Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The Surge

When Monday arrived, Mr. Carter once again approached me to ask me about taking over the Juliet part. I stared over his shoulder, not wanting to see the disappointment on his face when I told him no. I opened my mouth to decline, but suddenly I saw Ian. He was looking at me intently and his eyes seemed to be begging me to say yes instead.

"N-yes," I stammered, surprising myself even more than Mr. Carter.

"Well…great!" he said, clearly confused by my unusual behavior, but pleased all the same. He announced the change at the beginning of class. There was a little reshuffling to do so that someone could fill in my old part, but finally everyone was settled.

We picked up reading where Lisa and Ian had left off, was it just days ago? After two days of reading, Mr. Carter became so enthusiastic that he moved Ian and me to chairs in the front of the room. I kept waiting for him to reveal that he had secretly built a balcony set and try to force us into costumes. But he was kind of right. Ian and I were really clicking and the rest of the class seemed to feel it, too. Everyone's lines were delivered with more feeling than ever before. We left each class smiling and chatting amiably, the mood lightening with each successive day.

I began to actually enjoy school for the first time in my life. I was even getting along with most of my classmates. Drama helped immensely. I was actually pretty good at reading Juliet. The days breezed by and before we knew it, we were facing Thanksgiving break. Excitement was building. Everyone was anxious for a break. Fall was in full swing and the tree-lined avenues were canopied with a profusion of red, gold, orange, and brown. It was like walking under a patchwork quilt. We couldn't wait for a few days off to enjoy it.

Then, like the aftershocks of an earthquake, our little town was shaken again. Two weeks after Lisa disappeared, the body of a homeless man was found behind a dumpster in the alley that parallels Appleton Avenue. His body had been completely drained of blood and this time the corpse had been mutilated. The article in the paper this time told of decapitation and the authorities were baffled. If there was cult involvement, why escalate to mutilation? If there was no cult, why were they taking the blood? What kind of person steels blood? Parents panicked. Memos went home from school advising heightened vigilance. The town even toyed with instituting a mandatory curfew until the lunatic was caught. It might have helped, if they had done it. But in the end, personal rights and freedoms superceded group security and the town did nothing. They just sat back and waited for someone to tell them that the villain had been caught and the danger had passed.

A week after the homeless man, two hikers staying at the Honeysuckle B&B disappeared on the north face trail. They left in the morning with plans to picnic on the trail and return in time for dinner. They never came back.

The next week it was a co-ed from the college in town that went missing on her way across campus. Her dorm mate said she was headed to do some laundry and get some dinner at the dining hall. Police searched both locations, as well as the grounds to and from each. There was no sign of the student, not even her laundry. Search dogs were taken to the campus and the surrounding woods, but no discernable trail could be discovered. It was Lisa all over again.

The pattern of disappearances continued, one or two people vanishing each week. Parents in town stopped letting their teenagers out at night, regardless of what the town council decided. The local diner was empty. The shops all but closed up. The movie house had to cancel several showings after dark because there simply were not enough paying customers. Nor was there sufficient staff, as the students who worked in the evenings were forced by their parents to take leaves of absence until the killer was caught.

My mother was no different. She instituted "family time" as an excuse, but the bald truth was that she refused to let Jenna or I out of her sight. We even did our homework at the kitchen table under her surreptitiously watchful eye. Suddenly, our kitchen needed to be cleaned for two hours every night. When Jenna and I moved to the living room to watch t.v. (translate: fight over the remote control), Mom suddenly realized that she needed to dust the knick knacks on the mantle. Every night.

We watched the news together every night at ten. Every night it grew more grim. Elkins seemed to be in the grips of a serial killer, perhaps more than one. As more and more people disappeared, we kept expecting to see reports of bodies recovered, but only a few were. They were always the same now: no blood, no head. Then it became immeasurably worse.

"Linda, I'm reporting to you live from Elkins, a small town midway between Charleston, West Virginia and Washington D.C., where authorities are baffled by what appears to be a surge in crime, possibly linked to the activities of a serial killer." The pretty blonde reporter from Channel 8 was standing in front of the Elkins High gym. As we sat on the couch, watching the news cast, the three of us wore identical expressions of shock and horror.

