Chasing Ghosts

by Glenn Rolfe

  Her arms gave out and noose tightened. She was lifted off the ground onto her feet. The rope dropped from her neck. She stared into the face of her attacker.

  As she tried to scream, it came out more as a harsh sigh, and then she swayed with the trees. His smile peeled the flesh from her bones.

  His nose was crooked to the side like it had been broken once and healed the wrong way. His forehead jetted out over sunken black eyes. It smelled like he had a pile of dog shit in his mouth.

  “Uhhhh. Yesssss.”

  His tongue slobbered from his mouth. He reached out and took her shirt by the buttons.

  “No…”

  With both gloved hands he tore her shirt down the front.

  She stumbled backwards and kicked him in the crotch as hard as she could as she fell.

  “Uh…”

  He hunched forward, but did not topple over as she had hoped.

  “You, yyyyesss… ooohhhh.”

  She flipped over to her hands and knees and tore up handfuls of earth.

  His fist landed in the back of her head. Her arms folded beneath her. Her chin hit the dirt.

  He was on top of her. Hands snatched the waist of her stretch pants and ripped them down her thighs

  He grunted directly behind her ear. She felt him inside her. He huffed and moaned and slammed into her. Her face shoved into the cold, moist soil. Her cheek jammed against something sharp. She brought her arms up and tucked her hands under her face. Her fingers found the rock that grinded into the edge of her cheekbone. She dug it free as the monster driving into her climaxed.

  He drooled on the back of her neck as he climbed off. He stood. She couldn’t bring herself to try and stand, but she wouldn’t have to try anyway.

  The rope tightened again, and she was hauled up to her feet.

  She clung to the rock like it was her key to salvation.

  In a flash, she had a chance, and spun in a 180 and clobbered him in the side of the head with the rock.

  He stumbled sideways, let go of the rope, and brought one hand up to his temple. He staggered down to one knee.

  Her feet hit the ground. Adrenaline surged as she clutched the rock and charged him. His hand came up from his waist.

  She dropped the rock at the sudden pain in her stomach.

  “Heh, heh, heh, no, no, nooooo.”

  He pulled the blade from her guts and slammed it back in. He did this three times before the coppery taste of blood filled her mouth and dribbled over her trembling lips.

  “Heh, heh, heh. Heh, heh, heh.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  He reached the camp. The man barked at the two smaller ones. “Back! Back!”

  He saw the excitement glimmer in their spaced apart eyes from the fire that burned under their makeshift cover. He flung the body to the ground and snatched his closest kin.

  “Go to the others. Don’t kill them. Bring them.”

  “Ah, ah, yes.”

  He watched it grab the other. They ran up the bank and vanished in the trees.

  He lifted the body under the arms and dragged it past the first tent and back to the shed. He dropped the body, lifted the spike that locked the shed, and shoved the door up. The boy inside slept. He dragged the other body inside. The boy stirred. He saw the boy turn and look as he drew the door down. He replaced the spike in the slot and went to help the little ones with the two fools who dared follow him.

  ***

  Heather sat in her empty kitchen and tried Derek’s cell. It went directly to voicemail. She tried Mike’s next. His rang several times before the voicemail picked up. She dialed the bar.

  “Hole in the Wall, Joe here.”

  “Joe, its Heather Gerrard. Is Derek or Mike there?”

  “Hey, Heather. No, I’m afraid they ain’t.”

  She hesitated before asking for the next person.

  “Is Melody?”

  Now it was Joe’s turn to hesitate. Enough to tell her he knew.

  “Don’t worry, Joe. I already know.”

  “Ahh, sorry, Heather.”

  “She’s not there, is she?”

  “She left with Mike about an hour and a half ago. Derek didn’t call you?”

  “Derek? No, why? Oh my God, he called her.”

  “She said he sounded like he was in trouble. Something about chasing ghosts. Guess he was up near Cobb Road. They took off after him.”

  Her stomach squeezed her insides.

  “What kind of trouble was he in? Police?”

  “No, I don’t think so. Mel said his phone was cutting out but that it sounded to her like he said he was attacked.”

  “Did any of you think to call the police?” Now she was pissed.

  “Honestly, no. I wasn’t sure he was sober. He’s been a wreck since…well, since your boy.”

  “I figured he hurt himself, but that Mel and Mike would bring him home or wherever.”

  Cobb Road. Chasing ghosts….it sounded familiar, but she didn’t know why.

  “Give me Melody’s number.”

  There was silence from the other end.

  “Joe.”

  He did. She thanked him and hung up.

  She tried the cell. It rang five times before someone picked up.

  “Melody?”

  Something was breathing on the other end. It sounded like a big dog. But there was something human to it.

  “Hello?”

  She heard a loud grunt in her ear just before the call died.

  What in the hell?

  She redialed. It went straight to voicemail.

  She didn’t hesitate to call the police station.

  “Hello, Naples Police Department, Chris speakin’.”

  “Chris, this is Heather Gerrard. Is Walt in?”

  “Hey there, Heather. Nope, Walt’s gone home. What is it?”

