Clay drove up in his rented car at three o'clock. Sam had told Clay about his proposal. Clay was initially skeptical about it, stating that there were some personal aspects about it he wanted to talk with Sam about one-on-one. However, he couldn't help but be impressed when Sam told him about Kyle's flying experience. Despite Clay's personal interests, it was still a rescue mission. The more help they could get, the better.

Sam and Kyle had both packed what they could into small suitcases. They'd promised themselves that if their career ever took off, they'd buy bigger cases, but this was all they had for the time being. They loaded them into the back of the car and began their journey to the airport.

"I'm still surprised you were able to get two more seats so fast," Kyle told Clay, who shrugged.

"Fortunately, being a police chief has its advantages when it comes to money and insider knowledge. I have an old high school buddy who's in charge of booking at O'Hare. He says there were a few last-minute cancellations on my flight to Salt Lake City. The seats aren't together, though. I hope you don't mind."

The boys shook their heads.

"Story of his life," said Kyle, gesturing to Sam. "Ever since I've known him, he's always had this sense of isolation, like he's lost in his own world sometimes. This is probably exactly what he needs."

Clay nodded. "That doesn't surprise me. His father was the same way."

Sam's head turned slightly from the window, the mention of his father catching his attention briefly before he continued gazing at the city as they passed. He still felt guilty about not feeling something stronger after hearing about his father's death, but it had been so long since he'd seen him, not to mention Clay wasn't giving any fresh signs of loss from it, either. Sam sighed. He still wasn't sure exactly how to feel. If anyone had told him a mere twenty-four hours ago what he'd be doing the following day, he'd have thought they were crazy. And yet here he was, on the road to crazy town with his friend and a man they'd only known for hours.

"Forgive me if I'm being inconsiderate," said Clay, "but do you think your mother would like to know where you're going?"

Sam and Kyle both glanced at each other.

"Not really," said Kyle. "She's a bit sensitive to this kind of stuff. She's always been very protective of Sam, telling him to be careful whenever he did anything. She nearly had a heart attack the first time my dad offered him a ride up in a plane. I think it's best that she doesn't ever find out about this."

Clay glanced at Sam, who nodded.

"Yeah, but just in case she comes to the apartment, I left a note saying that Kyle and I took a few days off of work to take care of some business. With luck, she'll think it's band-related and not ask any questions when we get back."

Clay shrugged. "Alright, then. It's your business."

They arrived at the airport within minutes. After an hour-long wait and three new song ideas from a bored Kyle, they boarded the plane. Clay took a seat in an aisle near the front while Sam got a window seat a few rows behind him. Kyle, on the other hand, ended up several rows back in the aisle next to an older-looking gentleman who had already fallen asleep. Kyle shot Sam an annoyed look.

Lucky me, he mouthed, and Sam chuckled. In nearly every movie or TV show he'd seen involving plane rides, one person always ended up getting the short end of the stick somehow.

As the plane lifted off the ground, Sam groaned. His stomach always protested during takeoff and landing. Something about the change between ground-to-air and vice versa rubbed his stomach the wrong way. Fortunately, he had hardly eaten anything all day, so there was little at risk of coming out. Before long, they reached their cruising altitude and Sam leaned back, closing his eyes.

A few rows up, Clay glanced back at him. It still amazed him. After all these years, he had never known that Henry had another child, that Charlie had a brother, and a twin brother, at that. He took note once more of Sam's face, how it almost mirrored the face he'd seen so often the last almost two years during the incidents they'd been through.

The incidents. That, Clay realized as he faced forward once more, was something that he was still debating on how exactly he would tell them. How much would they believe? That animatronics had apparently come alive, possessed by deceased children? He shook his head. It still puzzled him a bit. How could that happen? Five children were led astray and murdered brutally by Henry's co-owner William Afton, and he had been led to believe that their bodies were stuffed inside the suits, forming a connection with the animatronics. But how did that work? The animatronics came alive and tried attacking a group of teenagers who had once been their childhood friends, including his own son Carlton. And then a year later, he had discovered a secret underground pizzeria owned by Afton beneath Charlie's father's house, and after an impromptu rescue mission for her, she supposedly died.

