Chasing Ghosts

by Glenn Rolfe

  The spittle clung to his face, and the angry woodsman stalked off toward a hooded fire pit. Connor saw a tin shack standing on the other side.

  Sorry, Jack.

  The other one wrapped his ankles in barbed wire with the speed and skill of the rodeo riders he’d seen on TV in hog-tying competitions. The little bastard clipped the wire and lunged atop his chest with his devil’s lasso. He swung his fist and felt the barbs cut into his knuckles, then his wrist. The kid pulled his right arm, slammed him down to the ground, and flipped him on his stomach like he didn’t weigh nearly a hundred and seventy pounds. The wire dug in and tightened around his other wrist. His hands were drawn together, and then his feet were pulled back to join them.

  The savage kid pushed him onto his side. His feet and wrists were now bound together behind him and just above his waist.

  He remembered the adult saying to tie his mouth. The kid stood and stared down at him. His hair looked like a giant rat’s nest. His forehead bulged and covered his far apart eyes like a flesh awning. The fucker leered at him.

  He shook his head, but stopped when he realized that as bad as this could be, whipping his head around could make it exponentially so.

  He opened his mouth and felt the sharp twists dig into his already torn mouth.

  One thought hijacked his mind.

  I’m not making it out of this.

  ***

  “Hooper stop.”

  “What is it?”

  Walt shined his light to a sneaker by the tree to their left.

  “Lookie there.”

  Hooper’s light followed his. A trail of dark liquid led away from the shoe. The crimson path stretched as far as their lights could penetrate before being swallowed by the dark.

  Hooper closed in on the closest dark splatter and knelt beside it. “Chief, that’s blood.”

  “Hooper. Call the station. Tell Chris to send the Staties. We got us a murder out here. Maybe multiple.”

  As Hooper called it in, Walt drew his pistol and approached the shoe. He circled around. He held his breath. He knew he’d find something he didn’t want to find.

  “Je-sus.” He leaned around the tree.

  Hooper used the com on his shoulder to radio Chris at the station.

  “And tell ‘em we have at least one body.”

  “Chris, Chief says we have a victim.”

  “Tell him, white, male, mid-twenties, buck seventy-five.”

  Chris relayed the information.

  Walt crouched down. His back protested.

  The body of the young man sat leaned up against the tree. His face was caved in on one side. Walt looked at his feet. Two shoes.

  He shined the light to the sneaker by the tree. Too small to be a man’s.

  “He’s got a girl, possibly Melody Henderson.”

  Hooper reported the girl.

  “All set, Chief. Their sending cars right away.”

  Walt stood and stepped out onto the path. “Let’s move in.”

  Hooper stared at him like a lost little boy. “Chief?”

  “Dammit, Hooper, get your gun out, son.”

  Hooper drew his weapon.

  “Chief, don’t you think we should wait for back up?”

  “That girl ain’t got no time for back up. Now, sack up, get your goddam gun ready, and whatever the hell you do, don’t fuckin’ put a bullet in my ass. Come on.”

  Walt felt his back cry out. He’d left his aspirin in the truck.

  He hated these woods. Too many goddam surprises.

  Walt’s back was his only weakness. His eyes and ears were in good shape. Great actually, considering he’d hit the big 6-0 next month. Ellen, his on again off again fifty-three-year-old lady friend, told him he had the mind and body of a much younger man. He didn’t know about the body, hell, he had to take dick pills to get a good stiff one, but he was sharp as a razor’s edge when it came to his duties on the job.

  The blood trail thinned out at the turn in the path.

  He caught a whiff of raw meat. It was dampened by the wetness, but he smelled it.

  “You smell that?” he whispered.

  Their lights danced in the dark.

  “Come on. Slow.”

  He crept forward. His footsteps measured. His gaze scouring the trees and brush for the source of the odor.

  There was a small puddle of blood and gore in the center of the path.

  He aimed his flashlight above his head.

  Nothing.

  He expected to find a body strung up and gutted.

  “I don’t like this.”

  “Do you think it’s from the Henderson girl?”

  Walt thought of the cute little thing missing her insides.

  “The smell is too strong. There’s something else here.”

  He sniffed the air. He’d heard the boys at the station joke about him being part bloodhound. His nose hadn’t led him astray yet.

  “Over here.”

  The blood line started up again.

  “Dang, Chief.”

  “It splits.”

  There were two trails. The one that led farther down the path was faint. The other held a vision he’d not soon forget.

  “Oh my God,” Hooper said.

  Walt listened as Hooper tossed his cookies.

  The trails of bloody intestines led to the opened stomach of Melody Henderson.

