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Fourth High School Student Disappearance in Two Months
In the past two months, a total of four Coolsville high school students have been abducted from their homes and surrounding areas. The first three students eventually reappeared in unrelated spots around the town, with no memory of where they had been or why they had several surgical stitches on their body.
Two weeks after the return of each abductee, the student starts to show signs of mental deterioration; they experience memory loss and changes in personality. The first victim, Hannah Hutchins (17) is currently being treated in the psych ward of Coolsville General. Hannah no longer responds to her name or can remember her life before her disappearance.
Friends and family of Hannah have said that she is no longer the “sweet and caring girl” she used to be; she is angry often and is prone to psychotic outbursts, involving prolonged screaming and hurting herself and anyone who goes near her.
The latest of these student disappearances is Donnie Gill. Donnie (15) was last seen walking home at 9PM last Sunday night; best friend Seth Dormer tells us Gill is a brilliant science student and he has no idea why anybody would want to harm him.
If you know anything about these mysterious disappearances or the whereabouts of Donnie Gill, please contact the local police station. Here’s to hoping Donnie is found as quickly as possible.
“But that’s the thing, isn’t it.” Lance tossed the newspaper beside him on the grass after reading the article outloud. “This Donnie kid won’t be found ‘as quickly as possible’ because the police are doing nothing about it. They can’t be fucking bothered in this town - there should be… I don’t know - FBI agents all over this but there’s not.”
There was an approving “hmm” from the direction in which his sister and Bobbi were sitting up against a tree. Jemma was dog-earing the pages of a science journal (to nobody’s surprise) and Bobbi was reading over her shoulder.
It was early morning and the entire pitch was covered in a thick layer of fog, and the grass was wet. Jemma and Bobbi both had free periods, but Lance was just bunking off AP maths. How he got into AP maths, nobody knew.
“You think after what happened to Hannah.” He heard Bobbi murmur quietly.
The whole school was haunted by what happened to Hannah Hutchins. Everybody knew her and everybody loved her, and everybody was distraught when she disappeared for two weeks - even more so when she began losing her mind and was admitted as a permanent patient in the psych ward.
People shuddered at the mention of her name, and they'd all heard the stories. How her knuckles were bruised and bloody from beating the walls of her room, how she'd left a scratch across the face of a nurse who had attempted to sedate her.
Lance sighed and pulled out the battered box of cigarettes from the back pocket of his jeans, took one out and held it between his teeth, then lit it while Jemma gave him a disapproving glare.
“Is anyone gonna do anything about the kids in this town?” He asked rhetorically while taking a drag. “Or are they planning to wait until we all get abducted by aliens and come back batshit crazy.”
“Hunter!” Bobbi hissed.
“What?” Lance shrugged. “Heard number three just got admitted - as soon as this Donnie kid is returned he’ll be joining them. ‘S not my fault nobody’s doing anything about it.”
“Well why don’t you do something about it then.” She sighed, closing her eyes and resting her head back on the trunk of the tree. Bobbi didn’t actually mean anything by it.
“Maybe I will.” He replied, deliberately blowing his smoke in her face to piss her off. “I can start a mystery solving organization from my van.”
Jemma looked up from her journal and scoffed, “Your van? You mean the brightly decorated transit. The one you picked up from the scrap yard?”
“Yeah.” Lance nodded. “Someone has to solve the mystery of the neverending disappearances of Coolsville High students; and if that someone is me, in my piece of crap van that hurts to look at, and smells faintly of pot - so be it, Jem.”
Bobbi and Jemma both exchanged unimpressed glances.
“Consider yourselves the second and third members of Mystery Incorporated.” He told them but they didn’t object. “No case is too hard for Lance Hunter and his Mystery Machine.”
“The ‘Mystery Machine’?” Jemma asked, raising her eyebrows in amusement. “The van’s already retro enough - do we have to start calling it the ‘Mystery Machine’?”
Lance didn’t answer his little sister because at that moment, it began pissing with rain and all of their schoolbooks were getting drenched in rain.
“Here’s a mystery for Lance Hunter and his Magic Transit.” Bobbi said to him while standing up and slinging her PE bag over her shoulder, "Why does it only ever rain in this lame town."
Hunter wasn't all too interested in school - but he had been told repeatedly that if he didn't attend, the chances of him being taken from his foster home and placed back in juvenile detention was pretty damn high.