"As you can see, behind me," she continued, "I am at the scene of the most recently discovered body in this crime wave: that of thirteen year old Christopher Gage." We could see the coroner in the background standing next to a sheet-covered mound. The police and crime scene investigators swarmed over the area taking pictures and ducking their heads to talk privately.

"Young Christopher disappeared only this morning on his way to school," the reporter continued. "The killer who, until now, seems to have stalked the darkness, has become bold enough to strike in the light of day, on a city street, leaving parents to wonder if there is anywhere safe left in the town of Elkins.

"This is Connie Roberts reporting live for Channel 8 News. Linda."

The camera returned to the studio where the two anchor reporters had adopted suitably somber expressions.

"Thank you Connie," replied the anchor, Linda. "We're told that the local sheriff's office is offering a reward for information leading to the capture of the unknown perpetrator." She quickly and brightly segued into the weather report and we sat in dumb silence.

Mom shooed us off to bed at 10:30, and I lay on my bed thinking for several hours after that. I was in shock. Any one could be next. If whoever did this would attack a little kid in broad daylight in a public place, what would stop them from snatching anyone from anywhere?

I slept in on Saturday. A minor luxury, I know, but it was one that I enjoyed. I could hear Jenna downstairs, fighting with Mom. Jenna wasn't taking well to house arrest. She argued that she would die if she didn't go out and it would save the serial killer the trouble. Mom dropped something that crashed to the floor with the tinkle of shattering china and a low oath.

"Don't you ever say anything like that ever again!" Mom's muffled voice was barley audible, but clearly furious.

"Mom!" Jenna sobbed, protesting the inevitable end of her argument.

"Just go upstairs for a while," Mom ordered, and I could hear the deep breaths she used to try to calm herself down. Jenna went storming up the stairs and passed my room still ranting, all be it under her breath. I made my way down stairs to check on Mom. She was on her knees in the kitchen, ostensibly to clean up the broken crockery. But she wasn't cleaning. Her face was in her hands and she was obviously crying, and just as obviously trying to be quiet about it.

"Mom?" I asked and I saw her stiffen and begin scraping broken chunks of glass into a pile. I barely caught sight of her surreptitiously swipe at the tears on her face. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, honey, I'm fine." Her voice trembled just a bit. I walked over to her and knelt beside her to help. "I've got it, babe. You go on."

"Mom?" I began, unsure of myself. "Mom, it's going to be o.k. Maybe not right away, but it will be. Jenna and I will be just fine." She finely looked at me and I could see the traces of the tears she hadn't been able to erase in that one stealthy gesture. "She's just mad, she'll get over it, and someday she'll even appreciate it," I promised, praying that Jenna would eventually gain the maturity that I was crediting her for.

"Thanks, sweetie." She smiled a wobbling smile and hugged me over the pile of broken glass. I hugged her back and we finished cleaning up.

"Mom? This may not be the best time to bring this up." I was hesitant, but hopeful.

"What is it?" She sounded suspicious. Not an auspicious beginning.

"Well," I hedged, "you know, I'm sixteen now, and it's not exactly safe to be walking to school these days…" I only felt slightly guilty at playing the "I'm scared of being kidnapped by the serial killer" card.

"What Becca?" I could hear the skepticism in her voice.

"Well, I have a little money saved up for a car, and if you could help me with the rest, I could pay you back, you know, once I get a job." I saw her expression start to harden and I rushed on, hoping to head off an outright refusal. "Not that that would be any time soon. I mean, obviously, with what's going on right now, but I know that you'd feel better about me driving to school than walking…" and here I laid out my final weapon, "alone." I let all of my grief over Reed moving wash back up into my eyes and I saw her will begin to crumple.

"I'll think about it," she hedged, but I could tell I had already won.

"Thanks, Mom," I smiled.

