A/N: Hello, everyone! I hope you all had a wonderful week. Remember when I mentioned Richie's dream back in Chapter 11? Well, you get to see what it is. The chapter is mostly centered around The Losers, but I don't want to give away what happens here. Currently, I'm rewriting Chapter 17, along with writing out a couple of scenes for 18. So, updates will be slow this time around. I may deviate from the film slightly, but I'm still debating on this.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the read!
09/16/20 Update: I went back and fixed a scene, along with some errors.
The sound of shuffling feet woke Richie from his deep slumber. He thought maybe one of his parents was in here snooping around. He laid there, listening to them stumbling. Their feet are light, so it must be a female. His mom is probably looking for something or gathering up his dirty clothes to wash. With a heavy sigh, Richie opens his eyes to check the clock. In the back of his mind, he thought it was late morning. Instead, he is greeted with darkness. Furrowing his brows, Richie saw the time of three-fifteen. He stares at the digital red numbers in confusion.
Who in the fuck is in my room at this hour?
Richie hears the shuffling again at the foot of his bed. He wants to look, but every muscle in his body grew rigid. His breath quickens from feeling someone pressing onto the mattress near his feet. Slowly they crawled up and over Richie's paralyzed form. They breathed raggedly and raspy as if gasping for air. Whoever it is, they crept awkwardly like a drunken man.
"Richie," they rasped dryly.
His eyes widen, the digital numbers blurring from unshed tears. Richie trembles when he felt them shakily stop at his hips, weighing him down slightly.
Oh, fuck.
"Richie," they called.
Richie's breath audibly quickens, and lips quivered violently. He knows that voice. He goes to call out their name, but Richie's voice is caught in his throat.
Ruth?
He turns his eyes away from the clock, slowly glancing over his shoulder. Richie rolls slightly on his back and stares. He goes to scream, but his throat tightens when their hands clamp around him. Richie gasps, bug-eyed while watching his unwanted visitor hover above him. He can't tell who exactly it is, but from the shadow, it's indeed a female. Her head hung limply at the shoulders, broken and bruised. Richie can see the noose wrapped around her still.
"You killed me," she states hauntingly.
Richie wanted to claw at her wrists, but he is frozen in absolute horror. He can't breathe.
Ruth, stop! You're choking me!
"You killed me," she repeats. Her grip tightened, constricting Richie's airway.
Richie frantically gasps as he stared up at Ruth. He attempts to call her name only to gag.
I can't breathe! Ruth, stop!
"You killed me!"
"Ruth," Richie gasps, his vision blurring.
He starts to frantically kick and writhe, trying to fight but to no avail.
"You killed me!"
"Please," he wheezes.
"YOU KILLED ME, RICHIE!"
That's when Richie gasps sharply with a startled yell. He bolts up in his bed, glancing around in the shadows wildly. He breathes frantically, almost hyperventilating, and bottom lip trembled fiercely. Richie gulps with difficulty to calm himself. It doesn't work. He is still very much frightened of the nightmare. With a heavy exhale, Richie bends forwards.
"Oh, thank fuck," he mumbles in relief, weeping.
He stared at the sheets for a moment then over at the clock. It's three-sixteen. With a heavy sigh, Richie turns his gaze off his alarm clock to the bed again. That's when he noticed the imprints from when Ruth was hovering over him. His eyes widened to dollars, and mouth gaped.
"Oh, fuck," Richie stops when he felt someone close by.
"Gray Water," Ruth's voice sounds softly.
Oh, God, please, no!
He timidly glances over his right shoulder, expecting her light gray and blue corpse there. Thankfully, she's normal in color. Richie trails his eyes over Ruth's body to her expectant furious gaze. He was wrong, though. Ruth stood at his bedside with a saddened frown, tears streaming from her eyes.
"BK?" He called to her, scared still.
Richie sees her lip tremble before opening her mouth. "Please, help me."
He couldn't get anything out when something impaled Ruth from behind. He couldn't tell if it was an appendage, a wrought iron pole, or something else. All Richie knew was that blood sprayed on his face then screamed.
Richie tumbles, falling out of his bed with a hard thud. He scrambles, yelling as he crawled far away. He stared at the bed frame and glanced underneath into the shadows. Nothing, no one is in the room now. All that remained is fear running deep in his bones.
"Oh, fuck," Richie stutters lowly, crying.