And then there was the last month or two when a doppelganger of Charlie was walking around masquerading as her, fooling many...except him. Unfortunately, after catching onto her secret, he found himself in the hospital for a while, only recovering in time to find his son taking his place after yet another supernatural incident at the most recent restaurant, Circus Baby's Pizza. Although Carlton was fine and it seemed like another case closed on the ordeal, Charlie, the one they knew, was never found. Carlton and the others, Jessica, Marla, and John, all testified that they had found and spoken with their Charlie, but he never had the chance. Jessica had taken him to Silver Reef and shown him the remains of the body of Charlie's unfortunate Aunt Jen. They couldn't stand to look at it for too long given that decomposition had already long-since begun at that point. She was removed and later given a proper burial.

It was then that the two of them had looked down the hall and noticed something very unsettling. Two still figures, one of which had a blade. Clay recognized it immediately. It was the robot that had been near Henry's body the day he...well, ended his life. And now here it was in Silver Reef. The other figure was even more unsettling to behold. Lying on the floor in a heap was a recent face he'd become acquainted with, a robotic face that was often hidden behind a facade of an older (and, according to Carlton, prettier) version of Charlie. And now here it was, in its true hideous form, its dead face murderous and its mouth open in rage. Clay shuddered. It was this exact face that he saw moments before it nearly killed him in his own home. The rest of the house was nowhere near as interesting, save for the crate in which Jessica and John had found Charlie, their Charlie, during their first visit to the house. Clay had the dead imposter's body removed. Although part of him desired to have it looked at and studied, put to some use, his near-death experience at its hands was too strong, and he had it burned. He took it into his backyard and, under Carlton's fascinated gaze from upstairs, burned it to ashes. He'd had enough of it. He wanted nothing more than to get rid of any connection to William Afton and his streak of terror.

But where was Charlie? The Charlie they all knew and loved? While he was struggling for life in a hospital, she had momentarily reappeared and then vanished almost as quickly. Jessica and Marla, two of her closest friends, constantly asked him for reports and updates on his search. He still got occasional long-distance phone calls from Marla after she returned to school, and Jessica was relentless, stopping by nearly every other night offering her services, which Clay politely turned down and told her to focus on her own school. Carlton, being forced to stay home for an undetermined amount of time due to his sustained injuries, asked questions too, and tried lightening the mood every now and then as he always did, but it was obvious that he too missed Charlie. And John…

John. Where was John? That was the big mystery behind all of this. The last anybody heard from or saw him was that day in the hospital, when he told Clay firmly that he wouldn't find Charlie. And he turned and walked out, never to be seen again. Every passing day with no luck finding her increased Clay's suspicions that John may know something important, but he was gone. Even more shockingly, his apartment was empty when he checked, with no sign whatsoever that John had been around in some time. John had officially dropped off the grid almost as quickly as Charlie had, with no indication whatsoever of his whereabouts. All that was left to do was to keep looking, regardless of how long it took or how many of Clay's colleagues convinced him that it was hopeless.

Clay sighed as he mentally re-examined the events of the last fifteen years. Poor Charlie, he thought, and poor Henry. That family has been through some crazy times. And it started before Henry and Charlie even came to town, with Henry losing a child and all…

Suddenly, he shot up in his seat with eyes wide.

Wait a minute. Which child did he lose? He looked back at Sam, whose eyes were still closed. This is Charlie's brother, who's very much alive. So which child of Henry's died? Did he have a third? His mind mulled over everything he'd learned the last few weeks. He never saw anything to indicate a third child of Henry's, but then again it wasn't obvious to him that Sam existed until he had called his mother, who may very well be hiding something, trying to prevent revealing anything else after letting it slip that she has a son.

