Trail Of Terror Chapter 5

Trail Of Terror

Chapter 5 

Ben

Where are you taking me, Tyson? I asked, wiping sweat from my forehead. The trail ahead was thick with trees and bushes, with only a small dirt path that lead us further into the woods.

You’ll see, Clayton, he said with a smirk.

Why did this dude hate us so much? I asked as much.

Tyson chuckled. I don’t hate you, Clayton, he said. I don’t hate any of you guys. Hate is too strong a word. Let’s just say I don’t think your old man should be running the lab—that’s all. My father was first choice for this position. Did you know that? He asked, turning to face me.

No, I didn’t, I said.

No of course not, he muttered. My father is a great scientist—.

I know, Tyson, I said ruefully. I know your dad is good. That’s why he works here. My father would only hire the best and your dad is the best.

But not good enough to run this place, Tyson said, stopping and facing me.

No, I said and you know why, don’t you?

Why what? He grunted.

Your father is a good scientist but he’s not equipped to handle the government.

What is that supposed to mean? Tyson said, advancing on me.

I like your dad, he’s a cool guy, but come on, he can’t handle people like Landers. Landers would crush your dad. You know it would happen.

Tyson’s fist lashed out and hit me square on the nose.

Ahh! I blurted, clutching my nose and feeling a gush of blood. What did you do that for? I spurted.

You’re a jerk, Ben, he said, turning on his heels and heading deeper into the forest.

I moved to follow him and soon caught up with him. I grabbed his shoulder and wrenched him around to face me. You’ll pay for this, I said as I balled up my fist. I was about to hit him when a loud whiny screech filled the air. My arm dropped and I glanced around. What—was that?

Tyson just smiled. So, you guys don’t know everything that goes on around here. Good. It’s going to stay that way.

What do you mean? I asked. You know what that noise is?

Maybe, maybe not, he said with a smirk. He turned around again and started walking. I followed him as we headed towards a small hill off to the right. It was devoid of trees and the sunlight beat down on the spot.

What is this place, I said looking past Tyson to the bare spot in the woods.

Just an empty spot in the middle of the woods, he said simply. Why, what does it look like to you? A spot where aliens beam up their unsuspecting victims.

You’re a very strange guy, I muttered under my breath, but he apparently heard me as he gave me a funny look.

We followed the trail past the small rise and found where it plunged into the thick woods once again.

On we trudged for what seemed like hours but was likely only about 20 minutes—the island wasn’t that large. Soon the surroundings looked familiar. Over the birds chirping in the trees, I could hear the rush of water and as we rounded a bend in the trail, the hillside to our left showed a large swatch of mud.

This was where Josh crashed the plane last night.

The plane was now gone—George must have had it moved already—but the evidence was still there and would be there for a long time.

Where are you taking me? I asked. I stopped a moment later to survey the damage to the trees and bushes.

Come on, Ben, Tyson said. I need to show you something.

No, I’m going back, I said. I’ve had enough of this. I started to climb the muddy hill, just like I had done the night before. My shoes were caked in mud and the bottom of my jeans were wet and muddy. But I didn’t care. Tyson had lured me with the promise of showing me something “interesting” but I was getting tired of this. A cicada buzzed in a tree overhead as I reached the top of the hill. The hole in the underbrush caused by the plane crashing through was now suddenly darkened.

Two men stood in the middle of the opening. One was tall and had a thick beard and long dark brown hair. The other was shorter with blond hair. They didn’t look very friendly.

I stopped and watched the two men approach. Tyson came up from behind me. Who are you? I asked as the men stopped in front of me.

They’re friends of mine, Tyson said as he came to stand beside the two men.

Nice friends, I muttered. Is this what you wanted to show me?

Oh, a wise guy, the tall bearded guy said. Suddenly he lashed out and punched me in the gut. Oof! I grunted and keeled over, the wind knocked out of me.

Shane! Tyson cried out. Easy on this guy. This is Ben Clayton. His old man runs the lab here and works with my dad. We can’t hurt him or we’ll be in a lot of trouble.

No names, Shane admonished but Tyson just ignored him. Yeah, I know who this is. Thomas Clayton’s son. Tyson nodded.

Who are you guys? I said getting to my feet once I could breath again. My nose was hurting as well, blood crusting around my nose and lips.

Never mind us, the blond man grunted. He turned to Tyson. What are we going to do with this guy? You shouldn’t have brought him here. We were almost finished our operation. Another day or so. Now if this guy talks—.

