The Chosen Page 5

  The professor glanced up at the wall clock and then back to her. “Did you come to class to learn or drain your bladder?”

  Clarice would’ve thought of replying with a snarky remark, but she was too shaken to say it.

  “To learn,” she replied.

  “We have five minutes left on the lecture,” the professor said. “I believe you can wait that long.”

  Not voicing a reply, Clarice started back to her seat. The professor continued his lecture. Midway across the room, Clarice heard the door open.

  Dustin stepped inside.

  Clarice turned to him and froze.

  She locked eyes with the black figure hovering over Dustin’s shoulder. Its body was like an ethereal dark mist. His mouth was twisted upward into a crude, lipless smile. Its eyes were hollow black pits that stared into oblivion. Though Dustin locked on the professor, the thing had its vision directly on Clarice. It saw her just as she saw it.

  Clarice’s breathing quickened as a panic attack bubbled up inside of her.

  Guarding the only way out of the classroom, Dustin reached his hand into his hoodie pocket.

  Time seemed to slow down for Clarice as she saw the grip of a gun pull out of Dustin's hoodie.

  Something clicked inside of her. Instead of screaming or hiding, she charged right at the boy. He was too preoccupied with the professor that by the time he turned his head to Clarice, she had already slammed into him.

  They both crashed to the ground.

  Everyone gasped.

  The black thing that was on Dustin loomed over Clarice and laughed silently.

  Clarice ignored it, reached into the hoodie, and pulled out the pistol. She held it up.

  “Someone call the cops!” she shouted.

  Dustin stared at her with a stupid expression on his face. Noting another shape in the other side of his hoodie pocket, Clarice tossed aside the gun and pulled out the second firearm before Dustin could get it. She tossed that across the room too.

  The class all stood up in awe.

  “Hurry!” Clarice commanded.

  A few class members pulled out their phones.

  Clarice stayed on top of Dustin, feeling the overwhelming presence of the dark thing until authorities arrived.

  After the kid was escorted away in cuffs, the authorities asked Clarice how she knew Dustin had a gun.

  “I don’t know,” Clarice lied nervously. “Instinct maybe.”

  From that time on, the professor let her use the restroom anytime she wanted. The local news filmed a segment on the prevented shooting. The public hailed Clarice as a hero for about a week, and then the world moved on. Clarice’s school did not. Neither did Clarice.

  What she saw changed her. It wasn’t the first time either. But just like when she was a child, she had no clue what the ethereal figure was or how it got there. It left ethereal projections that followed Dustin’s path, almost like 3D footprints that only Clarice could see.

  Her search for answers began that day.

  The cell door opened, tearing Clarice from the memory.

  Officer Boyle stood at the threshold. “You’re free to go.”

  Clarice walked beside him, collected her things, and headed to the entrance hall. Her father waited there. He stood with his jacket folded in his arms.

  “I’m sorry, I--”

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to his broad chest.

  Clarice shut her eyes and hugged him back.

  His body heat was the opposite of the icy cell. They embraced for a long moment. Davis let go and looked at her with concern. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, Dad.”

  “They didn’t manhandle you.”

  “No, Dad.”

  Davis gave Officer Boyle a curt nod. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you,” the officer replied. “Tell her she can come back anytime.”

  The joke didn’t land well, but that didn’t stop Boyle’s goofy smile.

  Davis waved to the other officers. “Be safe, y’all.”

  “You too, Mr. Holburg,” one replied.

  Davis put an arm around Clarice’s shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s get you home.”

  Clarice followed him back to his large truck.

  Davis opened the passenger side door. “We’ll get your car from the impound lot tomorrow.”

  Clarice tucked her hair behind her ear. “Thank you.”

  She sat in the car. Soft bluegrass music played on the radio.

  Davis climbed into the driver side and grunted.

  “Momma’s not happy.” Davis put the car into drive.

  “I wonder why,” Clarice replied.

  “She’s worried about you.”

