The Dunewalkers (Moving In Series Book 2)

by Ron Ripley

  “What’s your solution, Jeannette?” Sylvia asked, idly playing with a new, black ring on one of her fingers.

  “These friends of mine specialize in containing ghosts who will not be driven from this world. Some of the dead are far more violent than anything I have ever encountered.”

  “How did you meet?” Jenny asked.

  Jeannette smiled. “Through mutual friends.”

  “Where are they?” Brian asked. “Because I’d really like to get this done as soon as possible.”

  “Agreed, Brian,” Jeannette said, nodding. “Luckily they live here in Nashua, just behind Edgewood Cemetery. I doubt Leo knew this, but my friend’s mother was his neighbor. I am sure they would help.”

  “Well then,” Sylvia said with a tired smile, “I say you should call them, Jeanette. The sooner this bit of bad business is done the better.”

  “I will,” Jeannette said.

  “If I may,” Brian said. He looked at all of them. “As soon as we’re finished I still need to help William up in Wells. And by as soon as we’re finished I mean I need to be behind the wheel of the car and driving back to Maine.”

  Jenny reached out a hand and took hold of his. “We will, Babe. Don’t worry about it.”

  Brian nodded.

  “Well,” Jeannette said, “let’s call in some reinforcements.”

  She took her phone out, looked up Charles Gottesman’s number and called.

  “Hello?” Charles asked, answering after only a single ring.

  “Charles,” Jeannette said. “It’s Jeannette Marseille.”

  “Jeannette!” he said cheerfully. “How are you?”

  “I’m well, Charles. Thank you very much for asking. How are you and Ellen?”

  “Good, good,” he answered. “We just got back from Norwich, Connecticut last night. What can I do for you?”

  “I was wondering if I could impose upon you,” Jeannette said.

  “Sure. You have an object?”

  “Not yet,” Jeannette said. “But I will soon.”

  “Ah,” Charles said. “When are you doing the binding?”

  “I’m hoping to do so as soon you arrive,” she said. “I have an incantation to summon him. And we’ll have something he cannot resist.”

  Charles let out a grim chuckle. “Okay, Jeannette. Where are you?”

  “840 West Hollis Street, here in Nashua,” she replied.

  “840 West Hollis Street,” he repeated. “Alright. We’ll be there shortly. Bye now.”

  “Goodbye.” Jeannette ended the call and put her phone away.

  “Okay,” Brian said. “I have to ask. What can’t Paul resist.”

  She smiled at the worn, tired man. “You, Brian. He will not be able to resist you.”

  Chapter 49: In Leo’s Backyard

  “Are you okay?” Jenny asked.

  Brian looked at his wife. He wanted to lie, but he couldn’t.

  “Hell no,” he said, giving her a weak smile. He handed over his iron rings. He couldn’t accidentally send Leo packing. “I’m nervous. Scared. I really do not appreciate the concept of ‘bait’ right now.”

  He sat in an old rocking chair, in the cold, in an unused shed at the back of what was once Leo’s property. Jeannette stood in a dark corner to the left of the door. Around the interior of the shed, they had liberally lain down salt. Only the entrance remained free. Paul would be forced to pass through, if he wanted Brian.

  And again, Brian thought, this is a really terrible idea.

  He smiled at Jenny, and she gave him a quick kiss.

  “It will be over soon, Babe,” Jenny said, straightening up.

  I’m afraid of that, he almost said. “I know.”

  With a worried smile, Jenny left the shed.

  Brian was alone with Jeannette

  “You don’t have to be afraid,” Jeannette said in a low voice. “Hold onto the toy. I will call for Paul, and when he comes in, I will bind him to it. Charles and Ellen will take care of the rest.”

  Brian swallowed nervously as he glanced out the doorway of the shed. Jenny and Sylvia stood near the back out of site. On their right stood Charles and Ellen Gottesman. They looked as though they were a normal suburban couple. Reasonably fit and relatively attractive. Charles was Brian’s age, Ellen a bit younger.

