Loser II || WlW

Thirty

  "Will you just check for me?" I ask Ron. "Just check to see if Officer Kyle took her down the mountain with him?"

Ron stops just outside the doorway and lets out a deliberate sigh. "Fine, kid. I'll be right back." He closes the door with the large glass window in it and locks it before he starts back toward the common room.

I take a second to check my surroundings. No dark corners for someone to be hiding in. No shadows for my mind to play tricks on me. Just a small room full of filing cabinets and bookshelves with a single office chair. I sit down, rest my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands but I can't keep from glancing at the door on the other side of the room.

Probably just a supply closet I tell myself but I can't stop thinking about it. What if Zachary's in there? Waiting to attack me when the time is right? I shake my head. Maybe I should have taken Zachary's prescription. I'm beginning to sound as insane as he is. I push to my feet, peer through the window in the door to see if Ron is on his way back yet before I make my way to the supply closet.

They already think I'm a murderer. It won't change much if they catch me snooping through their things but as I give the door a solid push, it doesn't budge.

I let out a long breath. Everything is fine.

But no matter how many times I reassure myself I can't stop looping through thoughts about what's on the other side of the door. I slide my hand along the back of the filing cabinet and find a keyring attached to the back. I try the first key but it doesn't work. I'm cycling through the key ring when the main door unlocks. I spin on my heel and shove the keys in my jacket pocket.

Ron stares at me, his thick, gray eyebrows pulled together.

I smile, hoping to force the conversation along before he questions me about what I'm doing.

He sighs, shakes his head, agreeing to ignore how guilty I must appear. "I couldn't find them," he says finally. "I'll go on and keep looking for you but it's my best bet they went down the mountain when you asked them to."

A boulder of weight is lifted from my chest. Part of me can't believe Brittany went with Kyle when I asked her to. It seems out of character but maybe she finally acknowledged that it would be safer if she left. Now, I can focus on protecting myself. I just have to wait for the police to get here and tell them what's going on. A formal investigation into Clementine and Jeremy's deaths will reveal my brother is behind them. He's insane, not a serial killer. There's no way he didn't leave evidence behind while he was carrying Clementine's body to the treetops.

"Thank you," I tell him.

He waves the thank you off and turns to leave but when I ask, "his car is gone then?" he freezes, his muscles stiff.

"What was that?" His words are slow.

"His car," I repeat. "Officer Hemmett's car. It's not in the driveway anymore?"

Ron turns and smiles. "You worry too much, kid. I will check the vehicle situation for you." He scurries from the room before I can say anything else.

I'm at the main door in a second, flipping through the keyring and trying each one. 

I have to get out of here.

Maybe I'm being paranoid but I don't trust Ron. I have to see for myself that Brittany went home. Once I check the area, I'll come back. No harm, no foul. But as I finish flipping through the keys on the ring, it's apparent none of them belong to this door. I stare at the lock an extra second, trying to think of a plan. There must be another set of keys somewhere in this room but something about the lock stops me dead in my tracks. The shiny metal compared to the dull wooden door. I can't put my finger on it but it feels wrong. Too new for such an old door. Too large. Who are they trying to keep out of a simple storage room? Or what are they trying to keep in?

I move to the other door and run through the keyring one last time. Somewhere in the middle, the key fits. I turn the knob, swallow hard, and open the door but nothing jumps out at me. There's no one hiding in the room. Only some empty cardboard boxes and a deep freezer off to the side. I pull the string above my head and fill the room with flickering white light from the single bulb dangling from the ceiling. There's no exit. No doors, no windows, not even a heating vent. After digging through some of the boxes, I flip the freezer open.

I'm so taken off guard by the image in front of me that I jump back, catch my foot on the corner of a box, and hit the ground with a thud, not stopping to think before I scoot back and press myself against the wall as far from the freezer as possible.

My hands are trembling and I can feel the images of my dad, bloody and lifeless rushing in on me as I pull my knees to my chest.

"Fuck," I mutter as tears stream down my cheeks.

I need to get up. Need to do something. Need to find Brittany but I can't breathe.

Using the wall to steady myself, I push back to my feet and stand on my toes to peek into the freezer again.

There's a body. A middle-aged man with brown hair pulled into a ponytail and a scruffy beard but the most concerning part is his nametag, still firmly clamped to the pocket on his flannel. The nametag that reads Ron. 

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Okay, so I'm late AND it's a short chapter. 

Sorry about that guys. I've been dealing with some health stuff and it is putting me way behind but I'm going to catch up today so you can expect the quality of the uploads to go back to normal tomorrow. 

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