  Conviction tightened Clarice’s chest. “I am sorry for what happened. I was looking at a place I shouldn’t have been.”

  “Don’t you worry about a thing,” Davis replied. “I’ll get you some hot cocoa when we get back, and we’ll let bygones be bygones.”

  Clarice leaned back and looked out the window.

  Davis drove with one hand on the steering wheel. “I’m surprised Chief Cain didn’t call after you got put in the tank.”

  “Maybe he’s still mad about that horse,” Clarice remarked.

  Davis gnashed his teeth. “Seventeen years and that man still has a stick up his butt about that whole ordeal. It wasn’t even a great horse. I was doing him a favor.”

  “You sold it to his brother-in-law, didn’t you?” Clarice asked, trying to remember all the small-town drama she used to gobble up when she lived here.

  A cocky grin curved up her father’s face. “Pew. No one could refuse that offer.”

  It was no small wonder why the chief of police wasn’t the biggest fan of Mr. Holburg.

  They got back to the ranch and Clarice had her promised hot chocolate. She took a long shower and crashed.

  The next morning, she got up at sunset. She fed Rorschach and took him out. The autumn air cut against her as she rode. Her platinum hair billowed in her wake. She let her mind become free as she focused on speed. The horse took her through the fields of yellow wheat and around the edge of the property. Every time the horse kicked off, its muscles rippled underneath its skin. Clarice got into a nice groove, but she’d forgotten about the toll riding took on her inner thighs. After three hours canvassing the property, Clarice started back home.

  She got back to the ranch and saw that Luis’s SUV was in the driveway. Clarice dismounted, led the horse to the watering trough, and patted it as it lapped up the clean water. She put him back into the stable and returned inside.

  A rubber bullet hit her between the eyes.

  Clarice rubbed her brow, unsure what just happened.

  “You’re dead!” One of Luis’s twin boys yelled from the loft above the kitchen. He reloaded his toy Nerf gun.

  The other twin ran by Clarice and shot at his brother.

  Clarice grabbed the back of his shirt, stopping him. “Let me see that.”

  He smiled widely and gave her the gun. Slightly hunched, she made her way under the loft and up the ladder. When the kid was looking over the other edge, Clarice flanked him and unloaded the entire Nerf gun into his back. “Gotcha!”

  The kid let out a dramatic cry and pretended to play dead. Clarice blew away the invisible smoke on her gun and tossed it down to the other brother.

  “I see you found the weapons,” Luis said with a slow Southern drawl. He was standing at the bottom of the ladder, dressed in a nice collared shirt and expensive jeans. A tan cowboy hat rested on his head. “I can’t separate the boys from ‘em.”

  Clarice gave him a lopsided smile. Sweat stained her forehead and underarms from the ride. She climbed down. “Good to see you, Luis.”

  “I got a real gun in the trunk I was thinking about taking down to the range. But I’m short on bullets. You should come with me to the store.”

  “Sure,” Clarice said. “Let me change into something clean first.”

  She headed t
o her room and swapped shirts from the open duffel bag on the floor. She rubbed a stick of deodorant under her armpits and headed back to the main room. Luis was talking quietly to his boys. One was crying.

  Clarice stopped in the hall and listened.

  Luis said. “You understand?”

  “Yes, Pa,” the crying one said.

  “Good, now go play your game.” He patted the boys on the back.

  Clarice stepped out of the hall as the boys walked on. She spoke quietly and with a small smile. “Trouble in paradise?”

  Luis didn’t reply. He just watched his boys walk on with a nasty gaze. “Ready to go?”

  Whatever was bothering him, Clarice decided it was best not to pry. She climbed into his truck. She wanted to ask him to take her to the impound lot but didn’t want to broadcast her arrest.

  They drove in silence. The A/C blasted.

  “How are things?” Clarice asked.

  “Good,” Luis replied. He wasn’t exactly the most emotive person in the world.

  “That’s good,” Clarice replied, feeling the awkwardness in the conversation. “Tell me about this famous ranch of yours.”

