Tracks by Lyn I. Kelly

Author:Lyn I. Kelly [Kelly, Lyn I.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Horror, Fantasy, werewolf, Werewolves, young adult, Fiction, trains, small town
Publisher: Lyn I. Kelly
Published: 2022-06-17T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

OLD EVIL

Deputy Hedge felt slightly ill. He had been riding shotgun with Keller, slowly perusing and crisscrossing the streets around the high school for almost an hour, and though he rarely felt car sick, all this slow twisting and turning was starting to have an effect on him.

“Think he saw something and went after it?” Hedge asked.

“I don’t pretend to know what goes on in that boy’s head,” Keller replied after a lengthy pause.

“Yes, but Fountaine’s who you ride with most.”

“Doesn’t mean I know him any better than you do,” Keller said plainly.

Hedge shrugged. The Sheriff’s Department was too small for partnerships, the deputies instead riding on their own most times. It was more efficient and effective that way. When they did partner, it seemed—at least to Hedge—that Fountaine was with Keller more often than not, just as he usually rode with Reilly. He smirked at the thought. She had been so cold as of late. His dad had always said dating someone you work with was a huge mistake. Hedge now thought maybe the old man had actually been right about a thing or two.

“You okay, Hedge? Your face just got all sour-looking?” Keller asked.

“Nothing,” Hedge fumbled out, wishing he could hide things better.

“Mm-hmm,” the older man said with a smile, making Hedge wonder what the man was thinking.

“Have you ever seen this much…commotion in McGregor Falls?” Hedge asked awkwardly, hoping to shift gears. “I mean, you have the most tenure on the team. You have to have seen a lot.”

Keller looked over briefly before returning his attentions to the cold streets. “You mean all this death?”

“Yes, sir.” Hedge nodded, unsettled at the directness of Keller’s response.

“Can’t say I have, Hedge,” Keller responded.

“Nothing like it?”

“Trying to normalize all this?” asked Keller with a smirk, his eyes not leaving the road.

“Nothing normal about it,” Hedge replied.

“Yea, but I was young once. I know it can make you feel better if there is something to compare the bad things against.”

Hedge looked uncomfortably down at the floorboard, reflecting on the truth in the senior Deputy’s words. “The sheriff acted like he thought all this was not normal,” he said, almost defensively.

“Did the sheriff ever tell you about the Thompson kids?” Keller asked.

Hedge shook his head.

“You ever notice that huge gash on Palmer’s Oak, around halfway up the trunk?” Keller asked.

“That big tree in the town square? Some kind of accident happened there, right?” Hedge answered.

Keller nodded. “It was around eight years ago. The Thompson kids, a brother and sister, were coming one way. Old Mr. Braniff was driving the other—”

“Braniff? Any relation to Travis?” Hedge interrupted.

“Yea, grandfather,” Keller replied. “Anyway, the old man lost control of his truck, slammed into the kids’ car. He and the Thompson boy were killed instantly. The sister survived. I was a deputy at the time. So was the sheriff. We both saw the aftermath, the boy’s car cleaved into the tree, leaving the scar that still shines there today.”

“Accidents happen, I guess,” Hedge replied, wondering where all this was going.

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