Mystery Lake
[8] Questioning
It took the six of them a few minutes to break down their camp and get everything packed into the car. Jake, Ross, and Brock tried to do the heavy lifting, but despite their beefed-up muscles, none of them knew how to do it effectively. Instead, they fumbled around like a bunch of pubescent teens who got five inches taller over the summer.
Not that the girls were immune to this body-dimension confusion. Miranda's jutting ass kept getting in the way; she was thrown off by her new balance, and she was unprepared for how much real estate her tits monopolized. Chiara encountered similar obstacles but gradually corrected because of Barry's innate uncertainty and hesitation. Roxanne felt persistent frustration at her tininess, but soon pivoted to taking smaller items and crawling in the back to rearrange things. Being able to move around nimbly in smaller spaces wasn't the worst aspect of the change.
They got rid of the stream water they were going to use for cooking, and Miranda quietly urged Ross to keep the water jug hidden under everything in the trunk. Ross and Brock settled into the back seat, while Roxanne and Jake took the middle section, and Chiara held the steering wheel in a death grip as the driver once again. Miranda remained the co-pilot.
The physical disparity popped up again as Chiara struggled with her seat to find a comfortable position. She disliked the way the seat belt pressed against her chest, and her legs had to adjust their muscle memory to the pedals. The amount of hair around her head also bothered her. It took Miranda's hand on her shoulder to finally calm her down as they wobbled their way from the dirt and back onto the rough, bouncy road. The new girls with the most to bounce had the worst time on this stretch.
Roxanne and Jake expressed some skepticism as to why they were following this creepy guy since he didn't give his name or who he worked for. Chiara considered trying to drive off, but ended up following the black van to a modestly sized ranger station. While about half of the group hesitated when they got out of the car and the strange man motioned them inside, they all eventually did as they were told.
Chiara feared an interrogation room with mirrors, a steel table, and harsh lights. Instead of that, they were offered a long couch with several pillows. The strange man grabbed a rolling chair and sat down, facing them. He first asked if they needed anything, like water. The six of them looked at each other, but no one spoke up.
“Don’t worry. No brainwashing solution. Just some refreshments," he joked.
Through the main door stepped an immensely tall, bulky person, who they guessed was a woman, judging by the practically lethal mass protruding alarmingly from her chest. She looked like the result of shaving an angry grizzly bear and trying to squeeze it into a three-piece suit. She had the shape of a bodybuilder welded to a female sumo wrestler, dwarfing what any of them had now or even Joel before. Dark sunglasses covered her eyes. The strange man looked over his shoulder and asked, “Squirrel thing done?”
“No…” She answered with a growl that sounded ferocious and rippled menacingly through the room. The man raised his hand, and the huge woman stalked back through the door. When silence returned, he gestured with his hand and explained, “That’s Rydia. She terrifies me. But she's good company. As for me, I don’t think anyone needs to be afraid of me. I’m just here to help. Agent Cerberus with..."
He unstrapped the strange helmet he had been wearing and placed it at his feet before taking off his shades and tucking them in a pocket. His eyes were dark, but seemed relatively normal. The so-called agent rummaged through another pocket and came up with what looked like a small Rolodex of cards.
”Hmmm… the Department of the Interior. Let’s go with that. It seems like you folks had quite a party going on. Illegal trespassing. Dumping. And so on. Now, I’m not interested in punishing you. I just want to keep things quiet. I want to know that when you go back to your school, you won’t tell everyone that you went to a strange little lake up here and saw anything out of the ordinary. That’s all. It's been hard lately, crazy. We've all been pulled in too many directions. I got an eye injury, a mild concussion, and almost... lost a leg." The strange man paused to take a breath with a quiet, almost reflective melancholy filling his expression before he sat up and continued.
"And that's just dealing with people, not what these woods can throw at you. I much prefer the city, honestly.” The agent gestured to his pocketed glasses and the helmet with a chuckle.
He pressed them about whether they could keep all this quiet. Ross was the first to answer, firmly and flatly, "Yes.”
