The Laurel Township Triangle Part 2 - The Last Forest

[00:00:00] Speaker A: Lovers of horror, fans of mystery, welcome to JB's radio show. I'm MJ Beck, filling in for JB Cross while he's on the rack. I mean, racked out. Anyway, we've got a tale for you tonight, but first a word from our sponsor. Are you tired of all those mats in your hair? You know, the ones that the blood sticks in there right next to your muzzle, giving you that unkempt, unsightly appearance you hate? Well, fear no more, my furry friends. We have the answer. Zane's Miracle Brush. Its patent design slips right through those mats and breaks up the blood clots so you can separate those hairs with ease. Say goodbye to the pulling and aching you're used to when you use Zane's Miracle Brush. Pick up yours and the gray dome apothecary stay. And now our feature presentation, Part two, the Last Forest we rejoin our heroes in the abandoned cabin on the outskirts of the desolated Laurel Township. A hard knock at the door and Bill Toyer, retired detective, goes to answer. Bill opened the door to a familiar face beside a hooded figure. He glanced between the two, then stepped back so they could enter. The first was a thin woman in a long black duster. Her piercing blue eyes swept the room, taking it all in from beneath her wide, brimmed black hat. The second was a figure a few inches taller than her, enclosed with a black robe, complete with a hood that shadowed their face. Their presence seemed to suck what little light remained out of the room. The door clicked closed with an odd formality that seemed to echo in the close, dark space. Bill stepped to the side and gestured to the newcomers. Folks, this is Katherine Hewett, former FBI turned private dick, and her companion. They're here to help. Trixie sat back in her seat and crossed one leg over the other. And who is your companion, Katherine? The woman removed her wide brimmed hat and shook her long brown hair free before she answered. Call me Cat. Please. My companion prefers not to give their name. You wouldn't know them anyway. What is this, Billy? Frank asked. What's going on here? Frank just Jared began. Cat cut him off. I understand your trepidation, Deputy. I assure you their name isn't important. Frank opened his mouth to retort, but she continued before he could. All that matters is what they can do for you. And what is it that they can do for us? Trixie asked. Her eyes were fixed on the hooded figure. Cat glanced at Bill. He cleared his throat. Well, they. They think they can take away the monsters plaguing the Triangle. Silence descended for a moment. Frank was the first to react. He scoffed and popped up out of his chair. What the. Goddammit, Billy, is this some sort of joke? Monsters? Really? Come on, Frank, you know what he's talking about. Jared said quietly. I know what? Goddammit, I don't know, Jared. Frank waved his hands and walked a frantic circle, looking between everyone present. What? We all see some spooky stuff and you call in a A what? An exorcist? Cat and Bill exchanged a glance. Trixie cleared her throat. Sit down, Frank. What? You believe this shit? Trixie just stared at him. Laurel Township is dead, Frank, the Bill said quietly. If we're gonna bring it back, this is the only way. He spun to the old detective. Are you fucking kidding me? The economy tanked, Billy. That's what killed the town, not fucking monsters. Bill started to reply, but it was Trixie that retorted, yes Frank, I believe them. He frowned and looked at her. She was staring at the robed figure. Sit down. I'll tell you why. Frank swallowed and sat back in his seat slowly. Before I do, I want to know how you're going to help, she said, still staring at the figure. It didn't reply, save to reach into its robe with a black gloved hand and draw out a leather journal and quill ink pen. Cat spoke for the figure. Tell your tale and you'll see. Trixie glanced at her, then at Frank. Then she stared down at the table. I was fresh off probation, finally working the road by myself, an excitable young rookie. Unit 92, what's your 20? Dispatch called over the radio. I was barreling down the road at about 45 and I slowed as I lifted the microphone to my lips. I'm on Highway 20 by Beggar's Hollow, cutting north to check the radio tower alarm. 