Silas: A Supernatural Thriller (43 page)

“We’re home,” she said.

“Yeah, Molly, we are,” I replied.

We walked through the woods for the better part of two hours. Silas collapsed halfway through our journey. He’d been weaving like a drunk ever since we passed through the portal, the exhaustion and loss of blood finally catching up with him. I let go of Molly’s hand and scooped him up. I watched the direction the sun was moving and headed east, where the land sloped downward. If we were indeed in the
Green Mountains
, there’d be civilization somewhere down there at the bottom of the rise. Or so I hoped. I didn’t know how much longer I could go on with Silas’s heavy weight balanced on my weak and shaking arms. Hell, with the amount of trauma he’d experienced, I didn’t know how much longer he could hold out without some sort of medical attention.

“It’s okay, buddy,” I whispered with a trembling voice into his floppy ear. “You’re gonna be okay.”

He moaned in reply, his head, flopped over to the side, not moving at all.

Finally, when daylight started to wane, our exhausted troop found a paved road. Kaiser and Will looked at this in wonder, as if they’d never seen such a thing before, which I guess they never had. We followed the street signs south, heading for West Dover, and I said
thank you
for two more reasons, firstly that we were still near Mount Snow, where Silas and I had first discovered Nick Goodman’s van on the abandoned side street, and secondly because there were no cars on the road. Given how the boys reacted to finding themselves in a world that hadn’t been decimated by rising tides and invading creatures from alternate dimensions, I didn’t know how they’d react to seeing an actual automobile.

It didn’t take long for signs of life to emerge. First came a succession of boarded-up shanties, and then the road widened, leading us into the town proper. I heard Kaiser whistle when he saw the buildings and houses on either side of the street. This time a car did pass us – a beaten-up old Chrysler covered with rust – and sure enough they boys jumped back as if they’d seen a monster. I did my best to explain that they had nothing to worry about, but I don’t think my mind was working well enough to give them an intelligible argument. I was too weary, from my pain, fatigue, and the worry I felt over the fading, precious bundle in my arms.

We stopped at the first convenience store we came across. I placed Silas on the curb and stroked his matted, blood-drenched fur. His breathing was much shallower than before, as if he’d fallen into a deep sleep. I chewed on my lip, wiping my hands on Ben’s sweat-and-blood-drenched jumpsuit. I then proceeded to take the key and disk from my pocket. Both were dull now, like ancient trinkets found at an antique shop. Only when I pointed them at the girls, Will, and Kaiser, did it give off any type of glow, and it was faint, at that. I placed the two items on the ground, unzipped the jumper, stepped out of it, and put them in the pocket of my pants. Being back in nothing but my outfit of old jeans and a tee shirt, on permanent loan from the departed Paul Nicely, I wondered why I didn’t think to do so sooner. I lifted my shirt and checked the bandages. The wounds on my chest had bled through, creating a patchwork of red splotches.

I checked my reflection in the convenience store window to make sure I looked presentable. My cheeks were swollen and my face was a mess of cuts and bruises, but it would have to do. I then called the group over. We huddled together, girls sitting on the curb while Will and Kaiser hovered over them.

“Listen, I have to tell you guys something. I’m going to go in there and talk to the clerk. He’ll call the authorities for us. The cops will be here in no time after that, so we have to get our story straight.”

“What story is that?” asked Will in a skeptical tone.

I blew air out of my nose and continued. “No one here will ever believe it if we tell them what actually happened. So we have to make it up. We have to make this as realistic as possible, so we all won’t get thrown in the loony bin. You understand?”

There were nods all around. Even from Will, who looked like he’d finally found the solution to some long-troublesome math equation.

“Okay, then, here’s what we’re going to say…”

When I finished a simplified version of the story I invented in my head, and felt confident everyone knew what to say, I gave Silas one last pat on the head and stood up. I walked to the front of the convenience store and pushed through the door. The guy behind the counter was old, his face was weathered and creased. He pinched a lit cigar between his teeth and eyed me with suspicion as I approached the counter.

“What can I do ya for?” he asked, his accent thick, when I rested my hands on the counter. “You sure been out there a long while. And what’s with them girls? You ain’t no kidnapper there, are ya?”

I shook my head and couldn’t help but laugh. “No sir,” I said between giggles. “It’s actually the opposite. I was wondering if you could call the police for me, preferably
Staties
.”

The old man’s eyebrows rose. “Why would that be?”

“Well, my name’s Ken Lowery, and I’ve been –”

I was halted by the old man putting up his hand. His eyes widened and the cigar dropped from his mouth, bouncing on the counter. Ashes and glowing remnants of tobacco scattered.

“Hold on,” he said. “
You’re
Ken Lowery?”

I nodded, dumbly this time.

The old man picked up the phone. His arched fingers recklessly punched the buttons. A wide grin stretched across his grizzled face.

“My boy, you sure have caused a fuss ‘round here,” he said. “There’s been folks
scourin
’ the mountains for days. I can’t believe you’re still alive.”

