---------------------------------------------------
We pulled into the driveway of the Cole’s and I could see Janice with her oldest daughter standing on their porch. Both were in that blank and cold state that comes after you just can’t cry anymore but the pain won’t leave you bones. One of the boys, probably Holden, their middle one motioned us towards the southern pasture with a look on his face that made him seem more forty than fourteen. I didn’t see Bob Cole anywhere, probably fixing some piece of machinery in his barn or on the opposite side of the fields repairing a fence. I’ve been around this town long enough to know that for some, keeping working is the best way for them to work through these things
As the truck drove down the two ruts that led into the southern pasture we passed the horse pen. The two horses in it were slick with sweat and foaming a little. Something definitely had them agitated. I’m no farm boy, still I knew that horses will spook, but not in familier surroundings. Off in the distance an ambulance and the two department Blazers sat idely before the forest along with that now sickening yellow of police caution tape.
As I stepped out of the Sheriffs truck the first thing that hit me was a smell not unlike that which was at the “bad stone” earlier in the day. In fact, not quite unlike the smell at Wally’s cabin the night before. I looked over at the Sheriff and from the puzzled look on his face and the flaring of his nostrils I knew he smelled something sour too. Which was quite a feat for a man who’s been chain smoking since we left in the Country truck earlier today.
I hadn’t realized how cold I had become within the last 24 hours, I hadn’t realized how horrible the things I had seen had been in the last day until I walked up to the spot where little Rachel had died. Green grass, crimson blood, yellow hair, and a white sheet that seemed way to big to cover such a small body. Next to her Dick Whatley stood with such an intense silence above her body that when I looked up into his eyes I felt like he might shoot me on the spot if I lifted that sheet.
I said nothing to Dick, he was not going to tell me anything anyways. Be it shell shock or a sense of duty to a fallen lamb. I just stood up and walked over to Nathan Collier who was coversing with the two ambulance drivers. As I looked back over my shoulder Dick still held his stance, like a graveyard sentinal keeping evil spirits from an innocent soul.
As I approached Nate, he turned from whatever conversation he was having and took off his hat to scratch his head “Terrible day we’ve got huh, Willy?”
I hadn’t seen Nate yet that day but from the stubble on his face you could tell Lisa, trying to help me out, called him in this morning unaware.
“This unfortunately is the half of it.” I sighed and looked back at Dick and the white sheet hiding the tragedy of the hour. ”He been like that long?”
“He was the first one here. He’s the one who found all of this and called for back-up. When I arrived he was standing right there with that look on his face, and it hasn’t changed since.”
“Any idea why?”
“Dick’s a pretty religious man. I myself am not the best member of the church, but if I found what he did. I’d be doing same I’d bet.”
“What do mean?” I turned around and saw the look of glassy eyed fear I’d been seeing since last night.
“Follow me.”
I tapped Sheriff Kummer on the shoulder who had followed me over to talk to the EMPs and we both follwed Nate towards the woods. We walked past the corpse of Rachel’s horse which had managed to get far enough away from her body to die of shock, but not enough to rub the blood from its hooves. Rotting flesh was permeating the air more and more the close we came towards the first trees of the forest. The hairs were standing up all over my body as I began to see too many correlations between this and what I had earlier in the day. I damn near leaped out of my skin when I heard the sound of the Sheriff opening his lighter to fire up another cigarette.
Nate led us along the brush along the woods a few yards until we hit a small clearing in it leading inside. He hunched down and walked through it motioning with one hand for us to follow. I leaned down and followed him in when just inside I was hit with a stench so fowl I nearly wreched right there on the spot. It was a small pocket in the dense woods filled with what seemed to be the corpses of several hundred cats all in various states of decay. A small round stone in the center seemed to be the place of their demise from the dried black blood that covered it.
“Did the Cole’s have any clue this was in here.” I just stared in disbelief at the charnel surroundings of the place.
“Other than noticing a sharp decline in the amount of farm cats recently, no.” Nate had put a hankercheif to his mouth to try and block out the smell.
“What do you think of this Sheriff?” Sheriff Kummer was trying to kick the remains of a calico out of his way to get a position in the place.
“Satanists. I went to a Sheriffs convention in Madison last year about it.” He finally got the fur covered skeleton out of his way, nearly falling over in the process. “Seems Wisconsin is of the number one states for cult behavior of this kind. Some place round Lake Mills just reported something like this not to long ago.”
Nate just looked at me like this was a little too weird to be dismissed like that. I felt it too, but it was a ritualistic thing that was happening here. The blood covered stone proved that. I told Nate to get his camera and we all left. Bob Cole had a back-hoe in his garage and I figured after today, that spot was not going to be in the hidden darkness of the woods for much longer.
I stuck around long enough for me and Nate to coerce Dick to get in his truck while the EMPs zipped poor Rachel into a bag to take her away. Dick seemed noticibly releived as the ambulance bounced its way out of the feild towards the farmhouse. I then left the both of them to take pictures and ask the Coles if any of their boys had been listening to any Slayer records and wearing black lately.
As we bounced out of the field in the Sheriff’s truck I grabbed his pack of smokes from the center console and lit one up. The Sheriff just looked at me like I just pulled a frog out of my eye socket.
“Thought you didn’t smoke those things Willie?”
“I quit when I was twenty Rich.” I held the cigarette on it’s end in front of my face contemplating the lit end. “After today I need one.”
The Sheriff just laughed and steered the truck through the field gates and out of the Cole’s driveway. As we passed the barn I looked in and noticed the diesel backhoe idling blue diesel smoke from it’s stacks and Bob jumping up into the cab.
