Author's Note: THE BIG REVEAL. There are definitely more character's POV's in this chapter, along with the original characters. Paranoia will run rampant amidst the dialogue. I hope things will start to make more sense from here on out. Alrighty then, enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Suite Life, Sonny With A Chance, iCarly, Hannah Montana, Ned's Declassified's or Lizzie McGuire.
Group 8
Ned and the rest of his friends had moved to a new hiding place, near the Ingram Residence. It had only taken them about 10 minutes to sprint down the hill. The idea had been to get as far away from the place where someone had inadvertently disbanded their group. But mostly, it was because they were all unconsciously trying to put as much distance between themselves and the bodies of their two friends. Coconut Head was carefully examining the wendy house at the back of the Ingram Property. Moze sat on the lawn nearby, Suzie resting her head on Moze's shoulder. Ned had decided to sit with the two girls as a sign of solidarity while Cookie stood apart from them, fiddling with his cellphone.
"I just can't believe this is happening," Suzie whispered over and over again, the tears falling freely from her face once more.
Ned and Cookie had decided not to show the rest of the group where the bodies of Martin and Billy lay, opting for an alternative hiding spot instead. For all they knew, the killer could still be lurking about and any delay would have placed each of them at a higher risk. The last thing they needed was further fragmentation of the group.
Moze said nothing, but continued cradling Suzie's head with her left hand, her right hand lying limply on the grass beside her.
Ned felt absolutely wretched. As the unspoken leader of the group, he wished so badly that he could've foreseen this. Martin had been a friend and a good one at that. Ned recounted the number of times he and his friends had left cardboard cut-outs of themselves next to where they stood, just to escape yet another one of Martin's fast-paced and often pointless monologues. Now Ned wished more than ever that he could replace the cardboard cut-out with just one word from Martin. Any word.
Loomer was another story. Ned hadn't hated him, despite Loomer bullying him and Cookie pretty much throughout their elementary and middle school careers. But he had resented Loomer for having the one thing he wanted: Suzie. Of all the plans Ned had ever come up with for breaking Suzie and Loomer up (alongside a reluctant Moze and Cookie), none had ever factored in death as a possible solution. He'd just wanted Loomer out of the way, but not like this. He wanted desperately to comfort Suzie the way Moze was right now, but there nothing he could say and do to help her. Nothing could bring back Billy.
"I'm so sorry, Suzie." Ned finally stated, the misery of the entire situation pulling mercilessly at his resolve not to break down.
"Hey guys, I think someone's been near this wendy house recently. I can't quite tell, but these look like footprints in front of the door." Coconut declared excitedly, bending his head and examining the marks with Ned's spare flashlight.
"Someone was probably hiding here. Or maybe it was the Manhunt group." Moze answered dully, not caring in the least.
"Maybe, but where did they come from? And where do they lead?" Coconut asked pensively, pursing his fingers against his lips.
"Coconut, where are you going?" Ned demanded sharply, his paranoia on high alert.
"I just wanna check something out by the front porch of the house." Coconut answered quickly before disappearing around the corner.
Ned sighed and got to his feet. There was no way in hell he was letting any more of his friends out of his sight for the rest of the night. He trudged swiftly after Coconut's retreating footsteps.
Moze heard Cookie curse under his breath and glanced swiftly up at him.
"Cookie, what are you doing?" she asked curiously. Suzie's head lay limply on her shoulder and her eyes were closed. She appeared to be sleeping.
"Trying to get a signal on my phone." Cookie responded tersely, pressing the buttons of his phone fiercely.
"Cookie, it's pointless. The power's still out and this neighbourhood is notoriously bad for making phone calls." Moze pointed out bleakly.
"I know, but I'm trying my special blue tooth technology." Cookie persisted.
"The one that Gordy helped you create to break into Krubbs' laptop to access the password to the school's free wi-fi server?" Moze asked curiously.
"The very same, but that was just a formality. I already knew that Krubbs' password was 'flamingo'. I just needed an excuse to skip World Studies with Principle Pal." Cookie responded dismissively, while keying in something on his Blackberry.
"I thought it only works with certain phones." Moze persisted in bewilderment.
"It does. But I figured out that a couple of kids in summer school have really swanky phones. Like Amber and Ashley, Miley, Mikayla and Chad Dylan Cooper. We could try to reach one of them and find out where everyone's hiding." Cookie informed her.
