Chapter Text
“We’ll figure it out, just, everyone please keep your disguises on until he’s gone. Be extra careful.”
Barclay was addressing all of the residents over an “emergency dinner” – minus Mama and Aubrey. Even with their usual two seats empty, the rest were taking up most of the dining area. Everyone kept checking the front windows for signs of the “pain in the ass” (or “PITA” as Jake insisted he be called). It was 5:03, the agent should be returning any minute now.
“It shouldn’t be too bad. A few days and he’ll pack up. But thanks for your culinary penance anyway, Barclay.”
“Felt extra bad givin’ you a neighbor, Moira. But fingers crossed you’re right and he leaves soon.”
“And what if he doesn’t buy that it’s all a tourist trap hoax?”
“Well, Elliott, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Keep the plan simple until then.”
“I could always start haunting his room.”
“Moira!” He didn’t have to look back at her to know her face would be expressionless save for one arched eyebrow. It was her special brand of humor – deadpan sarcasm and wry remarks. Still, the sound of laugher warmed his heart, even as the rest of them dreamt up ways to scare the agent out of the lodge. He knew that he could trust they wouldn’t try anything so preposterous. Let them have their fun.
They made it through the rest of dinner without the agent returning. By 5:50 everyone had already dumped their plates in the sink and returned to their usual evening places. Elliott and Vaughn were posted up by the fire, chatting about their latest reads. Moira was at work, annotating sheet music. Only Dani and Jake were doing something new – they still talked, but now they were joined by Dr. Harris Bonkers Ph.D. who was currently putting up with Jake flopping its ears.
Barclay put a kettle on and was just about to start cleaning up what dinner was left when he heard the front door start to creak open. It was too slow for it to be the Pine Guard trio – Aubrey would have burst in with Ned’s loud stomping following and Duck dragging his feet behind them. It could only be the agent. Deep breath. Here we go.
Agent Stern's feet are throbbing in his cap toe balmorals. Normally being on his feet all day wouldn’t be an issue, but the leather was still tight from newness, especially around the pointed toe. Leather – Don’t forget to polish. He's relieved to reach the wood plank path leading up to the lodge's front door. He admires the lovely garden that sits on either side of this path, well-tended and positively charming. If his feet weren't so tired, he'd happily walk through it and admire it properly. Another time. For now, he trudges up to the heavy wood doors with his suitcase and garment bag in tow and walks into the lodge.
His eyes follow the door swinging open, scanning the room as it is revealed to him.
Blonde woman from before, joined by sandy blonde man of similar age by windows on right with – a rabbit? No one at chess table. Chess players now at the large benches surrounding the central hearth. Piano woman now seated at a table. No one at piano. No one at bar. No one at left side dining area at all. No trio. Five. Flash of red plaid in window behind bar. Plaid man comes from kitchen door-Six.
"Evenin'! Had a good walk-about, Agent- … Agent … Sorry I don't think I caught your name before.
"Stern. No worries at all. I'm afraid I didn't get a chance to ask yours." He walks over to the bar where the large man is standing, but he feels eyes on his neck again. Smile. Be Genial.
"It's Barclay. You got a first name I can put down on your reservation Agent Stern or is th-" Nose scrunched. He sighs, "I was gonna ask if it was classified information, but you must get asked that all the time, don't you?"
He pulls his suitcase to rest on the river stone floor in front of the bar, draping the garment bag over it. He uses the moment to glance over his shoulder. They're all staring. He straightens back up and rests his elbows on the bar.
"Oh, several times a day! But it isn't a big deal." he lowers his voice and leans in conspiratorially, "And it is classified, but I suppose I can let you in on the secret. My first name is Joseph.” Walking a thin line already, Stern? “What about you? Can I be trusted to learn your surname, Barclay? Or is that classified?” Dial back on your tone, Agent.
Barclay chuckles, "It's Carter. No need for redaction. Thanks for that disclosure, I’ll be sure to keep that hush-hush." He looks down, saying Stern's full name under his breath as he writes it. Stern keeps his thoughts at bay by tracing the edges of the wallet in his hands. "And how long will you be stayin' with us, Agent Stern?"
"Oh, it's rather open ended, actually. Generally, these investigations last a week or so, but they can be a couple months. It makes life planning di-"
"A couple months to investigate a Bigfoot video?"