10:40, we have a 10:51 outside the school in Dixie. I scoffed and shook my head. That's on the south side. Dispatch, can unit 73 pick it up? 104 unit 92. I clicked the hand mic back on its cradle. Inside Jimmy was on duty and for whatever reason he always radioed for me first. I'll never understand why. My best guess is because he was a little sweet on me. I think he just wanted to hear my voice. Like most late teen boys, he was constantly making decisions with his dick. Regardless, I wasn't about to drive all the way to the south side of Laurel Township for some drunk. Especially not when it was already past 8 and my ship ended at 9:30. I had just enough time to check out the alarm at the radio tower probably false as usual, and drive back to the station without having to do overtime. It was late in the season, so the sun was already long gone. I slowed the truck further as the road narrowed to just two lanes and began to meander along the hillsides. Beggar's Hollow was a weird place. It sported one of those rare stretches of woods you find out here. The eggheads called it a gallery forest. I know because I dated one and that's all the nerd would talk about. But we always called it the Last Forest. We were just poetic like that, I guess. It was the only stretch of wood for miles, and it ran along a small creek as it rambled down the side of One Mile Hill. The whole lot was fed by one of the mountain springs that trickled down. They say it used to be a lot bigger, but it got smaller when they diverted a lot of the creek water for irrigation. Nowadays the whole thing didn't go further than three miles, but even so, it was dense and strange. People went missing in there all the time. I always chalked it up to people going on the lam or actually getting lost in the mountains when we thought they were in the woods. I guess if I'd given those stories more weight, I'd have taken the alarm more seriously. One of the many lessons learned. The radio tower stood at the center of the woods, about halfway up the hill. I guess the folks that built the thing didn't want to go any higher than they had to. You had to turn off the highway and onto a dirt trail to get out there, and half the time the trail was washed out by steep slope and creek runoff, especially late in the season when there was rainfall in the hills. I could only hope I was lucky and wouldn't have to walk up the trail to the tower. That slope really was steep. The drive got more twisty and the forest finally came into view as I rounded Half Mile Hill. That's One Mile Hill's little brother to the east along the same range. I couldn't see much in the dark, but I could see the radio tower halfway up the hill and still higher than anything else except One Mile Hill's peak. The tower was lit up by a beacon by its lights and stuck out like a zit on a prom queen's forehead. I glanced up the sky above the hill and couldn't see stars. That was a bad sign. The moon was new, so the desert stars were on full display across most of the sky. But above One Mile Hill, they were hidden by dark Clouds that blended with a black backdrop of night. My chances of driving all the way up to the Tower grew slimmer by the minute, but I pressed on anyway. It was another 20 minutes before I found myself driving up and around One Mile Hill. The slope was much steeper and the road started to switch back pattern as it climbed to the east side. The road was wet and the dirt was dark and muddy along the shoulders. Another bad sign came to greet me as I made my way toward the hill. Then the forest began and the darkness seemed to close in tight around me. It's weird how vegetation seemed to suck in all the light sometimes. Maybe it's just the dark greens and browns, or maybe it's because only a few moments before I was driving through the outskirts of the low desert with wide open spaces around me and stars above me. Suddenly all I could see were trees and leaves and the dark road ahead. I was in a tunnel of foliage, and I admit it was a little unnerving. I've been up on the Hollow many times. I grew up around here, you know. But I'd never gone up there after dark by myself. We did vehicular patrols every now and then when I was a probie, and occasionally we'd respond to a false alarm at the Tower, but never at night and never alone. The fact that I'm a 5 foot 2 inch woman who weighs a whopping 130 doesn't escape me either. As far as most would be concerned, I was easy pickings, especially if alone in the dark. That's when I came around a sweeping corner and found an abandoned Corolla. My heart skipped a little. I pulled up behind the car and hit it with my spotlight. It looked empty. The passenger side was open. It was up on a jack on the back left of the wheel, and the wheel was off. The trunk looked like it was only mostly closed and not latched. I flicked up my red and blue lights and scanned around. Sometimes people get nervous when they hear another car coming and they go for the COVID I hoped the police lights would tell them I was there to help and draw them back out. But no one came. I waited a few minutes, my hand lingering on the shotgun in its cradle, and when no one came from the woods or emerged from the car, I got out of my truck. I scanned every direction with my flashlight, but it barely penetrated the dense brush of the tree line. I turned toward the car and watched it for another moment. If you've never found something out of place in the middle of nowhere on a very dark and Claustrophobic night, then you've never experienced the special type of ominous feeling I felt in that moment. Who stops putting on a tire mid task? Who gets out of the passenger door and not the driver's side? None of it seemed to make sense. I scanned around one more