So he turned up for registration in the morning, but left the moment either his sister or her best friend had frees. He'd only been there a year, needless to say he wasn't getting on great with the principal or his teachers.
His old school hadn't been much better, but at least he wasn't coming home to his drunken father every evening. The man had been released from prison when Lance was eleven, he regained custody and took him away from his foster family.
When Lance turned sixteen he ran away and lived in his van for a few weeks, but stealing food to survive can only get you so far so he spent the following month in detention. Jemma and her mum were there to take him home when he got out.
He hadn't asked where his father was, he'd guessed rehabilitation. Or prison again. Bottom line was he didn't give a shit where he was - just as long as he wasn't handing out anymore black eyes.
Kids at school weren't great - they'd all heard the "teenage runaway" and "juvie" rumours. It was the reason he spent so much time with his sister and Bobbi.
Bobbi was in his year; her father owned some pharmaceutical company in the city and she lived in this huge house in the suburbs with a maid. Lance had only been a few times - mostly because she tutored him in chemistry for a while, sometimes because Jemma had been staying the night and wanted a lift home.
First glance, Bobbi was one of those classic senior girls - the ones on the cheerleading squad with the football team boyfriends; but really she just had a rich dad and the right hair, right smile, right figure to fit the stereotype. She only really hung out with Jemma (and Lance occasionally) and had zero interest in cheerleading whatsoever.
Her father wanted her to get a degree in biochem so she could work in his company, or in business so she could be CEO one day - but she was striving for a baseball scholarship. She insisted to her family that baseball really was "just a hobby" but Bobbi knew and Jemma knew and even Hunter knew that the scholarship was all she wanted.
Lance and Bobbi didn't get off to a perfect start - a whole year later they still refused to refer to the other as a friend. Hunter despised rich people and the way Bobbi's father's company was run, and although Bobbi wasn't a fan of Morse Pharmaceuticals and was in a never ending dispute with her family, having someone constantly talk shit about her family was proving difficult. Bobbi was angered by how little effort Hunter put into studying, and his somewhat selfish tendencies - so they clashed constantly, much to Jemma's annoyance.
Bobbi had practice on the pitches so she'd gone to change, and Jemma had bio so Lance said he'd walk her to the science labs.
“Bobbi’s coming over at nine.” He told her, fitting his clenched fists inside his leather jacket pockets. “Thought ours would be the best place - I don’t think her family would be too chipper if he found out what we were getting up to.”
Jemma turned to him and raised her eyebrows, “Bobbi’s coming over at nine? Oh… okay. I had no idea you and Bobbi were… well, I’m happy for you both but this comes as quite a surprise.”
“What are you on about?” Lance frowned at his little sister. “I’m talking about Mystery Incorporated. Bobbi’s coming over at nine and we chose our place because her family wouldn’t be happy with us sneaking around and getting involved in a police investigation. Why did you think I’d invited her over?”
“Same reason as you of course! Mystery Incorporated… Mystery Machine… the mystery…” Jemma lied (badly). “You know Lance, I’m not too sure this is a good idea - I know that you’re very proud of your position as Coolsville High’s notorious “bad boy”, but I’ve never been one for bad girl shenanigans. What if we get into trouble we can’t get out of, we’re just kids.”
Lance noticed Jemma’s eyes divert from him, to a scruffy looking boy in a cardigan - who was struggling to hold four textbooks, a bunsen burner, and a very large pipe.
“And what if after this Donnie kid is returned and a week later they take another?” He asked her as Jemma nervously bit her lip. “He’s just a kid, he’s younger than you even. It could be anyone - there’s no pattern. You could be abducted or I could be abducted or… Bobbi. Listen, Jem; we’re not doing anything wrong so we won’t get in trouble, besides if we find whoever is responsible for this - we could be heroes!”
Jemma showed no interest in the idea of being a hero, and instead sighed at the boy who was having trouble opening Lab 10’s door while carrying his equipment.
“I suppose.” Jemma said eventually, “It’s the right thing to do. As long as this… doesn’t interfere with our studies. Maybe it’ll be an adventure.”
Lance showed no interest in the idea of Mystery Incorporated interfering with his studies, and instead told her “that’s the spirit”.
“So.” Hunter leaned back against the wall and kicked the skirting with his faded chucks. “Who’s the little V-neck?”
“Lab partner.” Jemma whispered, not sounding all too happy and then turned to her brother. “He hates me.”