  “I bought another three acres past the Felcher farm. I’m looking to get some boys to mow the hay,” Luis said.

  Clarice nodded. “I’m glad to see you’re expanding.”

  “I gotta make a living somehow,” Luis replied, keeping his eyes ahead.

  Clarice acknowledged the SUV’s glossy interior. “It looks like you’re doing pretty well for yourself.”

  “Could do better,” Luis said. He pointed at some farmland. “I’ve been looking to buy that land.”

  “That’s been owned by the Holands forever,” Clarice said. “What are they asking for it?”

  “Nothing yet,” Luis replied.

  Clarice smiled. She turned to him. “Bro, you’ve gotten ambitious since I’ve been gone.”

  “It’s not ambition. It’s legacy.” Luis replied. “I gotta leave something for the kids.”

  “What about Dad’s ranch?” Clarice asked.

  Luis frowned. “It ain’t mine.”

  “It’ll probably be passed down to you,” Clarice said.

  “That won’t make it mine,” Luis replied.

  They pulled into town and headed to the local market. There were more people out the sidewalk today. They eyed Clarice with hostility. Clarice didn’t pay much mind to it. She followed Luis into the general store. They passed through the various aisles. More people eyed Clarice. They made their way to the section at the back that sold guns and bullet boxes.

  As Luis looked over the various calibers, Clarice asked, “How is Katie?”

  “She’s good,” Luis said.

  “And the boys?” Clarice said. “What grade are they in now?”

  Luis looked over a box of shotgun shells. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  Clarice’s brow wrinkled. “What happened?”

  “Nothing. But I’m sure you’ve noticed they’re a rowdy bunch.”

  “Kids are kids,” Clarice said.

  “I’ve been reading about raising ‘em, and I think it's more an environmental thing. Nurture over nature.”

  “Wow, I’m glad to hear you’re reading. I was worried about you for a while,” Clarice teased.

  Luis turned to her, sporting a serious expression.

  Clarice’s smile faded.

  Luis said, “Those boys need positive influences.”

  “Keep them away from Mom then.” Clarice joked. She didn’t know where all these zingers were coming from, but she enjoyed them. Being with her brother must’ve turned her back to her adolescent self.

  A heavy frown sank Luis’s face. “Mom’s not the problem.”

  It took Clarice a second to understand. When she did, her face became hard. “How did you hear about last night?”

  “I know you went to jail.”

  Clarice put a hand on her hip. “Yeah, but who told you?”

  Luis shrugged. “This is Jasper. Everyone knows everything --”

  “-- Was it Mom?” Clarice talked over him.

  Luis continued. “--Just like you were going from house to house, getting into everyone’s business.”

  Clarice shut up. Her eyes were daggers. She chose her next words carefully. “I made a mistake. I’m sorry.”

  “There must’ve been a lot of mistakes to have you running home, living out of that suitcase,” Luis said as he picked up his ammo box.

  Clarice gawked at him. She shut her mouth. Her jaw flexed as she felt her temperature rise. She tried to cool herself. “What’s with the attitude?”

  Luis walked over to the register.

  Clarice followed behind him.

  Luis fished out some crisp bills. “I don’t want my boys exposed to any more bad stuff. Having Peter around is bad enough as it is.”

  “So I’m the reason for your kids’ disobedience?” Clarice asked to clarify.

  Luis thanked the man at the register and counted his change. After he backed away from the counter, he said quietly, “Don’t embarrass me around these people.”

  Clarice couldn’t believe what he was saying. She let out a frustrated laugh.

  Luis walked ahead of her. “I just think it would be best if you would stay away from my boys.”

  Clarice tried to keep her cool. “What does Katie think about all this?”

  Luis paused at the car door. He glared at Clarice. “My kids. My decision.”

  Clarice was tempted to walk home, but looking at the number of people that were giving her nasty looks, that didn’t seem like an option. She got into his car and unintentionally slammed the door.

