Dart pulled up, along side of the cemetery gates. A black Sedan pulled up behind him, and Agent Holland stepped out. He followed the Deputy through the gated entrance of Hollow’s End Cemetery, and walked down a path, crisscrossing through headstones and monuments.
With the dried leaves crunching below their boots and shoes, they arrived at the base of a small hill. Dart called up to the wooden shack at its top:
“Bud! You up there?”
The door to the shack opened, and Bud Lockwood came out, lightly stumbling as he made his way down the hill. With his dirty work clothes and torn conductors hat, he greeted the authorities.
“Good afternoon, gentleman.” Bud nervously spoke. It was obvious he was upset.
“So, she’s back, huh?” Dart asked.
“She sure is. It’s the damnedest thing, I tell ya! As if this month hasn’t been crawling under my skin enough already, her corpse just shows back up in the empty grave.” Bud said, removing his hat. He looked around. “Where’s the Sheriff?”
“He’s on his way,” Dart said, seeing Carter’s personal car pull up next to the others. He hoped out and approached the group, still in uniform.
“What’s he doing here?” Holland whispered to Dart.
“I called him. He needs to be here. This is his case.” Dart said, defending his mentor.
“What is it, Bud?” Carter said, standing with his hands on his waist and chest puffed out.
“Sheriff, Kelly Rodgers’ body is back.” Bud said with a shaky voice.
“Show me.”
Carter, Dart and Holland followed Bud Lockwood through the cemetery and to the dug up grave.
“There.” Bud said, pointing to it.
Carter slowly approached it and peered in. A rotting corpse lay at the bottom of the grave, with shredded clothes and a foul stench rising from the brown, deteriorating skin. Flesh hung from her once attractive face, now revealing skull and bones.
“My God.” Carter muttered, covering his mouth and nose. Dart and Holland did the same after viewing the body themselves.
“Did you see the shoes?” Holland asked. Carter quickly looked back down at the corpses feet. There were shoes on them – women’s work shoes – covered in dried mud.
“Dart, you need to get those shoes, and that body, examined for prints, DNA, etc. Call it in. I should go before Hopkins finds out I was here. Let me know what you find, got it?” Carter instructed.
Dart nodded and Holland rolled his eyes.
“Holland, don’t you dare say a word to the Mayor.” Carter said.
Holland kept his mouth shut. Bud Lockwood leaned in, and looked at Carter’s uniform:
“Sheriff, where’s your badge? And gun?”
“I, uh, I’m on suspension, Bud. Don’t worry about it though.”
Carter left in a huff to his car.
“Suspension?” Bud looked at Dart, confused.
Dart didn’t respond. He pulled out his phone and called in the body. Holland stood by, and Bud looked over at Carter who was starting the engine to his car. Carter looked back towards the three men, embarrassed by the position he was in. He saw Bud Lockwood put his conductors hat back on and tip it in his direction.
Carter waved, and drove away.
October 29th
Libby Hatcher sat in her bedroom, in her parent’s one floor home, next door to her lifelong crush, Doug Roberts. She looked out her window, and could see the side of Doug’s house. On the second floor was Doug’s bedroom window. She looked up at it. The room was dark, just as it had been all night. Where is he? She thought.
She wanted them to be together so much, but his obsessive nature towards Charlotte Sheldon, the school hottie, was too strong. She was starting to think they’d never be together, especially after she embarrassed herself at his home.
She looked at her watch – it was almost 9:30. Jude should have been here by now.
She didn’t really have any strong feelings for Jude, but he happened to be the same type of person she was. Quiet, lonely, desperate. With him, she would have someone. With her, he’d be able to ‘come out of his shell’ for his senior year. Who wants to spend their senior year alone? It’s a time to let loose and get ready for college life.
She looked at the calendar above her desk, where a copy of ‘October’s Shattered Graves’ sat, opened to her highlighted lines. The month was flying by, and she couldn’t have been happier. Hopefully the terror would come to an end soon. She wanted to get back to school and get everything back to normal again. With a black pen, she crossed off the date on the calendar – October 29th - another day gone.
