Pine Brook Falls

By Matt A Byron

When his sister disappears, Charlie Noble returns to his home town in search of her. He soon discovers that the town holds many secrets and the residents of Pine Brook Falls are just as mysterious as the town itself. The mystery deepens when he learns that his sister was on the verge of exposing those mysteries before she disappeared.

Finding out what happened to his sister is just the beginning. The mystery at the heart of Pine Brook Falls causes Charlie to question a reality that soon begins to unravel. He is forced to re-evaluate things that he once believed were pure fantasy. Nightmares come to life at the realization that some of the darker thoughts of humanity live in Pine Brook Falls. Fables from his childhood such as the boogeyman and alike, may not be entirely made up from works of fiction, but rather grounded in a darker reality he never knew existed

• Language: English
• Publisher: Matt A Byron
• Release date: Aug 13, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370307760

Matt A Byron

I live in Southern California. I spend a lot of time writing. When I am not writing, I love going to sporting events. Aside from writing, I manage a Training Department where we specialize in training Emergency Dispatchers. I am an avid reader. I love mysteries, thrillers, horror, crime, and humor stories.

Book preview

If these were the last moments of my life, I hope I have not lived them in vain. Death was everyone’s neighbor. However, I always thought of him as living across the street, instead of right next door. I hope this is still true. I would hate to think that he moved into the vacant house next door. I don’t have any sugar to borrow or butter to share. I don’t speak with my neighbors. These are some of the random thoughts I have when I am facing a difficult problem. My mind seems to run wild and I feel that I am just along for the ride.

My name is Charlie Noble. My namesake is not a description of my own endearing qualities, although I do have a few. I am not special or noble in any sense of the word. I am twenty-four. I still live with my mom and do not have a steady job. I know how that sounds and it probably wouldn’t look any better to anyone observing my life. But that is all discussion for another time.

Some people say I should have been in movies because I remind them of the actor Chris Pine. He is the one from those Star Trek movie remakes. I don’t see it, though. My hair is a little longer than his, wild and unkempt at times. My brownish-blond hair and green eyes are what movie directors search for, so I’m told. But, I am horrible at acting. I can thank my high school drama teacher, Mrs. Spinner, for that assessment.

I am returning to the place of my birth. The town I was born but forced to leave behind over ten years ago. When I was fourteen, my mother and father separated. I left with my mom while my sister, Becky, stayed behind with my dad. Becky is three years older. I don’t know why she stayed behind. My father had a lot of issues. He drank too much and had a lot of anger issues. He and my mother fought all the time until one day, she couldn’t take it anymore. I think Becky may have felt sorry for him. She was seventeen at the time, independent, and was looking to be out on her own. I also feel that she felt a sense of responsibility, that being the oldest child, someone had to take care of my father despite how horrible he treated all of us. I, on the other hand, have rarely spoken to him since I left.

Becky and I have remained close over the years through phone calls and emails. Every couple of months she would come down to visit me. My father is still an alcoholic and has nearly drank himself to death. But from what I hear, he is still sucking up air.

The reason for my return and the difficult problem I am facing is that I haven’t heard from Becky in over a week. It wasn’t like her to avoid calls or texts. Furthermore, she had been acting weird lately, scared almost, although, she would never admit it. Now she was unreachable.

My job as a freelance writer allows me the freedom to travel and still earn a paycheck. The work isn’t steady in the traditional sense but it is enough to pay the bills.

I grew up in Pine Brook Falls, in Northern California. It’s located just a hop, skip, and a jump from the Oregon border. When I last checked, only about 1,700 people lived there. Spending the past 10 years of my life in Los Angeles had really opened my eyes to a lot of things that I had never seen before.

It’s ironic that while I lived only a few hours away from my hometown, I thought of it as being in another part of the world.

The drive up the coast was nice. The traffic Gods blessed this trip with only a few log jams, but for the most part, it was easy sailing. I can’t help but to wonder where Becky was. What happened to her? I was determined to find out.