Incredulous.
"I'm nothing if not thorough." Stern feels his signature pleasant smile spasming at the corners of his mouth.
"Sorry. Didn't mean anythin’ by it. Just surprised is all. I mean, didn't think the FBI gave much stock in huntin' fairy tales."
Not a fairy tale. Bite. Sincere, not poking fun.
"Well, no stone unturned and all that." Don't sound so annoyed Stern. Gain favor, don't lose it. Clear throat. "I apologize, I'm admittedly quite tired. Travelling and walking all day – you know how it goes, right? I don't suppose those hot springs are open?"
"Oh! No, I'm sorry, of course! Yeah, they’re pretty much open 24/7. There’s a small locker room right down this hall. Just quick rinse before you get in, ya know? But let's get ch'ya taken care of. Here's your key, room 211. Just head up these stairs, right hall, and it'll be the second door on your right. Do you need help with anything else? Not to intrude, but did you eat somethin'? I was just about to clean up dinner. Coconut curry with sweet potatoes."
Curry? In Kepler? Now that it had been mentioned, Stern could smell it faintly through the open kitchen service window. He had stopped in a small Café - Elsie's - for an early dinner and though that French dip and fries were good, the wafting heat of turmeric and garam masala sweetened by coconut made him regret the choice.
"That sounds divine, unfortunately I did already eat. Is the chef here always so creative?"
Barclay chuckles again, a warm sound. "I dunno if I'd ever been called creative, I just like makin’ good food. Uh, but if you want to eat here at the lodge we have pretty standard service times - Breakfast starts at 7:00. Lunch at noon. Dinner at 5:00. Complimentary for guests."
"Oh, you're the chef, of course. I perhaps should have guessed."
"What? They skipped that sort of detail in your mission briefing? Should I be offended that they know so little about us small town folk?" His tone is light, now he's trying to poke fun. Barclay is already chuckling, but Stern draws his mouth into a tight line. He pulls his shoulders back and straightens his spine until he’s standing at his full height – a mere inch taller than Barclay, but it’s enough.
"Mr. Carter, I don't mean to offend, but I should remind you that, while I may understand a jesting nature, and that my assignment may seem frivolous, it is a federal investigation and will be treated as such. Please remember to refrain from making jokes or asking intrusive questions concerning my investigation."
Leaning away from me. Eyes wide. Chin tipped down. Backing off.
"Yeah, sorry. I didn't - "
"I'm sure you meant nothing by it, I believe that. And I do apologize for my intensity. But it must be understood that by the nature of my work, I will always have to take even good-natured jokes and inquiries seriously."
"Yes, sir. Of course, I understand."
Stern's eye twitched. He never enjoyed this level of grave formality, but when duty calls … Exhale. Don't forget to breathe.
"Thank you." Inhale. Neutralize face. He picks up his luggage and starts walking away, but only takes two steps before he turns back and sighing says, "I am grateful for your understanding, Mr. Carter. I hope you have a lovely remainder of your evening. I look forward to my stay here.” Flash of a bearded smile. Small nod. Stern nods back, then turns and walks away.
Grave formality, shoulders back and eyes up. Eyes on my neck.
Top of stairs, lofted landing. Still visible to lobby. Five sideways glances.
Breaks into two wings - East. Room 211, on right.
Open door.
Shut.
Sigh.
What a display, Stern.
Bite. Count breaths. 1. 2. 3. 4- There are things to do.
Unpack. Shoe polish. And that red-haired woman mentioned bedbugs. Note: Find out her name.
Barclay watched the other residents peeking at Agent Stern as he walked up the stairs – some only marginally more subtle than others. Don’t look, Barclay. Not for a second. Then it went silent. They stopped talking, all of them shifting their eyes up to the landing. Footsteps passed over Barclay’s head. There was the sound of a door opening and closing, and just like that the lobby exhaled. The quiet buzzing of conversation picked up right where it was left, and Barclay returned to his kitchen.
