Chapter 32: Camping at Crystal Lake

Chapter 32: Chapter 32: Camping at Crystal Lake

Chapter 32: Camping at Crystal Lake

At Axel’s question, Clarice Starling’s faint smile disappeared, and she rubbed her forehead with two fingers. "Internal review is exactly what you’d expect. Endless statements, repeated interviews, and people asking the same question ten different ways, but our accounts matched and Chief Woody backed us, so the factory shooting has basically been ruled justified self-defense."

"That’s good," Axel Vance said, leaning back slightly in his chair. Clarice immediately gave him a tired look and sighed. "Good would be finding the people behind all this instead of watching every lead die."

She pushed several folders aside and lowered her voice. "We went through Shark Renovation Company’s finances, but almost everything led to shell companies, fake addresses, or accounts created solely to move money somewhere else. The businessmen your department arrested all died overnight in separate locations, and every one of them suffered the same unexplained internal heart failure."

Axel’s expression became serious because the details matched exactly what Woody had already told him. Gerald Olin had died inside a police interrogation room, and now several wealthy suspects had been silenced through the same impossible method despite being separated and guarded. Whatever organization they were facing could reach people almost anywhere.

"The Bureau’s forensic people couldn’t find a normal cause?" Axel asked. Clarice shook her head and replied, "Nothing useful. No poison they could identify, no obvious trauma, and no clear mechanism that explains how several people could die almost identically at the same time."

She hesitated before continuing. "The people above me have effectively sealed the larger investigation for now. Their argument is that if this organization reaches as deeply as the evidence suggests, pushing too hard without knowing what we’re dealing with could create a national-level disaster."

Axel fell silent.

He understood the fear behind that decision, but burying something dangerous had never made it harmless. If anything, leaving the cult alone would only give it more time to recruit, experiment, and erase whatever evidence remained.

"So what happens to you?" Axel asked after a moment. Clarice straightened slightly and replied, "I’ve been reassigned to investigate several strange murders. Officially, I’m supposed to move on."

Her tired expression sharpened.

"Unofficially, I’m not letting this go."

Axel smiled. "Neither am I."

Clarice nodded once before noticing the relaxed way he was sitting. "What about you? Woody putting you back on patrol?"

Axel spread his hands. "Not exactly. Apparently I attract too many impossible cases, so he decided the safest place for me is the woods."

Clarice frowned. "The woods?"

"I’ve been temporarily assigned as a forest ranger."

She stared at him.

"Where?"

"Crystal Lake."

Clarice immediately dropped her forehead onto the desk and covered the back of her head with both arms. "That is completely unfair. I get another stack of murder files, and you get sent on vacation to a lake."

Axel laughed and lightly patted the top of her head. "I’ll think of you while I’m sitting beside the water doing absolutely nothing."

"That makes it worse."

Axel stood and pushed his chair back beneath the desk. "I should go pack before Woody changes his mind and sends me somewhere worse."

Clarice suddenly lifted her head.

Her voice became quiet enough that only Axel could hear it.

"No matter what the Bureau says, I’m going to keep looking."

Axel stopped near the doorway and turned back toward her. The exhaustion was still visible around Clarice’s eyes, but beneath it was the same determination that had kept her beside him through Michael Myers, Room 1408, and the record-factory massacre. "Then when one of us finds something, we call the other."

Clarice smiled.

"Deal."

The next morning, Axel’s new Ford pickup rolled steadily along the interstate as Miami disappeared behind him. For the first time in what felt like weeks, there were no sirens nearby, no cultists trying to recruit him, and no dead serial killers climbing back to their feet. A temporary forest-ranger assignment was starting to sound less like hiding and more like the best paid vacation of his life.

Several hours into the drive, Axel stopped at a roadside rest area to stretch his legs and check the supplies loaded into the truck. He noticed the cases of bottled water he had purchased before leaving and immediately remembered that Holy Water still sat at only 3/1000 EXP. Since he had nothing chasing him for once, training the skill seemed like a good use of the long trip.

Axel sat on the lowered tailgate, opened one bottle, and quietly recited the scripture he had memorized through repeated Holy Reading practice. A faint strand of Psionic Power flowed through his hand into the water, producing no visible light or other dramatic effect. A moment later, the familiar system notification appeared.

[Holy Water successfully created.]

[Holy Water: EXP +3]

[Holy Water Lv.1 — 6/1000]

Axel looked at the tiny increase and sighed. Three experience points per bottle was painfully slow, but unlike fighting supernatural killers, this training method was safe, cheap, and repeatable. He opened another bottle and continued.

By the time Axel finished, dozens of ordinary-looking bottles were lined neatly inside the truck. Each contained a small amount of holy power that could potentially become extremely useful if Crystal Lake turned out to be anything like the stories he remembered. The system confirmed the final result once he packed the last bottle away.

[Holy Water Lv.1 — 156/1000]

Axel nodded with satisfaction and closed the tailgate. The bottles did not look impressive, but he considered them reserve ammunition against anything that ignored bullets. After his experiences with Michael Myers and the regenerating cultist, carrying too much anti-supernatural equipment no longer seemed possible.

