Chapter Nine: Girl in the Mist

I wondered back to Heather's house. I could not get several things out my mind. Chris, Jared, and Jasper shared the same last names as those involved in the legend. Neither one of them appeared to like each other. Jasper and Chris probably only hung out because they were on the same football team. I did not recall them interacting with each other at the party. I wondered if they hatred between the families ended. If they were related to the original Blacks and Brents, I think not.

I pushed the back door open. There were so many unanswered questions. It just did not make sense. The locals either knew the truth or were not talking. I thought that it was the second option.

I picked an apple out of the basket on the kitchen counter. From what I could recall about life in a small town, people talked. Gossip spread like the flu. If people knew what had really happened, then I probably would not be sitting here wondering what really did happen on Isaiah Island on that foggy Christmas Eve. Whatever had happened must had been kept quite.

The question is why. Why would so much of the story be kept a secret from the locals? There was something missing. An important link was gone. The story was about murder. I would think that something that huge would still be talked about today. Small towns seemed to never forget events that involved crime. And what about the rumored diamond mine? From what I had seen of Weeping Lake there was nothing about it either. It seemed like to me that the town was trying not to remember what had happened here.

Something worse had happened than what Heather and Daniel had told us. What they told us made had been all that they knew, but something was missing. There was no reference to the events in Weeping Lake. I bit into my apple. There was always reference to tragic events, always. It did not matter where it was. There was always reference. No one wanted to forget what had happened. At Weeping Lake, it appeared that people did want to forget.

I mused into my apple as I took another bit. This town was like my apple. It was complete and welcoming, but had a huge chuck missing from it. It was a chuck that people were willing to smooth over and I wanted to know why. I knew that it was going to take some work and digging, but was willing to do it. Something was wrong at Weeping Lake. Something was very wrong.

I threw my core away and walked over to the kitchen window that overlooked Isaiah Island. The island looked just as empty as it did earlier this morning. I knew that I had seen something there last night. Locals avoided it, even the teenagers. I would have thought that place would had been a prime party spot.

I walked away from the window. I was not sure where to start my investigation. Normally, I would have tried the library. I had a strong hunch that if this town was trying to forget something that they would have gotten rid of all the evidence. Doing so would make it impossible for anyone to discover the secret of Weeping Lake.

I walked past Cheyenne's door which was cracked. I could hear voices coming from inside: male and female. The male voice sounded like Jasper's. I knew that I had dropped him off last night. I wondered if he had came back. I peeked through the crack and saw that Jasper was indeed there.

Cheyenne handed him his shirt. "Here."

He took it from her with a nod and pulled it over his head. He looked just as miserable as Jasper did this morning. "I didn't do anything stupid last night, did I?"

Cheyenne smiled. "Nothing more than usual."

"Great." He went bent over the bed and retrieved a pair of sweatpants.

"You don't remember, do you?"

"Do I not remember what?" he asked as he pulled the pants over his boxers.

Cheyenne studied Jasper as if she was trying to place her words carefully. "You promised to tell me what was going on."

Jasper snorted. "Now, I know for certain that I did not promise that."

Cheyenne let a hurt look rush across her face. "Whatever, jerk."

He went over to her side. "It's not that I don't want to tell you, it's just that I can't."

She glared at him. "Why not?"

"It's complicated." He sat down next to her.

"Oh, just like how it is between you and Chris." Cheyenne stood up. "Everything is so complicated with you!"
Jasper looked at the floor. "Katie, don't-"

"Don't what?"

He looked back up at her. "Don't yell at me about it."

She sat back down. "Then, why won't you tell me."

Jasper stared into her blue eyes. "It's too risky for you to know."

"Why?"

"Because he could come after you if you knew."

Cheyenne did not have to ask who he was. She already knew.

Jasper smiled at her. "If you must have an analogy, here it is. I hold the key of the world, but I am at the Reaper's door." He shook his head. "That did not make any sense."

Cheyenne shrugged. "It was a nice attempt."

"Yeah, right," he muttered. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I need someone to save me from myself." He watched as her face turned to confusion.

"Before I do something very stupid."

"What could be stupid about you are doing?"

"Oh trust me, there's plenty."

I crept away. I knew that I was missing something. I wondered if something had happened at the party last night between Jasper and Chris. I could also tell that Cheyenne knew there was something wrong. If the couple had been together since the third grade and were having problems, then something was defiantly up.

I went into my room still questioning about what I had just seen. I was not sure that what I had seen was a lover's quell or was Cheyenne wondering about the events happening on Isaiah Island. I was not sure if anything was really happening on the island. There was just so many questions with so few answers.

I pulled on a light jacket and left my bedroom door open. I walked out of the house and headed toward town trying to recall where I had seen the library. I could picture the town and everything about Weeping Lake, but the location of the library. I cursed myself. I guessed that I would just have to wonder around town until I found it. The town was not very big so I figured that it would not take very long.

I entered the town. Mist still hung over it, but the sun was attempting to pick through it. It was almost noon. I figured that it would be dusk before the sun's rays shed light on the town.

I wondered around the town for half an hour trying to locate the library. I passed the Village Market three times. That was when I remembered that Weeping Lake did not have a library. It only had a bookmobile that stopped every few weeks.

I felt very stupid. I could not believe that I had forgotten that Weeping Lake did not have a library. It had been such a shocker when I learned it. If I had been blond, I would had called it a "blond moment." I supposed that I could still call it a blond moment, even if I was a red head.