----------------------------------------------------------
I was relieved when Sheriff Kummer dropped me off in front of the brick façade of the police station. My day with him had worn my patience and hurt my lungs. He yelled something about he’ll be seeing me “real” soon as I slammed the door behind me. I personally hoped I wouldn’t see him until election time again. I stood staring at the red door that led into the station as he pulled away and began to think that the last thing I wanted to do is continue to serve and protect.
As the truck drove down the two ruts that led into the southern pasture we passed the horse pen. The two horses in it were slick with sweat and foaming a little. Something definitely had them agitated. I’m no farm boy, still I knew that horses will spook, but not in familier surroundings. Off in the distance an ambulance and the two department Blazers sat idely before the forest along with that now sickening yellow of police caution tape.
As I stepped out of the Sheriffs truck the first thing that hit me was a smell not unlike that which was at the “bad stone” earlier in the day. In fact, not quite unlike the smell at Wally’s cabin the night before. I looked over at the Sheriff and from the puzzled look on his face and the flaring of his nostrils I knew he smelled something sour too. Which was quite a feat for a man who’s been chain smoking since we left in the Country truck earlier today.
I hadn’t realized how cold I had become within the last 24 hours, I hadn’t realized how horrible the things I had seen had been in the last day until I walked up to the spot where little Rachel had died. Green grass, crimson blood, yellow hair, and a white sheet that seemed way to big to cover such a small body. Next to her Dick Whatley stood with such an intense silence above her body that when I looked up into his eyes I felt like he might shoot me on the spot if I lifted that sheet.
I said nothing to Dick, he was not going to tell me anything anyways. Be it shell shock or a sense of duty to a fallen lamb. I just stood up and walked over to Nathan Collier who was coversing with the two ambulance drivers. As I looked back over my shoulder Dick still held his stance, like a graveyard sentinal keeping evil spirits from an innocent soul.
As I approached Nate, he turned from whatever conversation he was having and took off his hat to scratch his head “Terrible day we’ve got huh, Willy?”
I hadn’t seen Nate yet that day but from the stubble on his face you could tell Lisa, trying to help me out, called him in this morning unaware.
“This unfortunately is the half of it.” I sighed and looked back at Dick and the white sheet hiding the tragedy of the hour. ”He been like that long?”
“He was the first one here. He’s the one who found all of this and called for back-up. When I arrived he was standing right there with that look on his face, and it hasn’t changed since.”
“Any idea why?”
“Dick’s a pretty religious man. I myself am not the best member of the church, but if I found what he did. I’d be doing same I’d bet.”
“What do mean?” I turned around and saw the look of glassy eyed fear I’d been seeing since last night.
“Follow me.”
I tapped Sheriff Kummer on the shoulder who had followed me over to talk to the EMPs and we both follwed Nate towards the woods. We walked past the corpse of Rachel’s horse which had managed to get far enough away from her body to die of shock, but not enough to rub the blood from its hooves. Rotting flesh was permeating the air more and more the close we came towards the first trees of the forest. The hairs were standing up all over my body as I began to see too many correlations between this and what I had earlier in the day. I damn near leaped out of my skin when I heard the sound of the Sheriff opening his lighter to fire up another cigarette.
Nate led us along the brush along the woods a few yards until we hit a small clearing in it leading inside. He hunched down and walked through it motioning with one hand for us to follow. I leaned down and followed him in when just inside I was hit with a stench so fowl I nearly wreched right there on the spot. It was a small pocket in the dense woods filled with what seemed to be the corpses of several hundred cats all in various states of decay. A small round stone in the center seemed to be the place of their demise from the dried black blood that covered it.
“Did the Cole’s have any clue this was in here.” I just stared in disbelief at the charnel surroundings of the place.
“Other than noticing a sharp decline in the amount of farm cats recently, no.” Nate had put a hankercheif to his mouth to try and block out the smell.
“What do you think of this Sheriff?” Sheriff Kummer was trying to kick the remains of a calico out of his way to get a position in the place.
“Satanists. I went to a Sheriffs convention in Madison last year about it.” He finally got the fur covered skeleton out of his way, nearly falling over in the process. “Seems Wisconsin is of the number one states for cult behavior of this kind. Some place round Lake Mills just reported something like this not to long ago.”
Nate just looked at me like this was a little too weird to be dismissed like that. I felt it too, but it was a ritualistic thing that was happening here. The blood covered stone proved that. I told Nate to get his camera and we all left. Bob Cole had a back-hoe in his garage and I figured after today, that spot was not going to be in the hidden darkness of the woods for much longer.
I stuck around long enough for me and Nate to coerce Dick to get in his truck while the EMPs zipped poor Rachel into a bag to take her away. Dick seemed noticibly releived as the ambulance bounced its way out of the feild towards the farmhouse. I then left the both of them to take pictures and ask the Coles if any of their boys had been listening to any Slayer records and wearing black lately.
As we bounced out of the field in the Sheriff’s truck I grabbed his pack of smokes from the center console and lit one up. The Sheriff just looked at me like I just pulled a frog out of my eye socket.
“Thought you didn’t smoke those things Willie?”
“I quit when I was twenty Rich.” I held the cigarette on it’s end in front of my face contemplating the lit end. “After today I need one.”
The Sheriff just laughed and steered the truck through the field gates and out of the Cole’s driveway. As we passed the barn I looked in and noticed the diesel backhoe idling blue diesel smoke from it’s stacks and Bob jumping up into the cab.
----------------------------------------------------------
I was relieved when Sheriff Kummer dropped me off in front of the brick façade of the police station. My day with him had worn my patience and hurt my lungs. He yelled something about he’ll be seeing me “real” soon as I slammed the door behind me. I personally hoped I wouldn’t see him until election time again. I stood staring at the red door that led into the station as he pulled away and began to think that the last thing I wanted to do is continue to serve and protect.
No comments:
Post a Comment