I stopped for gas and a pee. When I got back to the car, I looked at my phone. Still no call or text. I scanned through my texts. Not to say there were many because there weren't. I didn't have a lot of friends. Just a couple close ones who were more like family. I stopped at the last text Becky sent me. I must have read it a hundred times. I read it once more:

Hey, things are getting weirder here by the minute. Can’t explain now but something really strange is going on. You’ll never believe it. Listen, call me. We gotta talk. Don’t worry about your big sis, I’m fine but things here are not. Your writer’s mind will go crazy when I tell you. Love ya.

I called her the next morning when I saw the text, but she didn’t answer. That was a week ago. My sister may be in trouble. I couldn’t just sit by and hope she would call. I made the decision to go back, to the one place I have avoided like the plague. I just hoped that when I got there that Becky was safe at home. Maybe she broke her phone. My mind wasn't as good at coming up with good scenarios as it was the bad ones. I wondered what that said about my subconscious.

I was back on the road and after another hour I finally reached my destination. As I drove through town, I was amazed at how much had changed. There seemed to be more shops and businesses along the street. The warm August air was waiting to greet me as I basked in the air-conditioned interior of my Ford Explorer. I noticed one peculiar thing as I passed a row of businesses. The streets were all vacant. No traffic. No people. No life. It was Thursday afternoon and yet the town appeared void of any living thing.

I navigated the streets as best I could with the help of my GPS. Some roads I passed by didn’t appear on my GPS. I thought the internet knew all, updated immediately, and could be trusted to direct you when you didn’t have any idea where you were going. Well, I don’t think the internet knew about Pine Brook Falls.

Thankfully, the town was small enough that getting lost was impossible. After a couple wrong turns, I finally found Becky's house and parked outside. It wasn't the same house I had grown up in. Becky had moved into this house a couple of years ago. My father still occupied the house from my childhood a couple of blocks away. One thing about small towns was that everything was too close.

I let the Explorer idle as I gazed at her house. It was a tiny, Tudor style, single-story structure. The exterior was a cream-like stucco facade, with two picture windows that faced the street and a single car garage. A stone walkway lay on the right of the driveway, which led to the front door. I tried her by phone once more. It went straight to voicemail. I turned off the engine and ventured out into the thick summer heat.

As I walked up the pathway, something unnerved me right away. It was quiet. Not a dog barked or a bird chirped. No sound of a car passing by or even a wisp of wind through the trees. The town and everything in it, seemed dead.

I am guilty of watching too many horror movies and in my mind was a horror movie waiting to be written. But this was not my imagination. As I stood on the front porch, I had the feeling of being watched. I looked around. There were a row of houses across the street. Every window was closed and blinds drawn, yet I felt peering eyes upon me.

I shrugged it off and used the key Becky had given me on one of her visits. It was her way of telling me -- come by anytime. The interior was dark. Only the faintest trace of light poked through the drawn blinds from the windows.

I closed the door and flipped on the nearest light. The flash of light from the overhead ceiling fixture chased away most of the shadows. The house opened up to a small cozy living room. A brown leather couch and a small matching recliner sat opposite a black TV stand. A small, flat-screen TV sat atop the stand with a DVD player on the shelf below.

Everything seemed neat and tidy. I walked farther into the house when something caught my attention. It wasn’t something I saw but heard from another part of the house. The kitchen was to the right of the living room. A doorway on the left led to what was probably the bathroom and bedroom.

I could see into the kitchen but that wasn’t where my ears led me. I turned to the left and neared the doorway toward the hallway. I heard it again. It was a squeak. It reminded me of how my bedroom door creaked every time I opened it. I took another step. A flash of movement came straight at me. I glimpsed a shape moving at me fast. Before I had time to react, I was knocked off my feet as the fast moving form crashed into me. I fell backward. My head bounced off the carpeted floor. I sucked in a breath. Couldn’t breathe. I gasped. The dark shape rushed out the front door before I had a chance to move.

I rolled over to my side. Coughing and spitting, I couldn’t catch my breath. I managed to move to my knees. With my elbows on the ground, forehead to the carpet, I gradually started to regain my breath.