  Walt wasn’t hardened enough to hold his own.

  After he finished, he wiped his mouth and nose with his sleeve.

  “That other trail means he’s either got some of her with him…” Walt stared into the shadows. “Or he’s got somebody else.”

  “The girl, that guy at the cabin.”

  “Yep. Said they hadn’t seen the band members. I’d guess the fella by the tree back there was one of ‘em.”

  “And we still ain’t found Mike.”

  He gazed at the girl one last time.

  He thought of the Cobb clan.

  Guilt scraped his soul. Deep as the river and undeniable.

  They were out here somewhere. They’d never left these woods.

  “Let’s get movin’.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Are you… alive?” Luke didn’t know how else to put it. He couldn’t see whoever it was in the dark, but he’d seen his captors bring the body in and heard the commotion outside directly afterwards. There were screams. He also heard them talking, but couldn’t make out what was being said or to whom.

  He thought he could hear the person in his room breathing, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up.

  “Hey.”

  He also didn’t want them to hear him, but to get a chance to talk to someone would be amazing.

  “Hey you.”

  “Urrhhh”

  Yes.

  “Hey, you all right?”

  “Ohhh… ahhhh. Wh-where am... my fuckin’ arm.”

  “My name’s Luke.”

  He thought about how to best explain their conditions.

  “We’re… somewhere in the woods.”

  “Ohhh, that fuckin’ bastard.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Ffffuck.”

  Luke waited.

  “Sorry, man, that motherfucker broke my elbow and my collarbone. My leg’s fucked, too.”

  “They’re probably right outside. You might want to–”

  “They? There’s more of them?”

  “Yeah, there’s at least two or three adults, and a couple kids.”

  Luke let the news settle.

  “Jack. My name’s Jack.”

  “Hey, Jack.”

  “How long… how long have you been here?”

  “Not sure. It’s almost always dark in here. Seems like they only ever come in from outside when it’s dark, too. Hard to track the days. Feels like… forever, but I’m guessing weeks. Two or three.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  “It is what it is. Are you from town?”

  “No. I’m from Po
rtland. My band was supposed to play at this cabin...”

  Luke listened to him try not to let out his pain.

  “This cabin out here in the fuckin’ sticks.”

  Luke thought he’d remembered Davey mentioning something about a cabin. They were supposed to check it out after Jesse showed them the creepy dead guy’s shack.

  “Do you know the place?” Jack said.

  “I–my friends…” It felt weird referring to them as such. He hadn’t known them all that long.

  “I’m actually pretty new to the area. I just moved here with my mom.”

  “You’re in the shit-luck biz, too.”

  “Yeah, I guess I am.”

  “Have you tried to get out?”

  “No. I’m hooked to the wall.”

  “Hooked? You mean like tied up?”

  “Just my ankles. Barb wire.”

  Jack moaned. He was trying to move.

  “Ahh, fuck that hurts.”

  Luke didn’t like his new roommate’s chances. He didn’t like a whole lot of things right now. He kept his feelings to himself. He didn’t want to get this guy anymore depressed. Or angry. If he started shouting, they’d probably send someone in to shut him up.

  “What kind of band is it?”

  “What? Oh, punk. Rancid, Bouncing Souls…”

  He didn’t recognize the names.

  “Cool. You guys any good?”

  “I like it.”

  Footsteps.

  “Oh no.”

  “What? What is it?”

  “Whatever you do, don’t ask them anything and don’t yell at them. Stay cool and quiet.”

  He hoped Jack would listen. He had a feeling he wouldn’t.

  The door lifted. Flames flickered. Luke wanted the warmth of the fire.

  One of the adults came through.

  “Don’t touch me. No… no...”

  He watched the big guy take Jack’s leg.

  “Arrgghhh!”

  He dragged Jack out.

  The door dropped.

  He was alone, but the silence had been shattered.

  ***

  “Now, you watch.”

  Connor heard Jack before he saw him. He was alive and screaming. His arm was fucked. He screamed and reached for his leg the big bastard dragged him by. The monster of man let go of Jack. He turned and knocked the hood from the fire. He kicked at the flames. He turned and stared at Connor as he gripped Jack’s ankle and then reached down for the other. Connor glimpsed between them. He caught the hideous grin cross the man’s warped features.

  He knew what was about to happen.

  And then it did.

  Jack’s back left the earth. He spun ninety degrees and landed in the center of the conflagration. His screams tore through the universe.

  Connor shut his eyes against this evil. He couldn’t move without the barbs sinking into him. He couldn’t call out because they were already sunken into the corners of his mouth.

  He cried.

  And he knew he was next.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ellen Sully arrived at the station to cover for Chris.