Moze nodded silently to herself. She had to admit, Cookie really was brilliant when he wasn't focusing all of his energy on yet another crazy scheme on an equally futile experiment with Ned in tow.
"But first, I need to check and see if my wi-fi connection is strong. West Roxbury Municipality must have already made some strides in restoring the power. All that will left to do at this point is to put the street lamps back on," Cookie murmured more to himself while waiting for a pop-up window of Yahoo! to come up.
"Yes! My wi-fi's working perfectly. Now I just to check the blue tooth…" Cookie trailed off inaudibly, his eyes glued to the web page in front of him.
"Cookie?" Moze asked quizzically, wondering why her best friend had suddenly gone quiet.
Before she could find out, Coconut Head and Ned came strolling back towards them.
"Did you find anything?" Suzie asked unexpectedly, causing Moze to jump slightly.
"Sorry. I was just resting my eyes." Suzie apologised sheepishly to Moze.
"Just several footprints on the front porch steps of the house and along the front lawn." Ned answered casually.
"How many?" Moze asked curiously.
Ned shrugged before answering.
"Not sure. Looks like about two or more people. It's difficult to tell with just the light from the torch." He responded in a non-committal tone.
"There's something interesting about the footprints though," Coconut Head piped up softly.
"What?" Suzie asked suspiciously.
"They seem to be moving in different directions. One set seems to have been coming from the direction of Soldiers Walk while the rest of the footprints might be heading back towards Devonshire Avenue." Coconut surmised.
"What does that mean?" Moze asked dumb founded.
"I think it means that at one least one person joined up with whoever was hiding here before and they all left together." Coconut explained carefully.
"You said one of them came from Soldiers Walk. From where exactly?" Suzie asked suspiciously.
"It's hard to tell. But if I'm guessing, I'd say that person came from the direction of the Forest." Coconut Head answered cautiously.
Suzie and Moze stared at Coconut in bewilderment. Something about the mention of the Forest sent an involuntary shudder through their bodies.
"What makes you say that?" Moze asked hesitantly.
"Because you can only get to this part of the neighbourhood through the Forest. If that one person had met the others from say, Devonshire Avenue or the Main Road, the footprints would've come from that direction. Not leading away from either road." Coconut stated confidently.
"But whoever was here, went in that direction, back towards Devonshire Avenue anyway. Who was it and where were they going?" Ned asked vehemently.
No one had an answer to this. Instead, everyone turned to face Cookie, who still hadn't said a single word about Ned and Coconut Head's exploits.
"What's with him?" Coconut Head asked blankly.
"Cookie? What is it?" Moze asked sharply, staring at the side of her friend's face. His mouth was parted ever so slightly, as if his jaw had suddenly gone slack.
"We're in the news." Cookie responded blankly, his eyes never once leaving his phone.
Ned, Coconut Head, Moze and Suzie scrambled towards Cookie and began glancing over his shoulder frantically.
"I can't see anything, the font's too small." Suzie complained, squinting her eyes at the small screen.
"Enlarge the screen, Cookie." Ned urged impatiently.
Cookie did just that and their eyes travelled along the brightly lit screen.
"Oh my God," Suzie gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.
All the other four could do was stare dumbly back at the words emboldened in black at the top of the webpage:
FRIDAY THE 13TH MADNESS: KILLER UNLEASHED IN WEST ROXBURY
The Guard House
"What have we got here?" Inspector Ambrose inquired cautiously while putting on a pair of Latex gloves.
He was standing just above the body of Bernie Quinn, being careful not to step in the pool of blood surrounding the body and office chair on which the body was placed. Carey, Kurt and Spencer had been left in the police inspector's SUV while he carefully examined the first crime scene. In the background, several technicians could be seen working on the electrical box, Sheila Paxton supervising their efforts.
Cameras flashes blinked around him as the forensics and crime scene specialists got to work on documenting the corpse while the cryptologists began deciphering the strange inscription written in blood above the body. A few other police officers could be seen dusting for fingerprints in the corners of the tiny office.
"The victim's throat was slit along the carotid artery, which accounts for the heavy loss of blood, caused by exsanguination. Judging by the angle of the incision, the victim may possibly have choked on his own blood." The crime scene specialist answered succinctly while examining the body.
"Time of death?" Inspector Ambrose asked carefully.
"According to the 911 call, the body was discovered around 22:20. The blackout occurred approximately an hour before that. I would put the time of death somewhere within those margins." The crime scene expert deduced.