5:57 – the tea! The kettle was already whistling furiously while Barclay arranged an array of novelty mugs on a service tray. When he poured the water over each strainer, the steam came away fragrant as it whirled around his nose. He’d drink mint, probably with little to no honey. Not that Barclay should offer to bring him up a cup right now, nor would he invite him back down into the lobby tonight. Or perhaps any night. But he liked to think he had a knack for matching people to their drinks and food; that it mattered somehow. He took down and added the sweeteners while the tea steeped. Moira and Aubrey preferred honey, while Jake liked a lot of agave syrup, and Dani refused anything that wasn’t marshmallow root extract. Smart girl, that one. The rest would spit out anything that was sweetened at all. He removed the strainers one by one, setting them in the sink to deal with later.
This was perhaps Barclay’s favorite part of the evening. After every dinner, he made tea for whoever was in the lobby. More nights than not, this meant he made tea for all the residents. He got to speak with them, catch up with them, trade stories and jokes with them, and watch the small contentment that washed over them once the warm cup was in their hands.
“What did he say, Barclay?” Jake was perched in the recliner more than he was sitting in it, eyes wide and zeroed in on Barclay’s face.
“Honestly? Nothing of much consequence until the end there.”
“Told you,” Dani sneered. “You looked a bit frightened for a second, you alright?”
“Huh? No, no, I wasn’t afraid so much as shocked. Though, if we’re bein’ frank, it’s surprisin’ that I wasn’t scared shitless. I mean he’s huntin’ me right? But no, he’s very charming until you joke about his job. That’s when he got a bit intense. But he apologized for it too? I dunno what to think of him aside from-
“Him being a PITA?”
“Jake. That’s not gonna catch on, stop it.”
“I dunno Bear, don’t think you have the authority on what nicknames stick.”
“If you want your tea, Danielle, you better stop calling me that. God forbid I let your nickname slip in front of Aubrey.” Jake laughed, but Dani’s ears got red. “Same goes for you, Jacob” Now they both flushed with an even mix of dread and schadenfreude.
“That’s what I thought. Now, listen, I don’t think we need to be afraid of Agent Stern, but you need to be careful. Don’t talk to him about the FBI. Don’t talk to him about Bigfoot unless he asks you questions – and remember your answers for that. Hell don’t even talk to him about anything political. Do that, and we should all be fine. His charm might be an act, but he will be polite and shouldn’t cause pro-”
“Oh, do you find him charming? Mr. Carter?”
Where Moira was dry sarcasm, Dani was acidic innocence. She was blinking big doe eyes at him, head tilted to one side and trying not to smile too wide. Barclay left with her cup still on the tray.
As he walked away, he heard her whisper “Worth it.” while Jake snickered.
Stern hangs his garment bag on the back of the door but opens his suitcase on the bathroom counter, his bug kit is in a clear bag on the very top. Always prepared. With a snap of vinyl gloves, he starts stripping the linens – nothing. Flipping the mattress – nothing. Shining a flashlight along the bed frame itself – nothing. Uh-huh. For good measure, he not only checks the curtains, but every piece of furniture in the room and finds no eggs, no skin, no blood stains, and no sign of the tiny vampiric beetles at all. He sprays his repellent on the mattress and curtains anyway and scoffs to himself. Nothing if not thorough.
He walks over to his suitcase with its neatly folded and divided piles and started settling in properly. Remaking the bed, unpacking his clothes, and finally taking off his shoes. It’s only 6:07 PM. Plenty of time to steal for himself. He changes into a bathing suit quickly and wraps himself in the hotel’s fluffy bathrobe – so much for grave formality, thank god – and heads down to the hot springs.
The sun is starting to set and soon it will be difficult to see much through this kitchen-sink window. Not that there usually was much to see, just the edge of the hot springs and a lot of trees. In truth, Barclay did a lot more listening at this window. There was constant bird song from the tree-line and the sound of it mixed with running water and the occasional indistinguishable chatter from the springs was soothing. But it was late October, the number of birds decreased steadily as they migrated to warmer regions. In their place, he could hear splashing water and Jake excitedly shouting about something he couldn’t make out. Probably telling Vaughn or Elliot about some of the mountain biking stunts he pulled today. But he heard a new sound – a foreign laugh. Could that agent laugh this loud?