time and when I saw nothing, I took a walk up to the car. It was a little worse for wear, but appeared drivable, save for the missing tire. It was new enough to be a push button start, and the key fob sat in the cup holder next to the big soda from McDonald's. The remnants of a Happy Meal were in the floorboard of the passenger side and I chewed the inside of my lip. Why did there always have to be a kid involved? That made it ten times worse somehow. I looked in the back seat, but it was empty, save for a little bit of trash. McDonald's bag presumably full of food trash. I glanced under the car and found the tire iron and all of the lug nuts. I took a quick look at the tire on the ground and discovered it was a spare. A quick look in the trunk and I found the blown tire. It looked like several nails had done damage. I wonder how they managed to make it all the way out here with such a damaged tire. Someone called out from my right. I spun, pointed my flashlight, but the dense brush blocked my view. I waited, holding my breath, and the voice came again. It was the voice of a child calling for help. Maybe. It was hard to tell. It sounded really far away. I scanned the tree line again, taking a few steps closer. That's when I noticed a spot in the brush where someone had trampled their way into the forest. I cursed quietly and backed up to the car, keying the mic on the shoulder. Radio dispatch. Unit 92, go for dispatch. I've got an abandoned vehicle out on Highway 20 with possible missing persons, including one child out in the forest. Out in Last Forest. One Mile Hill. Affirmative, 10 4. Unit 92. Notifying search and Rescue. Maintain position until backup arrives. That was going to take forever, but I didn't want to go traipsing into the dense woods and get lost myself. Lost in thought, I glanced down the road and realized I could see the Tower Trail only a little further up ahead. I keyed the microphone again. Negative, dispatch. I'll leave my truck parked with lights on to mark vehicle position. I'm going to walk up the Tower Trail and try to call for missing persons toward me. 10 4, unit 92. Be careful out there, 10 4. I went back to my truck and Reached inside for the shotgun. Then I realized I wouldn't be able to point it and the flashlight at the same time. I chewed my lip as I considered, then decided it was best left in his cradle. I closed the truck and locked it so nobody could steal it. Then I set off. The walk to the hill wasn't even as far as it initially appeared. Before I knew it, I was trapping through the mud up on a steady upslope. It was slow going, and I kept hearing them call for me from within the dense brush. Each time I would pause and call back, but they never seemed to get any closer. I kept at it anyway, hoping they were hearing me and would eventually turn my direction. Twice I stopped and was tempted to step into the treeline, But I couldn't see past the dense brush. And I knew at the moment I was in there I wasn't coming out. Okay, it's at this moment that I have to admit something. My adrenaline was pumping and my working brain was task focused on finding my missing persons, especially the kid. But to be perfectly honest, there was another feeling at play. In the back of my mind, I had this strange feeling that it wasn't someone from the car calling back at me. For one thing, it wasn't getting any closer. For another, the call wasn't ever intelligible. I had no idea what they were yelling at me. I'm fluent in Spanish and English, but I couldn't tell which they were speaking. I mean, it's not unheard of to have other immigrants in this part of Arizona, but it's pretty rare. It just didn't seem to make sense. You can be lost in the woods, that happens. And it's pretty easy to follow a sound. So after the calling hadn't gotten closer, when I could see the tower above the treetops about a mile down the trail, I began to wonder if it wasn't an animal I was hearing. I stopped and scanned up and down the tree line. No sign of anyone moving in or out of the brush here. No, no sign of. A scream pierced the night. It was far away, like the calling had begun. I froze to the spot, my flashlight illuminating a small stretch of dense tree line in my hand on the butt of my pistol. The scream came again, then abruptly cut off. Had it been human or animal? It was hard to tell a lot of the time, especially at night. Foxes screamed like banshees and birds could sound like babies crying when the world was dark. I swallowed, still frozen to the trail, afraid to move. No matter what had made the sound, there was Only one reason a scream like that was cut off abruptly. Whatever it was had met a predator. Then it had met its end. That scream was one of terror, I was sure of it. Something had seen a predator coming at it, tried to run, and died screaming. I swallowed again, suddenly feeling eyes on me. Was it actually being watched? Or was it just my imagination filling in presumed blanks? [00:14:39] Speaker B: Hoop. [00:14:41] Speaker A: I