After Life

by Andrew Neiderman

Flustered, she spun around, indecisive about what direction to take. Once again she thought it wasn’t safe anywhere in the house, and so she groped her way to the front door and seized the knob. Was that laughter? She didn’t wait to find out. She turned the knob and stepped into the entryway. The moment she did so, she heard the shuffle, those horrible footsteps. Now he was coming down the stairs…slide, step, slide, step.

  She lunged ahead and ran her hands over the large front door until she found the knob. In moments she turned it and burst out, forgetting the distance between the door and the steps. Unfortunately she missed the top step and went tumbling down, slapping her shoulder hard on the slate walkway. The fall left her stunned for a few moments. Then she distinctly heard the front door being opened again.

  She got to her hands and knees quickly and thrust herself forward until she was on her feet again. In her panic, however, she had lost her sense of direction, lost the image of the front of the house she had memorized so well. Terrified she would run into something or fall off of something, she froze after going only a few feet.

  She heard him behind her on the porch. She heard him take the first step and then the second.

  “HELP!” she screamed, and turned. “HELP! SOMEONE, HELP ME!” She spun around and extended her arms. The spinning caused her to lose her footing and she fell on the grass. For a few moments she simply lay there crying. She heard him coming toward her, but she was too tired and too confused to flee. She lay there, waiting, sobbing. He was right beside her. For a moment he just stood there looking down at her. Then, to her surprise and relief, he continued on, away from her, moving toward the street.

  She pressed her face to the grass and relaxed her body. That was where Patrolmen Burt Peters and Greg Daniels found her when they arrived. Lee’s panicked phone call had brought them running. Siren blaring and bubble light spinning, they were at the DeGroot house minutes later.

  “Mrs. Overstreet?” Burt said, taking her arm and urging her to try to stand. “It’s the police, Mrs. Overstreet.”

  Jessie raised her head from the grass.

  “Your husband will be here any moment, ma’am,” Greg said. “Why don’t you try to stand and we’ll go into the house, okay?”

  “Is he gone?” she asked.

  “Who, ma’am?” Burt asked.

  “Satan,” she said.

  The patrolmen looked at each other.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Greg said quickly. “There’s no one here but us.”

  She let them help her to her feet.

  “Are you hurt, ma’am?” Burt asked. “Can you walk?”

  “I can walk,” she said. They led her to the steps. Just as they reached the front door Lee pulled up. He charged out of his car and ran up the walk.

  “Jessie!” he cried, coming up behind them. She turned and threw her arms around his neck. Immediately she began to sob. He began to comfort her by kissing her forehead and cheeks and stroking her hair.

  “We found her outside, lying on the lawn, sir,” Burt said. “She doesn’t appear seriously injured.”

  “Let’s go inside, Jess,” Lee coaxed gently. “Come on, honey. Inside.” He tried to pull her arms off his neck, but she wouldn’t relinquish her hold, so he scooped her up and carried her through the door. Greg opened their apartment door for him and Lee carried her to the sofa. Burt Peters surged forward and put the telephone back on the side table. After Lee lowered Jessie gently to the sofa, he sat down beside her and held her hand.

  “I’ll get a wet washcloth, sir,” Greg said.

  “Down the corridor on the right. Thanks.”

  “Maybe I should just look around a bit,” Burt suggested. Lee nodded.

  “Jessie,” he said. She looked unconscious. Finally her head turned and she took a deep breath. “It’s all right now, honey. It’s okay. Tell me what happened, Jess.”

  Greg Daniels returned with the washcloth and Lee wiped the grass stains and mud off her face. Then he folded the cloth and placed it over her forehead. She seemed revived.

  “Nothing looks unusual in the apartment,” Burt reported. “No windows broken, nothing messed up.”

  Lee nodded and turned back to Jessie.

  “Honey, the police are here with us. Tell them what happened.”

  “Dr. Beezly,” she muttered.

  “Yes? What about Dr. Beezly, Jess?”

  “He turned into…he is the most horrible, ugly…” She brought her hands to her face.