“Want me to get my “Coolsville High’s notorious bad boy” game on and beat him up for you?” Lance teased. Jemma rolled her eyes and dug him in the ribs with the sharp point of her elbow. “Ow! Alright, okay - I’m sure he doesn’t hate you. You’re just a people pleaser, you’re probably just paranoid.”
“Lance Hunter I am not a people pleaser.” Jemma argued.
“When I was eight I went two months calling you ‘Jenna’ before you built up the nerve to correct me.” Lance reminded her.
“Jenna was a nice name!” She said. “And you’d been through a lot with your father and you’d just moved into a strange house with strange people I didn’t want to… I don’t know - I’m not a people pleaser.”
Just then, the bell for second period rang and Jemma gave Lance a rushed goodbye before entering Lab 10 behind her partner. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Fitz. He’d only transferred to Coolsville High two months ago but he seemed alright - except he straight up refused to talk to her. Every time Jemma attempted to make conversation or even small talk, he’d string a few words together in mumbled reply.
It was all his idea to become arch nemeses. Deadly enemies. To hate each other.
Jemma followed Fitz to the bench they shared, and sat down after he huffed and placed his equipment down. She watched him out the corner of her eye for a while - he sighed a further three times and ran his hand through his hair twice.
“Morning!” Jemma said cheerily, she turned and smiled at him. “Awful weather.”
“Always is.” Fitz agreed, not moving his head to make eye contact. He said nothing else, which was no surprise to Jemma.
She’s heard that his mother had opened a tailor shop in the city when they first moved, and Mrs Fitz spent her days fitting and supplying the men and women of Coolsville with suits. Jemma had often considered popping into Mrs Fitz’s shop just to see if Fitz’s mother was as rude as her son.
It was somewhat obvious that “Fitz” was not the boy’s real name. On his first day, he went to Miss Weaver’s desk and said specifically he wanted to be called “Fitz” and he was introduced to the class that way.
All of his lab reports and notes were always given a messy “Fitz” at the top, and Jemma’s best guess was that it was his surname. German sounding - which Jemma found odd as Fitz had a very distinct Scottish accent.
Halfway through Weaver’s monday morning class, Fitz did something that took Jemma off guard completely - and spoke to her.
“Couldn’t help but overhear…” He began, turning to face her and pausing - Jemma was so startled that she had almost spilt silver nitrate right down her blouse. “You and your - uh - brother… talking about Donnie.”
Jemma quickly felt her cheeks get warm, cringing at the idea of anyone overhearing her and Lance’s conversation.
“Ah… yes - ‘Mystery Incorporated’. It’s not exactly… uh…” Jemma laughed nervously, worried about where this conversation was going.
Fitz interrupted and said very clearly and very directly, “I want in.”
“Oh!” Jemma didn’t know what to say. “Oh okay. Well it’s Lance’s little thing really - he reckons that if the three of us - four of us now - work together, we can carry out our own little investigation and get to the bottom of this mystery.”
Saying it outloud, Jemma realised how ridiculous the whole thing sounded and deeply regretted not going the old “we were rehearsing a play” route with Fitz.
“It’s a great idea.” Fitz said - he sounded genuine (which took Jemma by surprise for the second time). She was about to reply “really?” when Fitz continued. “Donnie’s a friend - I want him back safe, not like the others.”
“That’s the plan anyway.” Jemma sighed sadly, looking over to the bench where she knew Donnie and Seth sat. Apparently Seth had been absent from all of his classes since Donnie’s disappearance - knowing what will happen to Donnie after his return, no one was surprised that Seth had isolated himself. “We’re having our first meeting at our house tonight if you want to join. The more the merrier.
Jemma immediately regretted using “merry” in the context of finding Fitz’s missing friend.
“Hmm.” Fitz nodded and scratched the back of his head. “Just whatever I can do really. Donnie’s a good kid - and it’s awful seeing Seth like this too.”
“Oh god I know.” Jemma said thoughtfully. “I can’t imagine what I’d do if my best friend disappeared.”
“Seth isn’t Donnie’s best friend.” Fitz frowned. “Seth’s Donnie’s boyfriend.”
“Oh.” Honestly, that explained a lot. “Oh. So nine - my house is across from the tennis court. The one with the orange flowers.”
“I’ll be there.” Fitz told her just as the bell rang - she watched him sling his backpack over one shoulder and slip out the lab.
That was different.
