Trail Of Terror Chapter 3

Trail Of Terror

Chapter 3 
Cody

I didn’t know what to think about my brother Ben. I tried not to think about him very much actually. I was pretty sure he didn’t like me. Sure he loved me as a brother, but he didn’t respect me. Not that I respected him very much either probably, so I couldn’t really blame him. Ben was a little over a year older than me and we were so different.

I was cool.

He was not. That was the difference.

I bounded to my room and got dressed in cut offs and tank top and went back to the front entrance where I pulled on my red high tops. I had grabbed my bass guitar from my room so I picked it up and headed out to George’s van. George was waiting in the driver’s seat.

Ready to go, he said cheerfully as I climbed inside after stowing my guitar in the back.

Yeah, thanks George, I said glancing at him and smiling. One thing me and my brothers did have in common was our respect for George Lamb. He had come to work for our parents only a few months ago, but he knew a lot of things—I suspect he had been a government operative or some kind of policeman, maybe RCMP. He wouldn’t say exactly who he was or why he had retired, but his knowledge of things—all kinds of things was impressive. He was a great asset to the corporation.

And he didn’t judge anyone. He was pretty cool—for an old dude.

How long will you be? He asked as we pulled out of the garage and headed to the main road.

We should be done by noon. Are you sure you don’t mind dropping me off? I could have gotten Ben to drop me off on his way to the library.

I have to get some supplies in town, he said as he glanced on the road ahead. There was a car off to the side of the road near the bridge that crossed over to the mainland.

It was Ben’s car.

George pulled the van over behind Ben’s vehicle. Why are we stopping? I asked and George looked at me.

After what happened to you boys last night, I don’t want to take any chances. Your brother might be in trouble.

I doubt it, I said as I got out of the passenger side. George got out and went over to the drivers side of the car. It was empty.

I shook my head. I don’t know where he would have gone. He just left the house and said he was going into town to see if he could visit Vik—his friend who’s in jail.

George nodded. It’s odd, he said finally, scanning the area.

The bridge to the mainland, a narrow metal structure was about 50 m ahead of us and looked deserted. In fact the whole area looked deserted—like it usually did. That was the whole idea. The island was supposed to look deserted to outsiders and curious people who happened to travel down this road.

Anyone coming along Maple Grove road might see the bridge but the simple “No Trespassing-Private Property” sign at the mainland side of the bridge was supposed to be enough of a deterrent. If we had put-up chain-link fences with all kinds of warning signs, everyone within miles would be curious and want to know what we were hiding.

We weren’t “hiding” anything, really, just doing secret government experiments that the general public didn’t need to know about. Nothing too serious.

We’d been on the island 3 months and this “non tight security” plan seemed to be working—so far. I remembered the weird lights and noises last night and got a little chill despite the warm autumn air.

I don’t see him, George said finally. I’m going to call your dad, then we can continue into town to your rehearsal.

I breathed a sigh of relief. The guys would be ticked at me if I was late—again. I usually was late anyway so they should be used to it by now, right?

George made the call then we got back in the van and headed across the bridge.

The trip to Maple Grove was short as the town was only 2 km down the mainland coast to the west. It was a small town, about 4,000 people, but it had a grocery store, one bank and a school that served as a public and high school. Maple Grove School. Yeah, real original name.

A block past the small downtown was the civic centre where my band rehearsed. We were called the Rock Bottoms because we played rock music and the “bottom” because we had started at the bottom—and it truth be told we were still pretty close to the bottom, but we were getting better.

George dropped me off and headed over to the hardware store a few blocks away. I could hear the band starting to play as I went inside the front entrance, past Millie who was the receptionist for the centre. She nodded and smiled at me as I walked past. A long hallway went out in front that led to the auditorium at the end.

‘Bout time you got here, Clayton, a voice called out as I walked through the auditorium entrance.

Leo Spatzik, lead guitarist for the band was moving up the main aisle of the auditorium towards me. He was dressed similarly to me in jeans with holes in the knees and a t-shirt with a rude saying on it. He had on his perpetual knit hat and sunglasses—dude thought he was already a freakin’ rock star.

I’m not late, I grunted as I moved past him to the stage.

Oh, yeah, Leo said with a snicker. You’re usually late—I just thought—.