  “Dr. Beezly?” Burt Peters exclaimed. He looked at Greg Daniels, who shook his head in disbelief.

  “Maybe I should phone the doctor and see what happened,” Lee suggested. “He was supposed to visit her today and examine her eyes.”

  “Good idea,” Burt replied.

  “I’ve got his phone number here,” Greg said, and pulled a small pad out of his back pocket. He flipped it open and showed Lee the number.

  “Thanks.” Lee lifted the receiver and punched out the numbers. Dr. Beezly answered the phone himself. Where was his receptionist? Lee wondered.

  “Doctor’s office,” he said.

  “Dr. Beezly, it’s Lee Overstreet.”

  “Oh, hello, how are you? I was going to phone you later when I knew you would be home.”

  “The police and I are with Jessie now,” Lee said quickly.

  “The police?”

  “Yes. She’s hysterical; she claims she was almost raped.”

  “Oh no. I’ll be right there. Give her some warm tea and try to keep her calm.”

  “But, Doctor, she—”

  “I’m on my way,” the doctor said, and hung up. Lee turned to the police.

  “He’s coming over,” he said.

  “NOO!” Jessie cried. “I don’t want him here. NOO!”

  “Easy, Jess. Why are you blaming the doctor? What did he do?”

  “He turned into him!” she cried.

  “Into him? Who?”

  “Satan,” she repeated.

  “Satan? You mean, the devil tried to rape you?” he asked, unable to cloak his amazement.

  “Yes, yes.” She nodded emphatically. Lee looked up at the patrolman.

  “Just rest here a few moments, Jess. I’ll put up some water for tea. You should get something warm in you.” He started to get up, but she reached out to seize his wrist.

  “Don’t let him near me again, Lee,” she pleaded. “Please.”

  “No one will come near you, Jess. I promise. There are two big, strapping policemen standing right here.”

  “That’s right, ma’am,” Greg said. “No one’s gonna hurt you now.”

  Jessie relaxed, and Lee pulled away gently and stood up.

  “I’ll just get you some tea,” he repeated. Burt Peters nodded to indicate they would stay by her side. Lee hurried into the kitchen to put up the water. By the time he returned with the cup on a tray, Jessie had drifted into sleep.

  “Maybe you just oughta let her rest,” Burt suggested. Just then they heard Dr. Beezly pull into the driveway.

  “Let’s talk to him,” Lee said, and put the tray on the table. They greeted the doctor on the porch.

  “What happened here?” he asked.

  “I phoned Jessie and she was hysterical, claiming she had almost been raped. Said, in fact, that she might have been. She wasn’t sure.”

  “Oh boy.” Dr. Beezly nodded at the policemen, who nodded back.

  “I phoned the police immediately and started for home.”

  “We found her right out here, facedown in the grass.”

  “It’s my fault,” Dr. Beezly said. “I should never have left her alone afterward.”

  “What happened?” Lee demanded.

  “I examined her and we talked and I told her I was afraid there was nothing I could do to help her regain her sight.”

  “We shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up in the first place,” Lee chastised. Dr. Beezly nodded.

  “You’re right, Lee. It’s mostly my fault, my damn arrogance. It’s just that somet
imes even the best of our profession miss things or misjudge things. And sometimes people’s conditions change and there’s room for a new evaluation or treatment.

  “Anyway,” he continued, “she did take it badly. I tried letting her down carefully, but she is a very perceptive and intelligent woman and saw right through my euphemisms. There’s no fooling Jessie.”

  “That’s for sure,” Lee said.

  “I thought she would be all right, even though she began relating some of these hallucinations she’s been having lately…hearing someone digging up coffins, strange footsteps in the night, laughter in the wind…I was going to tell you that I wanted to prescribe some tranquilizers for a while.”

  “Might not be a bad idea,” Lee said, nodding. “Those hallucinations have been getting worse and worse.”

  “Yes. When I left her, I thought she would be all right until you returned at least. She was calmer, but it’s hard to tell what’s going on in the mind of someone like Jessie. How’s she doing now?”

