A disturbance.

That was how dispatch described it. Disturbance at Tom Carlos' place.

The call came in at 1:03 a.m. Lara Boyd been on shift, patrolling downtown, when it was relayed to her. The drive over had given her some time to ponder exactly what kind of disturbance it might be.

Not a domestic disturbance. Tom Carlos had never married. Probably an animal lurking around. Wolves, maybe. A cougar. Maybe even a bear.

The headlights of her patrol car guided her out of Sunnycrest, up Harris Road, into the hills on the north edge of town. She knew the road well, but at night a mountain road looked very different than in the daytime. The road seemed thinner, the curves seemed tighter, and the tree trunks were like a claustrophobic curtain. A cup of coffee sat cold in her cup holder. She took a drink.

Lara was the only cop who worked the night patrol in Sunnycrest. She was all the little town needed. She'd been doing it about five years, and was a natural for the job. She was good at being a calming influence when responding to a domestic disturbance, and knew how to handle drunks, physically if need be. That was generally as exciting as her job ever got. She wasn't expecting tonight to be any different. Whatever disturbance was going on at Tom Carlos' place, she wasn't expecting anything particularly disturbing. Maybe the poor guy got smashed and thought he saw a UFO or something.

She arrived at about half past one. Tom's car was parked in front of the small log cabin, but the lights were out and so was the porchlight. She decided to leave her headlights on and pointed at the front door so she could see what she was doing.

She stepped out of the car, and her boots crunched on a thin layer of icy snow. Goosebumps rose on her skin as a damp cold penetrated the fabric of her uniform. She walked up the front steps and knocked on the door.

No answer. She waited a few seconds, then knocked again. “Tom? Sunnycrest police department. You in there? We received a call about a disturbance.”

A voice answered from within. “That you, Lara?”

“Yeah, it's me. C'mon, open up. I'm freezing.”

The door opened. Tom Carlos stood before her. The older man didn't look or smell drunk, but he did look scared. Scared, and as pale as she'd ever seen him.

“Thank god you're here,” he said.

“What seems to be the problem, Tom?”

Tom jerked his head in a northerly direction. Lara looked that way and saw a line of trees, with black, shadowy mountains rising behind them. “Heard something in the woods. Woke up, went to the kitchen to make myself a midnight snack. Heard something weird. From out there.”

“Weird?”

“Yeah. Something weird.”

“Weird how?”

“Like yellin'. Hollerin'. A whole bunch of it.”

“You mean voices?”

“Yeah. People. Sounded like a few of 'em. And some kinda...” He turned paler. A shiver shook him visibly. “Some kinda weird singing. Or chanting.”

The man's words chilled her. She shook it off and listened. She heard nothing but the living, breathing silence of the forest at night.

“And that ain't all.” Tom was whispering again. His voice was a fluttering wisp. “Think I heard screams, Lara.”

“I don't hear anything now.”

“It stopped about five minutes after I called you,” Tom said.

“Did you leave the house or try to check it out?”

“Like hell,” Tom answered.

Lara nodded. She turned and descended the front steps back to her car. “Well, stay inside. I'll go check it out. Probably just some drunk teenagers having a party.”

“Didn't sound like no party to me. Party from hell, maybe. Careful, Lara.” Tom closed the door, and she heard him loudly lock it.

The woman picked up a flashlight and turned off her engine. She headed out.

Teenagers. She wouldn't be half surprised to find Lindsey out there. Where there were partying teenagers in Sunnycrest, Lindsey could usually be found. She was one of those drunks Lara had become adept at handling. And where Lindsey was, Caitlin would probably be there as well, Lara concluded with a wince.

Lara really hoped that wasn't the case. She didn't want to have to play the tough mom. It wasn't something she enjoyed or something that came easily to her. But parenting could be kind of a good cop/bad cop kind of gig. As a single parent, sometimes she had to be both.

She trusted Caitlin's judgment; she knew her daughter was responsible and had a good head on her shoulders. She was a lot more sensible than Lara had been at her age, that was for certain. But she couldn't exactly let things slide, and let her get away with everything, either. In the end she simply preferred if Caitlin did not put her in that situation, and she felt Caitlin understood that.

It occurred to her that what Tom Carlos heard was perhaps not teenagers, but some rowdy hunters. She decided to announce her presence; her dark blue uniform was a far cry from hunter's orange. “Sunnycrest Police Department. Is anyone out here?” she asked the night in a raised voice. An owl answered her, but that was all.

She was beginning to think that Tom had a nightmare, when she spotted something through the trees. An orange glow, ever so slightly in motion. Unmistakable as the flickering light of an open flame.

“Hello?” she fished.

Did some teenagers light a bonfire out here? No, the flame was too small. The size was more akin to a campfire. But somehow, the glow did not look like a campfire either. It was too still. Too calm.

As she drew closer, she could see that the glow was centralized in a small clearing about as big as a backyard trampoline. A wall of waist-high bushes kept her from seeing the source.

Gears turned in her head as she reached the wall and pushed through it. Too calm for a campfire. More controlled. More like...

Candles.

Candles as she emerged into the clearing. Everywhere. All of them lit. Hundreds.

Five of which rested on the corners of a star.

A star within a circle. Splattered on the snow in red. Dark red. Blood.

And in the center of the star...a body. A body cut neck to navel. Bled and gutted.

The body of a boy.

One day earlier...

“Come one, come all!” announced Alicia boldly, to the pedestrians walking past the Sunnycrest Credit Union. “Cheerleader bake sale today!”

