Rhett McLaughlin - The Lost Causes of Bleak Creek

Janine hadn’t known if Donna would be game to come to Alicia’s funeral, thinking it might be traumatic for her, but Donna had insisted. As they had stood in the back during the incredibly sad service, Janine had snuck glances at her cousin to make sure she was okay. Even though Donna had spent most of the time with that zombie look on her face—a protective instinct, Janine figured—a hint of determination flashed across her face when Rex began to rail against Wayne Whitewood. Janine’s resolve had strengthened too; she recognized allies when she saw them.

Because Rex was right. There seemed to be something ominous under Wayne Whitewood’s smiling, organ-playing exterior.

The interview Donna had done with Janine once they returned to GamGam’s after their dramatic highway encounter had only confirmed that fact.

“They tried to drown me,” Donna had said, eyes aimed squarely at the floor, clearly not enjoying having a camera pointed at her but enduring it for the sake of the greater good.

“Drown you?”

“Well. First they cut me,” Donna said. She held out her right hand to the camera, where a faint scar could still be seen across her palm.

“Are you sure Whitewood was involved?”

Donna had paused a long moment before nodding. “He was the one who cut me.”

“Oh my god,” Janine had said. “I’m so sorry, Donna.” She’d been tempted to turn off the camera, to hug her cousin, but Donna said it was okay and seemed determined to keep going. “Can you…can you tell me about the drowning?”

“They carried me into the spring and—”

“Wait, what spring?”

“Bleak Creek Spring. Next to the school.”

“Oh. Right. From the resort days. Okay.”

“They carried me in, and I was…”

“You were what?”

Donna shook her head back and forth at least a dozen times, and the distant look came back, and Janine had known that this time they were indeed done for the day.

“There,” Donna said now, pointing past the line of people waiting to offer condolences to Alicia’s parents and sister, to where Rex was in an intense-seeming conversation with two adults who had to be his parents.

“Perfect,” Janine said, but before she could take another step, a brittle hand landed on her arm.

“Still here, huh?” It was that awful woman Mary Hattaway, in a dark version of the many-buttoned outfit she’d been wearing the first time Janine met her. She spoke brightly but wasn’t smiling.

“Yup,” Janine said, looking Mary right in the eyes. “Still here.” She wasn’t sure if Mary herself had been the one to paint the profanity on GamGam’s Grand Marquis, but Janine was certain she’d been involved.

“That little architecture movie sure is taking a long time. And, Donna,” Mary said, “what a nice surprise to see you out and about.”

Donna grunted.

“Still keeping the dishes clean at Li’l Dino’s?”

“Go screw yourself,” Donna said under her breath, looking at the floor.

“Well, bless your heart,” Mary said. Janine guessed that meant Mary had heard Donna loud and clear. Leaning in toward Janine and lowering her voice, Mary added, “I think it might be a good idea for you to leave town, sweetie. They have lots of interesting ‘structures’ in other places.”

As Janine tried to think of a snarky response, she was distracted by Mary’s right hand, which she’d noticed was wrapped in a bandage, more or less in the same place where Donna’s scar was. “What happened to your hand?” she asked.

Mary’s face turned a deep shade of red. “Oh…I, um…I broke a glass,” she seethed. “It’s fine.” Realizing she’d lost her composure, she pivoted sharply and marched off.

Janine turned to Donna, who looked like she was receding into herself again. “I’m sorry, we don’t have to stay here. We can leave.”

“No,” Donna said, as she nodded over Janine’s shoulder at Rex, who had broken off from his parents and was heading for the front door.

“Rex,” Janine said more loudly than she’d intended.

“Huh?” he asked, walking over to them, blinking as if she’d just woken him up.

“It’s me, Janine. The filmmaker?”

“Oh. Yeah. Hey.”

“And this is my cousin Donna.”

Donna gave a small nod while staring at her shoes.

“I’m so sorry about Alicia,” Janine said. “You’re right, you know. What you said up there. About the school. You’re totally right.”

“Oh,” Rex said, both relieved and validated. “Well. My parents don’t think so. But…”

“Let’s go over here for a minute,” Janine said, leading them to a large fake potted plant they could comfortably speak behind without drawing too much attention. “I’ve read about the deaths at the school. So I know it doesn’t add up. In every single case, the body was too disfigured to have an open-casket funeral. Just like with Alicia.”

“Yes! Right?” Rex sounded shocked, as if he couldn’t believe anyone would actually agree with him.

“When Donna went there, they…Well, are you okay if I tell him?”

Donna nodded.

“They cut her hand and tried to drown her in the—”

“Spring!” Rex said.

“How do you know that?” Janine asked.

“Oh, man, that’s…because that’s what almost happened to our friend Ben. He…Well…” Rex looked around to make sure no one was listening, and got distracted by the sight of Leif walking past them with his mom. “Hey!” he whispered.

Leif’s head spun toward them, seeming for a moment as if he thought the plant itself was talking to him. When he saw that it was Rex, though, his expression hardened. “What do you want?” They were clearly in some kind of fight.

“Just…come here for a second. It’s the filmmaker lady. From Li’l Dino’s.”

Leif seemed to have a private battle with himself before sighing, telling his mom he’d only be a minute, and joining them.

“She thinks I’m right,” Rex said. “About the murders at Whitewood. I was just about to tell her and her cousin Donna what we saw at the spring.”

“Okay,” Leif said, unimpressed.

Rex shook his head in frustration, deciding to continue the story rather than letting Leif have a piece of his mind. That could wait. “So, we were at the spring the other night and we saw this…like, this ritual. Like, a cult ritual.”

The word cult caught Janine off-guard, even after hearing Donna’s story. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” Leif chimed in. “They were wearing light blue robes, and they—”

“Don,” Janine interrupted. “Were they wearing robes when they…?”

“No,” Donna said. “At least, I don’t think so.”

“Okay.” Janine hoped these kids weren’t adding fantastical details just for the hell of it. “So what happened at this ritual?”

“Whitewood cut some woman’s hand,” Leif said, getting more into it, “and then the water lit up this weird blue.”

“I remember that,” Donna said.

“The water…lit up?” Janine asked.

Donna nodded.

“Wow. All right.”

“Yeah, and then Whitewood walked into the water,” Rex said, “and stayed under there for, like, a long time. Not even sure how he did it. Probably some kind of breathing tubes or something.”

Janine’s skepticism was kicking into overdrive as the details grew more sensational, but watching Donna as she absorbed the boys’ story was enough to keep her disbelief suspended.

“I’ve been thinking about what to do next,” Rex said. “We should probably tell Sheriff Lawson, right? Because this is huge. He’s the one over there talking to Alicia’s parents. We could pull him aside and—”

“Can’t do that,” Janine said. “We need to be incredibly careful.” She saw the confusion on Rex’s and Leif’s faces, the inability to process the idea that being careful would mean not going to the police, but she didn’t want to explain the entire situation with Donna’s father to them. Not here, anyway. “I think the best thing for us to—”