I had been sitting on a small bundle of savings for two years now. I had squirreled away almost two thousand dollars of allowance, birthday, Christmas and babysitting money, and any quarters that I found under the couch. It wasn't enough to buy anything fancy, but I was hoping that Mom could chip in enough to get me a decent, reliable, non-embarrassing used car that would get me around town. Jenna would be mad, but she really didn't have a leg to stand on. She had never saved so much as a plug nickel. Every time she got any money, she had it mentally allocated by the time it left the envelope. Mom had already told her that if she wanted any help buying a car, she would have to save some money on her own. Jenna just laughed: she was fine riding with friends, and her friends didn't seem to mind either. I, on the other hand, was determined to be the master of my own fate rather than relying on the good will of my friends.

I started checking the classified ads in the paper weekly. The best ads were always in the Sunday paper, but there were still plenty to peruse throughout the week. I "accidentally" left the paper on the kitchen table a few times with potentially good deals circled in red ink. After a few days, the paper started to look as if it was bleeding and Mom made me leave it on the desk in my room. After two weeks, Mom seemed about to start pulling out her hair. My hints hadn't been exactly subtle.

"All right, all ready! Becca, get your coat. We're going car shopping."

"Yes!" I shouted and ran to comply before she could change her mind.

We visited the three used car lots in town, but we didn't find anything that we could agree on in my price range. Mom had agreed to match my own two thousand dollars, giving me a budget of four thousand. Since I would still have to pay tax, tag it, and secure insurance, I figured I could spend about three thousand. It wasn't going to be a sexy car, but it shouldn't be embarrassing, either. I was hoping for a nice, plain Nissan, maybe a Toyota. We gave up for the day when we found ourselves arguing over an ancient Volvo that had once been brown, but had faded to a muddy beige. There was no way I was driving that monster to school.

The following Sunday, I was perusing the classifieds, and there it was.

1975 VW Beetle, engine mods, runs great,

new tires, plugs, belts, etc. No A/C, needs

paint, rough interior. Reliable 2500, obo

It was perfect. It was quirky enough to have character, but normal enough to keep my Mom happy. I wasn't too concerned about paint. I was thinking, maybe I could get the auto body repair class at the Vo-Tech to paint it cheap. Plus, it was already five hundred dollars below my estimated budget, meaning I would have money left over for fixing it up.

I grabbed the page with the ad and ran to the phone. I called the number listed at the bottom of the ad and inquired if it had been sold yet.

"No, not yet. You're the first call I've gotten." I sighed in relief and asked if I could come by and look at it. We agreed to a time that afternoon and I hung up to find my Mom. I found her in the back yard, pulling weeds from a flowerbed that seemed to be nothing but. I showed her the ad and told her about the appointment for that afternoon.

"I don't know Becca," she began. "I don't think those cars are known for being very safe. I want you to have something that I won't worry about you in."

"Mom," I could hear the whine in my voice, "I'm a very careful person. It's not a long drive to school, I can't get into much more than a fender bender, if anything. I promise, I just want to look, I won't make a definite decision until we've talked about it." I was careful to emphasize that I would be making the decision, with her input and advise, but that it would be my decision. If I wasn't careful, Mom would have me driving a station wagon to school. Ugh!

Mom agreed that we could look at the car, but she insisted on taking along a friend to help. I bristled. She wanted to take her boyfriend, Jared. Once again, Ugh! Mom had started dating Jared almost four months ago and ever since it had been "I'll ask Jared," to everything. It was as if she couldn't think for herself anymore. It irked me. My mother had always been so independent, self-sufficient. Now she didn't seem able to decide what color shirt to wear without Jared telling her.

"I'll call Jared and see if he'd mind coming along," she said.

Great, I thought. Now I would have to spend my afternoon listening to his self-important ramblings, and if he said "no" to the car, my mom would veto it, too. I was really beginning to dislike the guy.

Jared pick us up in his pick-up truck. Mom scooted over to sit in the middle, thankfully, so I sat by the window trying to ignore the sappy eyes they made at each other. Jared drove north on Highway 68, past the high school and toward the outskirts of town. There was a newer subdivision on the outer limits of Elkins, only built in the last few years. It was the kind of place my Mom would love to live. There were pretty houses, only slightly varying from each other, just enough to avoid being labeled "cookie-cutters." Some had a mirror-image floor plan, or an extra bedroom or slightly shifted configuration. Others had different brick, or stone accents. There was even a little park with a playground in the center of the neighborhood. It was nice, all in all, but it didn't have much personality.

