She opens her eyes.
She's on her stomach, on the forest floor.
Where am I? What's happening? I'm trapped in a storm? How did I get here? And where is here?
She gets to her feet, shivering violently. Her clothes are soaking wet. She looks down at her hands. They're her hands, which she finds strange for some reason. What's more strange, though, downright alarming, in fact, is that they are covered in blood.
What the fuck?
Looking around frantically, she spots a path between the trees, rising up a slope. It looks familiar. It looks like… the path to the lighthouse.
The lighthouse! I'll be safe if I can make it there.
She starts climbing, but something is different. These trees, they aren't quite right. This path is familiar, but darker somehow…
Lightning flashes, followed closely by a crack of thunder, and she sees it above, instead of the clearing and the lighthouse on top of the cliff, a black mouth of a cave.
There is a doe standing at the entrance, looking at her.
She freezes, because the doe is transparent.
Wait, this isn't right.
She's in the back seat of a car. It's her dad's car, there's a country song on the radio, and William Price is driving, but the family picture sticking out of her mother's purse on the seat next to her is of them with the smiling, mustached David Madsen.
Terrified, she wants to hide it before her dad sees it, but a moment later she forgets all about the photo, because she recognizes the street and knows what is about to happen. A raven flashes across the windshield, its caw loud like thunder.
You know. That is why you're in the back seat and not in the front.
Fuck you. You're wrong. I would never. I wasn't there.
"Dad!" she screams, to prove it, to warn him.
He turns to her and asks, "What's the matter, sweetheart?" just as the truck smashes into them from the left, and she phases back in.
Steph's concerned face is hovering above her. She's sitting on the ground next to the scenic map of Arcadia Bay, five feet away from the lighthouse cliff. She's clammy. She feels like she's been in a fight. The lighthouse tarot-towers above her, covering half the sky. Down below, the town is a washed-out sepia print of itself.
"How long was I out?"
"You were out?" Steph asks, helping her up.
"Felt like it."
"You just sat down suddenly. Did you have another vision?"
"Yeah, and… not a good one."
"Was it about Pan Estates?"
"I… don't think so. But the timing is sus. And this skull is definitely pointing somewhere in the neighborhood. I just wish I remembered why I tagged that on there. Or that I tagged it at all. For all we know, some bored kid entertained herself with minor vandalism."
"You said you recognize your style though?"
"I mean, it looks like one of mine, because it's a black marker and because it's pirate stuff. But I don't remember doing it, and it's just a skull and bones tag. How personalized can it be? All the kids love pirates."
"But then you also had the vision...?"
Chloe thinks about it, looks up at the lighthouse, which is just sort of standing there now, not doing much, then scans the clearing, which isn't unveiling any other hints.
"Ugh. Fine, if that's supposed to be the big helpful clue from the magical lighthouse, let's go see what's there. But first we need fuel."
They drive to Arcadia Gas and fill up the tank. Once it's full, Chloe fills the canister. The sun is starting to break through the clouds now. Out on the empty beach, some kid in a hooded sweatshirt is sitting cross-legged on the sand, taking pictures of the ocean with their phone. As she watches, a plume of smoke rises above the kid's head. Far off to the right, the corner of Frank's RV is peeking from behind some bushes.
"We're gonna go stop by the junkyard real quick," she tells Steph, as she climbs back in.
American Rust greets them like a best friend they ghosted for five years: with arms open for an embrace and memories. Carcasses of cars and boats, washed by the rain, look like they just died. Barrels, cans, wheels and old signs are beaming with bright colors. Rainwater pools in the mud sparkle in the new sun.
"What's the plan here, Chloe?" Steph asks. She doesn't seem to be feeling the vibe.
"We need to find some empty bottles." Five ought to do. "Also some cloth."
"You mean…?" Steph lets the question hang, as she stands there with a pained look on her face.
"You know what? I got that. You just…" Prep the range. "Stay on the lookout."
"You sure?" Steph struggles to say. "I can… I mean… I could… Chloe, why do we need to touch hazardous trash?"
"You'll see. Be right back."
It doesn't take long. Certainly not as long as it took Max to find the bottles in her dream. She also finds a torn flannel shirt that reminds her of Rachel in a way that must be purged with fire. Steph, who's on her phone when she returns, hangs up and views the harvest with a great deal of distaste.
"Oh, Steph. Can you go to the junkshack and get a funnel? There should be one lying around in there." Chloe says, using her boot to pin one end of the shirt to the ground as she pulls the other to rip it apart.
It dawns on Steph now.
"Bottles, cloth, and… a funnel?" she asks. "Are you… making Molotovs?"