spun, drawing my pistol and pointing it and the flashlight at the sound that had come behind me. All I could see was impenetrable treeline. [00:14:48] Speaker B: Hoop. [00:14:50] Speaker A: I gritted my teeth to make my hands stay still as my insides dissolved into a quivering mass. Whatever was making that sound, it was trying to imitate speech. [00:14:59] Speaker B: Hoop. [00:15:02] Speaker A: It was trying to imitate someone calling for help. [00:15:04] Speaker B: Hoop. [00:15:06] Speaker A: Then something snickered. The quiet laugh broke me. I turned on a heel and bolted up the trail as hard as I could. I heard the sounds of something, maybe several somethings, running inside the dense brush of tree line alongside me. I pressed my legs harder than I ever have, my chest heaving and my eyes streaming, and I hit the gate of the fence surrounding the tower. I stutter, stepped to a stop and turned back, slamming the gate closed and turning the latch. The chain and lock were missing. The maintenance guy had a habit of forgetting to relock the place, but at least it gave me a barrier. I stood inside the fence, pointing my light and gun back down the hill, alternating from one side to the other and watching the tree line. [00:15:42] Speaker B: Hooooop. [00:15:43] Speaker A: The call was louder than ever. I backed up slowly as whatever was out there snickered again. [00:15:49] Speaker B: Hooooop. [00:15:52] Speaker A: Whatever it was practically screamed now. I felt the building behind me and I spun, jerked the door open and stumbled inside. I threw the deadbolt and locked the handle and then the chain. I realized the lights of the single room maintenance room were on. Then I turned towards the interior and fell back against the wall, pointing my gun. It took a second or two before I realized it was only a child sitting in the chair, cringing away from me as I pointed my gun at him. I pulled back, still panting and unable to speak. The kid stopped cringing back and looked at me with wide eyes set into his dark face. His tin trembled as he swallowed. Are you. Are you police? I managed a nod. Did you see my dad? I swallowed, thinking back to the piercing scream in the woods. I shook my head. The boy looked down at his feet. He wore jean shorts and a tank top with sneakers. He couldn't have been maybe older than 10. He started to cry, his thin shoulders bobbing up and down. He tried to fix the tire, but they called for help. He tried to help them, but I think they were lying. They aren't nice. They're bad. I swallowed and got a hold of myself. I holstered my gun and put my flashlight away. I knelt beside the boy. Did he go into the woods? He nodded and looked up at me. Can you find him? They're going to get him lost. That's what they do. They like to make people lost. I nodded slowly. I had a feeling that they were interested in doing more than making people lost. As soon as we get out of here, we'll find him. I have backup on the way. He nodded and looked down at his sneakers, crying again. Are you hurt? Can you walk? He nodded. I stayed on the trail even though they were calling for me. I don't think they liked to leave the trees. I swallowed and hoped the kid was right. I glanced back at the door. It was metal, but the frame looked rusted and flimsy. If something decided to attack, it wouldn't take much to get through there. I knew our best chance was to get back to my truck, which could be locked and had both my radio and my shotgun in it. With the thought of the radio, I keyed my shoulder microphone but got nothing. Maybe if I climbed to the top of the tower I'd be able to call out. But then what? Tell them that there were creepy things in the woods? Not even Jimmy would let me live that down. I looked back at the boy. What's your name? Dante. Okay, Dante, we're gonna get out of here. We're gonna get back to my truck and we're gonna wait for help to come get us. He nodded once I rose and took him by the hand, leading him to the door. You stay right beside me. I can't hold your hand, but I want you to grab the fold in my pocket and hold on tight. Can you do that? He nodded. Good. We're just gonna go right down the trail, Dante. We can do it. Stay together now and ignore anything you hear. Okay, here we go. I opened the door and drew my pistol. As we stepped out. I scanned back and forth, but there was nothing. We made it through the gate and onto the trail before we heard the first call. [00:18:45] Speaker B: Hooooop. [00:18:47] Speaker A: Snickers. We ignored and walked a little faster. [00:18:51] Speaker B: Hooooop. [00:18:53] Speaker A: I scanned back and forth, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever it was making the noise. I'd never heard of a predator that made a suck a noise and was big enough to take a human, too. [00:19:02] Speaker B: Phew. [00:19:03] Speaker A: An especially close one. I Jerked and scanned right, catching the bear's movement as a pale face moved back behind a tree. The face had been humanoid and bare, but it was surrounded