We pulled up in front of a house that looked a little older, like it was one of the first in the neighborhood. The grass was badly in need of mowing and the paint on the trim was starting to peel. I guessed that the occupants were either too busy to keep up, or they were the kind of neighbors everyone else complained about behind their backs. I was hoping for the former. The condition of my car was likely to be in direct relation to the state of affairs in the rest of the house.

The little Beetle was sitting in the driveway and the ad was right. The paint job was pretty bad. There was no way to tell what color the car had been originally, but at some point, someone had decided to get creative. They had painted it hot pink with lime green flames on the front fenders. It looked grainy, as if they had tried to paint it with ordinary spray paint. Actually, that's probably exactly what they had done. I made a mental note to look into the Vo-Tech paint option as soon as humanly possible.

Jared knocked on the door and a man answered. He was in his early forties, dressed in business casual slacks and button down shirt, sleeves rolled up and collar loosened. He looked like he had just gotten in from work, and he looked tired.

"Can I help you?" he asked, sounding harassed. He probably assumed we were selling something.

"We're here about the car," Jared answered.

"Oh, thank God," he sighed heavily. "I have been on him to get that eyesore out of my driveway for six months." He turned back to yell up the hallway into the house. "Randy!"

Randy came loafing up the hall. He was in his early twenties with long hair that hung in his eyes. "Hey, you buyin' the car, or what?"

"Randy?" Jared seemed doubtful that Randy had the cognitive abilities to handle a conversation. "We're here to look at the car. Then we'll consider it."

"Yeah, whatever. Ya' wanna drive it?"

"Well, yes, actually." To Jared's credit, he was maintaining his calm exterior, although he probably wanted to slap Randy. I know that I did. Randy dug in his pockets, fished out a key ring, and tossed it to Jared. I snagged it from his hand before he could close his fist around it. He turned his annoyed gaze on me. I shrugged, unconcerned.

"I'm shopping for a car for me. If anybody's test driving it, I am. You are, of course, welcome to come along." He was not happy with my tone. Mom elected to wait in the truck. Jared and I walked to the hot pink bug. I unlocked the driver's door, opened it, and reached through to unlock the passenger door for Jared. "Buckle up."

I started the engine and reached for the gear shift, taking an uneasy breath.

"Wait," Jared stopped me. "Just let it idle for a minute. Pop it, would you, I want to have a peak at he engine." I searched for and found a release lever and pulled it. I didn't bother joining Jared at the back of the car to look at the motor. It would be all for show. I just waited in the car for him to finish looking at whatever one looks at when a motor is running and get back in the car. Finally, he climbed back in the passenger seat and buckled his seatbelt.

"Okay, let's go."

I backed carefully out of the drive, shifted to first gear, and eased down the street. Jared was frowning, but I couldn't tell if he was disapproving or just concentrating.

"Rev it up a little," he instructed. I complied, and was pleased with the responding surge in speed and power. I wasn't looking for a race car, but neither did I want to be run over by some redneck jerk in a jacked up 4X4.

"Stop!" he shouted suddenly. I slammed on the breaks and the little car screeched to a stop and died. I had forgotten to disengage the clutch in my panic.

"What?!" I gasped. "What is it?" I was looking around, checking the mirrors, looking for flames. I could find nothing out of order.

"Nothing," he answered calmly. "Just checking the breaks." He smiled smugly. I rolled my eyes at him and mumbled rude comments under my breath as I restarted the engine. I turned right at the next corner and continued my meandering test drive.

"So, what's the verdict?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

He shrugged. "It's okay. Ugly, but okay."

"I can handle ugly. I have a plan."

"Do tell."

I outlined my theory about the Vo-Tech. He nodded in approval. Maybe he wasn't as bad as I had assumed. He seemed pretty cool, all told. He didn't treat me like an idiot because I didn't know a fan belt from a radiator hose. He just gave his honest opinion about the car, and kept any sarcastic comments to himself. I could really appreciate that. I decided to try the direct approach.

"Listen, Jared, my mom is pretty much looking for your o.k. here, so if you're not going to give it, you'd better tell me now so I don't get attached."