He leaned over the sink towards the window pane and craned his neck to see as much of the spring as he could. It still wasn’t much, and they were far enough away that Barclay couldn’t make out their expressions. He saw Jake, standing on the seat in the spring, waving his arms in wild gestures – definitely talking about his bike stunts; And he saw Agent Stern, arms leaning back on the edge, head facing up towards Jake, laughing carelessly. People can’t fake that kind of happiness so perfectly, can they? His eyes trailed down the Agent’s profile, down to the straps of Agent Stern’s tank top sitting on lithely muscular shoulders. Oh. O-No! Nope. Danger. Danger, danger, danger! He backed away from the sink and gripped the cool stone of the island counter behind him. I know better. I have better self-control than this. That man is hunting me to an unknown end. Handsome? Beguiling? Sure. But nothing more than a wolf in sheep’s clothing. If he finds out about any of us, gets even a whiff of Sylvain, that’s it. Game over. This is not a man. This is an agent of war.
In the soft orange hues of the setting sun, this is an idyllic sight. The cool stone path to the nearest hot spring is bordered by perennial flowering shrubs and short hooked solar lanterns. Stern gets into the spring slowly, sitting on the edge and soaking his feet and calves, so that he can focus on the feeling in his feet as the throbbing slows and eventually fades into pulsing. When it fades further into a soft buzzing, he lowers himself into the water until his shoulders are submerged and he can lean his head back against the spring’s wall. Eyes closed, he visualizes each knot of tension as they spasm into looseness. Knees. Hips. Each link of the spine. Up and up to the shoulders, spilling over both sides. Down his arms. His wrists. And his fingers. Weightlessness.
He lays back like this, still and silent for only a few moments before he hears the locker room door opening.
“Oh, hey! Didn’t know you were in here, my bad.” The blonde man. Even as he’s speaking he walks jauntily towards the spring Stern is sitting in.
“No worry, it is a communal spring. Care to join me, then?” The younger man is already getting in before Stern finishes asking. He quickly plops into the center and extends a hand out,
“It’s Agent Stern, yeah? Did I catch that right? I’m Jake Coolice. Nice to meet you, man.”
“Nice to meet you, too.” They shake hands and Jake moves to sit cattycorner to Stern. Not directly opposite. Strange. But friendly.
“So, how do you like Kepler so far?”
“I only arrived late this morning. It’s - ” Broad smiles at the sound of a door chime. Faces falling, first, to a hospitable neutrality as patrons saw an out of towner, and then to poorly hidden grimaces when the stranger turned out to be a federal agent. “It’s beautiful here, both the town and the woods, though I’m afraid I haven’t gotten to see as much of the latter as I’d like just yet.”
“Oh! You’re an outdoorsman?” Eyebrows raised. Eyes widened. Excitement.
“On the odd chance I get time off, ye-
“Oh man, me too! What’s your shtick? Hiking? Rock climbing?”
“Some hiking, yes. I actually like running – at least when the scenery is right. I hate running on sidewalks, it’s too noisy and crowded. Not to mention plain ugly. But in the woods? Or on a red mesa? That’s wonderful. I like running when there is something to see.”
“There’s some great trails out here, you’ll love ‘em. There’s one, a loop, you can pick it up from – you know that hairpin turn to get to the lodge? You just go back down the main road a bit there and there’s a sign for it – not too far.”
“Oh, that’s too convenient for me to not find a chance to try it.” If I get up and out by 5 tomorrow I might – too much work to do, Agent. … Another time.
“You should talk to Duck! I don’t think he cares much for running but, I mean he’s a park ranger. He cares a lot about the outdoors – he probably knows some good sites and stuff.”
“I’m sorry, did you say Duck?”
“Yeah man, he comes by with Aubrey and Ned most days. Dani said you came in earlier today and talked to the three of them?”
Why would that matter to a lodge guest? “Would that be Ranger Newton, then?”
“Yeah! That’s him.”
“And I’m sorry, who is Dani?”
“Oh – okay okay okay, I can give you the run down. Dani is the other blonde, my age. And there's Aubrey "The Lady Flame" Little, you met her already. And you know Duck, Ned, and Barclay now right? Then there’s Moira – she’s the one that plays piano. And Elliot and Vaughn are the siblings – if you see two people playing chess, it’s probably them."
“You know all their names? Have you all been staying here for a long time then?”
“Oh. Well, yeah. We kinda … live here.” Eyes dart to side. Dart back. And again.
Sigh.
“Oh, I see. Why live in this lodge and not in town?” Why would a handful of people choose to move into a small town without fully committing? Note: Determine how long these residents have been in Kepler.