  Luis glared her. “Chill out, will ya?”

  Clarice shook her head in total disbelief.

  They returned to the ranch. The next few hours were awkward, to say the least. Luis didn’t talk to Clarice and Clarice couldn’t talk to his boys. Hannah was still unsure why Clarice was home and kept giving her the cold shoulder. Davis picked up on the tension quickly and decided to spend the day alone in his office. After Luis and his boys left, Clarice returned to her room. She crashed on the bed. Her mind raced as she thought about the strange symbols carved into that cabin’s wall. She felt in her gut that something bad was coming. She sat up, reminding herself that she needed to put aside the petty family drama and get to the bottom of this case.

  Someone knocked on her bedroom door.

  “Come in!” She called out.

  Davis opened the door enough to stick his head through. “There’s a guy at the door for you.”

  Clarice followed him to the front door, wondering if it was Officer Boyle. She couldn’t think of any other guys that had taken any interest in her.

  Dressed casually, Officer Matthews waited on the porch. He had his hands in his pockets. Sunglasses covered his multi-colored eyes.

  Clarice didn’t do well to hide her surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  Matthews replied. “I was hoping we could talk.”

  7

  Freedom

  Clarice wasn’t sure how to respond.

  Davis seemed none too pleased to see Matthews as well. “Off-duty?” he asked with a little bit of anger.

  Matthews nodded. “Until tomorrow, yeah. I was hoping I could take Clarice out for a bite to eat.”

  Davis burst into laughter. “You’re funny, boy.”

  Matthews smiled awkwardly, unsure if Davis was making fun him.

  Clarice saw a small shadow lurking on Matthews back. It hid behind his shoulder. Clarice replied to Matthews. “I’ll go with you.”

  The by-the-books cop seemed surprised at first, then quickly returned to his normal, neutral expression. “I’ll drive.”

  He hiked down the steps and to his truck.

  Clarice and Davis exchanged looks.

  Davis said, “Call me if he tries anything.”

  “Will do,” Clarice replied.

  She sat in the passenge
r side of the truck. Matthews put it into gear and headed toward town. Soft country music played on the radio. He kept his hands on the three and nine o'clock positions and sat with perfect posture.

  “This isn’t a ruse to arrest me, is it?” Clarice asked half-jokingly.

  “What do you think?” Matthews asked.

  Clarice was about to reply when she saw a small smile creep on the corner of his mouth.

  “Funny,” she replied, though not particularly amused.

  Matthews took her to a small mom-and-pop restaurant that had been in the town for generations. It served classic country fixings. Yellow polka-dotted tablecloth covered the wooden tables. Black and white photographs were mounted on the walls. It smelled of fried chicken, fried apples and fried orka. There weren’t many patrons this late in the afternoon.

  Matthews found a table by the window. He kindly pulled out Clarice’s chair for her. She thanked him and took a seat. She wondered if he thought this was some sort of date but decided not to assume anything until she learned what he wanted.

  Matthews seat across from her. The waitress came by asking what drinks they wanted. They both ordered water and browsed the menu.

  Matthews removed his sunglasses and hung them on the neck of his shirt. His multi-colored eyes scanned Clarice’s face as if he was trying to get a read on her or something.

  Clarice glanced around the restaurant. “Are you sure it's okay for us to be eating together? I’m not the most liked person in the town at the moment.”

  “You invaded people’s privacy,” Matthews replied.

  Clarice replied. “What’s wrong with chatting with someone who has suffered recent loss?”

  “Rumors spread fast here. It's not about what you actually said to them, it’s about the context. You visited the victims and the family of the killer, grilling them both for answers.”

  “Aren’t they both victims?” Clarice asked.

  Matthews didn’t reply.

  Their water arrived. Clarice ordered a rotisserie chicken, buttery green beans, and fried apples. Matthews went with the country fried steak with an extra side of gravy.

  Clarice asked, “Who is spread the rumor about me, anyway?”