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Jacker drove along what had once been a
road, but was now barely a dimple in the weeds, and the van
struggled through the overgrowth. Paul stayed back near the hill
and watched the van push through the field. Alma heard him curse,
but couldn’t discern what he was saying over the hum of his engine.
He motioned for her to get off the bike, and when she did he turned
it, drove off the path, and then parked in the wooded area. He
turned off the engine and got off.

“What’s wrong?” asked Alma.

“This isn’t a fucking dirt bike,” he said as
he took off his helmet. “I’m not risking riding through this
shit.”

“So we’re walking then?” asked Alma.

“I guess so.” He hung his helmet by the
strap over his handlebar. Alma did the same with hers and then took
his hand as they started down the hill.

“Thanks for doing this,” said Alma.

“Like I told you, you’re my girl. I’m not
about to let you come out here with these yahoos by yourself.”

They held hands as they walked through the
field. Alma enjoyed her time alone with Paul, and they talked about
their plans after this was all over. Alma was excited to return to
school, and set up her new music room. Paul was going to try to get
a job at a motorcycle shop on the south side where a friend of his
worked. They discussed their relationship, and laughed about how
things had gone wrong for them in the past. Alma chided Paul on the
way his apartment used to be so messy, and he promised that he
didn’t live like a sloppy college kid anymore.

Geese flew above them, away from Widowsfield
and to the north. Alma watched them go, somewhat envious. Despite
how happy she was to be with Paul, there was a creeping dread that
heightened with each step. No matter how much she tried to ignore
it, she knew she was walking back into the worst moment of her
life. Despite her desire to leave this behind, here she was,
walking right back into hell.

Like summer fades to fall, and winter gives
way to spring, this was inevitable. Alma Harper was willingly
walking back into Widowsfield.

Her respite had ended.

PART THREE : THE COIL’S
END

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Beyond the Shroud

March 12th, 2012

Alma and Paul caught up with the others at
the locked gate at the edge of the farm. Only a single bar was set
over the road, hinged on one side and padlocked on the other, but
the fence connected on either side of it. They would have to break
the lock to get the vehicles in, but they could worry about that at
night.

“This is it,” said Aubrey. She stood near
the gate, alone. Alma wanted to hate her, which was a catty
response to the stranger’s sudden interloping, but she felt sorry
for her at that moment. Aubrey looked uncomfortable, and aware that
coming on this trip had caused tension between Rachel and Stephen
for some reason.

Rachel was still in the passenger seat of
the van, which had been pulled off to the side in an attempt to
hide in the weeds. Stephen and Jacker had plucked out some of the
lighter equipment and were trying to figure out what they should
bring, and what should be left behind for now.

“God, this is creepy,” said Alma as she
walked up to the gate. The dirt road led past a decrepit farmhouse
and down a hill, past the barn, to a paved road.

“You can say that again.” Aubrey crossed her
arms and shivered though it wasn’t cold. “I didn’t wear the right
outfit for this.”

Alma looked at the girl’s short skirt and
designer boots. “Yeah, I’d have to agree with you on that one.”

“I was trying to look cute for him,” she
nodded back in the direction of the guys as they unloaded the
van.

“Who?” asked Alma. “Stephen? He’s
married.”

“No, not him. Jacker.”

“Oh, really?” asked Alma, surprised and
excited. Her initial reaction was dulled when she recalled what
Paul had told her about Jacker. She liked him, and loved the idea
of him hooking up with a cute girl like Aubrey, but the darker side
of Jacker was still a mystery to Alma.

“Do you know him well?” asked Aubrey. “He
seems like a nice guy.”

“I just met him. He’s a friend of my
boyfriend.”

“Paul, right?” asked Aubrey. “He’s a
hunk.”

“Eyes off the prize, sweetheart,” said
Alma.

Aubrey smiled and laughed, her dimples in
full effect. “Don’t worry, I’m no home wrecker. No matter what some
people seem to think.” She glanced at Rachel who was still sitting
in the passenger seat.

“Did she say something?” asked Alma, worried
that Rachel had ripped into the new recruit.

“No, that’s the problem. She hasn’t said two
words to me this whole trip. It’s fucking uncomfortable in
there.”

