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Authors: Ike Hamill

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BOOK: Migrators
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Alan shook his head as he entered Liz’s number. After he explained the situation, he handed the phone back. Bob led the way back down the hill. The descent was more difficult than the climb. The leaves and loose soil gave way and the men were in a hurry to get back to the boat. Bob got there first. He untied the boat and waited for Alan.
 

The little engine didn’t want to start. Alan fiddled with the choke and throttle and pulled it repeatedly. Bob kept his eyes locked on the far bank, where the grass lay flat around the body. With a savage pull, the engine coughed to life. Milky puffs of exhaust streamed out behind the boat as Alan ran it full-speed across the little pond. Just before they reached the entrance to the creek, Alan tilted the motor up and let their momentum carry them through the sediment.
 

Their trip back to the the culvert was fast. Alan swerved down the creek, letting the prop chew its way through the weeds as they went. They scraped to a halt and Bob grabbed the metal edge of the culvert. Alan killed the engine. They spun the boat around before climbing the side of the culvert up to the road.

Alan looked up and down the road.

“This is the Mill Road, right?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Bob said. “We’re maybe three-quarters of a mile east of the dam. The sheriff is supposed to meet us here.”

Alan nodded.

“Wait, have you still got weed on you? You might want to ditch that,” Alan said.

“Oh, shit,” Bob said. He patted his pockets. He pulled out the pipe and the little baggie. He looked up and down the road and then down at the boat. Bob ran up the road and then down the embankment and up a little hill to the trees. He ducked behind a big maple and then ran back to the road. A car crested the hill as Bob walked back up.

“Thanks,” Bob said.

“No problem. I thought you said it was prescription.”

“Not
my
prescription,” Bob said. He smiled briefly. They watched the car pass. It was an old sedan. Bob waved, but the gray-haired woman behind the wheel didn’t seem to notice.

Another car came over the hill. This one had flashing lights on top—it was a white Chevy and it pulled over in front of Alan and Bob. The young man who got out wore brown pants and a short-sleeve olive shirt. He put on a wide-brim hat and approached.

“You the hunters?” the officer asked.

“Hunters? No,” Alan said.

“We took our boat up to the little pond. That’s where we found the body,” Bob said.

The officer followed Bob’s pointing hand and saw the boat next to the culvert.

“Take me there,” he said. He pulled his radio from his belt.

X • X • X • X • X

Liz ambushed Alan with questions as soon as he came through the door. Alan sat down on the chair next to the door and bent over to pick at his muddy shoelaces. He grunted as he reached.

“So what happened? Where were you, anyway? We’ve been listening to the radio, but they haven’t said a thing. Do they know who it was?”

Alan straightened up. His shoulder popped. He sighed. Joe was sitting at the table with his homework laid out in front of him. Joe had a pencil hovering over his paper and was staring at one of his textbooks, but he was clearly listening and hoping to hear the story before he was banished to his room.

“There’s nothing to tell,” Alan said.

“What? What are you talking about? You said on the phone that you and your friend found a body. What happened?”

“We did,” Alan said. “And then it was gone.”

He sighed again. Alan put his muddy shoes in the tray next to the door and then walked in his socks over to the microwave. He saw the plate in there and hit the one-minute button.
 

“Tell me everything,” Liz said.

Alan glanced at Joe.

“Joe, go work on your homework in your room,” Liz said.

“Awwww,” Joe moaned. “But it’s Friday.”

“And you won’t have a chance to do it Sunday because we’re going to the Grasso’s for dinner, remember? Just go upstairs,” Liz said.

Joe slammed his book shut and grabbed his paper. He stomped down the hall.
 

Alan leaned against the counter and rubbed his forehead. He started slowly—first telling Liz about the idea of the trip and how they’d found their way to the pond. She pushed herself up and sat on the countertop as Alan described the discovery under the cloud of flies. Alan pulled his plate from the microwave and put it on the table. He sat in front of it, but pushed it away as he told of the body and then the climb to the cabin.

“That’s when I called you,” Alan said. “We went back to the culvert, got the deputy, and took him back up to the pond. We were too heavy—the boat got stuck with three of us weighing it down—so I had to get out and pull the boat past a couple of the shallow spots. That’s how I got soaked through.”