The agent clapped his hands together and celebrated his cooperation, emphasizing, “I’m so glad to hear that. You help me get all this squared away, and I guarantee I can help each of you avoid so many headaches. Headaches that come from things that are a bit difficult to explain to most people. For me, it’s just a simple mouse click to remedy. Making sure there’s no errors, misspellings, or confusing identities on the public record. Why… Helping out the federal government like that might even mean a generous reward for each of you, assuming you can all be helpful and accurate in what you can tell me. Who did you tell you were coming up here?”
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Ross blandly stated that he hadn't told anyone. As for Roxanne, she mentioned that the people in her dorm knew she was going on a trip, but she didn't give them any details about where she was going. The same went for the rest. The agent didn’t take any notes; he just leaned back in the chair and rocked gently.
His next question was whether they had taken anything from the lake. He gave examples of a fallen twig, a special looking stone, or some other notable memento. Again, Ross was the first to answer, “Nothing. Just firewood for the fire, and that’s back at camp. We used water that we brought with us because of health advisories about lake water.” Ross looked over at Miranda, who was hugging a pillow to her chest and shifting her legs. Everyone else in the group confirmed it. Chiara gulped and squeezed her hands together, but played along.
The agent raised his hands and smiled a gaunt, unsettling smile. “Excellent! That location is very special to the natives, so there are rules against taking objects from the land, like picking up a tourist trinket. And I am also glad that you brought your own water. There are...all kinds of parasites out there. Wouldn’t want you kids to spend spring break sick to your stomach. One last thing before we’re done. I’d like all six of you to confirm your names for proper documentation. Then, not only can we get all sorts of silly paperwork smoothed away for everyone… but I can also make sure you’re all compensated for your cooperation. All I ask is that you don't come back here. Or you may have to spend some unpleasant time with Miss Rydia, clearing things up properly. Sound good?” Toward the end, the agent sounded like he was rubbing rocks together to create the sound of his words, but with the last question, he perked up and cracked another unsettling smile.
All six agreed that those were fair terms. The agent pointed at them in turn and asked their names.
“B-baa… I mean Chiara Watson.“
“Roxanne Griffin.”
”Just Jake Butler..."
“Brock Eggers. B – R – O – C – K. E – G – G – E – R – S. Like the Pokémon guy.”
“Ross Hanover.”
“Miranda Rogers. No uncommon spellings. I can spell it out.”
The agent waved his hand and assured her that it would be fine. He still didn’t write anything down as he clasped his hands and announced, “This should be taken care of by the time you return to your school." Roxanne realized then that they hadn’t told him which school they went to.
Towards the end of this surprisingly simple interrogation, the agent slipped an old Casio-style watch out of a pocket and prodded the tiny buttons on the side with a degree of confidence that soon turned to irritation and fumbling for whatever tools he had. Brock leaned forward as if he were about to tip out of his seat and offered to fix it.
The agent eagerly relinquished the watch, and Brock strummed his fingers across the tiny buttons on the side as though playing a familiar instrument. Soon, a series of pleasant and satisfying beeps issued from the device, and Brock fanned the watch across his wrist, as though this were an impromptu prize presentation on The Price Is Right. Brock motioned to return the device to the agent, but he gestured with his hand and assured him he could keep it.
And that was about all they needed to do, as the agent soon wrapped up his presentation.
"With that, you’re all free to go and have a wonderful rest of your vacation… Unless there’s anything… Anything at all that might have slipped your mind or just not come up. You can feel free to mention it now… if there is anything else…” The look he gave was unsettling, but none of them cracked.
Without any further ado, they got back in the car and continued up the rough road. It was a little strange that the closed-off area marking the entrance had seemingly disappeared without a trace, along with the massive logs blocking the path. At least that meant that no one had to get out and push them, like when they first arrived. Only when they were back on a regular two-lane highway with normal traffic did everyone start to breathe again. Roxanne told herself that she wasn’t so much scared as unsettled by the so-called agent’s nature. Her best way to describe it was feeling like he wasn’t entirely human, despite the fact that he wore the guise of a man. The same went for his hulking associate.
Miranda pressed her hands together and thanked everyone for not mentioning the water. Ross shrugged and noted, “Way I see it, he didn’t press about the water, even though we mentioned it, so if it’s a problem, it’s his own fault. I just hope he doesn’t screw us over. If he can fix our paperwork, then that’ll help a lot. No matter what happens, I’ll take care of what I have to…to make a new life for myself.”