He glances down the hall, hoping one of his parents heard him. Neither did, though. It's probably for the best anyway. He doesn't want them to see him bawling his eyes out again. Richie turns to his alarm clock, reading six-thirty, then over to his window. It's barely light out. With a shaky breath, Richie stood from his spot on the floor. It's final, he must go see Ruth. Richie needs to know if these nightmares of his are premonitions. It's not the first time he's had them.
Richie saw Ruth the way she was earlier the day he told her to disappear like the others. The nights following consisted of her hung body choking him, then waking up to another of Ruth getting killed in some fashion. Only once did he see Ruth doing harm onto herself. It disturbed him as Ruth was clawing and cutting at her face. She was even mumbling something Richie couldn't interpret. The best he got out of it was, "If you don't believe." He's not sure what that meant.
Richie is beginning to believe these false awakenings mean something. He must get to the bottom of it. Richie quickly dressed in the dark, not caring if his clothing matched or not. Within minutes, he silently rushes out of his room and down the stairs.
You better be okay, BK.
Bill woke up with a gasp as well this morning.
Bill's not sure what it was he dreamt of ten minutes ago. He has this sickening feeling of dread and horror in the pit of his stomach. His mind is unusually alert, heart beating erratically in his chest, and palms sweated. Bill's grip on the handlebars of his trusty bike Silver was hard to keep on. His right hand slid, hanging limply at his side only briefly. His breath quickened as he speeds faster and faster down the street. Bill's destination unclear.
After waking, Bill left a note for his parents to let them know he had gone on a ride. Bill then hopped on his bike and just pedaled. His mind didn't direct him, but something else. His heart did. Bill's irregular heart guided him. He doesn't know where that "where" is, though. All Bill knew was GO NOW.
Go and ride, says the beating muscle.
His eyes focused on the road ahead of him. Strangely enough, there is no one out. It is eerily silent. The only sound Bill can hear is his blood pumping in his ears.
Where exactly am I going? Bill wonders.
After a while, the silence around him is disturbed. A clicking sound of a rushing bicycle is coming up from behind. Bill furrowed his brows, glancing over his shoulders at the source. His eyes land on Richie, who seems somewhat disturbed and sheet white.
"Ri, Richie?" Bill questioned.
Richie was in a daze as he looked over at Bill, startled. "Bill?"
"What are you doing out here?" Bill questions with a struggle.
Bill saw it then, Richie's haunted expression. Something spooked him, and he's adamant in not sharing. He won't push Richie into talking about it.
Richie frowns, "It's difficult to explain, Bill."
He nods in understanding.
"What about you? What are you doing out here?"
Bill glances over at Richie. He thought about it for a moment as he must not stutter. He recalls Ruth's confidence and the odd smile. She was passionate about something. Bill remembers the moment he stood on the steps of the Neibolt House. He had passion and courage. Bill cleared his throat, perking up.
Be confident! Speak slowly!
"It's hard to explain. I woke up with this," Bill stops to consider for a moment. "Feeling. Something doesn't feel right."
Richie stared for a moment, bewildered at Bill for not stuttering. He smiles weakly, his nightmare still plaguing his mind.
"I woke up from a nightmare within a nightmare," Richie tells him.
"About what?"
Richie didn't get a chance to answer when someone called out to them.
"Bill! Richie!" A familiar voice called out.
The two boys look over their shoulders, seeing Eddie.
"Ed's?"
He purses his lips. "You know I hate it when you call me that!"
Bill glances back and forth. "How, how are you riding your bike? You have a broken arm."
Eddie gapped. "He didn't stutter!"
Rich smiled briefly, rolling his eyes as well. "Yeah, I know," he mumbles.
"To answer your question, our oh so fearless leader, carefully."
"So, uh you as well, huh?" Bill asks him.
Eddie frowns, dismayed. "Yeah, unfortunately. I had a freaking nightmare that scared the piss out of me. I hardly ever have any."
Richie whirls at him, "You, you, too?"
"Yeah, why? What was your's about?"
"I, I don't," Richie stumbles, unsure if he should say anything.
You killed me, Richie … Please, help me, Ruth's voice echoed in his mind.
He gulps harshly, shaking his head to rid himself of the haunting image of her.
"I don't want to talk about it," he replies firmly then pushes further away.
Eddie and Bill watched him pedal ahead, confused.