"That's if we're assuming that whoever killed Bernie Quinn gained access to the neighbourhood within that time frame or just before the gates closed at 9pm. What about the position of the body?" Inspector Ambrose questioned briskly.
"The head slumped over onto the left cheek on the table is indicative of the attacker approaching from behind the victim, possibly using a pairing knife of sorts to make the incision. Then again, the head could've been in this exact position before the arrival of the killer. The rest of body parts such as the arms and legs are slack, suggesting a relaxed state of mind. The victim was possibly within a deep REM cycle." The crime scene expert answered cohesively, bending his head over the nape of the victim's neck.
"Well, that's about as relaxed as you wanna get, right? Before you're murdered, anyway." Inspector Ambrose remarked dryly, turning towards the cryptographer examining the bloodied message.
"What are your findings on the message?" Inspector Ambrose asked curiously of the cryptologist.
"The dual derivative meanings are pretty clear: the killer wrote out the names of three trees while highlighting the first letters of each name to spell out the word 'DIE'. That's about all I've been able to figure out so far." The cryptologist responded seriously.
"But the killer could've used three other words to spell out 'DIE' that would've still gotten the message across. Why the fixation with trees?" Inspector Ambrose asked pensively while examining the writing.
"And it's conclusive that he used the victim's blood to write the message?" Inspector Ambrose inquired softly, tracing a gloved finger over the words.
"It's a perfect match." The forensics expert answered succinctly.
"Maybe the guy's an environmental nut." Officer Jensen suggested sardonically.
"I highly doubt that, Officer Jensen. It sounds more like a declaration on the killer's part. He's trying to tell us something about himself. This looks more like a calling card." Inspector Ambrose declared vehemently.
"For who?" Officer Jensen asked blankly.
"The only would-be serial killer who's been placed on our official records with an overt affiliation with trees and all sorts of natural flora: The Woodsman." Inspector Ambrose surmised critically.
Everyone remained silent while Inspector Ambrose scribbled something down onto a notepad which he had taken out of his breast pocket. Unbeknown to all present, Officer Jensen had taken this moment to surreptitiously take out his cellphone. While everyone was staring intently at Inspector Ambrose, he used the opportunity to take a picture of the bloodied message and saved it to his phone.
"Officer Jensen. I'd like you to gather a group of policemen to begin combing the area. Maybe the Woodsman has left a more decisive message elsewhere." He instructed soberly, tearing his eyes away from the mangled body in front of him.
"Yes sir."
With a brisk nod at the police inspector, Officer Jensen strolled out of the guard house back into the cool air of the neighbourhood of West Roxbury. He picked up his police radio and began calling together a team of policemen to search the residential areas. In his left hand, he carried his cellphone. Once the police message had gone through, he began forwarding an MMS message. Once it was received, there was no going back. With that thought in mind, he grinned slightly to himself before walking back towards the East Gate.
The East Gate
Having finished her audio recording, Paulene Dickenson now sat comfortably in her own car, sipping on coffee that she had brought with her in a thermos. In the front passenger seat laid an array of condiments and beverages she had purchased at a gas station on her way to the neighbourhood. Judging by the severity of the situation, it looked like she was going to be there all night.
She frowned at her cellphone lying amongst the food and drinks as it began vibrating audibly. She picked it up and saw that an MMS message had just been forwarded to her. Attached thereto was a minute typed message:
"Thought this might make your blood curl."
After waiting several seconds, the image finally loaded, pixel by pixel.
Paulene gasped involuntarily at what she was looking at. It both thrilled her and made her recoil all at once. A grim smile appeared on her face once she had successfully saved the file.
"Steve, you evil genius." She complimented wryly.
Opening up her laptop resting on the dashboard, which was already logged onto an exclusive website, she began uploading the image to her computer. While she waited, she couldn't help but shiver slightly, silently thanking Steve for not including the image of the unfortunate victim that had accompanied the tell-tale message written in blood.
Group 2 – 00:14
"Did you hear those noises?" Zack inquired curiously.
"Which ones: the loud banging noises or the noises that sounded like screaming from a few minutes ago that have suddenly gone quiet?" Tawni demanded in a tone fringed with overt stress.
"What the hell is going on tonight? I signed up for Dare Night and got 'Nightmare on Elm Street' instead." Mikayla stated exasperatedly.
The three of them were currently in a flurry of bushes with elm trees providing adequate shelter and camouflage along Elm Street.