Clay shook his head. It had certainly been a long month since Charlie disappeared, and Carlton's slowly-improving condition at home wasn't helping. Of course, he had to take a few months off of school to heal. Fortunately, given his unique circumstances, his school in New York assured him that they would work something out, but nevertheless, he had to heal. He had just recently begun walking again, albeit very slowly. It was heartbreaking seeing his son suffering as much as he was, but he was lucky to be alive after being injected in the heart with one of Afton's experiments. Clay sighed, trying to think optimistically.

At least Sam's here, now. With him, we might be able to get somewhere...I hope.

But still, somewhere deep in his heart, an awful feeling began to grow. He had very briefly asked Charlie about her supposedly-dead twin brother. It was while they were inspecting the remains of Tracy Horton, one of the bodies that had begun appearing randomly between Hurricane and St. George's. He remembered how quickly she brushed him off when he had asked her.

"You had a twin, didn't you? Your brother."

"I barely remember him."*

Clay shut his eyes, trying his best to fight off that awful feeling still growing inside him.

We still don't know anything for sure, yet. Charlie might still be alive, just like she clearly has been all these years...right?

He glanced back at Sam again, watching as his eyes opened and he pulled a small notebook and pencil out of his pocket.

April 13, 1999

I've made up my mind. Kyle and I are both on our way to Utah now. It's still a little crazy how fast and suddenly this all happened, but I think there may be more to my past than what's going on. On that note, Clay's been sending some weird vibes. Not that he seems untrustworthy (I hope he's not!), but I can't help but get the feeling that he's hiding something. Hopefully, it's just a matter of us getting there first, but I wonder how much more there is to this story than he' s letting on so far. He has this look in his eyes that something deep is bothering him. He's trying to pass it off like nothing's going on outside of what he says he's trying to do, but there's something there.

Maybe I'm still a little tired from yesterday. After all, it has been a crazy twenty-four hours. I'm glad I talked Kyle into coming as well. I might need a familiar face to be there for me if things get overwhelming. And who knows? Maybe this little trip is exactly what we both need to clear our heads and refocus once we get back.

When the plane landed in Salt Lake City, it was getting darker, but still adequately lit thanks to the timezone jumps. Kyle was the first off the plane, having grown increasingly irritated by his neighbor's obnoxious snoring, with Clay and Sam following not too far behind.

They retrieved their luggage and took it to the shuttle which drove them to the nearby car park. As they approached Clay's police car, Kyle turned to Sam.

"You know it keeps hitting me more and more how weird this all is?" he whispered. "Coming here, getting into a police car. I keep thinking we're in trouble for something, just like...you know…"

Sam nodded, knowing exactly what Kyle was referring to but not willing to bring it up.

"So, this one's yours?" Sam asked.

"Yep," said Clay. "It's a bit old, but it runs fine."

"Why'd you park way back here?" Kyle asked, noting how far away they were from the entrance to the car park.

Clay sighed. "Honestly, with all the countless hours I've spent trying to track down your sister, Sam, I've had enough people give me strange looks that I didn't want to draw too much attention to the fact that I'm a cop from Hurricane."

They climbed into Clay's car and were soon heading down the main road.

"So, you boys ever been to this side of the country?" Clay asked, still figuring out how to work the full details into a conversation.

Kyle shook his head. "Nah. I've been out of state a little, but nowhere too far. Farthest I ever went was to New York with my father."

"That's good," said Clay. "You know, my son Carlton is studying acting in New York. Well, not right now. As you'll soon find out, he's...taking a bit of time off at the moment, but he says he loves it. Of course, you know all about city life, don't you?"

"Yeah, I guess so," said Kyle. "I mean, once you get used to people driving like lunatics every day and the weather deciding it wants to skip two seasons every other year, it's not that bad. Honestly, it's kind of like looking in one of those funhouse mirrors, you know? At first, you think it's amusing, but then you quickly get tired of looking like a lima bean with a shrunken head."

