The shadows had started to grow longer when the boys noticed the change in the woods. They had been hiking through a thick forest of mature pines, oaks, maples and birches and the usual ferns and brambles that grew between. Now the trees were smaller and the ground was much more open with the bushes and vines not as congested. Denny stopped and sniffed the air. Bear would have picked this up a while ago, he thought, and his eyes welled. It was the smell of long dead ashes, like finding a campfire in the spring that hadn’t seen a flame since the previous summer. It was rather unpleasant, the smell of bad history.
When he noticed Billy eyeing him with an expression that clearly thought Denny had lost his marbles, he simply said “We’re close,” and started walking. Mixed among the new growth Denny saw the crumbled, blackened trunks of the trees that had fallen victim to the fire. A few were still standing, held in place by roots that were just as dead as the visible trunks, but most were in ruin on the ground. In several places they had toppled over on top of one another and again Denny thought of old, dead campfires, these ones built for giants.
Finally, the first of the crumbled buildings came into view. They ran over to it and climbed over the rubble. It was really nothing more than a cement shell. The entire wooden structure had burned completely, the ashes scattered by decades of wind and rain.
Denny tried to recall what he knew of this place. He remembered his mother telling him stories about it because his grandfather had been killed in the explosion. The buildings had belonged to the military and served as an ammunition storage facility. Just before the end of the war, a massive explosion had devastated the entire complex, killing everyone on the base. Denny’s mother said she remembered thinking the Germans had bombed them, the explosion had been so loud. Air raid sirens had sent everyone into their cellars. She sat down in the dark cellar praying with her mother, expecting another explosion to rip through the night. A few hours later a neighbor told them what had happened and she knew her father was gone.
As Denny jumped over the crumbling wall he noticed how strangely untouched the ruins looked. There was no trash or empty beer cans that would usually accumulate at a spot like this over the years. Then he thought of the hike they made and figured it was hardly worth coming this far in the woods to drink. All of the old access roads were long ago grown over, and now that he thought about it, not too many people ever mentioned knowing the place existed. Like it was one of Haven’s dirty secrets.
Denny and Billy rummaged around the building for a while and decided to move on before it got too dark. They came across several other building shells, all in the same state of ruin and abandonment. They were on the perimeter of the last set of buildings when they realized how dark it was getting.
“Looks like we won’t find the caves tonight.” Billy sighed.
“That’s alright. We’ll camp here and start fresh first thing in the morning.”
They worked quickly setting up the small tent, but had to light the lanterns in order to finish the job. Denny pulled a small transistor radio from his pack and tried to tune in the Red Sox game. All he got was static and he turned it off in frustration. After getting the tent up, they immediately built a fire outside the entrance as the night was cooling off rapidly. An owl kept them company, whooing loudly as they cooked hot dogs and beans over the fire. After they ate their meal, the two boys talked into the night.
The usual subjects of school and girls and the Red Sox talked out, Denny mentioned Greymore. Billy frowned but did not reply. “I heard some guys at the barber shop one day talking about what he did. They said he didn’t just kill ’em but he did some unnatural things.” Denny paused, hoping that Billy wouldn’t ask him what that meant, because Denny had no idea.
“Denny, I… I need to tell you something.” Billy’s voice was shaky and Denny couldn’t read his expression in the firelight. “You have to swear you won’t ever tell anyone.” Now he looked up and Denny could see the seriousness etched on Billy’s face. It was the face of an adult and the flickering light made it look more than a little scary.
“Come on, Billy, you know I…”
“Swear.”
Denny looked at him again. His eyes seemed to be giving off the intense heat of the fire rather than reflecting it.
“I swear.” It suddenly occurred to Denny that he really didn’t want to hear what Billy was going to tell him.
“It’s not true… what they say about Greymore.” His eyes were like burning embers, aglow with conviction. “My dad says they blamed it on Greymore but he didn’t do it. They were friends growing up, like you and me, real tight. My dad was the only friend Greymore had, because of the way he looks, you know?”
Denny nodded but didn’t speak.
“Dad says there was no way he killed any of those kids. During the time of some of the murders they were together, that’s how Dad knows for sure. They blamed it on him ’cause they couldn’t find the real killer and because of what he looks like.”
The weight of what Billy said seemed to be pushing on Denny’s chest. Questions were popping into his head faster than he could ask them. “Then who did kill all those kids?” was the one that finally came out.
“My dad doesn’t know. He says he goes over that summer in his mind over and over and it’s like there’s something there, something he’s missing. He testified in Greymore’s defense and it pretty much killed him in this town. He lost a lot of friends, and a lot of respect. Some folks still give Dad a hard time about it, especially now that Greymore’s back.” Billy fought to hold back tears. “Sometimes I think that’s why he moved so close to the lake, to try to figure it out. Anyway, Crawford told my dad that Greymore would have been in for life without his testimony. He says if there’s any more killing my dad should be held as an accomplice.”
“That bastard, no wonder his kid is such an asshole.”
Billy wiped his eyes and looked up at Denny. “Do you believe me?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Nobody else ever believed my dad.”
A sudden flapping noise made both boys jump as the owl left its perch in search of dinner, leaving the night silent except for the crackling of the fire and two young voices. “Why do you think the killing stopped after they arrested Greymore?”
“Dad can’t figure that out but I think there’s something he isn’t telling me.”
Denny stared at the fire trying to think of what to say next. He reached back and grabbed another log and tossed it into the flames, sending fireworks of sparks in all directions. “I was wondering why your dad let you come. Everyone else is so afraid.”
“Why did your mom let you come?”
Denny looked down at the fire. “She’s getting worse. I don’t think she really knows what’s going on anymore. I could have told her I was going out to assassinate the president and she would have told me to have a nice time. If she bothered to say anything at all.”
“What are you gonna do? If she keeps getting worse, I mean.”
“I don’t know. I was thinking maybe Father McCarthy could help… we used to be pretty religious. Except if Mom ever found out she’d freak out even worse. She hates him.” He quickly filled Billy in on the confrontation the other night but stopped short of mentioning the tear-filled talk with his mom. “I think he could help…” he repeated, but had nothing else to add.