"If I don't know any better, I'd say someone was trying to break down the gate." Zack murmured pensively, his brow furrowed.
"Great, so now there's a serial killer on the loose, and his band of mutant zombie followers trying to get through the gates!" Tawni shrieked in horror.
Both Zack and Mikayla turned around and stared at Tawni in dismay.
"Seriously, where did you find her? Some celebrity reality show on E! Entertainment?" Mikayla quipped in an undertone.
"Nope, just 'So Random'." Zack muttered back inaudibly.
The three of them heard an even stranger sound from somewhere in the distance. It was a faint buzzing noise, like a low rumbling engine.
"What is that?" Tawni asked in bewilderment, scrunching up her eyes in concentration.
Just as a fluorescent beaming light struck at the darkness sharply, Zack had the good sense to yank at both Mikayla and Tawni's wrist and pull them deeper into the bush they were currently hiding in.
"Zack, what are you doing?" Tawni and Mikayla hissed in unison.
"Keeping us out of sight." Zack hissed back impatiently.
"Zack, it's a police helicopter. Maybe it's come to help us." Mikayla pointed out emphatically.
"And how do you know that? Why would a police helicopter be circling around West Roxbury?" Zack demanded frantically.
"I don't know." Tawni admitted bleakly.
"Exactly. Which is why I'm not moving out from this bush." Zack declared heatedly.
"Look, Zack, I don't know how the police could've already found out about the dead bodies and the psychopath chasing us around the neighbourhood. But it has to be the police. If we leave our hiding place, they'll see us and we'll be able to find the others. Don't you want that?" Mikayla demanded despairingly.
"Of course I want to find the others, Mikayla. But you heard the screams a few minutes ago. Whoever it was probably got attacked by our masked friend. He could still be lurking around in the area. If we leave our hiding place and he finds us before the police do-"
"Okay, you're right. But I just can't sit here and do nothing." Mikayla responded vehemently.
"Well, what do you suggest?" Zack demanded.
"I think the screams were coming from the Greene Residence. I think we should go check it out." Tawni suggested unexpectedly.
"Check it out? Tawni, haven't you been listening to a word I just said? Haven't we risked our lives enough tonight and you wanna go 'check it out'?" Zack hissed, making air-quotes with his fingers.
"Hear her out, Zack. Do you want more dead bodies on your conscience?" Mikayla questioned seriously.
"You're not seriously playing the conscience card?" Zack asked wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose in exhaustion.
"We won't give ourselves away, Zack. We'll stick to the bushes and shadows." Tawni proposed succinctly.
As she made to get up, Zack stopped her once more.
"Wait! Not yet." Zack stated sternly.
The fluorescent beam of the police helicopter was getting closer to them, inch by inch. In just a few seconds, it would pass over them. If they stayed completely still.
The three of them held their breath for what felt like eternity. The beam flashed entirely over the bush where they were hiding. Noticing that her leg was still visible, Mikayla quickly retracted her leg back into the bush with the rest of her concealed body. Just in time by the looks of it as the helicopter flew overhead, illuminating the very spot where her leg had been a second ago. Then it was moving on, scoping the area and veering off towards the north-east perimeter of the enclosed neighbourhood. The three of them heaved loud sighs of relief.
"Come on. And stick to the trees!" Zack hissed as the three of them got to their feet.
They were on the move once more, survival at the forefront of their cohesive minds.
The Rescue Party
Kurt, Carey, Spencer strolled behind Inspector Ambrose and Officers Bryce and Smith through the neighbourhood. The darkness enveloped them, the silence deafening against their ears. They had driven into the interior and parked near the West Gate, just centimetres away from the Parker Residence. They were getting closer towards the south-western perimeter of the neighbourhood, the sides of the gate lined with bushes and an array of flora.
"Inspector, where exactly are we going?" Carey asked through a shuddering breath, trying to keep abreast with the police inspector's rapid pace.
"Not too far from here, Mrs. Martin. There's a resident in the neighbourhood that I'd like to talk to about 'The Woodsman'." Inspector Ambrose replied quickly.
"Do you think this resident will be able to shed light on tonight's events?" Spencer inquired curiously, massaging a stitch in his side.
"Absolutely, Mr. Shay. He and 'The Woodsman' go way back." Inspector Ambrose answered darkly.
The Neighbourhood
He had retraced his steps back to his favourite rocking chair and had sat down once more. He kept the gun carefully placed across his chest in his hands, waiting all the while. He was beginning to perspire slightly, much like his days spent in tropical climates. Then he heard the sounds he'd been expecting for the last 5 minutes. They were here; they had come for him.
