Authors: Glenn Bullion
Beautiful.
“Kelly Ann Rierson,” Doc said.
Mason memorized every inch of her. He wasn't sure how mind sliding worked himself, but the picture wasn't necessary. Kelly Ann Rierson was a strong name, with a strong tie to the person giving him the name. He'd have no trouble finding her. Although the picture would come in handy if she was in a crowd.
He closed his eyes and took strong, steady breaths. He repeated her name over and over to himself, while keeping her track picture up on the screen in his mind.
He felt the bed fall away from under him.
Mason slowly opened his eyes, although he still couldn't see much. His senses of hearing and smell slowly caught up with the rest of him. He could make out a faint outline of a tree in front of him. He heard crickets and leaves rustling all around him. There was a slight breeze at his back. The scent of nature touched his nose.
He was in the woods.
“Mason, are you okay?” Doc asked.
The voice was right next to him, like Doc was in the woods with him.
He nodded, and immediately felt silly. His body was still in the lab. It was only his mind that had taken a trip.
He looked at his hands and could barely see them in the darkness. It was a habit he developed a long time ago. He always thought it was strange that during a mind slide he actually thought he had a body.
“Yeah, Doc, I'm here.”
He heard Ronald. He could hear everything in the lab as well as the woods around him. It took many mind slides to get used to that.
“This is amazing. His vitals are all steady. Not a single spike.”
“That's not important now, Ronald. Mason, what do you see? Be aware.”
He winced.
Be aware
. He hated when they said that. It always felt like they were trying to program a robot.
But they did succeed over the years. He had the use of all five of his senses and a memory that defied explanation. He was very good at
being aware
.
“Give me a second,” he said.
He described the woods around him as the relaxing music danced in his ears. He could never get a good feel for temperature, but there was a persistent breeze. The trees were thick and dense. He didn't hear traffic of any kind. The moon peeked from behind the clouds every so often, providing some light. It was very peaceful, very lonely.
“Do you see Kelly?”
Brian interrupted. “Wait a minute. Are you trying to tell me the kid is psychic? He can bend spoons and crap like that?”
“Hush!”
Mason looked all around him. His heart sank. He had the feeling Kelly's dead body wasn't too far away, and he would drag his foot right through her. He wasn't sure if he could handle that.
“I don't see Kelly anywhere. But, wait-”
There was a break in the woods up ahead. He walked forward, not even bothering to move around the trees. He walked
through
them, feeling the bark and sap as he passed through each one. He stopped when the trees came to an end.
There was a dirt path, large enough for a vehicle.
One direction led deeper into the woods. The other led to a house.
He took a breath and slowly approached using the dirt road. He made sure to narrate everything he saw. It was still difficult to see, but the house looked to be in good shape. It still had all its windows and a wrap-around porch. The wind blew the front screen door back and forth. The house was completely dark. He wasn't even sure if there was any electricity. There were no cars. He didn't see or hear anyone, especially a pretty teenaged girl.
“Blood pressure is going up slightly,” Ronald announced.
“Wouldn't yours?” Mason said. “I'm in the middle of the haunted forest here.”
“No, Mason, only your mind is,” Doc said, stating the obvious. “Nothing there can hurt you. There's nothing to be afraid of.”
“How many times have you all mind slid? None? So maybe-”
Mason went quiet as he stopped near the steps leading to the porch. There was a puddle of something in front of him.
A thick, dark something.
It trailed away from the house in a thin line before disappearing down the path. He knelt down and ran a hand through the puddle. It was thick and warm.
He took a deep breath, knowing what he had to do next.
“Mason? Talk to me.”
“Just hold on a sec.”
He repeated to himself as he moved his lips closer to the puddle. He wasn't really
tasting
it. But he had to put his tongue to it, had to simulate the act of tasting in order for his sense of taste to process.
It never got any easier.
He stuck his tongue in the puddle.
He wretched and gagged. His body must have done the same in the lab, as he felt a hand on his forehead.
“Mason? Are you okay?”
“Blood pressure is still going up.”
“I'm okay, I'm okay. There's a huge puddle in front of the house. It's not blood. Motor oil, maybe? I'm not sure. It's warm.”
“That means a car was there. Do you see a mailbox of any kind? Or house numbers by the door?”
“No mailbox. Let me take a peek at the door-”
“Please someone help me!”
The scream froze Mason in place. It was faint, but definitely female. He cocked his head from side to side, listening for anything. The only sound was the wind blowing through the trees.
“Mason?”
“Shut up. Just shut up for a minute.”
The female voice called out again.
“Please! Is anyone up there?”
Up.
She was in the basement.
Mason ran around the side of the house, looking for any kind of basement window. He found several, all spaced apart. He didn't hesitate pushing his head through the first dirty glass window he knelt in front of.
The sounds of nature disappeared. The musty smell of earth was thick in the air. The light varied from black to almost-black as clouds passed in front of the moon.
He saw a pair of pale legs in the corner.
They didn't move for a second. That scared Mason more than any experiment he ever had to do. Then they shifted slightly on the dirt floor. He saw a chain around her ankle and heard what sounded like crying.
Mason pushed his way through the wall and landed on the dirt floor. He walked through everything in his way to cross the basement, vaguely aware of what passed through him. A wooden table with metal on top. Some chairs. Something large and round on the floor, maybe a barrel.
