By The River

The dawn light had trouble piercing the perpetual fog that hung over Greenly Bay, casting a somber glow through the dust-streaked window of the precinct. Vera sat at her desk, sipping a cold cup of coffee that felt less of caffeine and more of regret. The stale case files of the last few days strewn across the surface like a disordered topography of disillusionments—files on Lila Dunn, and the endless roster of children who had vanished over the decades. Her head was throbbing from lack of sleep, her thoughts a haze of unresolved errors. Martin Carey's otherworldly revenge loomed like a threat over the town with every passing hour, yet Vera was not going to be led by superstition. There had to be a rational explanation—a human killer shrouded under town legend.

The door creaked ajar, shattering her daydream. Kane Baker came in, his tall figure black against the washed-out dawn. He was wearing a leather jacket and a rumpled flannel shirt, his dark hair disheveled as if he'd just driven all night through. His presence seemed to stand out and capture immediate notice from Jack Hayes and Matilda Willock, who were both sorting papers at a table nearby.

"Well, if it ain't Kane Baker," Jack replied, his voice genial with familiarity as he stood up, extending his hand. "Ain't seen you around here in some time. You look like hell—bad night?"

Kane took Jack's hand firmly, a faint smile cracking his serious face. "You could say that, Jack. Fog's heavier than usual out there. Makes the drive feel like eternity."

Matilda looked up from her stack of papers, her young face lighting with a mix of awe and concern. "Mr. Baker! I heard you'd come back to town. You're all right? Folks in the diner were talking about you yesterday—all about how you're the only person ever who broke the curse."

Kane smiled gently, but his eyes were not merry. "Curse, legend, whatever they use nowadays. I'm here to help you, Matilda. No heroism on my part."

Vera watched the interaction over the shoulder of her desk, her attention growing more keen to a point. The way her deputies had spoken to him—more than friendly familiarity. Respect, nearly reverence, in their tones. She set down the coffee on her desk and leaned forward. "You all treat him like he's the mayor or something. What's going on here?"

He turned to her, still grinning. "Oh, Sheriff, you don't know? Kane here's a walking legend in Greenly Bay. Survived what nobody else has. In '44, when he was a young'un—"

"Jack, why don't you let me tell it?" Matilda said gently, throwing a glance at Kane for cover. He nodded, and she continued, voice a barely audible whisper. "Eight years old. He disappeared one night, just like the others. The whole town searched for him for two days. Found him on the riverbank, half-frozen, talking incoherently about shadows and a voice that summoned him. Said he escaped—fought free from whatever it was that took him. Doctors called it trauma, but everyone knows it's tied in with the Carey legend. He's the only survivor, Sheriff. The only returnee still alive."

Vera's eyes flashed towards Kane, reassessing him. The welts from their altercation the night before still throbbed on her arms, evidence of his strength and secrets. "That true, Baker? You were one of the victims?"

Kane regarded her calmly, his face unyielding. "It's true. But let's not make a big show of it here. We've got work to do."

She stood up, gesturing toward her office door. "Inside. Now. We have to talk."

Kane followed her into the tiny, messy office, the door closing with a click. The space felt even tinier with him in there—his magnetism was almost overwhelming, almost suffocating. Vera leaned against her desk, arms crossed, as he settled into the groaning chair opposite her.

"Why didn't you tell me all this last night? That you were kidnapped when you were a kid? Escaped? That's not some little detail, Kane. It changes everything."

He rubbed his hair with one hand, exhaling slowly. "Because it doesn't matter, Vera. Or at least, that's always appeared to be the truth. When I was found, I told them what happened—the jingling sound that drew me in, the cold hands that gripped me, the voice that whispered revenge. I told everyone about it. But no one believed me. My parents thought I was experiencing a hallucination due to exposure. The sheriff who was in office back then patted me on the head and told me it was probably some drifter. Even my grandfather—Mathias Baker—told me to keep quiet, that talking about it would only terrify people more. So why mention it now? You'd probably think the same—kid's imagination run amok."

Vera walked a few steps, her mind whirling. "I'm not them, Kane. I don't discard evidence just because it makes no sense. But you have to give me everything. What did you see? Exactly?"

He didn't have time to answer before the radiophone on her desk came to life, its shrill ring shattering the air. Vera reached for it, her voice curt. "Kingsley here."

A gravelly voice crackled over the speaker—Hank, one of the town's veteran fishermen, his voice tense. "Sheriff, it's Hank by the east river. Me and the boys were out puttin' lines in at dawn, and God, we found another. A kid. Eli Carter, I think. Poor boy's dead."

Vera's heart dropped, a cold dread spreading over her. "Eli? Are you sure? What does he look like—age, clothes, anything?"

Hank's voice trembled. "Eight years old, I'd say. Dark hair, red jacket and jeans. Neck's… It's twisted badly, like the rest of them. Eyes wide open, staring at nothing. We didn't touch him, we just covered him with a tarp. You need to get down here soon, Sheriff. This town's cursed, I'm telling ya."

"Stay put, Hank. Keep everyone back from the body. We're on our way." She replaced the receiver, her face white. Turning to Kane, she grabbed her coat. "Eli Carter. Murdered by the river. Let's go."

Kane stood, his jaw clenched. "Damn it. I knew it was going to happen, but not now."

They strode out of the office in haste, Vera yelling orders at her deputies. "Jack, Matilda—with us! Fishermen found a kid’s body. Eli Carter. Jack, drive. Matilda, call ahead and reroute traffic."

Matilda's eyes widened into horror. "Eli? Oh no, little Eli. His momma's going to be devastated. I'll call it in right now, Sheriff."

Jack grabbed the keys, his face stern. "On it. Kane, you want to ride with us? Could use your eyes on this."

Kane nodded. "Yeah. Let's end the nightmare."