The farther he drove, the more the scenery changed. Miami’s towers and crowded roads gradually gave way to open fields, small towns, long stretches of highway, and eventually narrow country roads surrounded by dense woodland. The old directions Woody had given him were barely better than guesses, but they eventually led Axel away from the paved road entirely.

At a lonely intersection stood a weather-beaten wooden sign with peeling paint. Most of its original color had vanished beneath years of rain and sun, but the faded lettering could still be read clearly enough. CRYSTAL LAKE WELCOMES YOU.

Axel slowed the pickup.

"Of course it does."

The road beyond the sign became rougher with every mile, but the Ford handled the dirt and shallow ruts far better than a normal sedan would have. Dense woods closed in around both sides of the road until the trees nearly blocked the afternoon sun. Axel had to admit there was a reason pickups were so popular outside the cities.

Eventually, a handful of simple wooden cabins appeared between the trees near the lake. Axel was beginning to wonder whether he had taken a wrong turn when he spotted a woman in a forest-ranger uniform standing in front of one cabin with one hand on her hip and an axe in the other. Several children were racing around her while she shouted at them to stop throwing pinecones at each other.

Axel parked and climbed out.

"Hi, I’m Axel Vance. Woody sent me—"

The woman immediately dropped the axe into the grass and hurried toward him with visible relief. "Thank God. You’re Axel, right? I’m Ethel, and apparently you’re my coworker for the next few months."

She glanced toward the children and added, "If you hadn’t shown up soon, I was seriously considering feeding at least two of them to the bears."

Axel laughed before studying her more closely. Ethel looked around twenty-five or twenty-six, with sun-browned skin, tired eyes, and dark hair pulled into a practical ponytail. If Woody had remembered the family connection correctly, she was the daughter of the relative whose number he had found on the old Crystal Lake flyer.

Axel looked past her toward the cabins and children. "I thought this was a recreation area. Why does it look like I just volunteered at a summer camp?"

Ethel sighed. "Because Crystal Lake’s reputation keeps normal tourists away, so the town helps fund the place on the condition that we supervise kids during school breaks. It gives families who can’t afford expensive camps or babysitters somewhere cheap to send them for a few days."

Axel stared at her.

"They send children here?"

Ethel shrugged. "The really bad stories were years ago, and people convince themselves anything frightening becomes harmless if enough time passes. Around here, they mostly treat the Camp Blood reputation like an old ghost story now."

Axel looked toward the dark tree line.

He knew better.

"Are you seriously running this place alone?"

"Normally, no." Ethel folded her arms and explained, "There’s another caretaker named Ralph who helps around the cabins and trails, but he said he had some family trouble about a week ago. Nobody’s heard from him since, and his phone hasn’t been answered."

That sounded slightly less harmless.

Before Axel could ask more questions, Ethel picked up the axe and shoved the handle into his hands. "You can investigate missing caretakers later. Right now, Ranger Vance, we need enough firewood to keep this little army warm tonight."

A chubby boy immediately ran over and gave Axel an exaggerated salute. "Boy Scout reporting for duty, sir."

Axel looked down at him and laughed.

Maybe this assignment would actually be peaceful.

If families were still willing to send children here, the chances of a hockey-masked immortal killer appearing tonight could not be that high.

Probably.

Axel walked toward a stack of unsplit logs while several children followed curiously behind him. He weighed the axe in one hand, selected a thick section of wood nearly as wide as a man’s thigh, and casually swung downward without using anything close to his full strength. The log split cleanly in half with a sharp crack.

The children immediately erupted.

"Whoa!"

"Do it again!"

"How did you do that?"

Axel smiled while the group crowded around him and started firing questions from every direction. Ethel watched for several seconds before visibly relaxing, apparently delighted that the newcomer had instantly become more interesting than tormenting her. She slipped into one of the cabins to start preparing dinner while Axel continued splitting firewood under an increasingly enthusiastic audience.

By evening, the campsite had transformed into something almost comfortable. Everyone ate together, and afterward the children gathered around a large bonfire Axel had helped build while the woods darkened beyond the circle of orange light. For once, nobody was trying to kill him.

The children were fascinated by stories about Miami. One boy leaned forward and asked, "Axel, do kids in the city all have video games at home?" Axel thought of Steve and replied, "Not everybody, but I work with a guy who plays them constantly."

Another child immediately asked, "What about comic books?"

"My coworker has plenty of those too."

The chubby boy frowned thoughtfully. "Does your coworker ever work?"

Axel considered the question.

"Sometimes."

The children laughed.

A girl sitting near the fire finally asked, "Why did you come all the way out here if you’re a police officer?"

Axel stared into the flames for a moment and answered in the same calm tone he might have used to discuss the weather. "I accidentally shot and killed a few dozen people during an investigation, so my boss decided I needed some time in the countryside."

The entire circle went silent.

Then every child burst out laughing.

The chubby boy slapped his knee. "Axel, you’re hilarious!"

Axel smiled at the fire.

"Yeah," he said. "That was a joke."

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