The Green Children: A Sycamore Moon Novel (Sycamore Moon Series Book 3) (23 page)

 

 

 

 

"Holy shit," muttered Maxim under his breath. "Annabelle?"

Diego eyed him strangely. "What did you call me?"

"It's her," the detective answered.

The girl stood there, wearing the same ruffled dress she had drowned in. Her baby blue eyes shone against his dim LED. Just a few feet away, the girl waved at him and smiled at her key chain.

Maxim had to be dreaming, but everything felt so real. He released the flashlight button and jingled it. It sounded real. And Maxim remembered the entire day. He couldn't recall that ever happening in a dream. But there was one way to find out for sure. The detective reached for the girl.

Annabelle Hayes turned on her bare feet and sprinted away.

"Stop!" cried Maxim. He barreled through the low branches and gave chase. Diego yelled for him to wait but his words were muffled. Maxim crunched ahead through bushes and batted pine needles away from his face.

The woods weren't thick enough to impede him much, but the girl was fast. She dashed between trees with abandon, not even bothering to check on him. Maxim swore he saw Annabelle skip once or twice. She was carefree, almost. Playing.

"Maxim!" yelled Diego behind him. "Don't do it. Come back."

The detective didn't slow. She was getting away and he couldn't risk losing her.

Annabelle banked sharply and Maxim skidded in a patch of soft weeds. He didn't stop himself so much as ram his shoulder hard into the trunk of a large sycamore. He winced but ignored it and took off in the new direction, keys wildly jangling in his hand.

"Don't run, Annabelle!"

The girl darted from tree to bush to tree, partly obscured yet always in his sight. He noticed her haphazard path had no bearing. She was quicker than the detective but wasn't trying to outrun him. She took another turn and Maxim adjusted early, closing the gap between them.

"I just want to talk," he said, trying not the scare the girl.

A ribbon from her dress flapped in the air behind her. It brushed against Maxim's outstretched hands just as she leapt forward off the edge of an overhang. Too late Maxim realized the ground ran out beneath him. His gaze shot down when he felt nothing under his flailing feet.

The ledge wasn't high, or the fall dangerous. But it was unexpected. Just six feet below, Maxim landed hard on his knee and tumbled to the ground. He did a full somersault, which he hadn't done in twenty years, and groaned as he scraped to a stop. He immediately shot his head up and turned to Annabelle.

Or, he turned to where she should've been. Whether she'd landed on her feet or not, her momentum would've carried her away from the small ledge. The tree cover had thinned on this lower ground, but the girl wasn't anywhere in sight.

Maybe he
was
dreaming.

"Maxim!" called Diego, who skidded to a stop before he could make the same fall. "You okay?"

The detective ignored the man and continued scanning the horizon.

The biker hopped down, boots thudding solidly beside Maxim. "What the fuck was that about?"

"Annabelle," repeated Maxim. "Haven't you been paying attention? Open your eyes."

Diego frowned at the pronouncement. "My eyes are open, Maxim, and I didn't see anyone."

"Come on."

"There's no one else here. Just you and me. At this point I don't even know where Dan is."

"I'm not crazy," insisted the detective, limping to his feet. "And I've never felt this much pain in a dream before, so this is happening."

"What's happening?"

"I saw Annabelle Hayes standing right in front of me, Diego. It was her. Unmistakably. I was playing with the—" Maxim tapped his pockets, then searched the ground. "Where are they?"

Diego grew unusually silent. He watched Maxim pace back and forth as he looked for the keys.

"I was playing with the flashlight and making noise with the key chain, remember? They were in my hands. That's when I saw the glyph. That's when Annabelle showed up."

The biker grinded his teeth and slowly approached a nearby tree. Maxim followed his gaze and saw yet another Celtic cross scrawled on the bark.

"It's not her," said Diego solemnly.

"It has to be," insisted Maxim. "You know what Olivia told me today? She told me her daughter was still out here. That the one that returned home to her was an impostor. She said she knew her real daughter was still alive."

Diego turned away and took a long breath. After a minute he hefted himself back up the ledge and sat upon it, feet dangling over the edge. "I don't mean like that, Maxim. If you say you saw Annabelle out here, I believe you. But it's not her. Not anymore."

"Meaning?"

"It's what used to be her."

Maxim's throat welled up. He knew what the biker was saying, but he didn't believe it. Not if there was still a chance to save Annabelle. The detective checked the trees again. He saw more carvings. They were close to something.

"Listen to me, Maxim," urged his friend. "Just stop for a second."

Maxim kept surveying the ground. "The keys. There was something in that audio. Something I was missing. There might be more. I need to find the keys."

Diego changed tack. "What was the name of that boy I found, again?"

Maxim rubbed his face. "What? Todd Payton. Why?"