"The weapon of the Resistance," Chloe says, raising her fist above her head.
"Chloe, I don't like this."
"Not any worse than pouring it out of a can. And a whole lot faster and more awesome."
Steph agrees, grudgingly, and walks off, trying to avoid mud and puddles as much as possible.
They go about the work in silence. Chloe tearing the shirt into thick ribbons, then holding the bottles and the funnel while Steph pours the gasoline. Tearing rotting flannel is actually harder than it should be, so she pulls out her knife and instantly regrets it, because it reminds her of the bloody hands and sets off a whole barrage of flashbacks, old and new.
Chloe stabs Frank.
Chloe stabs Nathan.
Chloe stabs a marshmallow.
Chloe stabs Damon Merrick.
Callamastia stabs Duurgaron.
Chloe stabs David Madsen.
Chloe stabs Mark Jefferson.
Chloe stabs a doe.
There is laughter coming from the junkshack. Or cawing. She creeps over there, knife in hand. There's music on the radio. Something that sounds familiar, but she can't identify. The words are garbled. Like it's playing backwards. As she enters the shack, everything is silent. The radio is off. The shack is empty. On the wall, the graffiti says Rachel IS here. There's laughter behind her and Rachel's voice "Oh, you have no idea. So clingy!" She spins around and it's Rachel in the doorway, with Frank, who glitch-morphs into Tommy Hill. His arm is wrapped around Rachel's shoulder. They halt and stare at her. Tommy's face is confused. Rachel's - mocking, challenging.
Chloe stabs Tommy Hill.
Chloe stabs Rachel.
"Listen, Chloe," Steph says, bringing her out of the trance. "How big is this Pan Estates place?"
Chloe stares up at her as the pain and fear settle like disturbed silt in the pit of her stomach.
She swallows.
She breathes.
The knife is on the ground in front of her, and she doesn't want to touch it.
"OK, Steph," she says. "Here's the deal, and it's not negotiable. If it turns out that it is the Pan Estates. I mean, the actual thing that we need to burn, I am taking you back to the diner. You understand?"
"No, Chloe…"
"Steph. No. You're not coming with. Burning an abandoned hut in the middle of the woods is one thing. Pan Estates? You're not going to be an accessory to that."
"OK, but…"
"No buts, Steph."
"Chloe, be quiet! I'm trying to say it's a subdivision! Which means it's a whole neighborhood with a bunch of houses. 25, 50, a 100! You can't Molotov a hundred houses."
"Oh."
She sees a blueprint in her mind, of a large building. There is "Pan Estates" on the bottom of the image, and "Confidential" on the top. "Lobby Level" in the left corner, and a bunch of sloppy red crosses for the camera locations.
"They also have some sort of a… bigger building I think. Like an HQ or something. Anyway, I've never actually seen the place. We have to go and scope out what's what. But if and when it comes to burning, I'll set shit on fire by myself."
The beer bottle Molotovs look too small and sketchy as fuck. Chloe gets a milk crate from the shack and an old raggedy-ass comforter to prevent the bottles from rolling all over the truck bed and shattering, but it still feels like they'll be driving around with a homemade bomb that can go off any second.
They don't talk about it.
The drive through the town is exactly as depressing as it always is.
Chloe smokes.
"Who did you call?" she asks, to think of something that does not involve a knife and blood-covered hands.
"My mom. I… didn't tell her what we're doing."
Chloe nods. "Everything OK?"
"Yeah. Raining up in Seattle, too."
She sees Max, briefly, taking a Polaroid of some blurry people climbing a giant troll sculpture. They are under a bridge. The troll is clutching a Volkswagen.
There is no fucking way she would ever stab Rachel. No matter what she saw.
She knows it didn't happen.
Fucking knows it.
Tommy Hill is alive and well, right?
He was there when Rachel vanished.
He would know if instead of vanishing into thin air Rachel was knife-murdered by a blue-haired punk, right?
Then why the fuck is this fucking flashback stuck in her head still?
What if Tommy Hill lost his memory, just like she did?
No. Fucking stop it.
What if instead of stealing Rachel, the invisible thing that lived in the hut in the woods took both of their memories, sending Chloe to run flailing home through the rain and knocking Tommy out to think it only took a moment?
No fucking way.
What if instead of vanishing into thin air, Rachel's body was rolled off the bank, to float away down the river and eventually into the ocean?
"Shut the fuck up!" she shouts, slamming on the brakes.
She covers her face with her hands and sits like that until she calms down.
It's not the first time, so Steph just waits.
Chloe takes a deep breath.