  Both of them had hard lines around their eyes, though, and Brian had a suspicion they had dealt with ghosts worse than Paul.

  The couple had brought with them a small wooden box, and they wore white gloves. Ellen held the box, and Charles rubbed his fingers together anxiously. Jenny and Sylvia both stood with Ziploc bags of salt in their hands.

  “Are you ready?” Jeannette asked, interrupting Brian’s thoughts.

  “Of course not,” Brian said. “But let’s get it done.”

  “Yes,” Jeannette said. “Let’s get this done.”

  And she started to chant.

  Brian felt his pulse quicken as it kept in time with the rhythm of Jeannette’s words. The air in the shed grew heavier. The temperature plunged.

  Paul stood in the doorway.

  The boy wasn’t smiling.

  He didn’t say a word as he stepped in.

  Brian couldn’t look away from him.

  “I hate you,” Paul hissed and lunged for him.

  Chapter 50: The Snow is Deep

  “Oh Jesus,” Charles said.

  Paul stood in the doorway for the briefest of moments before rushing forward.

  Jenny and Sylvia started to run for the shed to seal Paul in with salt.

  But the door slammed closed, and a harsh wind threw them backward.

  Jenny collided with something soft, and she realized it was the woman Ellen.

  “No!” Sylvia screamed, and Jenny looked up.

  Florence stood above her friend, the dead woman’s hands locked in Sylvia’s long hair. Florence smiled at Jenny and then she started to drag Sylvia into the tree line on the edge of the lot.

  “Stop!” Jenny yelled, scrambling to her feet. “Stop!”

  Florence didn’t stop.

  She slipped into the trees as Sylvia thrashed.

  Jenny ran after them and plunged into the woods. The land dipped down to a small brook, and she saw Florence wade into it.

  Sylvia let out another scream as the thin ice broke beneath her.

  Florence turned to look at Jenny, and then she slowly sank down into the ice.

  Jenny watched, horrified, as Sylvia was pulled beneath the water. Her friend’s arms and legs flailed. Jenny ran to her, stumbled, and slammed into the ice and water.

  The cold liquid cut deep and instantly penetrated her bones. Jenny stifled a shriek and found Sylvia’s hair. She tried to rip it out of Florence’s grasp even as the ghost looked at her impassively from beneath the water.

  Jenny stopped trying to pull the hair away from Florence.

  She started to rip her friend’s hair out at the roots.

  Blood spread out and briefly obscured Sylvia’s bulging eyes.

  For every handful Jenny pulled out, the ghost shifted her grasp.

  The rings! Jenny thought desperately, and she pulled her gloves off of her hands. She threw the sodden things away from her and went to strike at Florence.

  Florence was gone. Yet before she had left, she had wrapped Sylvia’s long hair around submerged branches.

  Jenny wept as she tried to break the branches, to tear the hair free.

  Nothing worked.

  Sylvia drowned slowly before Jenny’s eyes.

  Chapter 51: In the Confines of the Shed

  Brian was blind, and Paul punched him repeatedly. His heart beat erratically and his breath came in short tight bursts.

  He held onto the toy soldier, strained to hear Jeannette and shuddered.

  He couldn’t hear anything.

  Something sharp dug painfully into the flesh of his triceps and squeezed. An agonizing pulse rippled through his brain. Light suddenly flooded his eyes. Brian blinked and rolled. He
saw the dirt floor, and he shrieked as something struck him in the back of his head.

  Chapter 52: Seeking an Exit

  Pure darkness fell over William, and a strange silence enveloped him.

  He was no longer cold. He could not hear the Abenaki warriors.

  “I know you’re here.”

  Kathleen’s voice filled the air.

  William started to sweat.

  “William.”

  He remained silent.

  “William!” The anger and concern in her voice shook him.

  Yet he still refused to respond. He was afraid of the Indians, of what it was they might do to him, but he didn’t want to be trapped in the house either.

  “William,” Kathleen said, and now a sense of urgency filled his name. “There are worse things here than the Abenaki.”

