“Thank God. He’s awake!” he hollered over his shoulder, before turning back to me. “You have glass in your hair. Hold still.”
LEAVE
LEAVE
LEAVE
“Charlie’s gone,” I responded. Had he asked me a question?
“I know. I’m so sorry.”
Time blurred. Tate’s frantic fingers were replaced by smaller, more gentle ones.
“I think he just needs to rest a bit,” their owner said.
Viola.
That’s right, I’m at her house.
“I need to get to the station,” Tate said. He was far away again. “I’ll call his Dad and let him know what’s happened. He can come pick him up.”
No. Wait, I think I need to tell you something.
“Did it change anything? What he remembered?” she asked, dabbing at something on my head that stung.
“No. That probably was the killer who came to see him, but if he can’t remember details, we have nothing to go on. And we already knew about the bear traps. Found six of them covered in dried blood in the lookout after he disappeared.”
His name is Charlie. And he’s gone.
“And you’re sure it’s this Bobby? What about the old murders?”
“It’sssnot Bobby,” I slurred, trying and failing to open my eyes again. It was too fucking bright.
Tate sighed. “I’ll call you later, Grandma.”
Time slipped again. I was lost in a hazy liminal space, searching. Searching.
What was I looking for? Oh, yeah.
Charlie’s gone.
“Okay, great. We’ll see you soon. I think he’s alright, he’s just had quite a shock,” I heard Viola say. Who was she speaking to?
“We’ve called your Dad, sweetheart.” She was closer now. “He said he’ll be able to pick you up in half an hour or so, after they fly back to the base here in town.”
No, that’s not right.
The plastic couch under me creaked when I tried to sit up. “I need to go,” I mumbled.
I lost Charlie in this house. I can’t be here anymore. And I need to tell Tate something.
“He shouldn’t be too long,” she reassured. “Then you can go home and rest.”
LEAVE
LEAVE
LEAVE