"Is, is he alright?" Eddie inquires.
Bill can only shrug.
The three rode in silence for a bit until the sickening feeling intensified. Bill, Richie, and Eddie drew closer to something. Bill glanced around. He's not familiar with this neighborhood. It's not fancy, but certainly not the slums either. It's decent. The homes were moderate in size, others not so much. The majority of the houses are either stark white, cloud gray, or khaki in color and are paired with maroon, black, or dark gray roofs. There is one house; however, that stood out from the rest with its deep forest green roof and eggshell white siding.
Bill, Richie, and Eddie shortly stop, discovering that it's Beverly. She's staring at the house with indifference but is trembling. Bill watched her a moment then directed his attention to the home. The feeling he had since he awoke became unbearable. He wants to vomit. There is something in that house where Bill feels the need to investigate.
Something is terribly wrong here, Bill says to himself.
"I don't like this," Beverly voiced.
She eyed the house still, frowning deeply.
"Whose house is this?" Eddie asked, dismounting his bike.
Someone else squeals to a stop, joining the other four. No one glanced over to see who else came here.
"Oh, shit, this is Ruth's place," Mike answers, his voice unsteady.
"Wait, this is Ruth's house?" Richie questioned, awed. He scans the exterior, nodding. "Not bad, BK. Whoever did the shrubs and landscaping did a great job."
"Ruth did all of that," Mike told him, eyes not leaving the house. Oh, God, I don't like this. Something is terribly wrong.
Richie blinks, astonished. "I should ask her to do our shrubs. My trim job sucks."
Someone else joins the group. Stan squeals to a stop and jumps off, letting his bike fall. He comes up from behind Mike, eyeing the house anxiously.
"Oh, God no, Ruth," he mumbles with a strain.
Bill glanced at Stan then at the others, wondering. Did they all feel the same thing? Did whatever they felt has something to do with Ruth? His heart drops to his stomach. Something happened to Ruth. It's the only logical explanation of why they would all come here and stared at the house for a moment.
"Do you, I don't know, think we should go in there?" Eddie questions.
"I don't think we should," Beverly answers, stepping back.
"Something brought us here for a reason. Why do you think we're all here?" Bill slowly replies.
"Not all of us are here, Bill. Ben must not have," Richie is interrupted when one more set of tires skid across the pavement.
Ben finally arrives on the scene by stumbling off his bike then joins the group. Ben stares at the house, his stomach queasy. He gulps then glances over at the others.
"I guess I'm not the only one. Do you think something happened to Ruth?" He nervously inquired.
Ben rubbed and squeezed his hands tightly, biting at his lip. Oh, god, I really hope not.
"I'm, I'm sure there's nothing wrong," Richie reassured, unconvinced.
Richie thought back to the nightmare he had this morning, only to shake it off.
Don't think about, doofus. Keep calm, he thought to himself.
"I'm going," Stanley announced.
He storms up the driveway with long strides, determined.
"Stanley, wait!" Beverly calls in a hushed whisper.
"I said, I'm going!"
Stan approaches the home and raps, loudly.
"Ruth!" He calls.
Silence.
"Ruth!" He yells, pounding harder.
He is greeted with more silence.
Stan's heart plummets, and stomach twisted.
"RUTH!" Stanley beats frantically, waiting.
When he still only heard silence, the feeling from earlier leaped to his throat. Stanley can't breathe; his eyes begun to sting from unshed tears.
Oh, god, no! RUTH!
He doesn't care. Stanley shoves himself against the door and barges inside. Stanley heard the others cry out, rushing over. He's sure some neighbors heard them. He hopes so, at least. Stan has this horrible, sickening feeling that something in this house is not right. With a shuddering breath, he steps further into the darkened home. His eyes adjust to the pitch black, scanning the silent living room as he passed down the hall. There's light emanating from a room ahead, illuminating the dark like a lighthouse and a black mass shadow striking the wall.
"Stan," called Eddie in a whisper once he stepped inside.
Stanley shushed him, easing towards the opening.
"Stan," Eddie whispered again.
"Shut up!" He shushed him again, glaring over his shoulder at him.
"You're not going in there, are you?"
"What do you think? Someone is in there."
"Yeah, what if they're waiting for you around the corner, you dumbass!"
The whispered back and forth, arguing.
"Just," Stanley holds a hand out towards them. "Wait there."