“We like it here. I mean – how can we not? And everyone here. It’s … home.”
“That sounds, ” Suspicious in context. No- “... lovely. Though I’ll admit, I feel a bit more like an intruder now.” Laugh it off.
“Nah! Other people still come to stay here. I mean, it’s our home but it’s still a hotel!” Chuckling. Thank god. “Don’t worry about it dude.”
“Alright, good to hear.” Keep gaining favor. “So. What about you? Are you a runner too? Hiker?”
“I mean, I like both. But I’m more of a snowboarder slash mountain biker slash stunt enthusiast.”
“Stunt enthusiast? What like the X-games?”
“Yeah! Exactly! Like - ” Jake jumps up onto the bench, his face alight with glee. It’s infectious, Stern can’t help himself but smile. What a positively delightful young man. He starts gesturing wildly, arms swinging wide circles as he continues, “Like today, I was out biking – there’s some good hills near this trail going from Topside down to Riverside, you get some great jumps – I’ve been working on my Tsunami flip out there. It’s where, so you push off, throw your bike UP over your head, like this, and behind you? Right? And then you gotta sorta backflip back onto the saddle before you hit…”
He trails off into more stunts he’s done before, things Stern has never heard of; seemingly impossible flips and rotations and combinations. But he isn’t just bragging about it, he’s talking about each failed attempt, pointing out the scrapes and scars all over, and laughing. Which in turn makes Stern laugh. And he cares to ask about the best trails Stern has run, the differences between running on desert sand and woodland mulch. Another half an hour goes by before they finally start petering out and Stern realizes his head feels a little floaty. Probably been in here for the better part of an hour. He rises and collects his towel from its place on the wood fence,
“I’m afraid I ought to call it quits, before I get dizzy and faint. But it was a pleasure speaking with you, Jake!”
“You too, man. Yeah, I’ll see you around!”
“Of course, of course. Good evening, Jake!” Sliding on his robe and slippers, Stern leaves through the lobby doors, defiantly refreshed. The moment the doors open, he sees red.
Barclay heard the closing of three car doors and the sudden whooshing that signified Aubrey Little had just opened the lobby doors. They’d been at the pool for longer than he’d expected but now it was time to really get to work.
“Ned, Aubrey, Duck— I can’t thank you enough for helping me find this place!” Come on man, you couldn’t have stayed to boil for 30 more seconds? “And I must have lucked out, too, because my room doesn’t appear to have any bedbugs at all.”
“Well, they can be, uh… small. They’re real small… around these parts.” Is Duck … lying almost … competently? Barclay moved to look out of the service window, just to see if Duck was holding it together as well as he sounded. He just looked tired. They all looked a little tired. And Ned was sopping wet – what the hell? Stern was the one in the springs and he’s not dripping on the floor.
He looked over the tall man in a fluffy white robe, flushed from the hot springs and still beaming. Just two hours ago he was all but scolding Barclay for not taking him seriously enough. As if I’m not aware how serious the threat of him being here truly is. He could read between the lines – “This investigation will be taken seriously” meant “There can be consequences.” There would be no gleaning information from this agent, no matter how trivial. But this … this wasn’t the same man – the rest of them saw that, … right?
“So, you think they could— I guess I’ll do an extra sweep, thanks for the heads up. I didn’t know you grew bedbugs extra small here in Kepler.”
“It’s for your convenience.” Did his eyes twitch? There’s no way he believes this.
“I actually just got out of the hot springs, where I had the most lovely conversation with a man named Jake Coolice? He is a delight! He menti-”
“Yeah, he’s all right.”
“Coolice in the hot springs, huh? Love it. That’s a day, right there. Now that’s a day.”
“Yeah, it’s quite a name… Ned, uh, I was hoping to come by in the morning to see the full Bigfoot video, would that work for you?” No, no – something definitely flashed in his eyes for a moment. What was that?
“Ooh, I’m speaking to the Junior Chamber of Commerce at their breakfast meeting tomorrow… Maybe later in the day, perhaps?”
“Uh… I’ll find you, we’ll figure something out. You all have a—"
“Sure!” Damnit Ned, don’t laugh. At least pretend like you’ll actually meet him, jesus.”
“You all have a great evening.”
Barclay grabbed a towel to dry his hands and walked towards the trio.