He won’t, Tyson said with a sly grin. I’ll take care of that.

What are you talking about—what operation?  Is something going on here on the island that my father doesn’t know about?

Shane and the blond guy chuckled but Tyson looked—irritated.

You and your family shouldn’t have come to this island, he said finally. It was too soon after the—never mind.

What? I said. What are you talking about? My father was selected by the committee back in Ottawa to run this lab—here on Storm Island. What was going on here before?

Nothing, Tyson said loudly as if to shut me up. Nothing, he repeated more calmly. Not your concern, Ben.

Come on, Shane said. We have to clean this up. This jerk’s father can’t know about what’s going on here. His brothers are going to come looking for him. And I saw the cops earlier—

What? Tyson blurted.

They were here earlier but I don’t think it has anything to do with us, Shane went on.

Vik. I said. My friend Vik was arrested last night.

Vikram Nath? The blond guy remarked.

Yeah, I said. He’s a friend of mine from India—why am I telling you guys this. I would like to go back home. If my brothers are looking for me which I’m sure they are, then I need to go.

You aren’t going anywhere, Shane said, pulling a gun from the pocket of his jacket.

Really? I asked looking between Shane and Tyson. What have you gotten mixed up in, Tyson? Does your father know about any of this—about these guys?

No, he muttered. And it’s going to stay that way.

Little melodramatic? I said, glancing back at Shane. I tried to look cool but I was about to be sick to my stomach.

The dude had a freakin’ gun!

He put the gun back in his pocket. We don’t need this, he said finally, probably thinking of the ramifications of shooting me in the middle of the forest. Come on, let’s put him in the shed.

The blond guy grabbed my arm. For a small guy he was quite strong. He pulled me along the trail back down the hill towards the river. We splashed through the stream and found the trail on the other side. If my sense of direction was any good, we should be coming to the end of the island soon, the airstrip was behind us. Sure enough, about 5 minutes later I could see the water of the Storm Island Strait through the trees. The mainland was off in the distance. Off to the side of the trail was a small wooden hut, cleverly hidden in the trees. No one would have seen it unless they knew it was there. It looked like it had been there a long time.

The blond guy wrenched open the door and pushed me inside. I turned around to face the three guys. You’re just going to leave me here? I said, looking at Tyson who just had a smirk on his face.

Your dad’s not going to be too happy about this, nor is my father—when he finds out, and you know he will find out. My brothers will find me.

I don’t think so, Tyson snickered, looking at his two companions in turn. Your brothers don’t like you. They don’t care what happens to you.

You’re wrong! I blurted. You don’t know my brothers like I do. They’ll come looking for me when they see my abandoned car.

Tyson just shook his head and rolled his eyes in exasperation.

Shane smiled, showing stained teeth. Come on let’s get out of here.

Wait! Tyson said, advancing on me. He grabbed my jacket and pulled my cell phone out of my pocket.

Nuts! I thought. I was hoping these guys weren’t too bright and wouldn’t think of my cell phone. But Tyson was smarter than I thought.

He turned around and with a pitch worthy of major league baseball, threw my phone into the trees. Good luck finding it now, I thought.

Should we tie him up? Blondie muttered.

Yeah, Tyson said with a gleam in his eye. A large tool box was on the floor at the back of the small room. I hadn’t noticed it in the dimness of the small room. Tyson opened it and pulled out some nylon cord. Knew this stuff would come in handy, he gloated. Before I could see what was inside, he shut the lid. He proceeded to tie my hands up behind my back with the help of Blondie while Shane held my arms steady. His breath smelled of garlic. That reminded me—I was hungry.

There, Tyson muttered moving away from me. My arms were already starting to hurt.

You can’t just leave me here, I exclaimed. What if I get hungry—or have to go to the bathroom.

Tough, Blondie grunted. Shane and Tyson just snickered at my predicament.

Tyson, I said. You don’t want to do this.

Yeah—I do, he said with a smirk—his usual expression. With that, he slammed the door shut and I heard a padlock being put on the door. It was dark in the room, only a sliver of light coming from around the door frame.

I turned and surveyed the room. It was empty except for the tool box. If I could get into that I might be able to find something to cut the nylon cord. A few seconds later the padlock was removed again from the door and then it opened.

Change your mind? I asked hopefully as Tyson stood in the doorway.

No, Tyson said, coming into the room. He grabbed the tool box and picked it up. Forgot to take this he said with a smug look on his face.

With that he left the shed, closed the door and padlocked it again. How was I going to get out of this mess?