ability to shut out the world around them. For Alma, it was a journey along a razor’s edge. There was something wicked hidden in that number, and she wasn’t certain she wanted to know what it was.
She tried to come up with a different symbol that she could focus on, and the first thing that came to mind was the teddy bear keychain that Paul had bought for her. She could feel it in her coat pocket, pressed into her abdomen as she held onto Paul. For some reason, the thought of losing him occurred to her, and she held onto him tighter.