“Take off your pants. I’ll go get you sweatpants or something,” Liz said.

“It’s okay. I’m dry now,” Alan said. He slumped down a little.

Liz jumped down from her perch and opened the fridge. She handed Alan a beer.

“Thanks,” Alan said.

“So?”

“We found the same spot right away. The grass was still flattened and the flies were still there, but the body was gone.”

“Gone? Where did it go?” she asked.

Alan shrugged. He picked up his fork and moved some of the food around on his plate. Liz had gotten takeout from the terrible restaurant down at Kingston Lakes. Alan jabbed at the mashed potatoes. A clump stuck to his fork.
 

“So there was nothing there?”

“No, there was something. It looked like a skinned gopher or maybe a beaver. I’m not sure. It was in the same spot as where we’d seen the body, but it was like a fresh kill. I mean, it should have been clear that the smell wasn’t coming from that thing. It was all bones and organs. The cop just eyeballed us. We kept telling him what we’d seen before. The purple thing didn’t even have a face. I’m not sure it was human, but it certainly didn’t look anything like the skeleton that was lying there. Then he asked if we’d been drinking or enjoying any drugs that afternoon.”

Liz sat down.

“That’s crazy,” she said. “It was gone?”

“Yeah. Then Bob suggested we go up the hill. When we were up on the hill earlier, we saw a lot of bodies out there.”

A car came up the driveway, splashing the barn with its headlights.
 

Alan jumped up from his chair and ran to the window. He exhaled his relief.

“It’s Bob,” he said. He watched his friend park near the Cook House and then cross the driveway. Alan went over to the hall and flicked on the shed lights. Bob appeared at the door a few seconds later.

“Hi, Bob,” Alan said.

“Hey. I just wanted to confer. Oh, hi,” Bob said when he spotted Liz.
 

She stood and held out her hand.

“I finally get to meet my husband’s new playmate,” Liz said with a big smile.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Bob said. He took Liz’s hand in both of his and smiled.

“Have a seat, Bob,” Alan said. “You want a beer?”

“Thanks, but I better not,” Bob said. “They’ve still got a cop car down on the Mill Road. I don’t want to have another encounter with the sheriff’s office today.”

Alan grunted. The three took seats around the kitchen table.

“Back upstairs, Joe,” Liz said over her shoulder. The boy had been peeking around the corner. He ran off and they heard his feet pounding up the stairs.

“I was just telling Liz about our day,” Alan said. “So we took the deputy up the hill and we showed him all the little trampled spots you could see around the pond. And the dark shapes were still there. You couldn’t really see what they were, but you could see them in the center of each little ring of grass.”

“Wait,” Liz said. “When you saw the body the first time, up close, you didn’t take a picture or anything?”

Alan shrugged.

Bob said, “Didn’t think of it.”

“So we’re up on the hill, and we show him the bodies. He had binoculars. He looked and said he couldn’t tell what the shapes were,” Alan said.

“At this point, we still thought he probably believed us,” Bob said. “So when he radioed in the location, we thought everything was in control.”

Alan nodded.

“It took forever. Hours,” Alan said. “He just stood there. I was freezing because my pants were soaked from jumping in the water to get the boat over that snag. And Bob was all muddy, too. The deputy just stood and waited. We sat down—he wouldn’t let us leave.”

“Under what authority could he detain you?” Liz asked.

“This guy was serious, Liz. We weren’t asking any questions,” Alan said. “Anyway, the game warden finally arrived in one of those inflatable boats. They had another boat with a dog in it. Those guys started tromping around and they finally told us we could go. But by then we kinda wanted to stick around to see what they found, you know?”

“Of course,” Liz said.
 

“They wouldn’t let us,” Bob said. “Practically ran us off.”

“What?” Liz asked.

“Official police business,” Alan said. “We were hampering their investigation. They said they’d call if they needed anything more from us. The one guy looked at our IDs and then they sent us on our way.”

“So you don’t know if they found anything?” Liz asked.

“Yeah, right,” Alan said. He stood up and took his plate to the sink.

“They got back to the culvert almost at the same time we did,” Bob said. “They were loading the boats back on their truck while we were still there.”

“So they didn’t even search?” Liz asked.