Though I didn’t say so, I completely agreed with him.

66

Soon after the clerk (whose name was Terry, I discovered) made the call, nine squad cars arrived at the little gas station in
West Dover
,
Vermont
. Two ambulances, a fire truck, three unmarked police cars, and at least six media vans showed up, as well. The paramedics tended to my many injuries and checked on the welfare of Will, Kaiser, and the girls. They even went so far as to give Silas medical attention, bandaging his wounds and doing their best to attach an oxygen mask over his snout. The lead medic called the local vet – at home, no less – and assured me that Silas would be well taken care of. I asked about Wendy, if someone could possibly call her, that I needed to speak with her. They assured me they’d do it later.

After that I was led away from the others and interviewed by two detectives and two guys in suits I assumed to be FBI. I told the story of how I’d followed Nick Goodman all the way from Mercy Hills, how he’d ambushed Silas and me when we pulled up next to his van. According to my story, the next thing I knew I was in a shack somewhere hidden in the mountain, tied up and gagged alongside the girls. I told them how I’d been tossed into an underground shelter and left to rot for three days before Silas chewed through the ropes that bound me and I broke free. Then I charged into the shack and attacked the kidnapper from behind. He defended himself with a steel garden rake (to explain the gouges in my chest), and we all would’ve been goners if not for my brave boy, who sacrificed himself by leaping on the large man’s back, holding him off while the girls and I escaped.

The one part of the story I wasn’t so sure about were Will and Kaiser. The authorities of course knew about Amanda, Tina, Laura, and Molly, but the boys were another story. To explain this away I said they’d told me the guy had raised them since birth, probably the result of another kidnapping a long time ago, so they knew nothing of life apart from that hidden shack. Luckily neither Kaiser nor Will knew anything about this version of Earth, so that made the story somewhat plausible.

The cops seemed to buy it, though they still wouldn’t let me call Wendy. After some time I was led back to the center of the parking lot. The girls had gathered around a middle-aged woman whose auburn hair was tied back in a bun. She introduced herself as Sally, a representative of Connecticut Child Services. She told me how there had been a massive manhunt for me over the last four days, a combined effort between
Connecticut
and
Vermont
authorities. After yesterday, they’d almost given up on finding me, so for me to show up then, and with the missing girls no less, was just short of a miracle. I nodded in agreement.

The sun disappeared behind the mountains, but the streetlights and flashbulbs from the rather large crowd that had gathered made it seem like daytime. I endured even more questioning, as did the kids, until I felt like my head was going to explode. The police at least stopped the media from approaching me. The last thing I wanted was a camera in my face.

Finally I was led to one of the unmarked cars and shown to the back seat. The girls were loaded into a van with
Connecticut
government-issued license plates and driven away. I saw them wave at me from the rear window as they disappeared down the road. I smiled and waved back, hoping they could see the gesture from the darkened backseat. I did the same with Kaiser and Will, who were driven away in a similar van, this one with
Vermont
plates. The cops assured me they’d be placed in the foster care program and given a good life while officials searched for their true families. I wished them luck in that fruitless endeavor.

Before too long, the cops left and the crowd dispersed until only the unmarked coupe I sat in and a squad car were still in front of the convenience store. Silas had been taken away by the veterinarian to a clinic in a nearby town. The detective who’d interviewed me chatted with his partner, and then they both walked over to me and got into the car. The one who sat in the driver’s seat had his phone in his hand.

“There’s someone on the line for you,” he said.

“My wife?” I asked.

He nodded.

I reached over the seat and took the phone from his hand. Placing the receiver to my ear I breathed a nervous sigh.

“Kenny?” Wendy’s voice asked.

I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. They came fast and free, reducing me to a blubbering mess.

Not that I was complaining any.

67

It turned out I didn’t have to wait long to see my wife. Wendy had been staying at a hotel in
Brattleboro
during the manhunt. It was at this hotel that the detectives dropped me off.

She waited for me outside the front door, cell phone in hand. Her dark hair glistened in the light beneath the awning. She looked pale and fatigued, but her eyes were alert. As I stepped out of the car her body shook. She leaned from one foot to the other and her lips trembled.

“Your face,” she whispered, staring at me.

I took her hands in mine and stood before her without saying a word. We stared into each other’s eyes for quite some time. Gradually her shaking stopped. I brushed a stray hair from her cheek and she leaned into my hand. It reminded me so much of the way Silas reacted when I did the same thing to him, back when he was a boy. A moment of sorrow cramped my stomach, not to mention regret. That moment, back in the strange other world, was my experience and mine alone. There was no way Wendy could ever know. It wasn’t so much that she wouldn’t believe me – which she probably wouldn’t – but that she couldn’t understand what it meant for me to not have that feeling anymore.

She squinted and one side of her lips creased. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

I pulled her into me and wrapped my arms around her. “I just missed you,” I said.

“You did?” I could hear sobs entering her tone.

“More than you’ll ever know,” I replied.