  “It’s Derek. I’m worried he’s had an accident.”

  “Go on.”

  “He left on his bike earlier and now I can’t reach him. I tried Mike, too. Nothing. Joe from down at The Hole says he called there about an hour and a half ago. Said something about being out on Cobb Road and being attacked.”

  “Jesus, Heather. Why didn’t someone notify us sooner?”

  “I’m sorry, Chris. I just found out. I’m worried.”

  “I understand why.”

  “Can you please send someone out that way to check on him?”

  “It’s just me and Ed tonight. You say he said he was attacked?”

  “That’s what Joe told me he said.” She left the part about Derek’s recent rough times with the bottle out of it.

  “If there’s something out that way, I’d hate to send Ed by himself. He’s still pretty fresh. Let me call the Chief. I’ll see if he’ll meet Ed out there.”

  “Thank you, Chris.”

  “Of course.”

  “Do you mind if I come down to the station to wait. I have to get out of this fucking trailer or I’ll be climbing the walls.

  “Come on down. I just put a pot of coffee on.”

  She thanked him and hung up.

  She hurried down to her bedroom, dropped her housecoat to the floor, and picked out her bra, panties, socks, and jeans from her bureau. She picked up Jesse’s Misfits t-shirt from the hamper of clean clothes she never got around to folding and put it on. She grabbed her keys and her purse and headed out to her car.

  She arrived at the police station less than ten minutes later.

  Chris met her at the door.

  “Chief’s on his way out. You probably passed Ed on your way in the lot.”

  He handed her a Blue’s Clues mug.

  “It was a Father’s day gift from Jamey. She loves Blue’s Clues. She picked it out with Marie.”

  “I like it.”

  She wasn’t really thirsty, but she took a sip. The coffee was okay. She liked the warmth of the cup in her hands.

  “You can hang out in the Chief’s office. He’s got a TV set in there. Or you can hang out here with
me. I was watching a KISS DVD. Not sure if that’s your thing.” He was gazing at the large skull face painted on her t-shirt.

  “I like KISS just fine. Jesse’s the Misfits fan.”

  “Well, come on over.”

  He got her a chair. She sat down next to his desk.

  Her eyes landed on the smiling baby in the 5x7 frame at the center of his desk.

  He hit play on the remote.

  “That’s Jamey, two years ago.”

  She wiped the tears from her eyes.

  “I’m… I’m so sorry about Jesse.”

  She sniffled, forced another sip of the coffee, and stared at the photo.

  “He was beautiful.” She noticed she’d used the past tense. Was. It was the first time she’d done so since he didn’t come home.

  She set the coffee cup down and brought her hands to her face.

  “Aw, Heather, I’m so sorry.” He pushed back from his desk. “Come here, darlin’”

  She leaned over and buried her face in his chest.

  “All you’ve got right now is hope. Don’t let go just yet.”

  “He, he, he–he’s gone.”

  She couldn’t recall the last thing she’d said to him. She’d been at work when he left the house.

  “He’s gone.”

  Chris hugged her tighter. It felt nice. She let the tears come.

  “Good thing I brought an extra shirt tonight.”

  She would have laughed if she were capable.

  She picked her head up. He handed her the box of tissues.

  “Hm. Thank you.”

  He grabbed a tissue from the box and smiled. His cheeks were wet, too.

  “I’m gonna go to the ladies room.”

  “Right over there.”

  She dabbed at her eyes.

  “Thanks, Chris. Really.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She touched his forearm and went to the bathroom.

  Please be all right, Derek. I can’t lose you, too.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ed Hooper sat at the corner of Cobb Road as Walt pulled alongside him in his Ford pick-up.

  “You have a look yet, Ed?” Walt said.

  “Took a drive down to the Marston place and back. Nothing outta the ordinary along the road, but I did find the motorcycle at Marston’s cabin. He’s gonna die when he sees what kind of creeps he rented out to.”

  Walt threw two aspirin in his mouth. His back always ached worse when it rained. He never cared for traversing out this way unless there was no other option. Too much negative attached to the area for his liking.

  “You say Gerrard’s bike is there?”

  “Yep.”

  “Let’s start there.”

  Walt didn’t wait for his patrolman to respond. He let off the brake and headed for the Marston cabin. He searched the tree line for signs of anything out of place.

  He couldn’t help but think of Zachariah Cobb and that inbred family of his.

  There’d been a whole clan of the mentals up here when Walt was a teenager. Apparently, they moved. Migrated, actually, seemed a better term. He remembered his father telling him the family was like a people lost in time. Indigenous. They refused to or didn’t care to assimilate into the rest of the community. He didn’t think they cared too much for civilization, period.

  He hadn’t thought of the clan since…since the boy with the hollow eyes had come down crying about the monsters that tore up his daddy.

  Migrated.

  Where were they now?

  The Marston cabin came into view. Walt pulled his pick up to the side of the road. Hooper pulled behind him.

  Walt tossed two more aspirin down the hatch and checked his service pistol. A lot of old-timers carried their private pieces. He didn’t have anything against modern weapons. He slid the gun back in its holster and climbed out of the truck.