by what I thought was weirdly patterned fur. It almost looked like tree bark. We walked faster still and I could tell Dante struggled to keep up. Any faster and I'd have to pick him up. But after seeing that face, I wasn't about to slow down. My heart was pounding in my chest and my breaths were coming in ragged, half sobs. I fought hard to make my gun hand steady, but insisted on trembling. A dozen feet ahead, I saw what I thought was a short tree on our side of the thick wall of brush. It stood right next to the road, and I realized I didn't remember seeing it as I ran toward the tower. Of course, I was so out of my mind with fear. Maybe I just missed it. [00:19:48] Speaker B: Huuuuup. [00:19:50] Speaker A: The sound came from the new tree. I jerked to a stop and aimed at the tree, firing a single shot into its side. To my surprise, the whole tree jerked. That's when I realized it was an optical illusion. Or at least sort of one. What I was seeing was a humanoid figure, skinnier than me, but taller. Covered in something that resembled bark and blended in so perfectly with its background, I couldn't tell what was creature and what was tree behind the creature. The effect was that it looked as tall as the trees behind, but in reality it was no taller than I was. Maybe a little shorter. Then its head began to rotate on its neck. It turned like an owl all the way around to reveal a pale, angry face with giant round eyes that were all pupil and a mouth that split open and a yawning chasm with several rows of teeth. Dante began to scream. Or maybe it was me, I don't know. [00:20:41] Speaker B: Ew. [00:20:43] Speaker A: It screamed back. I fired until I heard clicks and the thing jerked with each shot, finally falling to the ground and rolling away into the grass. The woods around us erupted into ear piercing cries of hoop. I holstered my gun and scooped up Dante, running for all I was worth. I could hear them following along in the treeline, their cries echoing in the night and threatened to burst my eardrums. Sometimes I still wake up at the night, hearing those sounds. My heart beating, the sheets soaked in sweat. Sometimes I dream that I'm still there on that trail, running with everything I have. Dante in my arms, screaming and crying as they chase us. I don't know when they stopped chasing us. I know it was before I reached the end of the trail. Maybe they have specific territory they hunt out of. Maybe it was the light of the vehicle up ahead. My red and blue lights were still shining bright as we burst out onto the road. All I know for sure is that I ran so hard I was seeing spots. When I finally made it, I collapsed onto the road and puked as I struggled to crawl towards the truck. I hadn't realized they weren't chasing us anymore. Dante hadn't either. He had grabbed me by the arm, dragging me towards the truck. I somehow managed to find my feet, then the keys, and I locked us both inside safely. I started the truck, thinking we should just drive away, but that's when I realized the creature, whatever the hell it was, hadn't followed us back onto the road. I descended into racking sobs, holding Dante into my lap and rocking back and forth. That's how Search and Rescue found us. They never found his dad, and I suspect I know why. I don't think those creatures waste anything. When the last forest takes someone, it takes the whole thing, bones and all. I never told anyone that story, trixie said after letting the silence settle for a moment in the wake of her tale. She glanced at the hooded figure who was scribbling Fast and Furious in the book. When they finished, the page of the book flashed with an eerie purple light and something inside Trixie changed. She grasped her chest and frowned. You okay? Jarrod asked, frowning at her with concern. She swallowed and considered the question. Then she nodded. Yeah, I think so. What happened to the boy? Frank asked quietly. He went to live with his mom in Tucson. Trixie looked down and picked out her fingernails. I check in on him every now and then. He's doing good. Frank nodded slowly. You know, it could have been someone in a suit, a disguise. Don't give me that shit, Frank, trixie snapped. It was real. I shot the thing. You know what they found? Animal blood they couldn't identify. Said some hunter must have been out there poaching or something. They all thought I was crazy. You sound crazy, frank said. He scoffed and looked away. I've seen my fair share of this crazy stuff too, but it can all be explained. Not all of it, jared said. He took a swallow of beer and sat back in his seat. Guess it's my turn. Join us next time for the exciting continuation of episode three, the Ghost in the Mirror. Catch up with us anytime over X, Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok. We'd love to hear from you. Until then, remember, don't be too loud at night. Always lock your doors and never stare at the moon. JB's radio show is produced and copyrighted by the Koteri of North America. All rights reserved.