"Are you kidding me right now?"
He doesn't bother answering, Stan pushes forward.
Eddie starts forwards to stop his friend, only to get held back by Richie. He stood there, gulping harshly and shakily breathing.
Please don't let it be Ruth in there, Richie prayed to himself.
Stanley breathes shallowly, his heart drumming. He doesn't know what to think as he slowly approached. He doesn't know what is going to greet him. A passing thought of Ruth laying there dead scared the shit out of him. It haunted his mind as he continued to think about it. A vision replaying in his brain of the last time he saw the girl. He remembers the bright, confident smile and the flirtatious wink. Oh, good Lord, Stanley really does like Ruth. If it is her that is in there, he will be crushed.
Please, don't let it be, Ruth, he repeated in his mind.
Once he came to the edge of the wall, he heaves a breath. Stan prepared himself for the worse. He steps close and peered inside. At first, his eyes land on the enclosed wall then scanned the floor to the cabinets. Stanley's breath caught in his throat from the sight of blood drenching pale skin and pooled at the abdomen, the body motionless. It took him a moment to register what is lying before him then recoils with a startled scream, colliding into the wall behind him. His eyes not leaving Jordan's rigid corpse.
The group rushed forwards at that point. Eddie was the first to come around the corner and peek inside. He wished he hadn't. His reaction was the same as Stan's, and falls back, crying out.
"HOLY SHIT!"
"What? Who is, HOLY FUCK!" Richie exclaims as he looked inside.
Beverly gasps and covers her gaping mouth. She quickly turns, shuddering. The sight of blood made her nauseous, and doubles over. She whimpers and whines while sinking to the floor. Ben was there to console her after he looked at the body. He shook violently, staring off into space. Bill eyes the body with his mouth hung open, tears welling in the corner of his eyes. He's breathing heavily as if he was on the verge of a panic attack. A thought struck him then.
His breath pauses then glanced down the hall. Something inside him flips. Bill turns, his eyes landing on a bedroom when a horrible thought occurred to him.
This only made Bill sick to his stomach, and feels a familiar pang. He is stunned into horror, a sense of dread and emptiness overwhelming him. This was how he felt when Georgie disappeared. The panic he felt turns to sheer fright.
"RUTH!" Bill cries, then rushes down the hall.
"Ruth!" Mike calls, following Bill.
They both have tears falling from their eyes now. Bill got to the room first. He looked in and saw something unrecognizable on the floor. Panting, Bill takes his shirt and flips on the switch; he doesn't need to leave behind any fingerprints. Bill wished he hadn't turned on the light. Mike had screamed and fell backward against the wall. Bill can only stare at the sight before him, horrified.
Jonathan's body laid on the floor like a dissected frog, blood spilled the wood like an inkblot test.
"Bill! Bill, we need to," Eddie paused. He saw Bill's transfixed gaze, following it.
He looks in and screams. Eddie gags, promptly throwing a hand over his mouth and rush towards the front door. Richie approaches as well, very much alarmed. When his eyes land on the body, Richie's jaw drops and yells. They can hear Eddie retch just outside the house, gasping for air.
"Holy sweet fuck!" Eddie exclaims, retching again.
Stan sat where he was, panicking, frightened yet very much worried for Ruth now. He gulps, trying to catch his breath as he hyperventilated. He snaps his gaze off Jordan's body to Bill and Richie, eyes wide and brimmed with unshed tears.
"Is, who's in there, Bill? Who's in there?" He called out, wanting to cry.
No answer from him. This only made Stan whine, shuddering a sob.
"Bill! Is it Ruth? Please, tell me it isn't Ruth! Tell me it isn't Ruth!" He wails, crying now.
Beverly, who is still trying to recover, crawls over to him. She wraps her arms around Stan, clutching him as he wailed. Beverly cried as well. She doesn't understand why she would, but Beverly feels horrible. She sobs, shuddering, then glances over at Bill.
"Bill, is it, her?"
Bill turned his gaze on the two, stuttering but couldn't speak. Bill is in complete shock, yet also severely concerned for Ruth. He opens his mouth to try and answer but couldn't. Bill couldn't even shake his head. Discovering the Greyson's dead stunned him into a stupor.
Richie watched Bill struggle. He is now terribly concerned for Ruth.
"N-no, no, it's not, Ruth," Richie answers, his voice cracking.
