Author: K.L. Barnes
Category: Suspense
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/kl-barnes/page,7,22563-pay-attention.html
They passed through the small town of Mesa where the churches actually had steeples with real bells, and Ben could imagine the deep chorus that would ring from those high towers. Green roofed cabins and old log farmhouses dotted the landscape, the whole scene reminiscent of a bygone era when people lived solely by working the land. Counting on the help of their neighbors for their survival.
Continuing on through the small community, they could both feel the popping in their ears as the altitude drastically increased.
Ben slowed and made a westerly turn from Highway sixty five into the Mesa Lakes area. He had read somewhere that there were as many as one hundred mountain lakes to explore.
The “resort” sat right off of the road and was really nothing more than a cluster of tiny little one room bungalows built from cut logs painted a rusty red. They could see more of them peeking through the trees and Ben wondered how often the cabins were actually rented to capacity.
Views this high up were truly breathtaking, and he finally pulled the bike to a stop along the edge of a small body of water with a sign identifying it as Beaver Lake. He dug through the saddle bags and pulled out his camera, anxious as ever to start recording the natural beauty that surrounded him. Jason walked to the edge of the water and started skipping stones across the smooth flat surface, looking to Ben as if he might actually be enjoying himself.
Ben snapped photos of everything in sight, trying to capture a sense of the habitat that was home to so many different species of wildlife.
“Hey, Jase,” Ben called. “I’m going to walk down the trail a ways. Do you want to come with me?”
“Okay, hang on a minute,” Jason called back and then came running up the bank to stop at the big black motorcycle. He opened the saddle bags and stuffed the over large pockets of his jeans with two bottles of water and a handful of granola bars.
“The trail map says if we follow this around to the end we’ll run into Lost Lake.” Jason was speaking with the most enthusiasm Ben had heard from him in a long time.
“I wonder why they call it Lost Lake,” Ben mused as he started off on the trail. Checking his pack as he walked, making sure he had plenty of battery life and a spare in his pack for the new digital camera he had just recently started using, he thought how tough it had been to give up the ritual of switching out film all day long.
The two of them walked for nearly an hour, winding around the south west tip of Mesa Lake and on past South Mesa Lake, talking softly in the hushed atmosphere and taking pictures as they went. The area offered year round cabins for rent but due to the fact that it was no longer summer - the colorful fall leaves were long gone - and there wasn’t yet any snow on the ground, they saw few people hiking the trails or fishing in the abundant lakes. At nearly ten thousand feet in elevation Ben was starting to huff just a little in the thin air.
Lost Lake was nestled in a forest of Spruce trees and was almost invisible until they stepped out at the top of the trail.
They stood and stared in awe at the perfection that suddenly loomed before them. After a time, Ben started shooting frames of the panoramic view that spread out for miles in every direction. Framing a shot across the lake, he picked up signs of what looked like a cabin in the far distance and zoomed in for better detail. Sure enough, a well tended rustic cabin sat far back from the edge of the water with a deck that wrapped around the two sides that he could see from his position.
Ben was more than a little awed by the sight and his voice was soft as he asked, “How would you like to have your own place clear out here at the top of the world?”
“Let me see,” said Jason eagerly, holding his hand out for the camera as Ben passed it over to him. He pointed out the general area and waited for Jason to focus in on the little mountain paradise.
“Cool,” Jason said with a bright smile. “Maybe it’s one of the resort cabins and we could stay there for a few days.”
Something about the cabin was familiar but Ben couldn’t put his finger on it.
I think I’ve seen a picture of this place before,” Ben said. “Maybe it was on a brochure at the hotel or something.” He focused in on the perfect angle, making sure he highlighted the intricate stonework of the fireplace, and took the shot as he mentally chewed on the niggling sense that he had been here before.
They walked around the lake a bit longer and then headed back to where they had left the bike. It was still early enough in the day, so they turned south at the sixty five and headed on out toward Land’s End
*****
Chapter 12
The dream came again, this time more urgent, and more insistent than ever before. Maeve was back in the house, moving toward the mirror that covered the left wall. She stared at the face of so many years ago and watched as the button boots and Victorian dress of a young girl began to fade away. She felt herself fading as well, drifting into the glass to appear on the other side. They were there, grouped around the fireplace and she sought the warm eyes of the woman who would show her the answer. The woman reached her hands out in that pleading gesture and then turned her eyes toward a tall young man standing in the shadows. She knew this man but her memory of him was vague. What was this woman trying to tell her?
And then she was outside, standing near a mist-shrouded lake, the cry of an owl drawing her gaze into the woods behind her. A man walked silently from the trees with his hands outstretched, beckoning her toward him. She tried to go to him but she couldn’t move. She reached her arms out to him but he came no closer, just turned and looked at a tall boy who was standing near. The boy was handsome, like the man, with thick dark hair and chiseled features. She had seen him before but his hair had been different. Now it was pulled back into a sleek pony tail where before it had been standing on end in a two foot tall Mohawk. She was afraid for him but didn’t know why, and she began to shake from the fear and cold.