“Oh my God.”
“What, Mason? What!?”
He found Kelly Rierson.
He struggled to see her as the moon teased with its light through the window. Kelly wore the same track uniform as in her picture. Tears ran down her face. Her legs were bruised and dirty. One strap of her tank top was ripped, revealing part of a white sports bra. The left side of her face was red, maybe from a slap or a hard fall. She pulled uselessly at a six foot chain anchored to the wall, the other end secured to her ankle.
There was absolutely nothing he could do.
“Doc, I found her.”
“Is she okay? Tell me!”
“She's alive.” Mason tried to think of what kind of human being could chain someone up in a basement. “But this isn't good.”
“What do we do?” Ronald asked.
Doc's voice was low. “I don't know.”
The basement was flooded in light as a van drove by and parked in front of the
house. In that one second Mason took a mental snapshot of everything around him, including the look of horror on Kelly's face.
“We're in a basement. She's chained up,” he explained. “And a van just pulled up.”
Mason and Kelly both heard a door slam above them. Then slow footsteps, dust falling with each step. Mason was terrified, and he was safe. He couldn't imagine what Kelly was going through.
His heart broke as he watched her try to slide her bare foot through the locked chain. It was wrapped around her ankle twice and held in place with a padlock. There was nothing she could do. There was blood running down her foot from burrs in the chain.
“Listen, kid,” Brian said. “You said there's a van? Vans have license plates.”
Mason didn't want to, but he walked away from Kelly, across the basement. He stuck his feet into the cinder-block wall, like stepping stones, and pulled himself through the window to the outside.
A black van was parked on the dirt path near the front steps, over the dark puddle. There was just enough light to let him recite the Maryland license plate. It gave Mason some comfort to know at least Kelly was still in Maryland.
Brian grabbed his radio. In only a minute he had all the information he needed from headquarters.
The van was registered to a woman named Sharon Grainger. She lived on the other side of town.
“Okay,” Brian announced. “I'll pay this woman a visit.”
“But Officer,” Doc said. “This is a regular house, not a place in the woods. My daughter isn't there.”
“It's our best lead, assuming that kid over there isn't full of shit.”
“I'm going with you.”
Brian said nothing for a moment.
“That's against the rules, Al.”
“Then I'll just follow you.”
Brian sighed, accepting defeat. “Let's go.”
Doc and Brian left the lab. Ronald was alone with Mason's body.
Mason's mind was still in the middle of the worst night of his life.
He turned away from the van and took a few steps back to the basement window.
Ronald's voice was next to his ear. “Mason, you've done all you can. Maybe you should slide back into your body now.”
“I won't leave Kelly.”
“She can't see you.”
“After nine years, you don't think I know that?”
To his credit, Ronald said nothing else. Mason heard him walk away from the table, the sounds of beautiful string music still in the air, at odds with the nightmare he was in.
Mason felt like he would get sick at any second, but he slowly poked his head through the glass once again and landed on the dirt floor. Kelly was still in the corner. She had given up on freeing her ankle and instead tried to pull the chain from the wall.
A door opened at the top of the basement steps. Kelly stopped yanking on the chain, afraid to move. Mason moved closer to Kelly. He stood in between her and the stairs, knowing it didn't help at all.
The man took slow steps, whistling
Amazing Grace
. Mason never had a hard opinion on the song, but now it was the scariest thing he'd ever heard in his life.
He couldn't make out any details about the man's face. He carried a flashlight in one hand and a bowl of water in the other. Kelly threw herself in the corner as far she could go. He flashed the light on her face.
“Leave me alone.”
“Just relax there, little girl,” he said. His voice was deep and gravelly. “You need to drink some water. Soon, we'll purify you. Then you can be with God.”
Kelly cried. “Mister, I don't want to be with God. Please, just let me go.”
The man lunged forward. He raised the flashlight high over his head, like a weapon. She cowered in the corner and covered her head. Mason hovered over her and tried to wrap his arms around her. He had to do something, anything. His arms only sank an inch or so into her body. He was so close he could feel her shaking.
Mason and Kelly both waited for the blow that never came. The man had changed his mind. Mason had the feeling he'd already hit Kelly at least once.
“Don't ever say you don't want to be with God,” the man threatened. “I'm just trying to help you. We need to purify you. Drink now.”
He placed the bowl of water near her feet, then walked away. He kept on whistling as he walked up the stairs.
After the basement door closed Kelly reached for the bowl and drank it as fast as she could. Mason started to cry with her. He wondered how much she'd eaten and drank the past two days.
Mason steeled himself and walked up the basement steps. He passed through the door and was surprised to see the first floor was well lit. There were candles and a few lanterns spread out. It reminded Mason of a hunting lodge he'd seen on TV. Stuffed deer heads on the walls, a couch and a coffee table in the living room, a tiny bathroom across from the basement door.
The place would seem nice, if it weren't for the man in the kitchen.
Mason finally got a good look at him.
The man looked normal enough, although he moved with a slight limp. He wore blue jeans and a thick flannel shirt, and was almost completely bald. He wouldn't have any trouble blending into a crowd.
There was a lantern on the table in the middle of the dining room, bathing both rooms in light. He still whistled as he set two buckets of water on a gas stove.
“Gonna purify you,” he sang, lifting his arms above him. “Then God will take you and love you.”