Lightning Trail

By Till Noever

NOTE:
This novel, though at its core lies a love story, touches on a number of potentially disturbing subjects, including:
• Chronic Depersonalization Disorder
• Suicide
• Domestic violence
• Patricide
• Adultery

• Language: English
• Publisher: Till Noever
• Release date: Oct 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005939168

Till Noever

For a detailed bio please go to => https://www.owlglass.net/about-me

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Vancouver

JACK’S AND LARA’S APARTMENT

You’re just doing what you’ve always done! Lara’s voice said from behind him as Jack left the kitchen. "But she’s dead ! No matter what you tell yourself. Those pieces left over aren’t Beth. They’re just pieces."

Lara’s voice was as cold and distant as her expression. Jack stopped at the door and considered the stranger that was his wife. He forced himself to at least try and take a step back from the emotional brink he’d been teetering on since Beth’s death, but found that he couldn’t.

"I’m taking her ashes to where she would have wanted them to be scattered. I owe her that. I owe her far more than that…"

Lara leaned with her back against the kitchen table; her eyes chilly, pupils so small that he could hardly see them in the center of her pale blue irises.

Go, she said indifferently. I won’t be here when you get back. If you get back. If you don’t get yourself killed on that stupid track. I thought that maybe with her gone there finally would be just two of us, but— her eyes briefly flicked to his chest —it’ll always be three for as long as you live. Not good enough for me. I’ve wasted too much of my life on competing with her.

She was my twin sister, Lara! Only family I had left.

" I am supposed to be your family! The most important person in your life. Remember? You promised me that!"

You are!

Lara shook her head.

Keep living the lie, but do it by yourself. I’m out of here. I’ll file for divorce later today. Move my things out. I think I’ll go for marriage breakdown on the ground of mental cruelty. Got a pretty good case for that. Now get out and leave me alone.

She turned away and stared out the window.

I’m sorry, Lara, Jack started.

Get out!

He couldn’t deal with this now…

Your choice, he said. I’ll contest the mental cruelty.

Lara whipped around.

"If you do that, I’ll file for physical abuse!"

Don’t do this, Lara.

Try me! I want out of this farce and I want it soon. None of this one year separation nonsense. And since I actually don’t believe that you’ve ever committed adultery…

Jack took a deep breath. This wasn’t where he had wanted this to go.

I haven’t, he said.

Well, then—

I know about Keith.

There was a shocked silence.

We never— she started.

Yes, you did. July last year. Maybe even before that. And definitely afterwards.

How—

Doesn’t matter. I know. He hesitated. "Tell you what. I’m going to take Beth’s ashes to where they should find their resting place. When I get back, we both file for consensual divorce on the grounds of marriage breakdown as evidenced by adultery. Maybe we can remain discreet about whose adultery."

"It’s your fault Keith and I—"

Seriously?

When Lara opened her mouth to say something he cut her off with a sharp gesture.

"I don’t care whose fault it is. Might really be mine. Maybe I was cruel. But it wasn’t deliberate and it wasn’t directed at you. Beth needed me. You know that. You knew that!

"Still, I probably failed you. I really wish I hadn’t, but Beth was my twin. How could I live with myself if I had failed her ? I guess I couldn’t be a good husband and a brother at the same time. I’m sorry, Lara. I really am."

Jack didn't even realize that he was rubbing his chest with his right hand. It had become a reflexive gesture that would probably be with him to the end of his days.

But Lara did notice. Her mouth compressed into a thin line. Again she turned away, her back stiff and unyielding.

There was nothing more to be said. Whatever would happen would happen. Beth’s death had taught Jack a grim lesson he’d never forget.

He left the kitchen and went to the guest bedroom of their rented three-bedroom apartment. Much to Lara’s dismay, this had become Beth’s refuge for a few weeks, when she had no other safe place to go. Until it all had ended suddenly one sunny Sunday morning, when Beth was fatally injured and Jack also almost lost his life.

After his return from hospital, Jack—though he was under strict instructions to refrain from too much physical activity—had attempted to restore the room to a state that wouldn’t have Lara think of Beth every time she entered it. He even had tried to remove all traces of the obvious, as well as subtle, scents that were left behind when a person had inhabited and spent over forty nights sleeping in a small space. That final removal of all reminders of Beth, even more so than the disposal of her personal belongings—excepting for the ones he found himself unable to part with—had been traumatic.

As recent events had demonstrated, it also had been futile.

Jack picked up his ready-to-go hiking backpack and returned to the kitchen. Lara didn’t look around as he entered, but he now was beyond caring.

Take what you want to take. Just leave my stuff alone. I’ll clear out the place when I get back.

Without waiting for a reply, he left the apartment and his wife of six years, to go and bury what remained of his twin.

LIVI’S APARTMENT

Do I need anything else?

Livi considered the items spread out on the floor of her now-empty apartment, next to her mostly-packed backpack. She had thought long and hard about their selection. After all, they were going to be the physical objects most relevant during the final days of her almost thirty-two years of life.

