18.98: An ONC 2023 Thriller

Chapter 11

THE PRESENT

Graham's flashlight guided them back to the trailhead. As they hiked, Liv imagined the glowing eyes of forest predators peeking out between bushes, or instead, the ghastly empty eyes of otherworldly beings hovering overhead, all setting their sights on her, tracking her movements, ready to pounce.

They reached the parking lot and the relative safety of Graham's car just in time for exhaustion to kick in.

Clicking his seatbelt into place, Graham let out a long yawn. They'd barely spoken since he'd found her, her unwillingness to explain what happened escalating an unspoken tension that left her sad and weary.

"We shouldn't drive all the way home," she said, hoping he'd understand her words were meant for his benefit. "It's too far and we're both tired. Can we stay somewhere nearby?"

He started the engine and backed out of their parking space without replying to her. They made their way out of the park, turning north onto highway 101. Just outside the town of Forks, Graham pulled up at a log cabin-styled motel with a weathered sign that read Forest to Sea Inn.

"I'll find out if they have any vacancy," he said.

A few minutes later, he returned dangling a key. "Last room." He opened the car door for her. "Hope you don't mind sharing."

Liv wasn't exactly a sharer, but she was known to make exceptions when it came to men and beds. Sex would be so much easier than having to unpack her emotions or explain to him what had really happened back in the forest... or back at other points in her history. She was willing to give him the bliss of amnesia if he let her.

Inside the hotel room, her fantasies of a single bed scenario were dashed. Two queen-sized beds with non-descript brown comforters offered them each plenty of their own space. A wave of exhaustion hit her again. Maybe she didn't need sex to avoid a long-drawn-out conversation with him. Sleep was the best amnesiac of all.

She claimed the bed further from the door and lay atop the comforter, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for sleep or monsters or Graham to take her. The springs on Graham's bed creaked as he sat down on it.

"I don't understand you, Liv."

And here it was, the beginning of the inevitable. "That's probably for the best." She rolled towards him, propping her head up with an extra pillow.

"It's not for the best." A shadow crossed his face, making his eyes appear hollowed out. "It's not what I need."

"What do you need?"

"To find my sister. That's why you're here. But sometimes... I'm not sure if that's what you want." He frowned. "Is it?"

She dragged herself to an upright position. Their knees brushed. "What did Helina tell you about Penelope?"

He flinched. "Answer my question before you ask your own."

"I'm trying to. Just tell me, Graham."

"All right. They were out investigating a haunted windmill."

"Wind turbine. There's a difference."

"Fine. A turbine. And there was an accident. Your sister... she fell."

"She fell. That part's right. But how'd she get up there?"

"What?"

"I was told she fell from partway up the turbine's tower. How did she get there?"

He turned his palms towards the ceiling and shrugged. "I'm going to have to plead ignorance about how wind turbines are designed."

"Let me fill you in then. You climb it by accessing an inner staircase. Once you get to the top, there's a platform, and you can use climbing gear—a harness, ropes, pulleys—to propel down to where you need to go. The thing is, she didn't have access to the inside ladder, and she had no climbing equipment with her. She had no experience climbing. Never even took much interest in rock walls at the playground. To get to where she supposedly fell from, she'd have needed access, equipment, and experience. She had none of those things. So... what happened?"