  “She’s fallen asleep on the couch,” Lee said.

  “She didn’t hurt herself in any way, did she? I’d feel just terrible…”

  “No. Just a few minor scrapes,” Lee said.

  “I could look at her,” Dr. Beezly suggested, and turned toward the doorway.

  “No, I don’t think you should go in there just yet. She might go right back into it.”

  Dr. Beezly looked surprised.

  “Did she say something bad about me? Am I part of her hallucinations now?”

  “She said you turned into a creature and that creature tried to rape her,” Lee reported.

  “Oh my.” Dr. Beezly shook his head. “I am sorry. Probably because I was the last one to see her before she went into it,” he mused aloud. He dug into his jacket pocket and produced a bottle of pills. “These are some mild tranquilizers. They will keep her calm and relaxed until she passes through this hysteria. Give her one every four hours, four times a day. If she has a particularly bad night, you can give her one during the night,” he added.

  Lee took the pills.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “I’m really sorry I left her alone. I should have realized,” the doctor repeated, and shook his head.

  “I don’t suppose anyone could anticipate something like this,” Lee said.

  “I’ll see her as soon as you think it will be okay to do so,” Dr. Beezly offered.

  “Thank you, Doctor.” After shaking the doctor’s hand, Lee and the two policemen watched him go back to his car.

  “He feels real bad,” Greg said.

  “Dr. Beezly hates to lose a patient or make mistakes. That’s for sure,” Burt said.

  “Can’t imagine anyone calling him Satan,” Greg said, shaking his head. Dr. Beezly waved and drove off.

  “No,” Burt agreed. “Funny, though,” he added just before Lee began to turn back to the house.

  “What is?” Lee asked.

  “That night we came by to pick up Tony Benson when he fell out of his truck drunk…”

  “Yes?”

  “He claimed he had come to kill Satan. That’s what he was mumbling.”

  “He came here? To kill Satan?” Lee asked.

  “That’s what he was saying.”

  “The man was dead drunk,” Greg said. “How can you even repeat what he said?”

  Burt shrugged.

  “He mentioned it to a few people before he came here,” Burt said. “I was just thinking that maybe someone said something to your wife and planted it in her mind.”

  “I don’t know,” Lee said. “Maybe.”

  “Sorry you had some trouble, Mr. Overstreet,” Greg said. “But we’re glad it wasn’t anything more serious.”

  “Yes, thanks. I appreciate how fast you two responded,” Lee added, and they started away. Lee looked out toward the cemetery for a moment and then hurried in to care for Jessie.

  She was a great deal calmer after she awoke again. Lee reheated the tea and spoon-fed her a cup. Her emotional episode had left her quite exhausted, however, and he let her remain on the sofa. He sat by her side while she dozed on and off. Whenever she woke, she did so with a jerk and he had to reassure her he was at her side and everything was all right. He made her another cup of tea and some toast and jam and tried to get her to eat a little, but she claimed she was still too nervous to hold anything down. All she would do was sip tea. He fingered the bottle of tranquilizers in his pocket and wondered how he would get her to take any. He would have to sneak them into her food for a while, he thought. She became terrified again when he told her Dr. Beezly had returned and had spoken to him and the police.

  “Just relax, Jess. He’s gone. Now just take your time and tell me again what you think happened. He came to examine you, right?”

  “Yes,” she said, pulling herself into a sitting position. She swallowed some tea and continued. “I came out here to wait for him, to listen for his car, only I never heard him drive up. Suddenly he was at the door. It was as if he had been here all the time.”

  “Maybe he had come earlier, Jess. Maybe he was upstairs with Mr. Carter.”

  Her face froze, her arm stiffening so that the cup remained a few inches from her lips, and she nodded, a smile of realization forming.

  “Yes,” she said in a whisper. “That’s it. That’s why I hear the shuffling sound. He is often upstairs with Mr. Carter. Don’t you see, Lee?”

  “See what, Jess? What are you talking about?”

  “He and Mr. Carter…they’re doing something in the graveyard…digging up graves.”