Careful not to make a sound, he left the rocking chair and peered through the kitchen floor. He could see them making their way along the driveway with every intention of knocking on the front door. Well, he wouldn't give them the satisfaction. He made his way into the cavernous kitchen and exited through the back door that he'd purposely unlocked a few minutes ago. In about 7 seconds, he would enter his garden and make his way towards the gate near the mulberry bushes planted nearest the front of the house. And they wouldn't be the wiser.
There was a reason why his platoon had nicknamed him 'Quick Draw'. He had never missed a single target, inanimate object or human in his entire military career. And tonight would be no exception.
The Rescue Party
They had finally made their way to the front door, taking in their surroundings. Inspector Ambrose reached up to grasp the brass knocker on the front door and swung it forward. It reverberated dully against the silent night sky as it made contact with the front door three times. Losing patience with the knocker, Inspector Ambrose began knocking on the front door.
"Irving Pal! This is the West Roxbury Police! We've come to ask you a few questions!" Inspector Ambrose announced authoritatively while continuing to pound on the door.
"I don't think anyone's home." Kurt put in hesitantly, feeling unnerved by the strained tension amongst the adults.
Inspector Ambrose ignored Kurt's remark and instructed Officer Bryce and Smith instead.
"Check around the perimeter to see if there are other alternative exits. Otherwise, we're breaking down this front door now." Inspector Ambrose stated curtly.
Before Officer Bryce and Smith could move a muscle towards the gate ahead of them, the adults all heard the unmistakable sound of shoes crunching across gravel as they walked across the driveway. They turned to the right sharply and faced the hulking figure strolling calmly towards them.
The man walking towards them was tall with thick-set shoulders, yet he walked with a slight limp. As he intersected the light given off by the policemen's flashlights, he was illuminated as being an elderly man with wispy white hair and crinkly tanned skin. But what was astounding of all was the fact that was he walking closer towards them, carrying what looked like a hefty gun in his arms, pointed directly at them. Officer Bryce and Smith immediately reached for their guns and pointed them back at the newcomer.
"Police! Lower your weapon!" Officer Smith roared, keeping his gun trained on the elderly man.
The elderly man made no response save to grip the rifle in his hands tighter, not flinching once in his aim.
"Are you Irving Pal?" Inspector Ambrose asked calmly, moving slightly towards him, keeping his eye trained on the menacing rifle.
"Since this is my property, why don't I ask the questions? Who are you?" the elderly man asked in a raspy voice.
"Inspector Ambrose, West Roxbury Police Department. We've come to ask you a few questions." Inspector Ambrose explained coherently, while flashing his police badge at the man to prove his identity.
"The hell you have. I'm giving you 5 seconds to get off my property before I blow your brains out." The elderly man proposed assertively, pointing the gun directly at Inspector Ambrose's chest.
Kurt, Carey and Spencer looked on at the scene ahead, their faces alight with pure terror. Officer Bryce and Smith, who flanked Inspector Ambrose on either side, didn't drop their stance, but continuing training their guns at the elderly man, waiting for further instructions.
"Alright, no questions for now. I just thought you'd be interested to know that patient 00517 has escaped from the Psych Ward of the Watertown Medical Facility a few hours ago? You do know Patient 00517, don't you? The two of you go way back. Isn't that right, Principal Pal?" Inspector Ambrose asked with the slightest trace of a sneer in his tone.
The elderly man's grip on the gun slackened ever so slightly, as if he were about to keel over. His eyes bulged in their sockets as he processed what had just been said.
"No one's called me Principal in years. Patient 00517 has escaped?" he asked in a shaky voice.
"He might've escaped right into to this very neighbourhood and harmed innocent people along the way. Which is why I need your cooperation if we're going to put him back in that padded room where he was a few hours ago." Inspector Ambrose responded severely, looking him directly in the eye.
A pregnant pause ensued where the parties continued to stare one another down, no one daring to make any movement to disturb the stifling tension. After what seemed like an eternity, Principal Irving Pal lowered his gun and stared dejectedly back at Inspector Ambrose.
"Well, I suppose you'd better come in." was all he said before walking slowly towards the front door and opening it.
