The Walk at Dell Lake

James King was a man who loved the outdoors. Nothing gave him greater pleasure or peace than to get away, even for an hour, to a nature preserve for a hike. Today, he was visiting his favorite park, Dell State Park, near his hometown. He had had many memories at this park, from his first kiss to annual camping trips with his family.

As he arrived at the park and got out of his Malibu, James was surprised to see that the parking lot was almost completely bare. Normally, the parking lot was nearly, if not completely, full. Today, the only other car in the lot was a black Ford Mustang. Nevertheless, James pulled on his pack, locked his car, and set off down the trail towards Dell Lake.

He had been walking for nearly twenty minutes, keeping a good pace, when he stopped for a drink of water at a bench provided on the side of the trail. There was already a man sitting on the bench, but there was plenty of extra room, so James sat down next to him. The stranger paid James no attention as he pulled out his water bottle and took a swig.

“Mind if I sit down next to you?” said James. The stranger shook his head but gave no other reply. James sat down on the bench and took another swig of water. For five minutes, James sat next to the stranger, neither of them speaking. At last, James got up, stowed his bottle back into his pack, hoisted the pack back onto his shoulders, and set off down the path again.

Twenty minutes later, James arrived at Dell Lake. As always, it was so peaceful here. The birds were singing their songs, and even the hum of cicadas was somehow pleasant to the ear. James found a bench that was situated on a deck overlooking the lake, sat down, and just watched the world go by. Maybe five minutes later, he was joined at the lakeside by the stranger he had passed on the trail. The stranger came and sat down on a bench next to James and watched the water. For a few moments, there was silence between them.

“Nice day today, isn’t it?” James said at last, breaking the silence. The man only nodded, didn’t speak.

“Yes,” said James, nodding. “Perfect day for a walk.”

Silence again between them. James shifted in his seat.

“I had to come here today,” he said. “Just had to get away. I’ve got an interview coming up at DellTech, and I’m beyond nervous about it. It’s my first interview in three years. My parents keep hounding me, telling me to get a job. I’ve looked though, and there isn’t much, believe me.”

He shakes his head. It’s clear he’s needed to vent, and if a stranger at the lake is the audience, then so be it.

“I lost my job three years ago,” he continued. “The company was downsizing, and I didn’t make the cut. I just hope that, if I get this job, then I’ll be OK. I’ve been scraping by, but hopefully the job will alleviate some of that stress and help calm mom and dad.”

The stranger didn’t respond. He merely continued to watch the water, giving no indication as to whether or not he was listening to James. Meanwhile, James didn’t seem to mind that his audience was silent. He shook his head again, grabbed his water bottle, and took another swig.

“That’s why I had to come out here,” he said. “I was hoping that a walk would calm my nerves, and it seems to have done the trick. Thanks for listening.”

He leaned back in his bench and sighed, happy to have relieved himself of this emotional burden. A mild breeze started to blow, and James closed his eyes, enjoying the cool wind on his face. He stood and looks at the stranger, who had not moved since sitting down.

“Thank you for listening,” said James, smiling warmly. James held out his hand, but the man didn’t move; he’s as still as a statue. At last, James seemed a bit embarrassed; his face blushed.

“I should go,” he said, and he gathered his backpack and stored his water bottle back inside. He turned to go when, at last, the stranger spoke.

“I wouldn’t leave just yet,” he said. James turned back to the man, confused and surprised that he had spoken at all.

“Excuse me?” he said. “What do you mean, I shouldn’t leave yet?”

“You’ll want to hear what I have to say,” the man said. “Please, sit back down.”

James didn’t move. The man looked away from the water and met James’ eyes.

“Very well,” the man said, and he reached into a pocket. From it, he retrieved a cell phone, which he held up so James could see.

“My name is Oliver,” the man said. “Oliver Felden, and it is now…”

He checked the clock on the phone.

“Ten minutes after three,” he said, “which means my men have your family.”

James took a step toward Oliver, his face ablaze with fury.

“Look,” said James. “This game, or whatever it is, it isn’t funny.”

“It’s not a game,” said Oliver, his eyes still locked on James’. “I have my men on speed dial. If they don’t hear from me, they will execute your family. One…by…one. I am the only one that has the ability to save them.”

“I don’t believe you,” said James.

“I understand,” said Oliver. “You’re welcome to try calling.”