“I’ll talk to her, and try to see what’s up.
Trust me, she’s a sweetie once you get to know her. I’m sure she’s
just pissed off about something else. I wouldn’t worry about
it.”

Stephen opened the passenger door of the
van. “Time to go.” He walked away from Rachel, uncaring and
cold.

Alma looked at Aubrey and grimaced
comically.

“Told ya,” said Aubrey. “They were quite the
delight to drive with, let me tell you.”

Alma patted Aubrey on the back and then
walked over to the van. Rachel was still in her seat with the door
open when Alma approached. “Hey there.”

“Hi, Alma,” said Rachel.

“So, what’s the deal?”

“With what?”

“With the bitchy-wife routine?”

Rachel glared down at Alma. “Don’t you start
on me too.”

Alma stepped on the footrest and rose up so
that she was closer to Rachel. “I’m on your side here. I don’t even
know what’s wrong and I’m still on your side. Now tell me what
happened”

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” said
Rachel.

“You two coming?” asked Stephen. He was
standing with the others near the gate. They were ready to go, with
bags of equipment slung over their shoulders.

“Tell him he can go fuck himself,” said
Rachel so that only Alma could hear.

“We’ll meet up with you in a minute,” Alma
yelled over to Stephen.

The others begrudgingly left them
behind.

“Are you coming? Or are you just going to
sit in the van all day?”

Rachel eventually got out and slammed the
car door shut. They started to follow the others down the hill and
past the farmhouse.

“Now,” said Alma, “tell me what’s bugging
you.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Oh no,” said Alma. “I’m not letting you get
away with that after you made me tell you everything about Paul and
me. I can’t afford to take you out and buy you new clothes, a
manicure, a haircut, and all that stuff to butter you up until you
talk, but I can pester you until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s a long story,” said Rachel.

“Then you might as well start talking.”

Rachel grinned at Alma. “You would’ve made a
good reporter. You know that?”

“Come on, out with it. What’s up?”

“Okay, but you have to keep this between us.
Deal?”

“Deal.”

Rachel sighed and ruffled her curly hair as
she scratched her scalp. “Stephen and I haven’t had the greatest
marriage in history. We’ve had some tough times, and I mean really
tough times.”

“I can relate,” said Alma.

“He’s a good looking guy, and could’ve
gotten pretty much any girl he wanted.”

“And you’re a gorgeous girl who could get
any man she wanted,” said Alma. “What’s your point?”

“Well, he had a history, back in college, of
getting with a lot of girls. I don’t mind about that or anything.
Well, that’s a lie, of course. I obsess over that type of stuff.
But that’s all in the past. There’s nothing we can do about
it.”

“Better to just leave that stuff buried,”
said Alma. “I do my best to just pretend Paul’s never seen another
naked woman besides me.”

“Stephen had a definite type back in the
day. I’ve seen pictures of his old girlfriends and they all look
the same: Petite, thin, with blonde hair and tattoos. It’s fucking
ridiculous. Every damn girl looks like a carbon copy of the one
before until you get to me.” She motioned at her body. “Red haired,
tattoo-less, chubby girl.”

“Chubby?” asked Alma, perturbed. “Are you
crazy?”

“Look at these hips,” said Rachel. “I look
like I’m hiding watermelons down here.” She slapped her thighs.

“Oh my God, Rachel,” said Alma. “You
seriously need to shut up right now. You are the cutest damn girl
I’ve ever seen. I’d give anything to have your curves instead of my
Olive Oyl, broomstick body. If I ever hear you call yourself chubby
again, I’m going to slap you.”

“Well, thanks, I think,” said Rachel.
“Anyhow, last night Stephen texted me that he was headed to the bar
with Jacker. I told him to have a good time and that I’d meet him
up in our room. I got back to the hotel early and thought I’d go
have a drink with them at the bar. Then I get there and find the
two of them whooping it up with…” she motioned out at Aubrey and
stumbled on her description. “With that little pixie-tart.”

“Blonde hair,” said Alma. “Tattoos. I get
it.”

“Right,” said Rachel. “Exactly the kind of
slut that Stephen used to hang all over.”