She and the other cheerleaders stood on the sidewalk in front of the bank, looking bright and enthusiastic in their uniforms despite the overcast skies. It was the height of afternoon, but one certainly wouldn't know it. The sun was nowhere to be seen, the sidewalk was covered with a thin layer of frost, and the people walked by did so in a hurry to get somewhere warmer, bundled in winter clothing. Chase held a sign which read 'Cheerleader Bake Sale', which she turned toward everyone who passed to make sure they could read it.

Behind her and Alicia were folding tables decked out with an array of delicious baked goods. There were muffins in a variety of flavors, cupcakes with icing in Sunnycrest colors of green and gold, Rice Krispie treats with only green and yellow M&M's included, and of course any kind of cookie you could dream of. There were shortbread cookies. Snickerdoodles. Chocolate chip. Oatmeal raisin. Sprinkle-covered cookies made with a cheerleader-shaped cookie cutter Alicia made herself. Weird little pom pom-looking coconut thingies. And much more!

“You want it, we got it!” called Lindsey.

“All sales go toward our spring trip!” called Caitlin, hoping to appeal to their sense of charity.

“Buy treats! Much bad for you! Come give cash!” called Chase. After that, Alicia and Caitlin asked her nicely to leave the sales pitching to them.

“Come and satisfy your sweet tooth! You deserve it!” enticed Tiffers. “Sugary delights, and it's all made from scratch!”

Of course, you can't just say that willy nilly without attracting a skeptic or two. A guy stopped and looked at the spread. His hands were in his coat pockets and his breath was visible. “Wait, did you guys seriously make all this from scratch?”

“Yes!” said Alicia with pride. “Everything you see before you was made with love by a REAL cheerleader!”

“Hmm,” he said. “Well, I guess I'll buy one of those big snickerdoodles.”

Money and snickerdoodle changed hands. The guy took a bite, then made an 'mmm' sound. “Holy crap. That's really good.”

A young woman stopped as she passed by. “Do you have anything that's gluten free?” she asked.

Alicia turned around and looked at their wares. She gave them a thorough once-over, then turned back and brightly declared, “Nope! They're all full of thick, delicious, savory gluten!”

The woman hesitated. Then, she reached in her purse. “Oh, what the heck.”

After a few more customers came and went, Nicole commented, “Well, slowly but surely, we're moving product.”

“I think it's the weather,” said Alicia. Goosebumps were sticking out on her bare legs, as well as those of most of her squadmates. “Maybe the bank will let us come back and sell here again on a nicer day. I think things will pick up once more people get out of work, though.”

“Still, I'm just amazed we actually baked all this stuff,” said Samantha, looking over the sweets with admiration. “I guess when we set about doing something, get out of our way, huh?”

“Well, Alicia did most of it!” said Brittany kindly, patting Alicia on the back. “I love your little cheerleaders and pom poms.”

“Aw, thanks!” said Alicia. “They were an experiment!”

“I can tell you really have fun baking,” added Melissa C.

“I mean, look at all this stuff,” said Caitlin. “If she didn't have fun baking she'd have to be a masochist.”

Alicia laughed. “Well, yeah, I guess I do,” she admitted. She smiled at Chase. “Chase had fun too, though! She helped me with all of it!”

Chase nodded vigorously, beaming at the memory. “Yes! Much fun! Leash teach to crack egg, and teach not to make mess! No mess! Mess bad! Teach to clean egg and milk off house sky!”

“House sky?” asked Rebecca.

“She means the ceiling,” said Alicia, embarrassed.

“Yes! That!” nodded Chase again. “Teach mess gone from see ling!”

“Aw, well that was nice of her,” said Rebecca, wondering what on earth happened over there.

“It is a pretty impressive spread,” said Heather, looking over everything. “But somehow, it seems like something is missing.”

“Yeah,” said Danielle. “We're missing an essential bake sale item. But what?”

At that moment, Lindsey ran over, carrying a couple baking pans. “I'm here! I'm here! Sorry I'm late.” She set down the pans and spread them out. “But more importantly...Lindsey's Mouth-Watering Deep Dish Brownies are here! Boom!”

The dishes were deep and the brownies certainly looked mouth-watering. “I made one batch with nuts and one without.”

“Holy crap...nice going, Lindsey,” said Caitlin. “Those look amazing.”

“If I wasn't on a diet...” said Samantha thirstily. She took one of the brownies out of the pan. “...I'd probably eat two.”

“Hey, put that back!” scolded Caitlin. “That's our biggest moneymaker!”

“Aww...”

“My god...” said Melissa C., eyeing it. “The edges...don't look crispy! Not even a little bit!”

“Nope. My edge brownies are just as soft and inviting as my center brownies,” said Lindsey confidently.

“What utter nonsense! That's impossible!” dismissed Victoria. But the evidence was right there for all to see.

Across the street, a mother and her small daughter walked by. The girl spotted them, and pointed as they passed. “Mommy, mommy! Cheerleader bake sale!”

The mom was holding the girl's hand with her left hand, and carrying a heavy-looking plastic bag in her right. “Now now, dear,” said her mother. “We just bought plenty of sweets at the girl's volleyball bake sale.”

The cheerleaders gasped in horror as the duo moved on without giving them a second thought. “The volleyball girls are doing a bake sale?!” asked Alicia.

“Fucking volleyball girls,” cursed Lindsey. “They knew we were doing OUR bake sale today!”

“H-how dare they! Why are they SO jealous of us that they have to copy us?” projected Samantha.

“It's pathetic. They really think that just because they've won tons of state championships and we haven't won one since the eighties that they're better than us in some way. It's sad, really,” dismissed Victoria.

“I mean...that statistic does literally offer at least one way in which they're better than us,” Caitlin pointed out. “Hard to interpret it differently. Just saying.”

Victoria added, “And what's the deal with those uniforms? Do those shorts really need to be that short?” She unconsciously held down her skirt as a breeze picked up. “What a bunch of sluts.”