The Matchbox

Chapter 3

When I woke up for school the next morning, I turned on the radio. Only a few minutes later, the music was abruptly cut off in the middle of my favorite song.

"We interrupt this program to bring you an urgent message. The body of a middle aged white male was discovered in the woods last night. The victim has yet to be identified, but foul play is suspected. Citizens are warned to avoid entering the woods alone. There is no known connection to the recent power plant arson. Tune in to Channel 11 News tonight at six for more information...."

A chill ran down my spine and I nearly dropped my hairbrush. Had I unknowingly overheard a murder last night?

I didn't eat breakfast that morning. Something told me if I did, I wouldn't be able to keep it down.

Walking home from school was an exercise in paranoia. I wished I had called my mother to pick me up. I couldn't help but look over my shoulder every few minutes. Had the murderer seen me? Did he know where I lived?

I tried to tell myself I was overreacting, but I failed.

When I arrived home, my mother was waiting on the front porch, looking nervous. "Hi, honey. How was school?" she asked. I could see her struggling to conceal her anxiety.

"Fine," In said, shrugging. "What's up? I thought you had a dentist appointment."

"I wanted to make sure you got home safely. There was a... well, murder in the woods last night. A hiker discovered a body in the woods this morning. I just decided to be a little late for my appointment," Mom said.

I shivered. "I'm. . .  going to go inside and eat something," I said quickly.

Mom looked after me. "Honey, I am sure that conversation you heard had nothing to do with this."

"I know," I said, trying to be nonchalant. My acting was doubtlessly a complete fail.

I don't know what possessed me to go back to the woods. Tracy came over after dinner, and my parents were out for the night. She begged and pleaded with me to go into the woods.

"We could hunt for clues! Come on, Lea, you know you want to," she wheedled. "We won't go far, and I take karate."

Translation: she had had one karate lesson, and had basically learned how to bow.

"I don't think we should," I said.

"We'll bring Roxie and Fang," she said. Fang was her enormous German Shepard/Rottweiler/Great Dane mix. He was a bundle of pure muscle and teeth, but Beggin' Strips dog treats could turn him to mush.

"Half an hour," I said. "We'll go for half an hour and that's it."

For half an hour we walked. The rustling leaves and chirps of birds were deceptively peaceful. I tried to concentrate on the sunshine and wildlife, but my mind kept wandering to horrible, imagined scenes of blood and a faceless killer.

I fingered the pocket knife in my jeans. I knew it was stupid. No one who could kill a man would let me, a teenage girl, have the chance to use this. They would probably use it against me. The number one rule of knife fighting, I had once heard, was to know when to throw the knife in the sewer. Still, it made me feel better to go armed.

"Tracy, it's been twenty minutes. We have to turn around. It'll get dark," I said.

"But we haven't found a thing," Tracy groaned.

"And we never will," I told her.

Then Fang and Roxie started barking. Fang's bark was as terrifying as a dragon's roar, and Roxie's mixed with it, creating a bone-shaking rhythm.

"Um. . . maybe you were right," Tracy said, her usually cheerful voice shaking the tiniest bit.

"I told you so," I said, looking over my should and all around, trying to see what had the dogs so upset.

Then they began to whine and whimper, cowering behind us humans and yanking their leashes. Tracy and I exchanged glances, and then we ran.

Within five minutes, we smelled the smoke. In another five, we could see it. Black clouds drifted over the trees, scumbling the evening sunlight.

"What the heck? A forest fire?" Tracy cried.

I was breathing too hard to respond. We had been running for ten minutes, and even with my fitness training in gym class, I was hardly an athlete.

Tracy whipped out her phone and started dialing 9-1-1.

Breathing was becoming more difficult. I didn't know how Tracy found the wind to scream at the poor 911 correspondent. The smoke choked my lungs, and I knew I would have to slow down soon. I coughed.

The temperature was rising. Roxie and Fang were in a panic, yanking Tracy and me along by their leashes and nearly tearing our arms from their sockets.

I coughed again, and heard Tracy do the same. My eyes were watering, and my vision began to blur. A feeling of scorching, like a terrible sunburn, began to sting the back of my neck and ears. I didn't look back, because I didn't want to confirm my suspicion. The fire was close, and it wasn't moving slowly.

In all too few minutes, the light turned red and flickery, my head went light from too little oxygen, and I stumbled.

That was when I saw him. Smokey and unclear, someone was laughing. "This is only the beginning," he chuckled.

Stupid cryptic warnings.

(A/N If anybody is actually reading this, could you comment to let me know? Otherwise I won't bother updating much at all.)