October 3rd – Dawn
The alarm clock switched on at 6:30 AM, and Creedence Clearwater Revival rustled Carter out of a deep sleep. He reached for it and shut it off, then rolled over and looked his girlfriend, Amber Gibson, in the eyes. She smiled at him, and pushed her long brown hair away from her face.
“Good morning,” she said, her voice cracking from a long night of sleep.
“Good morning.” Carter pecked her on the cheek. He climbed out of bed and grabbed his folded tan uniform from the chair against the wall.
Amber sat up, keeping her body under the warm covers. “Do you have time for breakfast?”
“I don’t think so. I want to try and clear up this murder as quick as possible. I really don’t want a repeat of last year.”
Amber smiled and nodded, understanding, but feeling slightly distanced. Carter grabbed the bath towel hanging from the doorknob and looked back at her. “We’ll get dinner tonight.”
Amber’s smile returned. “Roasters?”
“Roasters.” Carter smiled and blew her a kiss before walking into the bathroom.
Amber grabbed the television remote and turned on the flat screen. The news was on, and Brent Tiles was dressed in a new spiffy suit and stood out in front of the Sheriff’s Department:
“We’re here live this morning in front of the Stewart Hollow Sheriff’s Department, where we’re trying to get confirmation that there has been another murder. That would make two murders in three days, making people very uncomfortable due to its’ similarities to last year’s Harvest Slasher attack on our town.”
The camera panned from Brent’s top half, over to the Sheriff Department’s entrance. Brent continued to speak off camera. “We understand that Sheriff Carter may not be at the station just yet, but we assume he may only be minutes from arriving.”
Amber stared at the television, shocked. “Ben!” she called out, but the shower overpowered her voice.
Brent Tiles continued: “Stewart Hollow is already feeling the affects from the killing spree last year when shop owner John Blankenship and Hollow Gazette reporter, Kelly Rodgers, murdered several people, including our town’s Deputy Sheriff. Tourists have begun to flock to our town hoping to catch a glimpse of the local legend – The Harvest Slasher – in action.”
Amber called out again, louder. “Ben!”
8:05 AM
Sheriff Carter held a news conference almost immediately after arriving at the station. He stood before a small crowd of reporters and concerned citizens.
“I would like to make one thing clear this morning,” Carter began, as Deputy Dart stood by his side. “We do not, I repeat, do not have a confirmed second murder. As far as we’re concerned, this is just a rumor that has been blown out of proportion. We are currently dealing with the death of Noah Swan only.”
Carter looked out in the crowd and noticed quite a few people he didn’t recognize; the tourists. “And to all of you that have come to our town, searching for the unrest that we had last year, I would like to say that there is zero connection between the crimes last October, and the murder of Noah Swan. The Harvest Slasher was John Blankenship, who is currently locked away in a maximum security prison up north, and Kelly Rodgers, who was fatally wounded last year.”
“Sheriff!” Someone in the crowd called out. “What about Kelly Rodgers’ grave! There’s a rumor going around that her body is missing from the graveyard! Has she returned?”
Carter was infuriated. He didn’t have time for ghost stories. He turned around and walked back into the station, with Dart following. The crowd groaned, displeased.
10:00 AM
The Stewart Hollow Regional High School was for the most part quiet. They were mourning the loss of one of their beloved teachers, Mr. Noah Swan. Rumors had been circulating in the day’s prior, and the absence of Mr. Swan at the school only fueled those rumors, but Principal Molly Bain had made the official announcement to the students at an organized assembly.
Her words were “Our very own Mr. Swan unexpectedly died on October 1st.” She kept the gory details to herself, in hopes of not upsetting the student body, but they already knew.
Doug Roberts walked down the hallway and stopped at his locker where he began to put some books in and take others out. Through the crowd of people, a girl – a little on the chubby side – waddled up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Hey,” she said softly.
Doug turned around to see Libby Hatcher. He smiled. “Hey, Libby. What’s up?”
“Not much,” Libby said. She was shy and not the most attractive girl in the world – she knew that, but didn’t let it bother her. She was the kind of girl who liked Dungeons and Dragons and hung out at coffee shops after school, but brushed it all aside every time someone would make fun of her for it. She was proud to be her own person.
Libby continued: “Do you know if the play has been cancelled because of Mr. Swan’s death?”