"I hope we're getting close, Steph," she says, staring forward. "I don't know how much more of this I can take. This shit is fucking with my head."
"What did you see?"
She can't say it for maybe a minute, then she does.
"That I killed her."
"You didn't."
"I know that. Now."
She drives on.
The Pan Estates billboard where the new road splits off into the eastern foothills is wet.
The new road is pristine, tar-black asphalt, with freshly painted yellow lines in the middle and ditches paved with white gravel. The first rows of trees on either side were cut away to make room for trimmed lawns. It's only a mile long, and as they come around the base of a hill about half way there, Chloe suddenly pulls off to the side and stops the truck.
"Was that the police?" Steph asks.
"Arcadia's finest," Chloe says. "I guess they're guarding the entrance in their spare time. Just helping the good Prescotts out. Gonna have to find another way in. Don't want to be spotted here five minutes before shit catches on fire, you know?"
"Is there another way?"
She thinks about it.
"On foot. Through the woods."
Turning around, they drive back and north a ways, and park the truck in the hospital parking lot.
Chloe grabs the gun and definitely not the knife, then dumps the contents of Rachel's backpack on the seat, takes a Molotov from the crate and puts it inside. Hesitating for a moment, she adds another one. The bottles clink together, making both of them wince. The bag is too small for the comforter, so she takes off her dad's jacket and wraps it around one of the bottles.
"That'll smell nice later," she says with a nervous chuckle.
"I thought we were only going to look first," Steph says.
"It's a two mile walk. I don't feel like hiking back and forth fifty times. I'll have to send you back by yourself, if it comes to that. Shit, maybe it's better for you to just stay here with the car right now."
"No, I'm coming."
They climb the low fence and head east. The last time they were here they parked on the opposite end of the lot, climbed the opposite fence and walked into the woods going in the opposite direction. To the cave. She tries not to think about it, but it's no use.
You can never escape the thoughts here.
The cave with the dead doe is that way, and this here is the hospital where she brought Rachel three years ago, bleeding out from a stab wound. Damon Merrick did the stabbing that time.
But it was you who let it happen.
Though the ground stays even, there is really no path, so they have to make way by zigzagging between and climbing over fallen trees and moss-covered rocks, some of which are as thick as they are tall. By the time they reach the new road again and turn to follow it eastward, they're tired enough to require a breather.
"Chloe," Steph says, looking at the picture of the lighthouse map on her phone. She's leaning against a tree stump the size of a small church. "Can you really tell what this marker is pointing at? I mean this map is…"
"Yeah, I know," Chloe replies. She's sweating. Her face is red. "The map is shit. The clue is shit. Hell, we're probably already inside that skull and bones now."
She turns away, hands on hips, heaving breaths.
"So we're looking for a better clue," Steph says after a minute.
Chloe stares at her over her shoulder. Her eyes shine in the scattered rays of the sun. Finally she nods, turning away again, looking down at her shoes.
"Yeah. Looking for a better clue. I was about to say we should turn around and head the fuck back to the truck, but... yeah. That's an option as well."
She breathes in deeply.
"I mean, the clue is shit, but if you're looking for an evil place or thing in or around Arcadia Bay, a Prescott compound is a pretty natural choice. Unless you do want to turn around and head back to the car?"
"Let's just be careful," Steph says, shaking her head.
"Careful is my middle name."
"Pretty sure it's Elizabeth."
Chloe stops in her tracks.
"How the fuck do you know that, Gingrich?"
"I… don't remember."
Chloe narrows her eyes, and they set off again.
The ground is surprisingly dry. Eerily dry. It is as if the trees were parched, and all of the rainwater was immediately sucked in by the roots. Or maybe the Arcadia Bay rains don't reach here. Maybe like the rest of the plebs, they aren't invited.
A few long minutes later, they see the gate arm barring the road, with a security booth and a police car next to it, which takes off almost as soon as they come close enough to see it through the trees. The cop heads back towards town.
"I guess the shift is over," Chloe says, saluting with her middle finger.
From where they are, they can't make out if there is anyone in the security booth, but it's a pretty safe bet the booth is occupied, so they stay well out of sight.
A hundred more yards to the east they come to a low wooden fence you see in the movies about the cowboys and the mustangs. Except instead of encircling a pasture, this fence just runs off north and south through the middle of the woods. Adding weight to the theory about the Prescotts running a sign business, there are Private Property and Do Not Trespass signs on like every fifth post.
Chloe wishes she still had her marker, so that she could tag at least a couple of these fuckers.
"Something criminal?" Chloe asks three years earlier in the cabin of her truck.
"Criminally fun," Rachel replies.