  Hooper joined him.

  Walt pointed to the Grand Am. “That’s Mike Russell’s car.”

  “Why are they out here?”

  “Not sure. According to Chris, Gerrard’s wife was looking for all three of them. Looks like they’re all here. Must be some party.”

  Hooper started to laugh, but stopped as Walt started toward the driveway.

  “Wait, you said three? Who else are we looking for?”

  “Melody Henderson. Waitress from Joe’s place. She’s sleeping with Gerrard.”

  “Oh.”

  “Looks like their party’s still going strong.”

  There were two people pressed against one another on the rail of the porch.

  “Hey, ’scuse us, folks.”

  They were two fellas.

  Je-sus.

  “Hate to break up whatever the hell you were doin’ there, but we need the person whose rentin’ this place. Know where we can find him?”

  They both smiled. “Try inside.”

  “Real helpful. Thanks, son.”

  They giggled.

  “What the hell are we walkin’ into, Chief?”

  “That’s not our main concern, Hooper. Just keep your eyes open for Gerrard and the others.

  Walt didn’t bother knocking. The awful music would probably drown him out. He pushed the already open door.

  There were only a handful of people still bopping around. Most of the cast of loud hippies were lined up on their asses smoking reefer or working on beers.

  The ones that noticed the two patrolmen enter straightened up.

  Walt held a hand out. “Excuse me, folks. Hate to bust in like this.”

  A scraggly shirtless guy with a beard hopped up and greeted them.

  “Hey, officers. I’m Craig, I’m renting the place.”

  Walt shook his hand.

  “Hello, Craig. We’re not here to disturb your little commune. We’re looking for some folks.”

  “Well, there’s been a lot of people in and out of here tonight.”

  “Two older guys, mid-forties, and a younger girl with one of them in her early twenties, a nice lookin’ brunette.”

  “Oh, shit, the guy on the bike.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yeah, he was… he was here. Sorry, man, it’s been a great party. Course my band crapped out on me.”

  “Care if we look around the property?”

  “They’re out in the woods.”

  “Miss?” Walt said.

  He stared at the frail girl in the mini-skirt with curly brown hair. Might have had a chance at bein’ pretty had she not fell in with this group.

  “All three of them and the guys from the band.”

  Her eyes were barely open. This one was minutes from passing out.

  “Did you happen to see which way they went?” Hooper said.

  “Out back. Trail.”

  “Thank you, Miss. Come on, Hooper. Looks like we’re goin’ for a hike.”

  ***

  “Connor!”

  Derek watched as the first shadow lunged from the tree and into Connor’s side.

  A second shape dropped at his feet. He felt his shins explode like he’d jumped off a rock ledge and his legs didn’t make it into the water. He fell over the top of the thing before him. His feet stayed in the dirt as the rest of him from the knees up continued to the ground.

  His screams ripped through the night.

  ***

  Connor felt the knife plunge in and out of his thigh. He managed to grab the small attacker’s wrist. He spun over the compact, wiry body. He wrenched the wrist as hard as he could and heard the snap of bone.

  The thing’s screech joined Derek’s. He didn’t take the time to assess his leg or his cohort’s fate. He saw the knife, a hunting knife, on the ground. He snatched it up, but felt the teeth latch into his left forearm.

  “Motherfucker!”

  He clutched the handle of the knife, swung the blade, and drove it into the side of the little monster’s head. Its eyes died instantly and the body followed.

  “Arrrrgggh!” Connor held his forearm and turned to D
erek’s horrendous wails.

  Derek pounded his fists on the ground. Connor could see bones standing up behind the slab of stone or rock that the rest of his body was flopped over.

  “Oh, fucking Christ.”

  He limped over to help when he heard the whip of something coming at him. A millisecond later, he felt the pipe collide with his head just behind his ear.

  He twirled and hit the ground. The night spun. Sparks flew. The world was carried away on a wave of buzzing voices, brought back, and pulled out again.

  He closed his eyes. He opened them as he was dragged behind the big grunting bastard he’d originally been chasing.

  He faced the path they’d come in on. He could see the stone slab and the bones standing behind it. The rest of Derek was gone.

  The little one he’d killed was missing, as well.

  He wasn’t sure how long he’d been out. Not too long, it was still dark out.

  “Get the wire.” A voice, caked in mud and filtered through broken glass, commanded.

  He saw another smaller one, a child? Were they children? He watched as it went to a chest, lifted the top, and scrounged inside. He, a boy, came back with what looked like weathered barbed wire stolen from some old farm.

  “Wrap its hands and feet…and its mouth.”

  “Oohh, ooohh, yes, yessss.”

  “Wait, wait…” Connor said.

  The big bastard kicked him in the face. He felt his lip split. He sucked in a breath. Blood hit the back of his throat. His mouth filled with the coppery taste.

  The beast of a man came face-to-face with him. The stench of trash left to the summer sun burned his nostrils.

  “You killed Marta.”

  He didn’t dare respond.

  “My kin. You. Will. Know. Pain.”