Clay laughed. "I like you, Kyle. You really need to meet my son. You two would hit it off pretty well. He could really use some company, being at home all the time."

Kyle nodded in interest before turning to Sam, who'd been silent for the entire duration of the car ride so far. "You ok, Sam?"

Sam nodded but still said nothing. Clay glanced at him as well.

"Any of this look familiar, Sam?"

Sam took a look out the window. They had just driven through Provo. There were many buildings, some old, some new, all of which stood out against a mountain landscape in the back. Sam shook his head.

"No, nothing yet."

"Wow," said Kyle, admiring the mountains. "I'd love to take a ride over those."

"Yes," said Clay. "I've always admired the beautiful scenery here. So, how long have you had your piloting license?"

"Not long," said Kyle. "I'd flown under my dad's supervision many times while he was training me, but I only got my license last July right after I turned 18. And it's only a private license. My mom and dad both wanted me to get a commercial at some point, but I told them that I'm only sticking around helping them out until we work something out with our music."

"Ah, so how long have you two been playing?" Clay asked, still watching Sam's silent gaze out the window.

"Us? Well, I've been taking piano lessons since I was six. Sam's only been playing guitar for about eight or nine years, but he's pretty good. We've also been singing-"

"Clay?" Sam interrupted, causing both of them to look at him. "What's she like?"

"Who? Your sister?"

"Yeah," said Sam. "What's she like?"

"Kind of quiet. Didn't really speak much, especially in larger groups of people. Very reserved, but a bright kid. Smart and quick on her feet. Learned a lot about self-management from your Aunt Jen."

"Didn't like public speaking, huh?" Kyle said with a chuckle. "That sure sounds like a family connection, all right. I remember the night of our first show, this guy..." He nodded to Sam. "...told me that if I looked over halfway through the show and didn't see him anywhere, it was because he was in the bathroom hurling."

Sam slapped him in the arm and turned back to Clay.

"Have you spoken to my Aunt Jen?"

Clay sighed. "No. I'm afraid she's gone, too."

Sam and Kyle both exchanged nervous looks. Exactly how much had this guy not told them yet?

"What do you mean, she's dead too?" Kyle asked bluntly.

Clay nodded. "I promise I'll explain everything once we get to the house. I hope you boys don't mind staying at my place. It's better than some of the local motels, believe me. I'll see if Carlton's up to fill you in as well."

Sam and Kyle looked away and out their windows, both with a pit in their stomach. It seemed like every time Clay opened his mouth there was more bad news to add to the tension.

Clay sensed he had hit them a little bit and decided to remain silent for a little while. He still considered it lucky that they, particularly Sam, had agreed to come and help. Given his mother's immediate rejection of the offer, which he never actually had the chance to give her, he was nervous about meeting Sam and extending the offer to him. That was what led him to take the time for a face-to-face meeting. He only hoped that it wouldn't all be for nothing.

Finally, they passed the sign.

WELCOME TO HURRICANE, UTAH.

Sam and Kyle began inspecting the place almost immediately.

"Is this it?" Kyle asked.

"Yep," said Clay. "Not a very big or rich town, as you may have guessed."

"So where are we going first?" Sam asked.

"To my house," said Clay. "It's been a long day for us. Besides, I want to fill you in with all of the full, personal details as promised before you start getting confused with some of the theories on the local news."

"Personal details?" said Sam as they turned into an urban subdivision.

Clay sighed. "Let's just say, I've been both privileged and unfortunate enough to witness many things much more closely than any other cop in town. I know a lot more about what's happened than what you'll see on TV or hear on the streets."

"Like what?" Kyle asked.

Clay's eyes glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

"You'll see."

REFERENCES

*The Twisted Ones, p. 98.