“Okay, so, how did the investigation go?”
Aubrey made a nervous squealing sound. She raised one hand and tried to peer down the upstairs hallway Stern walked down. After a moment of silence, she said,
“Well, to answer that question, “Barkly”—"
“Barclay? How are you— you’ve been here a couple of months, it’s weird that you—"
“No, that’s my nickname for you! Barkly. Barclay, Barkly.”
Barclay heard the rustling of newspaper and saw Dani hiding her face behind a Lamplighter, but he could see her shoulders shaking.
“Cause you’re … Ahh, I got nothing. Alright, listen, Barclay… Not great, honestly.”
“We won… right?” Ned was looking at her a bit disbelievingly.
“Well!”
“Wait you fought it? What happened? I thought you were just gonna go scope it out?”
“Well, you know, that was the plan. But sometimes you make a good plan, and then there are a bunch of old people swimming in living water and you have to get them out and fight a giant puddle. It happens.”
“Living water?”
“This is the thing that I’m trying to figure out: is the creature the water, or is the creature using the water?”
“Aubrey weren’t you saying – you and Ned – that you saw a light in it? Is that something?”
A light? “Okay, actually, I know what I said, but that kind of rings a bell. Let’s retire to the privacy of Mama’s office, I think I might have something.”
There are no such thing as extra small bed bugs. He’s just trying to pull my leg. Stern is standing in the bathroom door in pajamas, steam still dispersing from his quick shower, glaring at his bed. They were just teasing. Maybe trying to scare me off. There aren’t any bedbugs.
…
He turns back to grab his bug kit from the bathroom counter- Crash!
Furniture falling? Door thrown open? Rapid thuds in hallway. Stern quickly opens his room door and takes a step out. He sees Ned, Aubrey, Duck and Barclay all running this way down the hall.
“Is everything okay…?” A flash of red plaid goes past him.
“Coyotes!” Ned shouts, still running. “Coyotes!”
“Yo!” Aubrey whizzes by next, unfazed.
“Yeah, coyote. Got coyotes. Let’s - stay in your room, stay in your room, partner, we got a coyote situation.” Duck is slowing down to explain things, but he is still moving.
“Yes, please stay in your room!” Ned is shouting, announcing to the entire lodge as he reaches the stairs.
“But it’s a protected- ” Aubrey stops suddenly at the end of the hall, turning around to face Stern, “it’s a protected coyote that we have to just kind of herd.”
Barclay is already gone, and there is the sound of another door opening. Why is he leading this charge?
“Okay, sleep good, bye!” With that Aubrey is bounding down the stairs after Ned and Barclay. Only Duck remains nearby, jogging backwards slowly enough to finish explaining,
“It’s a forestry situation, I’ll take care of it, don’t worry, everything’s fine, partner. Just stay in your room, because they can get a little vicious.”
Stern nods and shuts the door and can hear their footsteps quickly fade away.
How … strange.
He sets to work double checking for tiny bedbugs. Nothing. Of course.
For a moment, he sits on the side of the unmade bed, breathing. He closes his eyes, pictures each person in the lodge.
Barclay. Ned. Aubrey. Duck. Jake. Dani. Moira. Elliot. Vaughn. Nine people acting suspiciously. Nine people to look up. Repeat.
Barclay. Ned. Aubrey. Duck. Jake. Dani. Moira. Elliot. Vaughn. Under his breath, over and over again he repeats the names, memorizing, constructing case files that can never be found.
Barclay. Ned. Aubrey. Duck. Jake. Dani. Moira. Elliot. Vaughn.
Barclay Carter. Ned Chicane. Aubrey Little. Duck Newton.
And where exactly is Madeline Cobb?
It’s a late Saturday night in Kepler, West Virginia. Ned Chicane waves out the window as he drives away from Amnesty Lodge, heading back home after a long day. Aubrey Little waves goodbye, then heads inside, finding Dani and Dr. Harris Bonkers Phd in the Lodge’s “Family room” where they – and all of the Lodge’s long term residents – had been watching the premiere of Saturday Night Dead. They’re talking about the show, but they look exhausted. Not all of them got into the spring before Barclay had to shut the water off. But upstairs, in the opposite wing, Agent Stern sleeps soundly, unaware of the nature or scope of the terrible danger he’s in.