  “Oh, come on, Jess. Listen to me. Listen to me!” he demanded, seizing her free hand. “Dr. Beezly was here. He examined you, right?”

  “He started to.”

  “And he saw there was nothing he could do for you, and when he told you so, you became upset, right? Isn’t that true, Jess?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I never really believed he could do anything. You knew that.”

  “I’m sure you hoped, Jess. You had to have hoped. It would only be natural. Jess, you’ve been having many hallucinations. This isn’t the first time.”

  “Hallucinations? You don’t believe me? You don’t believe he tried to rape me!”

  “Jess…”

  “You don’t!” she screamed, and put the cup down quickly. Then she got off the sofa.

  “Jess…”

  “No,” she said, holding her hand out to keep him away. “You believe him. They’ve gotten to you. You’ve done something,” she said in a cold whisper, “and they’ve gotten to you.”

  “Jess, please…”

  “Keep away from me, Lee. You believe him. You do,” she said, shaking her head and backing up. She turned and made her way out of the living room and down the corridor toward the bedroom.

  Lee lowered his head. What was he going to do? She was out of control. All this had gone too far. He checked the time. He either had to call the school and have his basketball practice cancelled or get someone to stay with Jessie. Their next game was tomorrow night. Damn bad time for all this to happen, he thought. Not that there would have ever been a good time. He decided to try Tracy Baker. He didn’t have to go too far into an explanation before she understood.

  “I’ll be right there, Lee. It’s no problem, really.”

  “Thanks, Tracy. I appreciate it.”

  “Don’t worry. She’s going to be all right,” Tracy assured him. After he spoke to her, he went to the bedroom and looked in on Jessie. She was lying down, her hand on her forehead.

  “Honey,” he began, “I’m sorry. You have to appreciate how hard it is for anyone to believe your story. You’re an intelligent woman. You can see that, can’t you?”

  “Yes,” she said, but she sounded defeated. “It’s all right, Lee. I’ll be all right.”

  “Sure you will.” He sat on the bed and took her hand into his. He patted it reassuringly. “Once we move out of here and—”

  �
��It won’t matter where we go in this town anymore, Lee. He knows I know. I resisted him. I realize that now. Do you know what he offered me? He offered me restored sight,” she said.

  He stared down at her. That made sense; it made perfect sense she would hallucinate such a thing.

  “That was the deal for me not exposing him—restored sight.”

  “How can you expose him, Jess?”

  “I’m the only one here who can see him, see who he truly is. I don’t know why. It’s just something that happened, some power I gained. The voices I hear are not imaginary, Lee.” She turned her head toward him. “They’re the voices of the dead. I heard them the first night we moved in here and I’ve heard them on and off ever since.”

  “All right, Jess,” he said, relenting. “Suppose I believe you. What are the devil and Mr. Carter doing? What does it have to do with the digging up of graves? And people dying and being reborn?”

  She was silent, thinking. He shook his head and started to get up when she reached out to seize his hand.

  “He’s bringing them back,” she said.

  “Bringing them back? Bringing who back?”

  “The evil souls.”

  Despite his skepticism, Lee felt the back of his neck grow cold and that chill spread quickly down his spine.

  “He’s resurrecting them,” she said in a whisper. “He’s finding them new bodies and resurrecting them.” Still holding on to his hand, she pulled herself into a sitting position. “That’s why Marjorie was so different. Don’t you see?”

  “Jess.”

  “And why the real Marjorie told me not to let them bring you back once you died. Marjorie had found out, too, so they arranged the accident. That’s it; it makes sense. Now you believe me,” she said quickly. “Now you understand, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know. It’s a very frightening idea.” Maybe it’s best to placate her, to humor her at this point, he thought. Later, when this passes, she will come to her senses.

  “Of course it is, Lee. Oh Lee,” she said, clutching his hand with her other hand, too. “Let’s get out of here. Tonight. Let’s just pack up and go. Please.”

  “Take it easy; take it easy. Let me think,” he pleaded.

  “There’s no time to think, Lee.” She started to get out of bed. “I’ll start to pack.”