"Becca, it's a car, not a puppy."

"It's not just a car, it's freedom. Tell me you haven't forgotten what that means to a teenager."

He smiled. "I get it. I don't know, Becca. This is a pretty old car, and without knowing what that pot head did to the engine, I can't promise your mother that it's reliable. If it broke down, you wouldn't be able to fix it. Your mother would kill me if I let you get this car and then something happened to you."

I had to think quickly. I didn't want to get stranded with an unreliable hunk of junk either, but I really loved this car. Plus, I had a really good feeling about it, and I liked to trust my instincts.

"Okay," I was in bargaining mode. "I'll take a basic mechanic course at the Vo-Tech over the summer." He still looked skeptical. "I'll get a cell phone."

"How are you going to afford insurance, gas, and a cell bill?"

"I'll get a pre-paid phone and only use it in emergencies, then it won't really cost me anything."

"You can't take a class until school is out next summer. What if something happens in the mean time?" He had me on that one.

"I won't drive anywhere but school for two months. I'll take it to a mechanic. I'll…"

"Okay, okay," he chuckled. "I'll give a provisional approval to your mother. But, you have to promise to get it looked at, and I like the cell phone idea, too. I'd like to add one more condition." I held my breath. "I want to show you how to do basic maintenance and minor repairs. Consider it car tutoring. Saturday mornings, okay?"

I pulled to a stop in front of Randy's house and carefully considered Jared's proposition. I would have to give up my Saturday mornings to let Jared boss me around for a while. In exchange, I would get my car, and it probably wouldn't hurt to learn what he wanted to teach me anyway. I didn't want to be one of those helpless females who gets stranded by a flat tire.

"Deal," I agreed and we shook hands.

I was smiling when I climbed out of the car. Mom jumped out of the truck to meet us. She ignored my smile and looked at Jared.

"Well?" she asked.

Jared looked at me significantly. "We talked about it and Becca and I have reached a consensus. I think the car will be okay, but Becca is still going to take a few precautions. A full check by a mechanic, cell phone, a maintenance course, and I'm going to teach her how to take care of the basics."

Mom looked like she still wanted to say "no." I looked at Jared, pleading with my eyes. He leaned down and whispered something to mom. She sighed in defeat and turned to me.

"All right," she grumbled.

"Really?" I jumped up and down and squealed with happiness. I grabbed them both into a group hug.

"Calm down, calm down," Jared cautioned. "We still have to bargain here. You are not paying twenty-five hundred for that. It's pretty rough."

I struggled to reign in my enthusiasm as we walked back up to the door. I decided to let Jared do the talking. It would mean a lot to him, and I'd probably just ruin it with my desperation, anyway.

Jared knocked on the door again and Randy came back.

"We're interested in the car, but twenty-five is a little steep for the condition. How much are you willing to come down on the price?"

"I dunno." Randy didn't seem to be bargaining. He didn't seem to really care.

"How about fifteen?" Jared offered. I figured he was aiming low to leave room to negotiate. I fully expected Randy to laugh, or counter the insulting offer with a number closer to the original price, after all, Jared had knocked a thousand dollars off of the price.

"Whatever," he said. Mom, Jared and I look at each other in confusion. Was that a yes?

"Okay, so fifteen hundred then?"

"Yeah, sure. Got cash?" Randy didn't seem to care much. Jared looked at Mom, who just shrugged and looked at me.

"Yes!" I answered happily and pulled a roll of bills from my pocket. Mom looked at me disapprovingly. "It was just in case," I protested. "If you said yes, I wanted to be prepared."
Randy went back inside and retrieved the title and we saw that it had already been signed and notarized in anticipation of the sale. I carefully counted out the fifteen hundred and reluctantly turned it over. It was the largest single expenditure I had ever made. My hands were shaking a little when I walked back to the bug with the key, my key, in my hand. I started it and eased down the street for the second time, Mom and Jared following behind in the truck.

Mom wasn't taking any chances and had insisted that we stop at a wireless phone store on the way home and look into a pre-paid phone. By the time we made it home, I had a new car, a new phone, and an appointment with a mechanic friend of Jared's.