They climb over and just like that they are breaking the law. Soon, the first house of the subdivision comes into view. It's easily twice the size of 44 Cedar, maybe thrice. Definitely more than thrice the price. It's got these floor to ceiling windows looking at the forest and a stone-paved patio. The woods have been pushed back a good hundred feet to allow clear space for the backyards, and as they come closer, Chloe can see the other houses of the same row, four of them before the row curves to the right and out of sight, all with identical patios. There are no people, cars, or any other signs of life. The view is somehow dystopian, apocalyptic.
"Ghost town, USA," Steph whispers.
"Who the fuck do they think can afford to live in all of these?" Chloe asks as they follow the curving line of backyards farther east, and as more houses come into view. "There are maybe five people total in all of Arcadia Bay, and who in their right mind would move to this shithole from anywhere else?"
In another minute dozens more come into view: other side of the street and farther out, on hill slopes and hilltops, huge empty windows shining in the sun under the trees. To Chloe's surprise, there are several different house models in the Pan Estates, and a lot of the houses are actually normal-people-sized. With like, single-car basement garages. Maybe even almost affordable.
Except you would owe the Prescotts.
Eventually, the easternmost point of the Pan Estates swings into view, where, nestled in the saddle between two wooded hills and a mountain, between a radio tower of some sort and a water tower not unlike the one at Hamlet or Arcadia Bay, except much newer and with no graffiti, sits a three-story red-brick building that looks almost like Blackwell, minus the clock.
"Look, that must be the Asshole HQ," Chloe says. As she says that, this weird pain shoots through what feels like the entire surface of her skin, because she doesn't suppose, she knows that it's the HQ, as if she's been there before.
"Because you have," the homeless lady says. Except she's dressed in hospital scrubs. In her hands is a copy of Ignis Corvusque, which she drops inside the burning garbage can. On the other side of the can is Samuel. He also drops a copy of the same book into the fire, but does not speak. Instead, he just stands there looking at her. Waiting silently.
Waiting for what? Fucking tell me! Don't just stand there! Give me a clue! Tell me about the dark room!
She screams.
She rushes forward and kicks the garbage can, knocking it over. A gust of wind sweeps past her and a great fountain of sparks showers the lower branches of the white oak, of which she only now becomes aware. The tree catches on and in two seconds is entirely ablaze.
"Too bad you didn't become friends with the Tobanga," Samuel says.
The raven caws.
It flies in from the west, its wings passing over the sun for a brief moment.
The world blinks.
Chloe realizes she's back, and that the raven is a real bird. It circles above them, caws again, and flies off, first southeast towards the HQ, but then veering off suddenly and heading northeast into the woods. She looks over at Steph, who's staring back at her without saying anything, which is understandable, because to say something like, "Was that a sign?" out loud would be pretty stupid. They're both thinking it, though, Chloe is pretty sure. A sign that means what, exactly?
She looks at where the raven disappeared, then back towards the HQ.
Is there something in the woods? Did it want her… to follow? Or was it about to lead her towards HQ and then spotted a dead squirrel in the brush and decided a snack was more important? And the HQ… Why does it look familiar? Would she be able to recover some of her lost memory if she goes there? Or would she just find a Prescott or some of their hired help and get arrested for trespassing?
Since leaving the hospital parking lot, they still haven't seen a single person, not even the guard in the booth. From the hill to the right of the HQ building, a huge chunk of a hillside has been carved away, the earth and the trees both. The resulting empty lot is full of various construction machines that look like they paused a second ago in their work on building a strip mall, but there are no workers there, either. Didn't they have a grand opening already? Or was that bit from the hallucinated, time-rewinding future?
"Let's keep going, Steph."
"Which way?"
Good fucking question.
"The HQ, I guess."
They continue forward along the outer rim, which keeps curving towards the brick building. There are still no people, but as they get closer, they see several cars parked in the building's parking lot. Suddenly, a man appears out of the front entrance. He is wearing a black suit and tie. He descends the short stairway, looks around for a minute, then climbs into a luxury black SUV. Even from where she is, even though she can't remember when was the last time she'd seen him, Chloe knows the man. Sean Prescott. Nathan's dad. Arcadia Bay's second most illustrious son. Douchebag Extraordinaire. The SUV revs up, backs up and disappears down the empty street. In spite of herself, she's relieved.
"People," Steph says.
"Prescotts don't count."
"Oh, was that…"
"Himself."
As they stand there listening to the sound of the car's engine fading in the distance, they become aware of a faint buzzing. It comes from from somewhere behind them, gradually becoming louder. Instinctively, they duck behind the tree trunks, though they can still see nothing that could be making the sound. Until it's practically on top of them. A drone, passing over the crowns above, following the tree line in the same direction they were walking, towards the HQ.