Maeve came awake with the realization that she was shivering with cold and her shoulders ached from being stretched behind her back. She hated being cold more than anything and she figured that if she ever did anything really bad in her life, her punishment would surely be death by freezing. She practiced a little trick she used often, breathing deeply while telling her body over and over that she was comfortable and warm. Eventually the shivering abated and she opened her eyes.
She hadn’t thought about the dream in years and wondered why it had come back to her now, of all times. Then she remembered the tall young man who stood hidden in the shadows. She couldn’t recall seeing him there before, but it had been many years and she didn’t trust her memory with the details from her childhood.
Claire was lying next to her, curled up in a ball and looking at Maeve from sleep filled eyes.
“Good morning.” Maeve said and snuggled close.
“Is it still morning?” Claire said as she pulled away and sat up.
“I had a weird dream,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “I don’t know why but I dreamed about the boy with the Mohawk we saw at the mall.”
Maeve was quiet for a brief second and then, “what did you dream about him?’ She asked the question carefully to keep her voice from giving her away.
“He was standing in some trees and you were telling me to go with him, but I didn’t want to leave you,” she said in a hushed voice. “And that was all.”
Torei had come awake at some point during their short conversation and reached around to give Claire a hug.
“It’s going to be okay Claire, maybe we’ll get to go home today.” She said reassuringly.
“We’re going to do everything we can to try and make that happen,” Maeve said, wrapping her body around the girls as best she could.
What were the chances that she and Claire had dreamed about the same thing at the same time?
Maybe it was just that they were both on the verge of waking and their minds remembered the odd sight of the kid with the Mohawk. Maybe Claire in her youth and Maeve in her old age had both developed a crush on the ki
d too, but she highly doubted it.
Maeve stood up from the bed, taking in her surroundings and wondered if there was a camera hidden in the room somewhere so that their captor could observe them. Maybe even hear them. She began searching the corners, under the furniture and anywhere she thought a device might be hidden. She didn’t find anything obvious and chided herself for reading too many stories about kidnapped heroines and psycho killers.
She gave herself a mental head slap. Well, this room wasn’t her imagination and neither was the man responsible for them being here. She was sure, too, that she wasn’t making up the sore muscles or the bruises on her feet and even though she couldn’t see her hands, she could feel her swollen fingers and the burning where the sharp splinters still pierced her skin.
Footsteps approached the door at the top of the stairs and Maeve moved her body to shield the girls, who were lying huddled together on the bed.
The door opened and the young girl who had dropped the food into the cellar was there at the top of the stairs.
“Lunch is ready,” she said and turned to walk away.
She looked so much like Claire that it was disconcerting at first, but her overlarge eyes were ringed with dark shadows and her stooped shoulders gave the impression that the girl was ill somehow.
Maeve considered leaving Torei and Claire in the room until she knew exactly what was going on but thought better of it in case they were given a chance to escape. She would never run away without the girls and she might lose her chance if she had to come back for them. So she took them by the hand and led them up the stairs behind her where she stood quietly for a moment, listening to the sounds of clattering silverware, and remembered that the kitchen must be to the left.
She started to step to the right but was brought up short at the sight of a boy standing just down the hall. He seemed to be about sixteen or seventeen and though tall and dark complected, he had the same bruised and bulging eyes, insubstantial frame, and the same tortured expression as the girl.
And next to him was a rifle perched against the wall, only inches from his hand. She considered him for a moment, and deciding she would never get past him, turned left and walked hesitantly into the room where she stood staring at the faces assembled there. Another teenage boy was seated at the large round table, and other than the fact that he was a healthy teenager, there was no mistaking the fact that he and the boy in the hall were twins. The girl was getting plates from a cupboard and the tall, lumbering man from the night before was cooking on a grill top range. He turned when she entered and pointed with a spatula to three empty chairs arranged around the table.
“What is this about?” Maeve asked defiantly, not about to let her guard down for one second.
“It’s lunch time. Well, past breakfast and early for lunch if you want the truth. We waited as long as we could and then figured you’d had enough rest for the time being.” The man replied as if it were a typical day in any kitchen anywhere in the world.
Maeve’s temper began to flare but she bit back her anger for the moment and tried to sound reasonable in the face of her fear.
“I think you misunderstand me,” she stated very clearly. “I would like to know why you have brought me here, along with my daughters, and kept us against our will.”
The man turned from the stove and looked at her earnestly. She was taken aback by the strangeness of his eyes. They were dark and disturbing with heavy eyebrows that rose up sharply on the ends, adding to the evil impression that made her think of the devil.
“I am Joseph, and these here are my boys, Carl and Joseph Jr.” Then he added with a solemn nod, “I think you’ve met my daughter, Faye.”
Joseph Jr. had followed them into the kitchen and she looked at each of the children in turn. The boys were around sixteen and looked very much like their father. Carl was tall and well muscled with blue black hair parted and slicked to the side. He had that same tilt to his brows and something shone in his eyes that caused the small hairs on the back of Maeve’s neck to stand on end.