The nightmare from the first night came back full force. He remembers the same ashen gray and blue Ruth with her head hanging to the side. She had crawled onto his bed and straddled him like earlier. It felt real, too. Richie remembers his parents rushing into his bedroom because he was crying out. The sheets had wrapped around his neck. When they removed the cover, Richie started bawling. The nightmare was a premonition.
Richie leans against the wall, staring off into space. He grimaces deeply, tears streaming from his eyes. Despite their sibling-like rivalry, Richie is terrified for Ruth's life now. Is she okay? If Ruth were, is she somewhere safe? Richie can only hope that she is and has someone who can help her. He and his friends, excluding Mike and Stan, treated her like everyone else. Richie treats Ruth like dirt when he shouldn't be. Although he enjoys the bantering to a degree at times.
Fuck, I'm an idiot!
Mike had finally looked away from the body, crying himself. When he arrived here with that sickening feeling, Mike assumed something terrible happened to Ruth. He is somewhat relieved that they hadn't found her yet. Mike can only hang onto hope that Ruth is okay somewhere in the house. Yet somehow, Mike feels responsible for all of this. He remembered the look in the adult's eyes. Jordan and Jonathan were livid. They intended to harm Ruth whenever she returned home.
I should have never come back here. Ruth must hate me now because I got her in this mess. Me helping only got Ruth in deep trouble. I broke my promise to Ruth, along with my granddad's, and I fucked up! Mike yelled at himself.
Ben watched his friends somberly. His cheeks are moist from his own tears. He glances over at Eddie, who finally stopped vomiting, lightly crying as well. The question still hanged in the air. Why were they led here? Were they supposed to discover the bodies? What about Ruth? Where is she? Is she safe?
Safe? Where would that be for her? Ben started to think. When he first met Ruth, Ben noticed something about her tone. She didn't want to be at home. Ruth would rather be somewhere else. At that point, he didn't want to get pulled into her problems. Was she never safe here? It then hit Ben like a cannonball crashing into the ground.
"Oh shit," he mumbles.
Beverly and Stan glance over at him. Richie remained in his spot on the floor while Bill and Mike silently approached. Eddie sat at the door still, sniffling. They all eyed him strangely.
"Ben?" Beverly gently calls.
"Oh shit," he repeated.
"Ben?" Eddie questioned.
"Oh, shit! Fucking shit! God, fuck, I am so stupid!" Ben screeched, tugging at his hair and wailing.
It hit him like a freight train. Ruth was never safe here!
"Ben!" Beverly stood quickly and took his face into her hands.
He's furiously crying, unable to look her in the eye. Ben should have known. He saw the warning signs; he even saw the scars and dismissed them. Ben saw a lot of things and ignored all of them. He should have known better. Ruth was trying to reach out to him for help that day. Ben should have remembered it all when Ruth was at the fair. Her sudden confidence made Ben believe that everything was okay.
"I am so fucking stupid. I shouldn't have ignored the warning signs. I should have done something to help." Ben blubbers.
"What are you talking about? It wasn't Ruth in the room. She's okay," Beverly consoles.
She looks over at Bill and Mike. "Right?"
"We don't know," Mike replies calmly, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Beverly glances at everyone. "How are we going to know? Is she even here?"
Bill and Mike glance at each other. "We have to search the house."
"Are you out of your fucking mind? We can't go around the house looking for Ruth without gloves on! It's basically a smorgasbord of evidence for the police to collect. Anything we touch will leave fingerprints." Eddie screeched.
"We, we," Bill stops, gulping.
"We have to look, Eddie. We need to be sure Ruth is okay," Richie replies for Bill.
"We have to call the police!" Beverly shrieks, still trying to calm Ben.
"Okay, here's what we're going to do," Mike starts, taking the leadership role right now.
"Beverly, go and get help. Tell someone we need the police and an ambulance."
"Don't you mean a hearse?" Richie darkly joked with little emotion.
"Now is not the time to joke around, Richie." Beverly implores gravely.
"I know, just," Richie paused, searching his brain. "Trying to make light of things, I guess. I may not get along with Ruth, but I'm worried about her."
"We all are," Eddie admits, wiping at his cheeks.
Beverly sighs heavily then quickly follows her instruction.
"We are going to stay here and look for Ruth. Make sure you don't touch anything and don't go near the crime scene. We need to leave it undisturbed."