------
Bobbi had been right earlier, about it only ever raining in Coolsville. It was lashing it down now, she was sitting on the side of the road holding her baseball jacket over a head. Next to her was a streetlamp, but the bulb was slowly dying - the light had turned pink and flickered on and off every few seconds.
She’d been on her way to Jemma and Hunter’s house when her car spluttered and stopped. She would have just left it and walked the rest of the way, but it was a half an hour walk in the rain - and she didn’t want to leave her car sitting at the side of the road in a town like Coolsville.
Coolsville wasn’t notorious for car robberies or anything like that, it was just a strange town. Eerie. Like, Coolsville was not the type of town you’d let your kids stay out past ten o’clock in.
She was getting ready to give up when she spotted Hunter’s green and blue van at the end of the street. She wasn’t look too impressed when he parked the newly named Mystery Machine in front of her.
“Need a hand, Bob?” Hunter asked out of a rolled down window.
“Obviously, Hunter.” Bobbi scowled back.
“Just say the magic word, darlin’.” He smirked as Bobbi rolled her eyes.
“Please.” She huffed.
Bobbi let Hunter squeeze in under her baseball jacket while he lifted the hood of her shiny car, to her annoyance. There wasn’t much room, she had both of her hands above their heads holding the jacket up - so they were standing uncomfortably close.
“Your HT leads are all… they’re shit, basically.” Hunter shouted over the loud rainfall.
“What are you going to do?” Bobbi asked him.
“What am I going to do?” Hunter turned to her and frowned. “I’m just here because you need a lift. You’re the lab tech at ‘Daddy’s laboratory’ - this is just… basic engineering innit, can’t you fix it?”
Bobbi took a deep breath and tried to refrain from lecturing him right then and there, “Yes I’m a part-time lab tech in a biochemistry lab. I don’t know a thing about engineering - it’s a pharmaceutical company.”
“Well I don’t know how to fix cars - you gotta take this to a garage.” Hunter shrugged.
“Hunter please.” Bobbi pleaded and bumped into him.
“Fine. Fine.” Hunter sighed and lazily pointed towards the direction of his van. “There’s some WD-40 in there - it’s only temporary though.”
Bobbi left him standing in the rain by her car while she went to rummage in the back of his van for a stray can of WD-40. Hunter had been right earlier - the Mystery Machine stank of whatever Hunter smoked when he was supposed to be in double chem.
He said he got it from his “mate” Idaho - but both Jemma and Bobbi had agreed that Idaho couldn’t be this guy's’ real name.
Bobbi honestly didn’t know Hunter all too well. She knew Jemma’s mom was fostering him, and he’d lived with Jemma’s family when he was young - but asking about his life before Jemma (the first and second time) would be crossing a line. Bobbi had heard from Jemma that it wasn’t good, and that was all she felt Bobbi needed to know.
She supposed it excused Hunter’s lack of effort at school - and whatever he’d been through gave some explanation to his fear of loud noises. He’d jump whenever a teacher unexpectedly shouted in class, or tense up when a door slammed shut - it was little things like that Bobbi picked up on.
Whatever it was didn’t excuse him for being an asshole though.
Hunter never said anything particularly hurtful - he just had “I’m an annoying jerk” engraved into his personality. Occasionally it was stupid stuff like yelling from the bleachers that she was holding her bat at the wrong end, but almost always it was about her father or her house or anything involving the wealth of her family.
Bobbi got it. She’d gathered Hunter hadn’t exactly grown up with a family let alone money - but it wasn’t as if she chose to be born into a rich family. And it wasn’t exactly easy having an incredibly successful father put a tonne of pressure on her to achieve the same success - especially when her father’s kind of success wasn’t the kind she was striving for. Her Dad had never turned up to a single baseball game - the maid had, and Jemma had, and occasionally Hunter. But never her father.
And it was senior year now, so sooner or later she was going to have to come clean and tell him her “hobby” was her passion in life, not biochemistry as much as she enjoyed it. That she didn’t want to work for his company or one day own it.
Bobbi wanted to go further than boring old Coolsville. Hardly anybody ever did. There was a college in the city and most of the kids went there after high school, and got jobs in town once they’d graduated. It was just the way of life there - everyone she knew other than Jemma and Hunter had been Coolsville born and bred, even her. But it wasn’t what she wanted anymore.
The lights of Coolsville weren’t bright and dazzling - the streetlights flickered and the neon buzzed. Students from the high school disappearing in bizarre circumstances wasn’t even all too surprising. Coolsville was just “one of those places”.