Faye and Joseph Jr., on the other hand, were frail and had an unhealthy pallor, but gentleness shone from beneath the fear and pain that touched her completely. Concern momentarily overrode her fear and anger and her heart filled with compassion for these children who were obviously ill and in need of medical attention. She almost said as much, but instinctively knew that it would be a mistake.
“We must practice our manners and share a meal before we discuss important matters,” Joseph proclaimed in that odd manner of his as he again motioned them to the table. He waived the spatula like a kings’ scepter and Joseph Jr. reached over to free her hands.
Things seemed to be getting stranger all the time. Maybe she was losing her perspective, but Maeve found that she was starving and knew the girls must be as well, so she seated them and then herself, reasoning that they would need their strength for when the time came to leave.
Venison stew and fresh baked bread were set at the table and when everyone was seated, Joseph held out his hand for Carl to pass his plate. He filled each plate in the same manner and then proceeded to eat in silence.
It was a quiet, unnerving meal with very little conversation. The children ate with their heads down, all except for Carl, who looked boldly at Maeve and methodically scooped his food into his mouth, pointedly chewing each bite.
Maeve’s eyes widened when realization dawned. But just as she was about to speak, Torei turned away from the table, groaning, and then promptly threw up on the floor.
“Oh no!” Claire cried. “Torei are you okay?” she asked as she jumped out of her chair. “I think she needs to lie down.”
Joseph looked at Faye and she rose from the table as well.
“I’ll take her,” the girl offered as she came around the table. “You come too.” This she said to Claire who was on her feet and holding Torei by her shoulders.
“No!” Maeve ordered, jumping to her feet, but Joseph nodded to Faye and she started to move away, leading the girls out of the kitchen.
“They will be just fine. They won’t be harmed,” he assured her. “You have my promise on that.”
“There is someone I’d like you to meet.” He reached over and picked up a long rifle that had been resting against the wall and just like that he walked away, confident that she would follow.
Maeve followed Joseph down a long hall past the mud room and the basement where she and the girls had been kept, past three closed doors on the left side of the hall and then out a screen door to a set of steps.
They were standing outside a cabin surrounded by a tall forest of pines and thick low growing shrubs. He walked a short distance to an old adobe building that had probably been used for feed and tack at some time in the distant past.
Maeve’s shoes had been taken from her when she was unconscious in the cellar and now she hobbled gingerly over the uneven ground on bare feet, following Joseph who was obviously unconcerned that she might try to run away into the trees.
He unlocked the heavy wooden door and stepped inside, then motioned for her to follow him. He stopped in the center of the shed and lowered his bulk to one knee, then slipped a heavy curved piece of metal out of a steel loop that was mounted to a solid wood trap door. With an effort he pushed himself up again and lifted the plank, peering over the edge with a satisfied nod of his head.
Maeve immediately backed away, her first thought being that he intended to stick her in another hole and watch her fight her way out. He cupped his hand and pulled his fingers toward his wrist in a ‘come here’ motion. Maeve froze in place and slowly moved her head from side to side, letting him know that she had no intention of going without a fight.
“Don’t be foolish now” he said. “These accommodations are already being used by another guest.”
Maeve could hear shuffling down below now and concern, along with a morbid curiosity, had her moving to the edge of the opening. The smell of rot and feces almost had her moving away again, bu
t she could see a dirt floor where the light filtered down, and then a man stepped into her vision and looked up with a startled gaze through round rimless glasses.
“Miss Tidewell,” Joseph introduced politely. “Meet Dr. Glenn Makula.”
Mr. Binyon,” the doctor nodded in recognition. “I implore you to let me out of here or make your intentions clear.”
“It should be very clear to you by this point, ‘Doctor.’” Joseph practically spat the word.
“Those children need care, Joseph. You have to let me out of here!”
Makula was nearly shouting in an effort to get through to the large formidable figure looming above him. He demanded again to be let out of the hole only to have Joseph drop the door soundly and snap the lock into place. He turned and walked deliberately back toward the cabin with Maeve following directly on his heels.
“Dr. Makula was reported missing Sunday, I saw it in the paper yesterday,” Maeve observed. “Someone will be looking for him by now don’t you think? Joseph, you have to let him out of there!”
“The good doctor is here to benefit from your presence,” he stated. “We will discuss details when we are more comfortable.”
It had grown cold again as the wind kicked up and the thin sweater she had thrown over her top last night didn’t offer much in the way of warmth. Was it really only last night? It seemed a lifetime ago since she’d felt safe and comfortable.
“You have to let us go, Joseph. The police are eventually going to figure out what you’ve done. Do you want to spend the rest of your life in prison?” Joseph just laughed quietly at her as she stood hugging herself against the cold.
“I know who you are now, Joseph.” The flat statement took him off guard. Joseph’s large frame came to a stop at the bottom of the steps. He turned slowly to stare at her, his expressionless gaze boring into her own.
“I knew you had the gift when you were a girl. I seen it then. Come, there’ll be coffee waiting.” And he strode away into the house, leaving her to trail behind.