"I told you I saw him before. It wasn't from a picture and it wasn't in the news. He was the one I saw in the woods that day." Maxim turned to the man. "He led me to his own bones."

Maxim didn't have the heart to protest. He paced back and forth, incredulous about dropping Annabelle's key chain. About Diego's statement.

"Kayda says this land is rife with spirits. She told me that before I ever mentioned anything about dead children. I didn't believe her at first, but it's the only way to make sense of this."

Maxim finally stopped searching the ground and leaned against a solid tree. His knee hurt anyway. "Children in the forest," he mumbled, remembering the reports from Lachlan Munro and Jason Bower. Red was compromised. He could've been lying or fucking with them. But Jason didn't have a reason to. "It wasn't Annabelle and her hoodlum friends. It was these..."

"I don't know what they are, Maxim. But Kayda has an idea."

The detective rubbed his eyes. He saw a sort of natural order in the explanation, even if it was supernatural. "If what you're saying is true, then it's too late to save Annabelle."

Diego nodded gravely. "Kayda said, 'Fay beget fay.' Annabelle's one of them now. The green children."

Maxim slid down the tree to the ground. He wanted to say it was ridiculous, but he couldn't. "She chose it," was his wistful reply.

Neither of them spoke for a bit. Their thoughts were clear. Annabelle had danced with the children of Sycamore. She had seen their carefree ways and wanted to stay with them. That's why she'd been restless. Why she'd run again at Echo Canyon. And, failing that, that's why she'd sought peace in the water.

"He doesn't kill them all," whispered Maxim.

Diego cocked his head at the announcement.

"Munro. He never abducted Annabelle. He never had anything to do with the local kids. He's too careful for that. But the kids he did kill—the Todd Paytons from hundreds of miles away—he dumped them here. He killed some of them, but he didn't kill them all."

The biker gasped. "The old man said the children continually pestered him. Maybe the ghosts from his past are gathering against him."

"Exactly."

"It explains the iron," said the biker. "Defense against the spirits. I've seen the danger firsthand."

Maxim shook his head. "But they're kids. All of them. Even the autistic daughter, Alice Radford, swore there were no adults involved. So the kids do what kids do. They play and sing and dance and find other kids to play with."

They heard some rustling behind them and spun around, ready for anything. Ranger Briggs appeared. "There you are! I didn't see you stray off. Something the matter?"

"No," said Maxim. "I just slipped." The ranger contemplated them curiously. Maxim wondered if he saw through the lie. "Did you find a key chain on your way over?"

The ranger shook his head.

Diego ignored the interruption and suddenly became somber. "So even if we find Red, we don't know where Hazel is."

"She's with them," said Maxim. "The children. And we know they congregate by the water."

The park ranger climbed down the ledge and patted Maxim on the back. "Well, children and old men alike, they all need to drink. That's why we're out here, right?"

Diego and Maxim traded a conspiratorial look.

"I have to say," continued the ranger, "I'm pretty embarrassed to be outdone by you two."

Maxim lifted an eyebrow. "How do you mean, Briggs?"

He regarded them plainly. "Wounded Ranger Tank. I've been here twenty times and you were the ones that found it first." Maxim and Diego watched in confusion as the ranger marched past them. "You were right, Diego. You followed the carvings." He pointed at several trees with the symbols on the way. When they followed, it didn't take long to understand.

The ground banked lower as they moved along the crevice wall. They pushed through a pocket of ivy and landed in a small glen with a pool of brackish water.

Maxim swore in disbelief. Ranger Briggs would never believe them, but it wasn't the glyphs that they had followed.

 

 

 

 

The peaceful glen was covered in shade. Surrounded by a hill and large pines with ivy snaking between branches, it was textbook beauty, if a bit creepy. The actual water tank was nothing more than natural drainage on sloping ground that sat against a twenty-foot overhang. The area was no wider than a baseball diamond.

"I don't understand," said Diego. He moved closer to the water but stopped short of jumping in. "There's nobody here."

Ranger Briggs crossed his arms. "After all the time it took to find, too. But don't worry, we've got other options."

"This has to be the place," stated Maxim.

Diego knew that to be true as well. What Maxim had seen wasn't an accident. They'd been led here by one of the dead. By one of the green children, who enchanted innocents and bedazzled intruders. This was their inner sanctum.

The ranger shrugged. He didn't know what they knew. "Well," said Dan, "I'd better radio out that we've cleared this tank. We can do that on the higher ground on the way out."

"I want to look around," said Diego.

"Suit yourself, but we're about to lose the sun. It's gonna get real dark real fast. I'll be back after I update them on our status."

Ranger Briggs hiked back up the way they had come to look for a signal.

"Maxim..."

"I know," said the detective. "We're missing something, right?"

"She's close."