Group 1
Cody, Bob, Sonny and Max walked together in the gloomy neighbourhood, forming a tight line. Sonny walked in the middle with Max, keeping a firm grip on her injured arm so that she wouldn't stumble. Bob and Cody flanked either side of the girls, their faces set in hard lines. Unbeknown to the rescue party, the group of the teenagers were only situated several meters away from where they were. They had crossed the threshold of Devonshire Avenue where the hill sloped downwards towards the Pal Residence, which lay in close proximity to the south western boundary of the West Gate. They were scanning the gravel road and the houses directly ahead.
"What do you think?" Bob inquired curiously, following up on a previous conversation previously shared by the four.
"I still think we're too exposed in this part of the neighbourhood. We need some kind of elevation." Cody surmised pensively, staring straight ahead.
"What do you mean?" Sonny asked blankly, turning to look at Cody.
"Rooftops. We need to climb up on one of them." Cody responded carefully, scanning the nearest one.
"Climb on top of a roof?! Cody, in case you haven't noticed, I have a broken arm here! How am I supposed to walk upright, let alone climb onto the roof of a house?!" Max demanded in an irate tone.
"Hear me out, Max. The killer could come after us again. This way, we'll be able to keep a look-out for him and any of the other kids in the neighbourhood." Cody reasoned logically.
"Good plan. But how do we get up there?" Bob asked pointedly, staring ahead at the roof of the Oswald Residence.
Just as Cody was about to respond, the four of them turned around sharply at the sound of what sounded like movement behind them. Their words caught in their throats at the sound of footsteps coming towards them. After Cody and Bob had dragged Sonny and Max to safety behind a clump of bushes on the property, Bob and Cody peered subtly over the mossy hedge.
"What is it?" Sonny asked in alarm, her tone matching the look on Max's face.
"A complication." Cody replied tersely, his mouth forming a tight line.
The person walking towards them was dressed in black and wearing a mask.
A look of understanding passed between the two boys and Bob nodded slowly at the look on Cody's face.
"Stay here." Bob commanded tersely.
"What are you going to do?" Max hissed hysterically.
Cody and Bob started momentarily at the frightened teenage girls.
"We're going to fight back." Bob declared assuredly as he and Cody retreated towards the back wall of the property, intending to take the stranger by surprise.
Unknown
He could see them clearly now. With several more strides, he would finally be within reach. They had eluded him once before; they wouldn't do so again. Nothing would get in his way this time. There were more of them, but they were scared and paranoid. They would be looking every which way except behind them. The principle was still the same: divide and conquer. With that thought in mind, he continued stalking them from afar, his jack hammer clutched tightly in his hand.
Manhunt Group
Lily strolled along the gravel road, singing an old Credence Clearwater Revival Water song called 'Tombstone Shadow' in a rhythmic voice. A gentle breeze was blowing in gentle wisps against her cheeks, cooling her burning skin. She had been walking around the neighbourhood for nearly two hours with no clear destination in mind. She thought of Nico and Grady and chuckled aloud, wondering if they had succumbed to wetting their pants because of the blackout.
"What a bunch of pansies," Lily murmured aloud, shaking her head at the thought.
If it was one thing that Lily Truscott was, it was tough. She had practically outshone every boy she knew in climbing trees, making the best mud pies and dealing with bullies since she first learnt how to walk. While Miley (and sometimes Oliver) often cowed to the intimidating stance of Amber and Ashley, Lily hadn't flinched once in their presence. She was no coward; she knew just how to deal with tyrants. Being a tomboy all her life had taught her how to deal with the meanest and roughest customers.
Unfortunately, this knowledge alone didn't forewarn her of the current danger she had placed herself in by advertising her presence to the open road. Her breath died instantly on her lips when she felt a boorish hand sweep across her mouth, covering it in one firm grasp. Before she could use life's expert training and preparation for confrontation and conflict, the hand that had grabbed her dragged her unwilling body into a set of dense bushes where no one could see her or hear her scream.
The Guard House
"Have you checked the wires?" Sheila Paxton inquired of the technician in front of her.
Once the gates had been opened, the municipality workers had streamed into the solitary neighbourhood by the hordes. Their first task had been to restore the lights to the neighbourhood. After working solidly on the sabotaged electrical box for nearly 15 minutes, it looked like they were making positive developments. While they worked on the electricity, the policemen that had accompanied them cordoned off the guard house while they examined the dead body of Bernie Quinn.
"Twice, Sheila. I think we should test them out." The technician informed Sheila calmly.
Sheila scanned the technician's handy work. It looked like he had rearranged the wires back to their original position.
