Page 42

Denise stopped her Chevrolet Trax at the fringe of Wild Pines Forest, on a slip of dirt near a thicket.

There were no other vehicles or people around as she turned off the engine.

Reaching into her bag, she took out her phone and her notebook, paging through her handwritten entries, maps with distances, sketches and various notations.

“This is where you entered, according to the case file.” She turned to Carrie in the passenger seat.

Carrie’s gaze into the forest was haunted, as if holding some terrible secret, sensing some horrible dread.

“Like I said at the library,” Denise continued, “if we walked through the scene, step-by-step, like a re-creation, it might stimulate your memory.”

Carrie said nothing.

“Are you still okay to do this, Carrie?”

Carrie stared blankly into the darkened woods, unable to move. Setting foot inside now with Denise would be her first time since the murders. As she dwelled on it, years of therapy with Dr. Bernay swept through her.

Carrie knew that to avoid the event was a defense mechanism that would leave her hostage to her fears.

Possibly forever.

But to confront it, here and now, with all of its frightening memories, she could conquer those fears, and, maybe, just maybe, arrive at the truth .

You might find you’re stronger than you thought. Dr. Bernay’s words echoed, and Carrie steeled herself.

I did not move my family back to Texas to surrender.

“Let’s go in,” she told Denise.

As they entered, Carrie followed Denise, thinking how the reporter had become Carrie’s version of Virgil from The Divine Comedy , guiding her through her very own Hell.

Moving deeper into the forest, the light dimmed under the canopy of trees. Carrie breathed in the pine, mingling with the earthy patchwork of evergreen shrub, letting go, trying to remember. They hadn’t gone far when Denise stopped at a large rock, consulted her notes, then pointed.

“They found partial shoe impressions here from a fourth person. The poor quality made analysis difficult, but they were larger and inconsistent with yours and the other girls’. Hyde had been following you, according to his confession and the case notes.”

Denise looked directly at Carrie. “Did you see anyone here, other than the girls?”

Carrie took stock of the area.

“I don’t remember.”

They moved on for some distance, then Denise checked her notes before stopping at a large rotting log.

“Abby’s sneaker was found here, indicating the three of you had likely been accosted and fled. Do you remember this point?”

Carrie shook her head.

They progressed for another few minutes. Branches swished, brushing against them, breezes whispering through the treetops as they came to where two tall trees had formed a V.

Denise stopped.

The air tightened with expectancy.

“This is where they found Abby.”

Denise looked at Carrie. “Do you remember what happened here, Carrie?”

Abby was murdered here.

The image she’d seen of Abby’s corpse on Denise’s laptop in the library was seared into Carrie’s mind.

Abby’s body spread on the ground, one foot shoeless, her jumbled clothes sopped with blood, her eyes nearly closed, frozen, dreamless.

Standing here in the spot where Abby died ignited remembrance in Carrie, illuminating a dark corner where a memory crouched before coming to life.

Abby and Erin wanted to talk to me.

That’s why we came to the woods.

“Carrie?” Denise prompted.

“It’s not clear.”

“But you just remembered something?”

Carrie nodded. “Yes, but it’s not clear.”

They moved on, birdsong sounding in the cooler air, with beads of sweat moistening Carrie’s brow. They hadn’t gone far when Denise stopped again.

“They found Erin here.”

The crime scene photo burned in Carrie’s mind.

Erin on her side. In a runner’s posture, the earth permeated with her blood, soaking her disordered clothes, her messed-up hair, her empty eyes staring like an accusation .

Nothing was there now, only undergrowth.

“Do you remember?”

Carrie spasmed at gunfire echoing from the past.

“Carrie?”

Returning to the present, she said, “I ran that way.”

Denise looked to where she was pointing.

As they moved forward, Carrie was pulled back, remembering the terror, her heart hammering, pulse thundering, branches whipping, slicing into her, running until she was falling.

They had come to the cliff’s edge.

Carrie stared down at the river rushing far below.

Battling to breathe…smashing her head…the hospital and her father…

Lightning flashed in her mind, launching a memory, rocketing from that day. Unable, perhaps not wanting to stop it, Carrie shook her head.

“I can’t be here.”

Turning, she walked back quickly, with Denise hurrying to keep up.

“Carrie, what is it?”

She didn’t answer.

Several long minutes later, the distance from the cliff had grown and the river’s rush had faded. They’d returned to the tranquil area of the forest. There was only the sweep of branches as Carrie continued back, until Denise stepped ahead of her.

“Carrie, please. You remember now, don’t you?”

Carrie drove her fingers into her hair.

“What is it?” Denise asked. “Is it Hyde? Do you remember seeing him? How it happened?”

She shook her head.

“What is it, Carrie?”

Carrie heaved a huge breath, staring at nothing, then everything in her past, as if some monster was waiting.

“Abby and Erin wanted to talk to me. They said that they needed to talk here. But I was afraid.”

“Of what? What did they want to talk to you about?”

Carrie held her head, unwilling to release the shard of truth that was piercing her.

“Was it about your confrontation in the cafeteria?”

She couldn’t tell Denise because she couldn’t comprehend what it meant. It was only a fragment.

Abby and Erin want to talk to me…but I can’t understand why… Why here? Why now?

“Carrie, it might help if you tell me—”

A branch cracked.

They both caught their breath.

Something, or some one was near, unseen in the forest.

“What was that?” Denise said.

Several seconds of silence passed before Carrie said, “I think we better leave.”