A disposable scalpel, still in its sterile wrapper.

A small unmarked glass bottle containing twenty tablets.

A large bottle of 90-proof Vodka.

A soft-pack Survival First Aid Kit.

Do I really need that?

Reason replied with a resounding ‘no’. After all, survival was not on the agenda.

Just take the scalpel!

Or not.

Stop procrastinating!

Livi stuffed the suicide tools and first aid kit into the pack, zipped it up and, using the straps provided, attached the rolls with sleeping bag and tent to the sides.

One last look at the apartment, which had become a space without memories and meaning. With no intention of ever returning, she had sold everything that could be sold. What couldn’t—or shouldn’t be, because it would end up in the hands of others who had no connection to her or her life—she had either destroyed or was taking with her, to bury somewhere on the way to her final destination.

ON THE TRAIL

LIGHTNING TRAIL ENTRANCE

Livi drove her red late model Mazda MX5 into one of the free spaces of the car park at the start of Lightning Trail and got out. She pressed a button on her key, causing the convertible’s roof to close and seal off the interior of the car.

So many ‘last’ things she was doing… Those she was aware of anyway. In truth everything one did was done for the first and the last time. Had never been done before and would never be done again; not in the way that it had been done just then. Except that in this instance Livi was acutely aware of it; of everything, really, even when doing other simple things. Opening the trunk of her car and taking out the backpack. Putting it on the ground against the side of the one and only truly unnecessary luxury she had ever allowed herself. Closing the trunk. Allowing herself one last brief thought about the obscure motivations that had made her acquire a vanity plate with ANIVILNA , an anagram of her two given names: ‘Livi’ (short for ‘Olivia’) and ‘Anna’.

She pressed another button on her key, which locked the car’s doors; looked around at the array of CCTV cameras on tall posts arranged in a circle around the car park. On top of each post was a large solar panel and a battery to power the internet-connected cameras, and the motion-triggered LED lights underneath each of the pickups. Technology designed to take the worry out of parking one’s car here.

Her online investigations had revealed that the car park was unusually secure, with break-ins virtually non-existent. The improved surveillance system had tracked thieves down so quickly and effectively that it made the car park into an unattractive target.

The surveillance and security system was financed by the track-use fees. These were comparatively steep, but Lightning Trail was a much sought-after attraction for day-walkers and long-distance hikers alike; all of whom were willing to pay for access to the park as well as the peace of mind provided by the car park’s security. The CCTV sent its data to a central computer system, which used sophisticated software to analyze people’s movements and actions. Those who exhibited suspicious behavior patterns found themselves recorded by an array of eye-level day-and-night cameras in solid steel enclosures, whose lenses peered out through three-inch apertures from behind smash-proof glass.

To Livi all the security didn’t matter anymore. One day, after her Lightning Trail access pass had expired, the staff would notice that her car was still in the carpark and that she hadn’t checked out at the reception. They would attempt to contact her on her cellphone and get a voicemail message advising them that they would find her on the shore of Lightning Lake. And they would; what was left of her, because the person known officially as ‘Olivia Anne Glinnes’ would have ceased to exist.

The sign at the start of the track hadn’t been changed for years.

LIGHTNING TRAIL

OUTER LOOP WALKING-TIME 15 HOURS

NO VEHICLES NO HUNTING NO FIREARMS

NO DOGS NO CYCLES NO HORSES

NO FIRES — CAMPING STOVES ONLY

CAMPING PERMITTED IN SIGNED LOCATIONS

The seasons, which had become more extreme with climate change—summer and winter almost toggling into each other with spring and fall being squeezed into what often was less than a month—had battered and weathered it, adding ‘character’ and an air of history.

Next to the old sign was a new panel, encased in a sealed green aluminum frame with a thick plexiglass cover, providing details of the walking tracks and locations of toilets and camping sites. The track map looked very new and did not show the track to Lightning Lake, which started about half an hour from where she was along the eastern part of the outer loop. The one she would be taking to her final destination. Where people had been murdered; the reason why the Lightning Lake track was a no-go zone, with penalties for those caught ignoring the prohibition.

Livi didn’t need the map to tell her where the forbidden track started. She had walked it twice before. The first time she had come here was not long after, quite by chance, she had found out just about everything that was to be known about the grisly history associated with Lightning Lake and the loop track leading to it. She had ignored the prohibition then and was going to do it again.

With one last glance at the carpark and her car, Livi shouldered her pack, tightened the straps to hold it in place for a comfortable carry and went past the sign. When she was out of sight of the CCTV, she stopped and shoved the car key under the straggly root of a bush, out of sight of passersby. She could have taken it with her of course, but there was no point.

Livi took a few deep breaths of the air of one of Canada’s most popular wilderness parks before starting for her goal.

LIGHTNING TRAIL PARK ADMIN

How many days? Jack hadn’t really thought about it. He could just go, spread Beth’s ashes across the lake and head right back. He could do that with an