A few minutes had passed before I trusted my legs to move. I got to my feet. The intruder was gone. The front door stood open. One thought crossed my mind as I headed toward the bedroom -- this was the first sign of life I had seen in town since I arrived. That didn’t make me feel any better. The only thing I knew for sure was that my sister was in serious trouble.

Chapter TWO

I turned on the light in the bedroom. The back of my head throbbed. My legs were a little wobbly as I leaned against the door frame. The first thing I noticed was the unkempt bed. The comforter was disheveled and pillows were spread across the floor. A lamp sat on a nightstand to the right of the bed. I turned it on from the switch on the wall. Besides the lamp, there were perfume bottles, a TV remote, and an alarm clock all competing for equal space on the black lacquered surface.

Why was someone in Becky's house? I surveyed the room further. The intruder was gone. Becky was missing. I needed to have a look around. There had to be something that would help me understand what was going on.

I went to the closet door and opened it. Her clothes were still there. It didn’t appear that she had packed anything. Next, I went to the dresser. Now, I am not the type of person that goes through other people’s things, but this was an extreme circumstance. I searched the drawers, not sure what I was expecting to find, but as it happens, I found nothing. I remember when we were kids, we used to hide things under the bottom drawer. The space between the floor and the drawer was perfect for hiding whatever we didn’t want our parents to find.

I pulled out the bottom drawer and placed it on the floor. The area was dark. I used the flashlight on my phone and poked my nose in the opening. There was a small black spiral notebook resting in the far corner. I reached in and grabbed it. I shut off the flashlight and put my phone on the floor next to me.

The notebook was no bigger than my hands. Becky had always loved to keep journals as a kid, and I was hesitant to start pouring through my sister's thoughts. She would forgive me. I opened the notebook. There were words scribbled across the page. Some words were legible in neat blue ink while others were unreadable. The caption at the top of the page read: Pine Brook Falls Mystery.

I turned the page as I heard a car door shut outside the window. I got up and peeked through the blinds. A police cruiser parked behind my Explorer. The officer, dressed in a dark brown police uniform, walked over to my car and looked inside the driver’s window. I turned from the window, slid the drawer back in, and grabbed my phone off the floor. I nestled the small notebook in my waistband at the small of my back and slipped my t-shirt over it.

The officer was standing on the front porch as I made my way to the open door. He wore dark wire-rimmed sunglasses. He was taller than I was, maybe 6’ and looked like he could choke out an ox with his bare hands. His hair was cut short, brown, with specks of white at the scalp. His face appeared leathery as if he had spent his entire life in the direct path of the sun.

Hello, I said. I know my voice sounded shaky. Although I had done nothing wrong, his presence made me extremely nervous.

Hello. I was patrolling the area and noticed your vehicle parked over there. Haven't seen it around here before. Then I noticed the front door open and figured I would have a look.

His voice was deep and the way his hand rested on his holstered gun made my heart jump a bit.

This is my sister’s house. Becky. Becky Noble. She’s not here right now.

He seemed to study me for a few uncomfortable moments without saying a word. Not being able to see his eyes only added to my anxiety.

You must be Charlie. I’m Sheriff Jonathan Becket.

I nodded.

I haven’t seen your sister in a few days. I figured she must have left to visit you like she sometimes does. She didn’t go out to visit you?

At this moment, the prudent thing to do would be to tell the sheriff that my sister had disappeared and she may be in trouble. But the voice inside my head objected. So I lied.

I wanted to surprise her. Maybe she wanted to do the same to me and we just missed each other.

Sheriff Becket stepped inside and looked around. In one smooth motion, he took off his glasses and tucked them into his front shirt pocket. He stared at me for a moment. I could feel the sweat building on my brow from the awkward silence.

Well, that’s a shame. I know she would have liked to have seen you. Are you going to be staying in our town for a while or are you heading back home?

He didn’t want me to stay. His mouth twitched as he asked the question. Everything about his facial features was insinuating that I was not welcome here. Maybe it was my wild imagination again but it’s safer sometimes not to doubt your intuition.

I was probably going to stay a few days. Maybe visit my father. Hopefully, she comes back before I leave.

"Your father, Ernest, sorry to