"Why don't you do the honours?" the technician asked of Sheila with a sly smile.
Shaking her head at him, Sheila bent down towards the electrical box. She sighed audibly and pressed a button in the centre.
The sound of whirring mimicking rushing water could be heard audibly from the motor located on the side of the guard house. Their corneas were nearly blinded into oblivion when the fluorescent lights of the nearest street lamps in the neighbourhood returned in full force. Everyone in close proximity instinctively covered their eyes with their hands and arms, giving their pupils time to adjust to the sudden change.
When colour could finally be discerned from colour, the throng of municipality workers and policemen gazed in astonishment at the rows of street lamps lighting up the entire neighbourhood. They gazed at the light in disbelief as if seeing light for the first time, as if God himself had called it into existence. With the light came sudden relief. And hope.
The Pal Residence – 00:25
After the initial altercation, the policemen and citizens were surprised and a little disturbed by the sudden change in Former Principal Pal's demeanour. He had gone from a threatening stance to a welcoming posture in under 5 seconds as he offered them each a cup of coffee. Once they were seated in the small living room, he joined them, opting to sit in his favourite arm chair.
After the sudden return of the light, the house and general interior of the Pal Residence looked less daunting. The living room was decorated simply with ample furniture, a grandfather clock ticking away near the fireplace and a row of photo frames decorating a wooden mantelpiece hanging above it.
Once Inspector Ambrose had explained the current situation to Irving Pal, he had become more encouraged to cooperate fully with the police.
"So you believe that Patient 00517 has really come into the neighbourhood tonight?" Principal Pal asked uneasily.
"I am almost positive of that, Mr. Pal. But I require confirmation of that from you. Has he tried to contact you in the past 24 hours?" Inspector Ambrose asked suspiciously.
"No. I don't think he's even aware of the fact that I live in this neighbourhood. It has been two years since we last had any sort of communication." Principal Pal responded sincerely.
"You mean, since the trial?" Inspector Ambrose asked calmly, scanning over the pages from his brief case.
"That's correct." Principal Pal replied quickly, nodding his head.
Carey, Kurt, Spencer and the two policemen were completely mystified by this exchange between the inspector and elderly man. But they all felt sure that the new few minutes would be more than just illuminating.
Group 8
After the initial shock of the news headline that had initially caught his eye, Cookie began using his trained knowledge of research, feverishly scanning multiple web pages in rapid succession.
"I don't understand. We barely know what's going on in the neighbourhood. But the press already knows?" Moze demanded exasperatedly, pacing across the lawn beneath them.
"Someone must've leaked the story online. But does that mean that the police and media are in the neighbourhood?" Coconut Head asked quizzically, joining Moze's fervent pacing.
"We would've seen something by now. The neighbourhood's as quiet as a tomb." Suzie pointed out knowingly.
"Cookie, what are you doing?" Ned asked sharply, glancing over his shoulder.
"Looking up information on 'The Woodsman'." Cookie informed him briskly.
"Who?" Moze asked dumbly, coming to stand next to Ned.
"The serial killer that the press think is in the neighbourhood. They think he might've snuck in here before the gates closed at 9pm. It makes sense, if he followed us near the Greene Residence and killed both Martin and Loomer." Cookie explained, rushing over the last sentence referring to his former classmates.
A reference to 'Patient 00517' appeared in the article Cookie had been reading and he frowned. Ned and Moze saw him enter an unknown website and begin keying in some foreign commands."
"Cookie, what are you doing?" Ned demanded suspiciously, her voice an octave higher than usual.
"Checking out Watertown Medical Facility's database. I think 'The Woodsman' and 'Patient 00517' is the same person." Cookie observed shrewdly.
"Cookie, this is classified information! You're hacking into medical files on private citizens!" Moze hissed indignantly.
Coconut Head and Suzie were also congregated around Cookie at this point.
"Cookie, that's a felony! You could get life imprisonment!" Coconut Head chimed in worriedly.
"I'll take my chances. But for right now, I need some answers." Cookie stated firmly, his eyes locked on the screen.
The Pal Residence
"You live here alone?" Officer Bryce inquired curiously, glancing at the array of photo frames along the mantelpiece.
"I am a widow. My wife, Gladys, died of cancer two years ago. I retired from the position of Principal at James K. Polk when she took a turn for the worse. That's when we moved to Boston so that she could get regular treatment. We would've been married 40 years this year." Principal Pal explained soberly, his eye catching the photo frame containing the picture of his wedding day.