Libby opened her phone. There was still no text response from Jude. Giving up, she turned her light out and laid back in bed, pulling the sheets over herself.
Just as a tear began to roll down her cheek, she heard a squeaking noise. She froze. It happened again. It was coming from her bedroom window. She could feel goose bumps popping up all over her body.
With every bit of courage she had, Libby slowly sat up in bed and looked at the window. There was a dark smear on the window. Her breathing picked up. Was it mud? Was she next?
Libby crawled out of bed and tiptoed to the window. She looked outside into the night, and saw nothing beyond the dark smear. She flipped the light on next to her and stumbled backwards when she saw the smear was dark red – blood on the outside of the window.
“Mom! Dad!” She called out. She backed into the corner of her room when her parents busted in.
“What is it, Libby? What happened?” They screamed. Libby pointed towards the window, and her Dad rushed to it. He opened it and looked outside.
“Good Lord! Who is that?” Her father shouted, turning and running back out of the bedroom for a phone. Libby and her mother rushed for the window and looked out.
Jude Coffman lay in the grass, covered in blood.
October 30th – 10:20 AM
The Stewart Hollow Regional High School had been empty for the better part of two weeks. It wasn’t safe for the students to come back – not with a serial killer on the loose.
Thomas Murdock stood on the dimly lit stage in the auditorium, drinking a cup of coffee, and admiring the set pieces his students had created. A door backstage opened, and he heard the sound of high heels clicking across the floor. The curtain to the left of him was pulled back and Molly Bain appeared, surprised to see him.
“Jesus Christ, Thomas. What on Earth are you doing here?” She asked.
“Just getting one more look at these pieces of art.” He sipped he coffee.
“After what you pulled in my office, I should call the police on you. First you pretty much attack me, now you’re trespassing. You’re on thin ice, Thomas.”
“Don’t worry about it, Molly. I’m out of here anyway. I just wanted one more look at this stuff before I head to Las Vegas.”
“What’s in Las Vegas?”
“A new job. I’ll be a producer at the public theater. Ten grand more a year than I’m making here.” He sipped his coffee again.
“Oh.” Molly Bain said, standing there with her arms crossed. It was all she could say.
“You just said that I’m lucky you don’t call the police on me because of my being here and the ‘office incident’. Why didn’t you call the cops to begin with? I mean, I was way out of line.”
Molly thought for a moment, and then eased up. “Because I know you, Thomas. You’re very passionate about your work. If I called the police about your aggressive behavior, they would have thought you were involved in the murders.”
“How do you know I’m not?”
Molly hesitated, off-put by his eerie question, but trusted her gut. “Because we’ve worked together for years. I know you better than that. I didn’t want you involved in something that you’re incapable of.”
Thomas sighed, and took another sip of his coffee. “Thank you.”
“Good luck in Las Vegas. Keep in touch.”
“Will do.”
Molly turned back and left the same way she came in.
Outside, Thomas Murdock got in his car – the only other car in the parking lot aside from Molly Bain’s silver Buick – and started the engine. The ‘door ajar’ light popped on. He backed out of the parking spot while opening his door back up and slamming it shut, and pushed the car into drive, hit the gas, and immediately heard a flapping sound underneath him.
“What the hell?” He said, stopping the car. The ‘door ajar’ light was still on. He jumped out of the car and looked underneath. All four tires were slashed. “Dammit!”
Thomas stood up and looked his car over. He glanced at the rear and saw the trunk was opened slightly, bouncing up and down in the cold winds that were blowing through town.
He walked to the trunk and lifted it open, instantly being stabbed in the throat by a sharp blade. The knife was ripped back out, and blood poured out, splattering on the pavement below. Thomas grabbed his neck, and held it tightly with both hands, but the blood still gushed through his fingers, spitting everywhere. He managed to look down into the trunk at his attacker. His eyes widened in horror, baffled by what he saw. The knife shot right back up at him, sinking into this stomach.