But as Bobbi’s tenth grade english teacher had said, “nothing beats a good mystery” (Bobbi cringed every time she remembered) - so getting to the bottom of the disappearances would possibly be a change from the everyday boredom that recided in the grey and drizzly town of Coolsville.
Later, when they pulled up to Jemma and Hunter’s house in the Mystery Machine, Bobbi noticed a rusting green car parked messily at the side of the road. A humongous brown and black dog was sitting behind the wheel, with his nose up to the slightly open window.
“Who’s car is that?” Bobbi asked while Hunter got out the van.
“Don’t know his name - uh… Jem’s lab partner?” Hunter squinted at the dog. “He told Jem he knows the Donnie kid and wants to help.”
“Fitz? Scottish, curly hair.” Bobbi described him from memory, remembering to add, “Nicely clean shaven.”
“You know him?” Hunter asked, rubbing his stubble self consciously.
“Just from Jemma talking about him.” She sighed, looking back to Hunter. “He doesn’t like her, you know.”
“Yeah she mentioned that.” He said, taking the key out the ignition.
Jemma and Hunter’s mom had a nice house - it had character. Bobbi’s father’s house had none of that. Everything had to be white and spotless. In her dad’s words “minimalistic” so there was “less clutter”.
But Jemma and Hunter’s mom’s house was beautiful - there was climbing wisteria running up the front, which was a bright purple in the summer, but it was a warm orange shade now. The house had belonged to Jemma’s (adoptive) grandmother - so almost everything in it had been in her mom’s family for years.
Like this huge ornate Chinese vase in the porch, that was almost as tall as Hunter; and beautifully detailed paintings; an ancient wooden cabinet, a scene of birds and mountains and flowers handpainted on the front.
Apparently, Bobbi’s mother had given their house a personal touch before Bobbi was born. The maid had shown her pictures of the same rooms, but with colours and treasures everywhere. Her father had redecorated after she died.
Bobbi followed Hunter inside; he kicked his shoes off and left them in the middle of the floor, and then stripped his wet leather jacket off and left it next to his shoes.
Jemma was sitting at the kitchen table with the boy Bobbi recognised as Jemma’s lab partner. Both looked very uncomfortable; Jemma stood up as soon as she saw Hunter and Bobbi come in, and knocked her chair over in the process.
“Great - so… everyone’s here! Great! We can… get started.” Jemma stuttered while her eyes darted from Fitz to Bobbi to Hunter. “Mystery Incorporated.”
“Alright alright - we just got in. Let me make a cup of tea - I’m bloody freezing.” Hunter sighed; he put a hand on Bobbi’s shoulder as he squeezed past her, and she was pretty sure she felt his dick rub against her butt - but she tried not to think about it.
“I’m not wanting to step on any of your toes - but I’ve got a few ideas for launching this whole… investigation.” Fitz said nervously. Jemma was hovering, and Hunter was pouring the kettle. Bobbi pulled herself up onto the kitchen counter.
“Shoot.” Hunter said, turning around with his teacup in his hand.
“Alright - so. I’ve been thinking, even though the police haven’t done anything to find out what happens to the abductees - there’ll be stuff on the police reports that the press were never told.” Fitz said tapping his fingers nervously on the table.
“Police reports?” Hunter asked before taking a sip of his tea. “Bit out of our league, mate. I can barely send an email - forget hacking into police files.”
“I have a friend.” Fitz replied quickly, then glanced around from Bobbi to Jemma, and back to Hunter. “She’s… she’s good with that sort of thing. Computers, encrypted files… uh, hacking.”
Bobbi noticed Jemma frown disapprovingly into her tea, and Hunter’s face light up. Polar opposites.
“I suggest we interview the families of the abductees.” Bobbi said, “As friends of those taken; they probably neglected to tell things to the police. Hunter says you’re a friend of Donnie’s, Fitz.”
“I am, yeah.” Fitz said rather quietly.
“Look.” Hunter sighed, and carefully looked at each member of Mystery Incorporated. “There’s four of us now, we can get to the bottom of this quickly - we can find Donnie quickly. We just have to split up and look for clues.”
“Clues?” Bobbi asked. “You know we’re not playing cluedo, right?”
“Please don’t mention board games in this house.” Jemma said sternly. “We don’t talk about board games after Monopoly last Christmas.”
“Let’s split up and look for… signs?”