James reached into his own pocket and pulled out his phone. He dialed and held the phone up to his ear.

“You’ve reached Daryl and Nancy King,” said the automatic voice. “We can’t come to the phone right now, so please leave us a message.”

James lowered the phone and hung up.

“Please,” said Oliver, motioning to the bench, “sit back down.”

James did as he was told, slowly sitting on the bench. Oliver smiled pleasantly, as if James was joining him for a game of chess.

“Have you heard about those recent murders?” Oliver asked, looking at James, who didn’t respond. “No matter, I’m sure you have. It’s impossible to turn on the news without hearing about them.”

He looked at James again, hoping for a sort of response. James didn’t respond. Instead he slowly navigated his hand to his pocket. With his hand in his pocket, he slowly began to call the police, moving slow enough that Oliver wouldn’t see.

“Daniel Turnbel was the first victim,” said Oliver. “I remember him. His young face, poor kid. All those years ahead of him, simply cut short by a gunshot to the head. Such a shame, it was.”

James shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wishing he could run or do anything. He hoped the police were listening.

“Daniel’s death taught me something,” said Oliver. “It taught me that a gun was far too quick. If you wanted to savor the moment, let it last into a hundred moments, you had to go far more slowly. A knife, that’s the way to go.”

He sighed, one eye still watching James.

“Paul Waken was next,” said Oliver. “He was where I really got my stride. A slit here, a slice there, and he was completely immobilized. Couldn’t move, and he was mine to play with and do with as I wish.”

He closed his eyes, as if he was being transported back to that day.

“He struggled,” he said, opening his eyes. “Dear God, he struggled. It was fascinating, but he couldn’t hold on for long.”

He paused for a short time.

“Have you ever sat with someone when they’ve died?” he asked. “Watched the light leave their eyes? It’s so…mesmerizing. I can’t begin to describe it.”

James shifted again in his seat, and he was stricken with flashing images: a young boy trying to fight off a knife, blood spurting in all directions.

“Yes,” said Oliver. “It’s almost hypnotic.”

At that moment, there was the sound of running footsteps as a dozen police officers swarmed the lake, their guns drawn and held at the ready.

“Oliver Felden,” one of them shouted, “get down on your knees right now!”

Oliver shot a quick look to James, who could see a small smile stretched across his face. Oliver slid off the bench to his knees, and the officers swarmed him. One helped to his knees as a second pulled his arms behind his back and slapped a pair of handcuffs to his wrists.

“Sir,” an officer said to James, “are you alright?”

James nodded as he got to his feet. He watched as the officers led Oliver away and out of sight. Once he was gone, James reached back into his pocket and retrieved his phone. He dialed his parents’ number again and held the phone to his ear.

“Hello, this is Nancy,” his mother’s voice said.

“Mom?” said James, trying to keep himself from crying. “Is that you? Are you alright?”

“Yes, we’re alright,” she said. “Are you alright, sweetheart? You sound…”

James cut her off.

“Is there anyone there with you?”

“What do you mean?” she asked. “I mean, your father is here. Should someone be here? What’s going on?”

“Never mind,” said James. “I’m just glad you’re safe. Is it okay if I come by later?”

“Of course,” said Nancy, and James hung up. He looked at the phone for a moment, his thoughts racing through his head. He then set off after the police and Oliver.

He found them at the trail head, where three squad cars were sitting, their lights flashing. He saw Oliver being loaded into one of the cars, and he hurried over to him.

“Is it alright if I ask him something?” he asked one of the officers.

“Make it quick,” she said, and she turned away.

James approached the squad car, and Oliver looked up and met his eyes.

“How?” he said, looking up at James with a confused look on his face. “How did you do this?”

“I dialed my phone from in my pocket,” said James. “I called, and the police heard everything and managed to track the call.”

Oliver smirked and nodded.

“Clever,” he said. “Very clever.”

“Now, I have a question for you,” said James. “Did you ever actually have my parents held captive?”

To James’ surprise, Oliver merely shrugged and spoke to the officer.

“Ma’am,” he said, “we’re done talking.”

The officer came over and climbed into the front seat. James stood, rooted to the spot, as he watched the car drive away. Just before it disappeared from sight, James caught a glimpse of Oliver in the back seat. As he watched, Oliver turned and met his gaze once again, gave him a small wave, and the car was gone. James barely heard an officer come over and speak to him, saying they needed his information for their reports.