“CRASHED” PART 13
In the hotel room, after Ken and Patty finished unloading their suitcases, Patty reached for the remote and turned on the television.
The screen cut immediately to a red banner.
BREAKING NEWS.
A reporter’s voice filled the room.
“We’re coming to you live from Cattle Way Drive, where the scene behind me is rapidly escalating.”
The camera panned toward the tree line. Military vehicles lined the road at the edge of the woods. Soldiers moved in tight formations, weapons raised.
“The U.S. military, which has been occupying this area for reasons officials have yet to disclose, appears to be concentrating an unprecedented number of troops in these woods. According to witnesses, an estimated fifty to one hundred soldiers have entered the area—very few have returned.”
The footage shook slightly as the reporter continued.
“Several residents report hearing rapid gunfire deep within the forest. Earlier this morning, I was able to obtain a brief statement from Lieutenant Hayes of the U.S. Army, who assured us there is nothing to be alarmed about.”
As the reporter spoke, the camera cut to earlier footage—troops moving fast, urgent, pushing civilians and press back nearly a hundred feet.
“Shortly after that statement, military personnel forced our crew and nearby residents away from the immediate area.”
The broadcast shifted again.
“As many of you will remember, this is the same region near the Miller property, where a mysterious crash occurred ten days ago. At that time, we were told there was no cause for concern and were prevented from approaching the site.” As far as we can tell, the military has been in this general area ever since.
The clip ended.
The room went silent.
Ken and Patty didn’t need to say it out loud.
They knew exactly who the military was hunting now.
Cellima.
They locked eyes.
And without a word between them, they turned and headed for the door.
Ken stopped at the top of the road, where they could get a clear look down toward the scene without drawing attention. Given that the crash had occurred on their property, he felt it was best not to be seen right now. Patty agreed.
They pulled over onto the shoulder.
Ken reached into the glove box and took out a pair of binoculars he kept for hunting. They took turns scanning the area below—the woods, the road, the scattered clusters of people.
After a moment, Patty spoke quietly.
“Maybe I should get back in the truck,” she said. “If she’s still here… I might be able to pick up something. She could be trying to reach us.”
“It couldn’t hurt,” Ken replied.
Ken continued to pan the tree line and the thinning crowd, but nothing stood out. Just movement. Vehicles idling. Soldiers regrouping.
Maybe we just needed to see it for ourselves, he thought.
Then he noticed people starting to leave. Some of the troops emerged from the woods. Cars began heading back up the road.
Ken lowered the binoculars, climbed back into the truck, and turned it around.
As he eased forward, he was about to ask Patty if she’d sensed anything—
“She’s in there,” Patty said suddenly.
Ken’s gaze froze straight ahead.
“She’s still in the woods, honey,” Patty continued. “And she’s frightened.”
Ken tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
He knew the day was about to become very eventful.