  William almost laughed.

  What could be worse than a gang of guys who literally want my scalp?

  “I can smell you.” The voice the words belonged to was horrifying. It grated against his ears and caused his limbs to shake.

  “Ah,” the voice chuckled, and William could not tell if it was male or female. “I can hear you now, too, man-child. Oh yes. Fear sets your limbs to shaking.”

  A long, slow sigh slipped around him. The sound of something being torn sounded off to his right.

  “William,” a voice whispered.

  It was Sarah.

  He tried to speak, but his throat was dry and clenched too tightly.

  “I know where you are,” she said.

  A cold hand stole out, caressed the side of his face, and then dropped to his shoulder. “Let me take you back.”

  William opened his mouth to say ‘no,’ but something latched onto his left foot and started to pull. An ungodly pain flashed through him, and William screamed, “Please!”

  And he was in the beach house, writhing on the floor in agony. He bit back another scream and pushed himself into a sitting position.

  Gasping for breath, he looked down at his feet in the firelight and fell backward. Dark lights swarmed over his vision as he struck the floor heavily.

  The last image in his mind was his left leg, and how it now ended at his knee.

  Chapter 53: Remaining Strong

  Jeannette witnessed the attack on Brian.

  She could not break the rhythm of the chant, though, or else all would be for nothing.

  Even when the door slammed closed and screams exploded into the air from beyond the shed walls, she didn’t stop.

  She had to bind Paul.

  As the dead boy took the bait and battered at Brian, she spoke the necessary words. She watched as Paul slipped in and out of form. She shuddered at the beating.

  The only way to stop it, was to bind the ghost.

  And so she did.

  When Paul finally realized what was happening, it was too late. Even as he spun to face her, his face contorted with fury, he started to be drawn backward. He opened his mouth, and his lips moved, but no words came out.

  Paul grew smaller and then he was gone.

  The door flew open, and Charles and Ellen rushed in. Ellen stopped by Brian and opened the wooden box as her husband dropped to his knees and snatched up the toy soldier. He quickly put it in the container and Ellen closed it.

  Charles stood up and took the chest from her. Ellen got down next to Brian, took his pulse and looked at Charles.

  “Call an ambulance,” Ellen said. “Call them now.”

  Charles nodded and took out his phone.

  Jeannette looked around for Sylvia and Jenny, but she didn’t see either one of them.

  Exhausted from the effort it took to cast the incantation, Jeannette slowly made her way out of the shed. She raised her hand to shield her eyes from the sun and stifled a gasp of surprise.

  Leo stood before her.

  He looked shocked.

  “Leo,” she said softly, “what’s wrong?”

  “She killed her,” Leo said. “She killed her.”

  “Who killed who?” Jeannette asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “She killed her,” Leo repeated. He looked up into Jeannette’s eyes. “I have no reason to stay.”

  Leo disappeared.

  From the edge of the lot, Jenny appeared. She staggered through the snow and pushed her way through a few trees. The woman was soaking wet, a hollow expression on her face.

  Jeannette hurried to her, Jenny’s lips a disturbing tinge of blue as her entire body shook.

  “Jenny,” Jeannette said, taking the younger woman into her arms. “Jenny, where’s Sylvia?”

  Jenny blinked several times and finally managed to focus on Jeannette. She mumbled something, but Jeannette understood.

  Jeannette looked around Jenny to the trees, at the broken branches on the young saplings and the wide path of disturbed snow.

  In the distance, the sharp, lonely siren of an ambulance sounded and echoed off of the gathered snow clouds.

  Chapter 54: Healthcare

  He kept his eyes closed and listened to the steady, soft noises the heart monitor made in the hospital room.

  Jenny was asleep in a chair, and Jeannette had gone home to her husband. The strange and quiet couple, the Gottesmans, had left as well. Paul, albeit unwillingly, went silently with them.

  Sylvia was dead.