Bill nods his head, agreeing.
Ben stood there, his tears slowly ceasing. "Who, who is in there?"
"Mr. Greyson," Richie starts. "Someone turned him into a dissected frog, and it's not pretty either." He didn't want to mention parts of Jonathan were eaten. They don't need to know that detail.
"You don't think Ruth did it, do you?" Eddie inquired, horrified at the thought.
"I don't think so. Jordan maybe, but I doubt Ruth did any of that," Mike responds.
"I don't think so, either. I mean, maybe, but I highly doubt Ruth had gone Jack the Ripper on Mr. Greyson. Well, Jackie the Ripper," Richie again darkly joked.
"Still," Eddie starts, wiping at his tears. "What makes you think she didn't kill any of them?"
Stunned at the notion, Stanley stood. "Ruth wouldn't kill anyone! Someone broke into their house and murdered them. They probably abducted Ruth!"
"But how do we know for sure Ruth didn't?"
Bill turned away, walking back to the kitchen. He stood at the edge, looking around. Bill saw the knife set scattered about the floor along with other utensils. He glances towards the hall, which Bill noticed dents in the walls. There was a struggle.
She was being attacked, Bill thought to himself.
He turned his gaze to the floor, noticing the smear of blood. Someone fell to the floor bloody.
Bill breaths deeply, taking the time to gather himself. "There was a struggle," He says finally.
The boys turned to Bill, observing him.
"How do you know?" Richie questions.
"There is a knife set scattered on the tile. I think someone was struggling with Mrs. Greyson."
Richie doesn't comment, just stood there. His shock is slowly fading, but the concern for Ruth remains.
"Let's look for Ruth while we wait for the police," Mike firmly suggests then went into the living room.
Eddie and Bill teamed up to look in the master bedroom while Richie searched in the hall closets. In the back of his mind, Richie hoped not to discover Ruth hanging in one of them. Stan, however, didn't move. He stared at the floor for a prolonged period before glancing up. Stan noticed the dining room was lit. A thought occurred to him then.
Since when do they eat together, he thought.
Stan quickly stood to investigate. Once he approached the room, he can see Mike coming in, too. They both stared at each other briefly then back to the mess before them. Stan approaches cautiously, scanning the scattered crab cakes and fried shrimp. He was confused at first until it dawned on him.
"Ruth is allergic to shellfish," he points out.
"Yeah, she told me about that. It started here," Mike announced when he saw the shattered pitcher.
Mike then glances over at Stan, who is curling his fingers into a trembling fist.
Stan opened his mouth to say something when Richie came in. "Phew, I didn't see her in the closets. I guess, hey wait, isn't Ruth allergic to shrimp?" Richie questions when he noticed the seafood platter on the floor.
He carefully approached the table, analyzing the angle. Richie saw the shattered glass, even noted the fork with blood on it.
"Ruth was sitting there. She flipped the table," he says.
"How would you know that?" Mike asked.
"Dude, look at the angle. I may not be Sherlock Holmes, but I know when someone flips a table over like an evil monkey."
They stared at him from the weird comment but said nothing. A long moment went by when neither of them spoke. Even when everyone regrouped, they all remained silent—all seven began to question why they were brought here but didn't discuss. By the time help arrived, their questions were answered. Ruth is missing.
In the coming week, they, along with the whole town, will know the truth. The Bastard Kid was never a bastard. In fact, Ruth's father was a well-known artist in Derry. He had disappeared several weeks after she was born, which no one knew Rutherford was expecting a child or dating. He was a secretive man, to begin with. Rutherford kept his love life to himself.
They learned that Jordan never married him since her real last name is Kershaw. They later found out that Jordan was the last person to see Rutherford. Butch Bowers came forward with that incriminating information. They are now investigating Rutherford's homicide after fourteen years.
Jonathan, her brother, which shocked everyone, was an escaped convict from Shawshank. He was in prison for multiple counts of murder, including sexual violence on women and young girls. Jonathan was supposed to get the electric chair for his crimes. When the police released how they discovered his body, the citizens of Derry applauded in satisfaction.
After the news of Jordan and Jonathan's death, a dark veil was lifted off the town. The police's goal now is to find Rutherford's daughter alive.
If only Ruth knew how horrible people feel now about her disappearance.
She may have a different opinion about this sudden change.