"Maybe." Maxim scratched the scruff on his cheek. "Then again, Annabelle and Hazel never knew each other. We'd found Annabelle separated from everyone the same night Hazel Cunningham went missing. It's possible they never crossed paths."

"But the green children are the common link. They would be close together."

Maxim didn't answer.

"It's worth checking out," said the biker. Diego started around to the other side of the tank. "Since you hurt your knee, I'll climb the ledge on this side. I want to get an overwatch of the area."

Maxim circled the tank as well, examining the fresh shoreline where the water recently rose to after the storm. The long grass was flooded and sagged over.

"Why don't you use your green flashlight again?" asked Diego.

"I couldn't find it. It's like Annabelle took it back."

The biker stopped in his tracks. "Maybe that's the only reason she came back," he posited. "Maybe she wasn't helping us."

"I don't believe that."

Diego resumed his pace. It was a thought, anyway, but he wasn't sure what to think anymore. He hadn't said nice things about the girl when she was alive. Maybe he was right and maybe he was wrong about her then, but he had to believe she was on their side now.

He turned to say as much to the detective and found Maxim crouching beside the dark pool. He scooped water into a crushed plastic bottle. It wasn't one of those the ranger had supplied. Maxim held the half full bottle to his eyes and a stream of fluid leaked from a crack in the base.

"Or," suggested Maxim, "maybe Annabelle was here to lead us to Lachlan Munro." He held up the disposable bottle as evidence. "Aqua Vitae. I saw this same brand in the front cab of his RV. Someone had tried to fill it here and dumped it when they noticed the hole. Briggs said he'd need water."

Diego's face darkened. He wanted the old man, but Hazel needed him more. He shuffled away from the detective without a word. They were both just guessing at this point. Like the bottle of water, they could each surely poke holes into any theory. For Diego, this was past the point of debate. The only thing he knew now was his gut feeling, and he knew Hazel was close.

Halfway up the steep hillside, he glanced back and saw Maxim venturing away from the tank, searching the low ground. That was good. As long as he kept his eyes open, Hazel had a chance.

But Diego kept thinking about the key chain. Maybe he'd been right about Annabelle the whole time. Maybe she was a self-centered brat who didn't care about the welfare of others. Maybe she
had
only come back for her possession.

He scoffed as he remembered something Kayda had asked: Did Hazel want to be found? Then he wondered if she was distracted by the lights and the children, dancing carelessly. Unthinkingly. Was there an object of hers that Diego should have brought to get her attention? Maybe all he needed was a music box or childhood keepsake.

The biker scaled a steep boulder and made it to the top of the crevasse. It looked higher from this vantage than it did from below. He knew it was no more than a couple of stories. The lip of the rock jutted out so it was nearly above the water. The canopy was still above his head and he could see out between the tree trunks. After some searching, he noticed Maxim securing the perimeter. Diego scoped further out but concluded that no one else was close. He checked the high ground behind him as well. It appeared less promising. Desolate and cold, he didn't see any signs of life besides the foliage.

A hollow pit rose from his stomach as he imagined what he would say to Julia. He didn't know if he could bear to tell her, after he thought he was so close. He couldn't handle seeing her reaction to the news of another unsuccessful day.

Diego de la Torre sank to his haunches. All he'd wanted was a chance to meet the little girl. To see if Julia and Hazel were a fit for his life, and he for theirs. He didn't know that he'd be a good father figure. He damn well knew he wasn't perfect. But there was a light in Julia that warmed him. He imagined nurturing that warmth. And he imagined being happy.

Now Diego questioned his motivations entirely. The little girl in the picture with a self-conscious smile—had he ever really known her at all? The Hazel he knew was just a figment of his imagination. A secondhand ghost conveyed through a forlorn mother.

An image of Julia's face crossed his mind. It was a memory he cherished. The only one he had of her smiling. After Hazel had been missing for mere minutes, he'd assured her that she would be found. That all would be well. Julia had believed him, and she had smiled—a woman, a mother, perfectly contented. In truth, Diego had done everything for that smile, the only honest and pure one he'd seen since this all started.

Even after the hard reality had set in that she might never see Hazel again, Julia had lost herself in forgetful moments of happiness. She never smiled again, no, but the strain in her face eased. Her eyes clung to hope. When the cold truth of the world was absent, Julia's daughter filled her with joy and she hummed a sweet, soothing melody.

Diego laughed but it came out as a sob. He choked it away and tried to hum. A lullaby escaped his lips, just as Julia had sung it. His eyes welled with tears, and he repeated the tune.

Somewhere below him, the melody echoed back.

Diego's eyes raced to the bottom of the glen. Standing on the edge of the shallow tank was a young girl. He'd never seen her before. Not in person. But he knew her.

"Hazel!" he called out.

Long black hair spun around as she faced the sky.

Diego didn't blink. He leapt off the edge of the rock and dove for the center of the tank.