"I'm so sorry." Carey offered genuinely, feeling sudden moisture creeping into her eyes.
Principal shrugged in non-committal fashion before continuing.
"After I gave evidence against him at the trial, the DA had more than enough ammunition in their pockets to put him away for several years. But Dr. Connor from Watertown Medical Facility intervened in the final stages and made a deal with his lawyers, advising them to plead insanity. He thought that the best solution would be to pursue medical treatment, not incarceration. In the end, Judge Wargrove concurred with his reasoning and made the verdict." Principal Pal concluded gravely, his forehead crinkling with intense sadness.
"You were close to him?" Inspector Ambrose asked carefully.
"He was a good friend. He saw me as a type of mentor and father-figure when we first met. Salt of the earth was what sprang to mind when I first interviewed him for the position of Woodshop teacher at the school." Principal Pal responded morosely.
Group 8
Cookie scanned the material before him, his eyes watering from the amount of information before him.
"Arrested two years ago…pled insanity at the trial…Patient 00517 was admitted to Watertown Medical Facility under high surveillance…considered a high risk patient due to his varying symptoms…" Cookie read loudly.
Ned, Coconut Head, Moze and Suzie followed along with him, listening intently to every word.
"Yes! Here's what I'm looking for… a criminal record. Now if I can just enlarge the mug shot…" Cookie continued pensively, screwing up his face in concentration.
They all leant in together, not wanting to miss this. When the picture finally appeared, it took them a few more seconds to process who they were looking at. They had been expecting a nameless face, a stranger. But instead…
"Oh my God!" Cookie exclaimed in horror.
"No, this can't be!" Suzie echoed, her eyes dilated in complete shock.
"No." Moze repeated, shaking her head vehemently, refusing to believe what she was seeing.
Coconut Head and Ned looked at each other wordlessly for a few seconds.
"Holy crap." They chorused in unison, they eyes darting back unwillingly to the picture before them.
The Pal Residence
Principal Pal hung his head. When he looked up once more, his six guests were staring at him in complete amazement. He sighed and continued speaking:
"To think that he could do something like this is unthinkable. Dusty Chopsaw was one of the most respected teachers at James K. Polk…"
Author's Note: Compared to the previous chapter, this was considerably easier to write. It took a while to decide on a plausible chapter title. But I finally landed on 'Let There Be Light'. I was going for a double meaning with the chapter title besides the overt message. I intend to make things more complicated even with the lights on. I definitely will toy with the idea that things can be even scarier with the lights on. I want to say a big thank you to woundedhearts for pointing out an important problem in her last review. So if you want to know who inspired the arrival of the police helicopter in the neighbourhood, then look no further than woundedhearts. Thank you for giving my story an air of plausability. This is why I need your reviews. While I am keeping a detailed log of everything that has transpired, there will be times when I forget important things in the story. That's why I value reviews to let me know how I'm doing.
I tried to make more people in this chapter aware of what was happening the neighbourhood, so that they can begin fighting back against their attacker. I thought this was especially important for the Ned characters because of their unwitting connection to Patient 00517. Principal Pal will also continue to play a pivotal role in the story because of his personal ties to Patient 00517 as well. It's definitely no coincedence that all the Ned happen to be in the same neighbourhood on the same night...
It took me a while before I finally settled on the identity of 'The Woodsman'. Ironically, most of the candidates came from Ned's Declassified's. I almost made Vice-Principal Crubbs the murderer (lol). The other option was Mr Howard from iCarly because he just looks like a serial killer (can't really explain it). More motivations behind Dusty Chopsaw's crimes will be illuminated next chapter, but I hope you enjoyed the cliffhangers in this chapter. I had to literally sit on my hands to keep these two chapters on lock-down before putting them on FF for the weekend, so yay me for patience and endurance. I have to give a big shout out to my greatest sources of reference in this story: Google, Wikipedia and Wiki. Wiki was especially instrumental in detailing what exactly causes death from slitting a person's throat. Please let me know what you thought of the various interactions, especially the scenes where the police were involved. I apologise if it was an information overload, but I thought it was high time that I did some revealing. I hope to have chapter 15 up soon after this because I plan on writing during the festive season (since I'll still be in town). I hope everyone out there has a fantastic holiday season, no matter what you're celebrating. Treasure the festivities with your loved ones and stay safe. Happy holidays, everyone!