"Shit. Do you think it saw us?"
B400 EVO, a thought comes.
"I doubt it. The woods are pretty dense here. Hard to spot anything, especially if you're looking from the top. And we were clinging to the trunks."
"What the hell are they flying the drones for?"
Steph shrugs. They're both whispering now.
"Maybe making sure no one is breaking into these empty houses."
"They're empty. What's there to break in for?"
"Vandalism? Seemed to me the locals weren't exactly happy to be kicked off their land."
"Yeah, go figure. Anyway, I'm starting to have a bad feeling about this. Let's just get there."
"So what's the plan once we do?"
"Hoping to see something that will remind me why I know this place."
"You know it?"
Chloe nods."And maybe something that looks like it needs to be burned more than... normal."
They continue to make their way through the trees. Like the Blackwell and the hospital parking lots, the parking lot in front of the headquarters has a low concrete fence around it. They duck behind it and survey the area.
The building is ugly, utilitarian, but otherwise a run of the mill office building that sets off zero new bells. A large glowing sign on a brick pedestal at the entrance to the parking lot reads in big black letters on white background: Prescott Development / Pan Estates.
On the left, up a slope is a cell or radio tower. There are speaker-looking things and 3 large satellite dishes mounted on it near the top. A path runs from building towards the tower, ending in a gated wire fence. On the opposite side of the building a similar fence encircles the water tower.
They spend some time waiting for a sign from the building, but Chloe is still not getting any new flashbacks, and no one else comes out. Motioning for Steph to follow, she creeps around the perimeter of the parking lot, coming closer to the cell tower. Inside the fenced-in area around the base of the tower, in the shadow between the trees, there is a door leading into the mountain. It looks like an entrance to an abandoned mine or something. There are remains of an old rail track and a crooked sign above the rotten wooden wall barring the entrance that shows a large "T" against the background of a black triangle.
"Prescott power, activate," Chloe says three years earlier at the Overlook park.
She bashes the viewfinder with the metal plate bearing Prescott's name, until it gives up the quarter.
"You see that door?" she whispers.
"What door? Oh, the one in the…"
"Yeah. I think we need to check it out."
"OK."
There's a very large padlock on the wire gate. They follow the fence to where it comes in touch with the mountain, which, because of the slope, leaves a triangular space between the fence and the mountain about halfway up. It an easy climb and they are standing in front of the door in no time. The tower creaks and groans behind them.
The door is inside a larger wooden wall that is covering the old cave entrance, either natural or carved into the mountain by the mining operation long ago. The boards that make up the wall are nailed to the woodwork that used to support the mine, and the whole thing, including the door, hangs a couple of inches off the ground, giving an unsettling impression that it could come down if pulled hard enough. The door has no lock or other visible means of security. Not even a knob or a handle. A "Danger, Keep Out" sign is hanging on the wall to the left of it.
"Anything?" Steph asks, after Chloe stares at the door silently for about a minute. She glances back at the HQ building, several of whose windows are facing in their direction. There's nothing to hide them from view except for the tower, which does not provide a lot of cover.
Chloe shakes her head, but reaches forward and pushes the door. It swings inward with a creak, about as far as it is pushed. The entire wall rattles. Chloe steps up and pushes the door more, until it's fully open. The resulting opening reveals earthen walls, rails and wooden supports of an old mining tunnel, stretching darkly into the distance.
She thinks she hears a sound that she can't quite place coming from somewhere deep inside the mine. She gets closer to the doorway to try and listen more and hears it again, but also, she hears a buzzing coming from behind them. It's the drone again. They spot it skimming the tree line off to the west, getting closer and closer. In a few seconds it will spot them. The doorway is clearly their best chance to hide, and there's a tempting, mysterious sound, but...
Is that fear?
"Chloe," Steph whispers.
I know. I know.
With a glance back at the drone, she steps through the door, Steph close behind her. But as soon as her foot crosses the threshold, she's stopped, like she walked into a wall. Steph, who fairly runs into her from behind, pushing her into this invisible barrier, doesn't exactly help. With an "Ow!" and a "What the fuck?", they bounce sideways along the wall and tumble, spinning, to the ground. The bottles inside the backpack on her back clink dangerously. Stretching her hands in front of her in a delayed reflexive action, Chloe thinks she finally lost it, because the bracelet on her wrist is glowing bright blue. And then it's just a normal bracelet again, and in the sky between the mountain and the tower hangs the drone.