“Stop it,” said Alma, chastising Rachel for
continuing to focus her issues with Stephen’s past on Aubrey.
“Besides, you’ve got him all locked up now. That’s the whole point
of a wedding ring.”

Rachel laughed at Alma’s naiveté. “Sorry,
honey. Hate to break it to you, but this,” she held up her left
hand and used her thumb to wiggle her ring back and forth, “doesn’t
do shit to stop them from fucking around on you.”

“Oh,” said Alma. “Did Stephen cheat on you
before?”

“No, and yes. Kind of, but not really,” said
Rachel. “I’m sure that makes a lot of sense. He never really
cheated on me, that I know of anyway. He just came close once, and
it was with a girl that looked a lot like his new little princess
up there.”

“Well, she’s not interested in your
husband,” said Alma. “Believe it or not, she’s going after
Jacker.”

“Really?” asked Rachel.

“I know, it’s weird. Not that I don’t think
Jacker’s a good looking guy or anything, it’s just that he’s so
big.”

“And she’s so small,” said Rachel. “That
would be an odd couple for the ages. God, I almost want to see them
hook up just so I can laugh about it. Can you imagine the two of
them in bed?”

“Stop it,” said Alma as she laughed. “Don’t
be mean.”

“Oh, now I feel like a bitch,” said Rachel.
“I didn’t talk to her the whole way here.”

“That’s what I heard,” said Alma.

“I saw you talking to her. Is she mad at me?
Does she think I’m a huge bitch?”

They got to the road and turned in the
direction of the town. The others were ahead of them, on the side
of the road.

“Let’s see,” said Alma. “Hey Aubrey!” She
yelled out to the girl.

Stephen turned and angrily hushed Alma. Then
Paul looked back and waved at them to hurry up across the
street.

“Oh shit,” said Rachel. “There must be
someone out there.”

Alma and Rachel ran across the street and
down into the ditch on the other side. Rachel lost her balance and
grabbed onto Alma’s wrist. They both fell and slid the last few
feet to the bottom of the muddy decline.

“That figures,” said Rachel, but Alma
quickly hushed her.

The others were hiding low as well and Alma
heard the rumble of a vehicle’s tires on the road. The wind swished
as a truck passed, headed north toward the farm.

“Do you think they found the van?” asked
Rachel.

Alma hadn’t thought of the possibility of
getting caught. She was so focused on going to the cabin to
discover what her father had been trying to hide that she hadn’t
considered the risk involved in getting there. If security found
Jacker’s van, and called the police, then they could all be in
serious trouble. It wouldn’t take long for the police to discover
that Jacker was a wanted man.

Widowsfield

March 14th, 1996

“She’s here,” said Jeremy Tapper.

He stopped the two boys that were carrying
the bowl of steaming water into the bathroom. They had oven mitts
on, and had accidentally spilled some of the hot liquid in the
hallway.

“Who’s here?” asked Mark as he stood in the
tub, his shirt off, waiting for the children to pour the searing
liquid on him.

“The Skeleton Man is going to leave us.”
Jeremy’s hand faltered. He had the razor pressed to his neck,
prepared to kill himself if his father didn’t do what The Skeleton
Man asked, but now he felt alone again. The chattering teeth
quieted and Jeremy felt lost without the noise.

“What’s going on?” asked one of the younger
boys holding the water. “Where did he go?”

Jeremy set his hand on the sink to steady
himself. “He needs two of them, but only one came back. She forgot,
but he can make her remember.”

“Jeremy,” said Mark. “Put the razor down.
Okay?”

Jeremy glanced at the other two boys, both
of whom had started to cry. “We’re lost now.”

“Who’s going to protect us?” asked one of
the boys.

“I’ll protect you,” said Mark. He nearly
stepped out of the tub, but stopped, fearful that Jeremy would hurt
himself. “I’ll stop whatever it is that you think is after
you.”

“No you won’t,” said Jeremy. “The Skeleton
Man protected us. This time he’s leaving. He’s going to try and
find the one he lost.”

“He loves her more than us,” said one of the
boys.

“No,” said Jeremy in anger. “That’s not
true. Don’t say that.”

“Yes it is true.” The boys set the bowl of
water on the floor and took off their oven mitts. “He’s going to
abandon us now that she’s here. He’s going to let the woman have
us.”