Doug shook his head. “Not that I know of. I hope not.” He instantly realized his words came out wrong. “I mean, not it a bad way. It’s a shame that Mr. Swan died, but I think this play is going to be great.”
Doug’s cocky attitude towards his own piece of art didn’t turn Libby off. She’d had a crush on Doug since she moved next door to him when they were little. Doug never seemed to catch on to Libby’s advances or flirting, but that didn’t bother her. She was going to keep trying anyway.
“So, are you going to be at rehearsal after school?” Libby asked, her smile never once leaving her face.
“Yeah, I’ll be there. I want to hear all the words out loud from the actors,” Doug said.
“I loved the script by the way.”
“Thanks,” Doug said, smiling back at her. He slammed his locker door shut. “Well, I have to get to class. See you later.”
“Bye!” Libby waved as she watched Doug disappear into the mass of students.
The school day finally ended and the final bell released the students from class. In less than thirty minutes, the stage crew, dressed all in black, was already cutting wood and designing scenery for the set, and all of the actors were gathered around, sitting in a large circle on the stage, reading their lines out loud.
Doug stood behind them all, reading along with them on his ‘Directors’ copy. His eyes seemed to stray quiet a few times from the pages and focus on Charlotte Sheldon. She was so beautiful and she read her part perfectly. Doug caught himself smiling at her, but pulled it back quickly before anyone would see.
Kevin read his part aggressively, as he should have. He was reading the role of Dev Liles, the serial killer Doug had created in his tribute.
Libby Hatcher read her part well too, except that she seemed too happy and upbeat when reading her lines. It should have been darker and more depressing, but hat would come after a few more cast readings.
Jude Coffman, a junior, was reading the role of ‘Steve’. Jude was the kind of kid who didn’t really get involved in much. He always came into school, did his work and went home. As far as Doug knew, he was a straight A student. Jude said he wanted to try to ‘come out of his shell’ before he started his senior year the next fall. He said that was the only way he would be able to enjoy it.
Levi Cole sat Indian-style next too Charlotte. He was a jock – the captain of the lacrosse team – and Doug didn’t think he belonged in the play. Doug knew why he was really here. Not in hopes of becoming an actor or pursuing theater in college, but for Charlotte. His brash attitude and the way he constantly flipped his blonde ‘surfer’ hair back over his ears just ticked Doug off in every way imaginable. Levi kept reading his lines wrong on purpose or giving them a strange accent – anything to pry a laugh out of Charlotte.
Jasper Finch was reading his part perfectly and with emotion. Jasper was a close friend of Charlotte’s, and Samantha Weber – who was never too far away. She was sitting out in one of the auditorium’s chairs texting with God knows whom. Jasper didn’t have too many friends, but the ones he did have were girls. A lot of students would yell gay slurs at him, but he wasn’t even gay. He grew up in a house with five sisters and a mother. He just felt more comfortable around them.
A rustling sound behind Doug caught his attention. He turned around and saw Mr. Murdock shuffling out from behind the curtain. The cast continued to read their lines and he waved Doug over.
“What’s is it, Mr. Murdock?” Doug asked.
“I just wanted to give you fair warning. The school board is talking about pulling their funding on the production,” Murdock said.
“What? Why?” Doug asked.
“Because of what happened to Mr. Swan.”
Doug’s eyes widened. “But…”
“Don’t worry. I’m going to meet with them tomorrow and see if there is something we can work out. This play was created as a tribute, and it will remain as one, even if we have to include Mr. Swan as one of the people we’re honoring.”
Doug shook his head, agreeing. “Good idea. I would hate to see this play fall apart.”
“Me too.” Mr. Murdock looked out to the stage floor and saw the cast reading their lines. “How’s the read going?”
“Great, so far. A couple of them need work and Levi needs to vanish off the face of the Earth, but it’ll all work out,” Doug said, looking back at Levi who was now making funny faces at a reciprocating Charlotte.
Mr. Murdock laughed. “Yeah, he didn’t really strike me as ‘drama club’ material from the start. Keep up the good work.”
“Thanks,” Doug said as Mr. Murdock left. He returned to the circle, and over the buzz sawing and hammering of nails by the stage crew, he listened to his cast read out the rest of ‘October’s Shattered Graves’.