Whatever, I muttered as I headed up the steps of the stage. The rest of the band was there already. Nic Hong was our keyboard player. He was originally from China and had only lived in Canada for a few years. He was tall and rail thin, with long dark hair. He had on fluorescent orange pants and white t-shirt. He was practicing a riff on the keyboard that I recognized from our song “Done With Her”. Hey, Nic, I called out and he nodded and smiled.

Our drummer, Damian Riley was practicing a complicated progression. He glanced up at me and nodded. When he was done he got up and came over to where I was standing. Hey, what’s up, dude! He said with a bright smile, giving me his fist to bump. Damian was a big guy with bushy reddish blond hair and a wispy beard.  He wore denim from head to toe, yeah even his shoes looked like denim.

I’m good. What about you? You get that hunk of junk motorcycle running yet?

No, not yet. Still need a few more parts. Need more money, first. Say, you hear about Vikram Nath? Cops arrested him last night, Damian said, eyes wide.

Yeah, I know. My brother’s going to visit him today. Crazy stuff.

Damian nodded.

Ok, ladies let’s get this rehearsal going, Leo called out from his spot on the stage. He strapped his electric guitar over his shoulder and I strapped my bass guitar on.

Damian started with the beat and soon we were into our first song.

Two hours later we were exhausted, but exhilarated. We sounded better every time we rehearsed. We’re ready for that party next Saturday, Leo said with a nod of his head.

When’s next rehearsal? I asked as we started to put our instruments away. I think we should practice once more before the gig.

You died and made you boss, Leo said with a smirk.

I’m not—

Hey, I’m joking, Leo said. What’s wrong with you, dude? You know I’m always ragging on you. It’s what I do, man.

Nothing, I muttered, closing up the bass guitar case.

Have a falling out with Natalie? Leo said, turning to me.

No, I said. It’s nothing. Just leave it.

OK, Leo said putting his hands up in mock surrender.

Any you guys want to go to the Bird Dog? Damian said, coming up to where I was standing. It’s almost lunch time.

Sure, Leo said. Maybe we can talk to Mr. Personality over here and get some answers. Like what his family is doing on Storm Island.

I glared at Leo. Sometimes he could be a real jerk. Sure, I’ll go, I said, still staring at Leo who turned away.

I will go too, Nic said.

Great. Let’s go.

The Bird Dog café was a small—well, café about a block from the civic centre. My older brother Josh’s girlfriend Felicity worked there. Her parents ran the café. She was on duty when we went to the counter to order.

What happened to you guys last night, she asked wide eyed when she saw me in line. She was a pretty girl with long curly reddish blond hair and green eyes. I’ve been trying to call Josh but he’s not picking up his cell. You guys were in a plane crash?

Sort of, I said. Josh was piloting and we came down in a storm, he overjudged the runway and we crashed into some underbrush. No big deal. Plane’s a little banged up, but we didn’t get hurt.

That was quite a storm, Nic said and the others nodded.

I’ll get Josh to call you, I said, then we proceeded to order. I got a burger and fries while the others got nachos.

Dude, you didn’t tell us about the plane crash, Leo said, once we were seated at a table in the back of the restaurant. No wonder you’re acting all weird today.

I’m not acting weird, I muttered. I’m ok, really. Look it wasn’t serious. I keep telling everyone.

Whatever you say, dude, Leo said, taking a cheese covered nacho off the top of his pile and popping it in his mouth.

Look, you guys have been living around here for a few years, right? I looked at each one in turn and they nodded. What can you tell me about Storm Island? Who owned it before we bought it—well we didn’t actually buy it, the Canadian government did. But someone must have owned it before that. Any ideas?

No, I do not know, sorry, Nic said taking a nacho off his plate and dipping it in salsa, then sour cream.

Leo? Your parents are lawyers?

In Vancouver, he said, staring at me. You know I live with Uncle Xavier. I don’t know about the island. Never been there. Looks creepy from the mainland.

What about you, Damian? Did you ever go on the island exploring?

Damian nodded. Yeah, when we were kids. In the summer, it was cool. There were some really cool trails through the island. Creepy is a good word.

Just then two police officers came into the restaurant. They glanced at our table then made their way back to us.

Uh-oh, you forget to pay the bill? Damian said, looking at Leo.

Are you Cody Clayton? A female officer asked me.

Yes, I said. I didn’t recognize her, but then I’d only been in the area a few months and didn’t know the police officers yet.

You need to come with us to the police station. We have a few questions to ask you.

Me? I said, glancing at the others. About what?

We just need to ask you some questions. Your brothers are being taken in for questioning as well. It has to do with Vikram Nath.