I cursed myself and started toward the park at the end of the road. The park looked kind of haunted and lonely as I approached it. It looked as if people rarely used it. Judging from the total amount of people I had seen today in town, which was twelve, there was not a lot of people around. I figured that town had all that it had was because we were so far out from everything.

I sat down on one of the five swings and kicked off. It creaked and squeaked with every move. I did not go very high for fear of the swing breaking. As a soared low, I watched as gentle waves came in off the waters. They crashed gently into the stone wall that surrounded the park. It seemed like Weeping Lake had a mind of its' own and that the town people were at the mercy of it.

I stopped my swing quick. A girl with pale skin and long, black hair emerged from the mist. She wore a simple, white dress and was bare foot. In her left hand she gripped a wad of papers. She moved gracefully as if she was floating on the mist.

She moved toward me and held out the wad of papers. "I have something for you," she said in an angel like voice. "I think it will help you unlock the secret of Weeping Lake."

I took the wad of papers. I looked at the first sheet. It looked like a story someone had written.

"The key is to read between the lines," she continued. She turned around and disappeared into the mist.

I sat on my swing holding the wad of papers. I could not even think of anything to say or do. This town was officially creeping me out.

With the wad of papers still in hand, I got up off my swing and rushed over to where the girl had disappeared. I could not see her. I reached the lake and there was still nothing. It was as if she had disappeared into thin air.

I looked at the wad of papers and went back to my swing. I unfolded the papers and stared at them. I began to read.

He looks around. Lean, fast. He leaps into the air. He can feel it pumping through him. The need for speed.

He increases his speed leaps over a building.

It is getting closer. Rather he is getting closer to it. The beta almost has the alpha.

Faster, faster.

Just a little closer, closer.

He comes to another gap between two buildings. He gets ready to jump.

Bang...

He falls in mid-jump. Pain shoots up through his arm. He bites back a cry of agony.

He must. He must stay quite. They will hear him if he makes any noise, any movement.

He can hear them talking, talking about him. They are discussing him. Discussing who he is and what he is.

Another round of endless pain spurts up his arm. It is getting to be too much. He bites his lip. He must stay quite.

He listens again. They are still here. Now they are wondering if he is dead or alive. They are not worried. Even if he is alive, he will be dead within forty-eight hours.

It does not matter to them. Either way, he is going to die.

It does not even matter to them that he was not the werewolf they want. He is a werewolf and they had shot him. He would be one less werewolf on the street hunting their children.

Yep, that is what they have made up in their minds.

Werewolf equals killer.

Werewolf equals murderer.

Werewolf equals evil.

He hears a door slam and a car drive away. He waits several minutes after he hears the last crunch of gravel. He has to be sure that they are gone.

He waits and waits.

He is still holding that cry of pain in. He is still afraid to let it out.

He looks around the side of the building. Nothing. There is nothing there.

It's all clear.

He let out that cry of angst that he has been holding in. It feels so good to let it out. Heck, it even takes some of the pain away.

He starts to run. He manages to do this of about a mile.

He stumbles and is breathing hard. What is up with this? He should be able to run one hundred miles instead of one.

He knows what the problem is. It is the bullet. It is killing him. It must come out.

As long as it is in him, it is going to kill him.

As long as it is in him, he is going to die.

He wonders around town looking for a solution. For the first, well maybe not the first, time he does want to kill. He wants to kill all of the hunters and huntress.

Sorry, cannot be sexist.

He wonders around until daybreak. He is now aware of all the looks he's getting. He can hear the whispers of what they think of him.

Druggie...

Drunk...

Heroin addict...

Pothead...

Dealer...

He knows he looks bad, but come on, not that bad. His rep was not the greatest to begin with and now this would totally break the mirror.

And least he hasn't Changed.

That would really take the cake.

Oh great, not only was he what the whispers say, but he's also a supernatural freak. He could see the headlines now.

Try explaining that one.

He goes to the school. He's always watched horror movies and has always wondered why they somehow ended up at the high school. He now knew why: it is where the help always is.

Why?

He has no idea.

It's just one of those things that tends to happen.

Yes, someone usually got injured or worse.

He approaches a boy. Asks questions and demands answers. He is a no nonsense kind of guy. The kid gets smart. He felt his claws come out, the first stage of the Change. He digs them into the kid's neck and applies pressure. It is not enough to do any harm. It is a warning stating that he is not to be messed with.

He lifts his claws and sees blood. He quickly transforms the claws back into his human hands.

He retreats to an entryway to a closet. He is breathing hard. It is getting way too hard to do a thing such as simple as breathing.

Ring...

He is right underneath of the bell. He puts his hands over his ears as the watts of the bell rip through his body. It really feels like as if his head is bursting into thousands of pieces of mush.

So, did he fail to mention that little issue?

Besides the breathing issue, he was also sensitive to light and sound. It was as he was a full werewolf while human. If that was possible.

He is pretty sure that it's not.

Lockers slamming, kids screaming, cell phones going off... It is all too much! He has to go. He must get out.

So, maybe the high school doesn't hold all of the answers like the movies do.

He steps outside and walks toward the student parking lot. He steps out and hears brakes slam.

He looks around. Wait, this is not right! He is on the ground.

He can hear people talking. Someone is loading him up into their car. He cannot tell what they're saying.

All he knows is that they are the good guys.

The ones who will help him.

And that's all that matters.

To be honest, that really did not make any sense. I folded the papers and placed them into my back pocket. The girl had said that the key was to read between the lines. Was I really going to listen to someone who had disappeared into the mist?