“They said they did,” Alan said. He returned to the table and took his seat again. “They said they searched and didn’t find anyone. That was just one of the wardens talking—the deputy wouldn’t tell us anything. We told him again what we’d seen. He said something about coyotes.”

“Coyotes?”

Alan nodded.

“He said there’s a pack back there. He suggested that we might have seen the pack,” Bob said.

“But what about the bodies you saw from the hill? What about the smell?”

Alan shrugged.
 

“We kept asking questions until they ran us off,” Alan said. “I dropped Bob off where he’d parked at the dam and I brought the boat home. By the way, remind me never to try to drive that boat home in the dark again. That trip was hairy.”

“They were still there when I went home, and like I said, there was still a car there just now. I don’t know what they’re doing,” Bob said.

“Probably making sure that nobody else goes upstream until they finish covering up all the evidence,” Alan said.

“Evidence of what?” Liz asked.

“Who knows?” Alan asked. “That’s the point. There’s something strange going on over there and they don’t want anyone to know about it. They also asked us if we took any pictures. At first I thought maybe they wanted to see what we’d found.”

“No,” Bob said. “I think they wanted to make sure we didn’t have any photos. They seemed ready to confiscate our phones if we had any pictures.”

“You guys are paranoid,” Liz said. “If they didn’t find anything there, what would they be covering up?”

“I think they’d already covered it up,” Alan said. “They hid everything while we were going back to the culvert to pick up the deputy.”

Bob didn’t say anything.

“What a crazy day,” Alan said.

“Are you sure we can’t offer you anything to drink, Bob? Maybe some dinner?” Liz asked.

“No, thank you though. I should get going. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay and see what you thought of all that,” Bob said. He stood up. “I’ll see you soon, Alan.”

“Okay,” Alan said.
 

“Nice to meet you, Bob,” Liz said.

“You too,” Bob said with a smile.

“I’ll walk you out,” Alan said.

Out in the driveway, Bob paused as he opened the door to his SUV.

“Might be worth taking a hike back there in a couple of days,” Bob said. “Just to see what’s up.”

“A couple of days? I thought maybe we should go over there tomorrow. I can use the aerial maps online to get a location for that pond and then we can go in from the road down near Strickland’s place,” Alan said.

“I’m afraid the sheriff might still be out there tomorrow,” Bob said.
 

“They’d have to leave a car somewhere then, right? If we see a car along the road anywhere, we won’t go in. It’s an easy walk from here.”

“Okay, what the hell,” Bob said.

X • X • X • X • X

“I like your friend,” Liz said as Alan came back to the kitchen. She sat at the table in the glow of the little light hanging from the brick wall. “He seems nice.”

“Yeah. Bob’s a good guy,” Alan said. “We should have him over for dinner sometime. Joe would probably like hearing about making movies. He used to be fascinated by that stuff.”

Liz nodded.

“You want me to save your dinner?” she asked.

“No, thanks. I can’t eat anything,” Alan said. “I keep thinking about how that body looked. The bruises on its skin, they almost looked tie dyed or something. It looked so weird. Have you ever seen those big horses with the spots on them?”

“I don’t think so,” Liz said.

“They’re draft horses and they have these really subtle spots. I guess it’s almost like a giraffe, but without as much contrast.”

“You’re not making sense,” Liz said. “Were the spots subtle or bright? You said it looked tie dyed.”

“I don’t know what I’m saying,” Alan said. His shoulders slumped. “It was almost a regular pattern, but the thing was purple and yellow. It almost looked like an eggplant in some places, but then others it looked, I don’t know, dead and washed out.”

“And you don’t know what kind of animal it was?” Liz asked.

“No,” Alan said. He shook his head. “No idea. When I saw the legs, I was sure it was a person—a man, in fact. But the arms were weird, and it didn’t have hands or a face.”

“Sounds awful,” Liz said.

Alan leaned back against the counter in front of the sink.

“It really was,” Alan said. “I told Bob we’d go hike in to that same spot tomorrow so we can see what’s there.”

“Not tomorrow,” Liz said. “Tomorrow we have soccer all day. Then on Sunday someone signed us up for apple picking in the morning, remember? And then we’ve got that dinner at your son’s friend’s house?”

BOOK: Migrators
2.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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