  The police had questioned everyone there but her death, according to law enforcement, looked to be accidental. Somehow Sylvia had tripped, rolled down the slight ravine, crashed into the brook, and hit her head on a rock. She had been knocked unconscious and thus drowned as the water soaked her clothes, her attire, in turn, serving as a weight. Matters had been made worse by branches trapped beneath the thin ice. Sylvia’s hair had become entangled, an unfortunate quirk which had kept her face submerged. She may have been awake at the end, but the investigating detective had highly doubted it.

  Brian didn’t.

  Jenny had told him Sylvia had been awake. Fully aware of her impending death.

  Paul was captured. The price had been too high. They hadn’t considered Florence.

  Brian wanted to sleep.

  He couldn’t though. He still had to get to Maine.

  William was waiting for him. The young man needed help. Kathleen had trapped him in the house.

  Brian bit back a groan as he forced himself to sit up.

  The initial report from the ER doctor hadn’t been pleasant. Numerous cracked ribs, a torn tricep muscle, his nose was broken, and, at least, three teeth were loose.

  And, Brian sighed, let’s not forget the internal bleeding. ‘Significant rectal trauma.’

  Even through the haze of Vicodin, Brian could feel twinges of the pain.

  William, he told himself. William.

  “Brian?” Jenny asked, rubbing her eyes as she sat up. “How are you doing, Babe?”

  “Terrible,” Brian answered, opening his eyes. He chuckled, but it quickly turned into a grunt of pain. “I’ve got to be discharged, though.”

  Her eyes widened, and then they narrowed. “Babe, you can’t leave the hospital. You just had the hell kicked out of you.”

  “I need to help William,” Brian said. “He can’t leave the house. The ghost, Kathleen, she won’t let him go.”

  “It has to wait,” Jenny said firmly. “I’m not going to lose you.”

  “Jenny,” he started.

  “Babe,” she said, cutting him off, “this is non-negotiable.”

  Brian struggled to sit up, and something misfired in his chest.

  Jenny’s scream, mingled with the sudden, harsh alarm of the heart monitor chased him into darkness.

  Chapter 55: Alive and Unwell

  The wound had been cauterized.

  But not through any Herculean effort on William’s part. Whatever had taken the lower half of his left leg and jeans had done it neatly. Once, on a patrol in the Helmand Province in Afghanistan, William had seen a similar wound. The metal of the IED had been so hot, the blast so p
owerful, Staff Sergeant Ramirez’s wound had been instantly sealed. And it had saved the man’s life.

  And now the same type of wound had saved William’s.

  The pain, however, the pain was excruciating.

  Even through a haze of vodka William could feel it. His missing toes screamed in agony, and it felt as though his first foster mother was pounding on his absent shin with her favorite meat-tenderizer.

  In addition to all of the misery, Kathleen still kept him trapped in the house.

  The door, with the knob replaced, stood once more in its frame. All of the walls were pristine. The lights were on, a fire blazed cheerfully in the hearth, and William lay on the couch.

  Missing a leg.

  To make matters worse, and he chuckled drily at the idea of things getting worse, he was alone.

  Not even the ghosts were keeping him company.

  The stinking pullover, the musket, the knife, and the tomahawk he had taken from the Abenaki were gone. Vanished.

  Trophies of war, William thought, and he took another pull from the nearly empty bottle of vodka. He had another, smaller bottle, as well as some beer, but he suspected the pain would outlast his supply of alcohol.

  The lights flickered.

  A moment later they went out, and he was left with the fire as his sole source of illumination.

  “How are you bearing the pain?” Kathleen asked.

  William forced himself to sit up.

  She came around the couch and stood before him.

  “Dealing with it,” he answered after a moment.

  “Do you know what it was? The thing which took your leg?” she asked.

  “Is knowing going to bring back my leg?”

  “No,” she answered.

  “Then I don’t care.” He took another drink. He wanted another smoke, but he had finished the pack. If he hadn’t tossed the butts into the fire, he would have field stripped the tobacco from them and rolled his own.

  He grimaced and shifted his weight.

  “I will bring you into the garrison,” Kathleen said.