Page 132 of Into the Dark, We Go
The Sheriff didn’t respond, just clicked his tongue, turned his back, and got into his car.
Mitchell waited until the Sheriff made a U-turn and drove off in the opposite direction. Then he started the car, and we kept moving. Whatever it was, we’d just been let off with a warning.
We gaveMitchell and June a ride to the terminal. Saying goodbye felt strange.
But wrapping my mind around the reality of what had happened was even harder. It already felt like a distant, fading dream. We each had our own perspective on the events of that night, and while they listened to my account with concern, Mitchell never wavered in his belief. He was convinced that Robert had been part of a cult, that the disappearances had been meticulously orchestrated. But the inexplicable earthquake tremor remained a mystery, and despite scouring the internet for news of a local seismic activity, we found nothing. The same went for whoever was covering for Robert. Somehow, he managed to instill fear in so many people, convincing them he was performing magic favors, and they drank his Kool-Aid without question.
June hugged both Nick and me goodbye, holding on to me a little longer, whispering, "We’ll still text, okay? Maybe meet up sometime?"
"Of course," I said, and I meant it. I had grown attached to her.
Mitchell wrapped his arms around me, mindful not to touch my back, then exchanged a firm handshake with Nick.
In the end, it didn’t matter much who believed what. What mattered was that we had faced some bad people and managed to stop them. We got the answers to what had happened to Lucas and Amanda, and to many others who had disappeared before them, even if those answers weren’t entirely clear.
Still, uncertainty lingered about the people the Sheriff had hinted at—their reach, their influence. Were they a secret society, a religion, weaving a web of power? It sounded like the plot of a thriller, but the world had seen stranger things. In the end, we had no choice but to leave it at that.
As soon as we crossed state lines, we stopped at a motel next to an auto shop—we couldn’t go much farther on the donut. While we waited, we used the time to get some much-needed rest.
Lying in bed, I turned to him.
"I saw you in the woods," I whispered, as if saying it aloud would make it more real.
I hadn’t said anything before. Everyone had been too caught up in other things, and honestly, I was so disoriented and confused that I doubted what happened, and it was hard to put it into words. When I tried to tell them about it, only a mumble of disjointed, half-spoken sentences came out. But now that I had time to process it, I needed to let it out. Even though I wasn’t sure it had really happened, it scared me to death.
"What do you mean?"
"When I was there alone... I saw something. First, it was my dad. Just like I remember him from the funeral. But he was wearing this mask, like Robert’s men. Then it changed, and I saw you wearing the same mask."
Nick looked at me for a few moments, tentative, mulling over what I’d said.
"I was at the clearing the entire time."
The image of Nick with that mask on was so vivid. "Do you think I’m crazy?" I asked.
"Of course not. Whatever you saw—it’s legit. Whether it was real or not. It probably just took the shape of whatever was on your mind."
"Which means it wasn’t real?"
"I guess," he said, and reached out to gently tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear.
I wondered why I hadn’t seen Lucas in the woods. Maybe because, while the guilt I felt over him consumed me, he slipped out of my mind and heart completely.
The tripto Duluth took almost three full days because I couldn’t drive, and we both needed rest. It felt like a spontaneous decision, but it also seemed like the only reasonable thing to do. I couldn’t show up at my mother’s house in the state I was in, with the car dented and too many questions waiting for answers. Nick didn’t push me, but his offer to go to his place and stay there for a while made sense. And deep down, I was starting to feel excited about it. My guilt was slowly lifting, and I no longer felt the urge to run from him. He had been right all along: running away doesn’t fix anything.
Nick seemed worried, though he didn’t voice his concerns. He avoided highways, opting instead for quieter country roads, which added even more time to our journey.
Every night, I was haunted by nightmares. I kept waking up in a cold sweat, shaking, sometimes bleeding from the wound on my shoulder. In my dreams, I was back in the woods, running from something I could never quite see, something always justbehind me. But I found comfort in the fact that I was dreaming again, after days of nothing but a black void every time I closed my eyes.
Sometimes, my thoughts drifted to Lucas. I wondered whether he had known what would happen, or if he genuinely believed his wish would be granted. I leaned toward the latter. He had trusted his own father, and in return, he had been betrayed and murdered. Sacrificed.
The thought sent chills through me every time.
35
Chapter Thirty-Five
December, 2020
