Chapter Thirty-Four #2
The mystery of why Robert had killed Nick’s mother bothered me, too. Had she crossed paths with him, interfered with his plans, or perhaps sought the grimoire for herself? Was this why Mathilda preferred to stay away?
"You think the others will come for us? The ones that ran away?" June pressed on, ignoring the cue to let Nick rest.
"I doubt it," Nick replied with a sigh.
June asked, "You think they’ll come for the grimoire?"
"Shouldn’t we just destroy it?" I cut in, my thoughts racing back to all the insanity and death this book had caused.
"No one will come for it. But if they do—well, that’s even more reason to hold on to it. Now, can you please let me rest a little? I’ve got a long drive ahead."
June persisted. "But what about that thing in the woods?"
"June, stop," Mitchell interrupted, his voice weary.
"Why? What if that monster goes on a killing spree now that we’ve set it free?"
"There was nothing in the woods," Mitchell cut her off firmly. "Just a bunch of crazies who kidnapped and killed people."
Nick didn’t even bother engaging, letting Mitchell hold on to his version of events. June pouted and angrily slumped back in her seat.
The truth was, I didn’t see anything in the woods. I was scared and hurt. Even Lucas’s phone could have been a hallucination. I regretted leaving it behind. It would’ve proven something. But maybe it was better that I didn’t bring it back with me. Admitting it was real was just as terrifying.
I looked back one more time. A white car was approaching us quickly. My heart started racing.
"There’s someone," I whispered in a tight voice.
Before Nick or the others could react, the car drew closer, its overhead lights flashing and the siren honking briefly. The Sheriff.
Nick stayed motionless, slumped in his seat with his arms crossed, but his posture stiffened.
"Are we in trouble? We should’ve kept the guns!" June panicked, but her brother gestured for her to be quiet.
The Sheriff leaned into the open window, his piercing eyes scanning each of us.
"All four of y’all made it out? No casualties?" he asked, his tone slightly amused, but it was hard to tell if it was genuine or sarcastic. No one answered; it was clearly a rhetorical question.
"Where is he?" the Sheriff demanded gruffly.
For a heartbeat, I wasn’t sure who he meant. But it became clear: Robert.
"Gone," Nick replied from the back seat.
The Sheriff’s gaze narrowed. "Is he dead?"
Nick sat rigid, jaw clenched. "We weren’t exactly in the mood to check his pulse."
The Sheriff’s lip curled. "Where’s the body, funny guy?"
"Gone," Nick repeated flatly.
The Sheriff’s eyes darkened, his stare like a threat. "Any chance someone might stumble upon him?" he asked, voice low.
Nick shook his head.
The Sheriff exhaled with a hiss. "I’ll take it from here when his wife notices he’s missing."
"Why are you doing this?" Nick asked.
"Because I have to."
"Then why were you covering for Robert?"
"Cause I didn’t have a choice. Now, get on outta here and lay low. Pray nobody comes lookin’ for ya. Big folks are gonna be upset."
"Maybe throw us a bone so we know what to expect? Mafia? The government?" Nick asked, and I couldn’t tell if he was teasing the Sheriff or being serious.
The Sheriff didn’t respond, just clicked his tongue, turned his back, and got into his car.
Mitchell waited until the Sheriff made a U-turn and drove off in the opposite direction. Then he started the car, and we kept moving. Whatever it was, we’d just been let off with a warning.
We gave Mitchell and June a ride to the terminal. Saying goodbye felt strange.
But wrapping my mind around the reality of what had happened was even harder.
It already felt like a distant, fading dream.
We each had our own perspective on the events of that night, and while they listened to my account with concern, Mitchell never wavered in his belief.
He was convinced that Robert had been part of a cult, that the disappearances had been meticulously orchestrated.
But the inexplicable earthquake tremor remained a mystery, and despite scouring the internet for news of a local seismic activity, we found nothing.
The same went for whoever was covering for Robert.
Somehow, he managed to instill fear in so many people, convincing them he was performing magic favors, and they drank his Kool-Aid without question.
June hugged both Nick and me goodbye, holding on to me a little longer, whispering, "We’ll still text, okay? Maybe meet up sometime?"
"Of course," I said, and I meant it. I had grown attached to her.
Mitchell wrapped his arms around me, mindful not to touch my back, then exchanged a firm handshake with Nick.
In the end, it didn’t matter much who believed what. What mattered was that we had faced some bad people and managed to stop them. We got the answers to what had happened to Lucas and Amanda, and to many others who had disappeared before them, even if those answers weren’t entirely clear.
Still, uncertainty lingered about the people the Sheriff had hinted at—their reach, their influence. Were they a secret society, a religion, weaving a web of power? It sounded like the plot of a thriller, but the world had seen stranger things. In the end, we had no choice but to leave it at that.
As soon as we crossed state lines, we stopped at a motel next to an auto shop—we couldn’t go much farther on the donut. While we waited, we used the time to get some much-needed rest.
Lying in bed, I turned to him.
"I saw you in the woods," I whispered, as if saying it aloud would make it more real.
I hadn’t said anything before. Everyone had been too caught up in other things, and honestly, I was so disoriented and confused that I doubted what happened, and it was hard to put it into words.
When I tried to tell them about it, only a mumble of disjointed, half-spoken sentences came out.
But now that I had time to process it, I needed to let it out.
Even though I wasn’t sure it had really happened, it scared me to death.
"What do you mean?"
"When I was there alone... I saw something. First, it was my dad. Just like I remember him from the funeral. But he was wearing this mask, like Robert’s men. Then it changed, and I saw you wearing the same mask."
Nick looked at me for a few moments, tentative, mulling over what I’d said.
"I was at the clearing the entire time."
The image of Nick with that mask on was so vivid. "Do you think I’m crazy?" I asked.
"Of course not. Whatever you saw—it’s legit. Whether it was real or not. It probably just took the shape of whatever was on your mind."
"Which means it wasn’t real?"
"I guess," he said, and reached out to gently tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear.
I wondered why I hadn’t seen Lucas in the woods. Maybe because, while the guilt I felt over him consumed me, he slipped out of my mind and heart completely.
The trip to Duluth took almost three full days because I couldn’t drive, and we both needed rest. It felt like a spontaneous decision, but it also seemed like the only reasonable thing to do.
I couldn’t show up at my mother’s house in the state I was in, with the car dented and too many questions waiting for answers.
Nick didn’t push me, but his offer to go to his place and stay there for a while made sense.
And deep down, I was starting to feel excited about it.
My guilt was slowly lifting, and I no longer felt the urge to run from him.
He had been right all along: running away doesn’t fix anything.
Nick seemed worried, though he didn’t voice his concerns. He avoided highways, opting instead for quieter country roads, which added even more time to our journey.
Every night, I was haunted by nightmares.
I kept waking up in a cold sweat, shaking, sometimes bleeding from the wound on my shoulder.
In my dreams, I was back in the woods, running from something I could never quite see, something always just behind me.
But I found comfort in the fact that I was dreaming again, after days of nothing but a black void every time I closed my eyes.
Sometimes, my thoughts drifted to Lucas. I wondered whether he had known what would happen, or if he genuinely believed his wish would be granted. I leaned toward the latter. He had trusted his own father, and in return, he had been betrayed and murdered. Sacrificed.
The thought sent chills through me every time.