  “Go on, Christopher. You get out there before that fool does something stupid.”

  “Thanks, Ellen. You know Walt. He does it better–”

  “Than anyone else. Yes, don’t I know it?”

  “I’m coming with you,” Heather said. She’d be damned if he was leaving her behind. She’d had enough time to herself to wallow in the “is he all right, is he alive” game.

  “I’m afraid not, Heather. It’s far too–”

  “My husband’s out there. You’re not leaving without me.”

  Chris looked to Ellen.

  She dropped her purse and took off her overcoat and placed it over the back of the seat. She just shook her head.

  “Don’t look at me. I’d be demanding the same thing if I didn’t have to sit here.”

  Chris turned back to her.

  “All right, but you’re staying in the car.”

  She nodded. Like hell.

  “I’ll call–”

  “As soon as you know something. Now get to goin’, Christopher. Find my Walt and this young woman’s husband.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  She followed him through the door and out to his patrol car. He opened the passenger door and let her in. He closed the door, rushed around the front, and got in the driver’s side.

  He picked up the dash radio.

  “Elwell to Hooper, come in, over.”

  “Go ahead, Chris.”

  “I’m on my way out there. You guys with the Staties?”

  “No. We’re in pursuit–what was that?”

  She heard the Chief in the background.

  “Tell ‘em to get his ass out here. Come on.”

  “Gotta go. Hurry. Over”

  “Hooper? Ed?”

  There was no response.

  He hung up the mic, started the car, threw it in drive, and peeled out of the station parking lot.

  “What did he hear? What did they mean they’re in pursuit?”

  “I don’t know, but it doesn’t sound like they waited for back-up.”

  She didn’t like this. Her sour stomach told her Derek was in deep trouble.

  ***

  Walt led the way. They ran through the trees and toward the screams coming from the other side of the stream.

  “Officer Hooper here. Lieutenant Dunn, do you copy? Over?”

  “Dunn here.”

  “Chief Hanson and I are in hot pursuit here. Go down the path along the backside of the cabin. First victim is at a tree shortly after the start. About a mile in, it veers to the left. You’ll find the female victim there. The path heads down to the stream. We’ve crossed the stream and are pursing the suspect. There’s definitely another victim up ahead. Do you copy, over?”

  “Copy that. My men are with the bodies now. We’ve got your backs.”

  ***

  “I see him. He’s got something slung over his shoulder.” Walt aimed his gun and pushed harder. His back groaned. He aimed low, pulled the trigger, and fired off three shots. The suspect cried out and tumbled to the ground.

  “You got him.”

  “Let’s get up there before he can get back on his feet.”

  Walt pushed harder than he’d ever done in his thirty-five-years on the job. His legs burned. His throat and gums hurt. There was another body on the ground. It wasn’t moving. Most likely dead. He took aim at the monster rising and fired three more shots.

  The first missed. The second and third hit the suspect in the upper torso. He watched the man clutch his throat and stumble backwards.

  They caught up to the beastly woodsman.

  “Hold it right there.”

  Raspy breaths and grunts were all they got in return. Walt circled around. The man kept eye contact with him.

  Hooper held out his pistol and kept it on the suspect from the back angle.

  Walt glanced at the face on the ground.

  Mike Russell.

  “Hooper?”

  “Yeah, Chief?”

  “Keep your gun on this bastard.”

  “He moves and he’s dead.”

  Walt edged forward, his gaze shifted back and forth between the ugly monster and Mike. He knelt at Mike’s side.

  He reached to check for a pulse and saw the empty gaze staring off into the void.

  He rose and stared at the man from behind the sight on his pistol.

  “All right, mister. Put your hands up and keep ‘em up.”

  “Heh… uhhh… heh, heh…” The man broke into a coughing fit. Walt was grateful something stopped his sinister laugh.

  Blood dribbled down his cleft chin.

  He dropped to his knees and leaned forward. He coughed up more blood. His head swayed.

  Walt took three more steps. He was in reach.

  The big guy lunged forward and grabbed a pipe on the grou
nd.

  Gun fire exploded.

  Walt unleashed his remaining shots. Hooper also fired a number of shots.

  The man jerked with each direct hit and fell back.

  ***

  The gunshots rang through the night. Chimes of freedom. Or at least a chance at survival. Connor opened his eyes.

  “Go for the hills.” The woodsman grumbled to the young one.

  “No.”

  “Now!”

  “No.”

  He watched the giant clobber the son.

  “Go to the hills and hide. I will find you.”

  The young one picked himself up, and gazed out from under his heavy brow. First towards the path, and then to Connor. Connor smiled as best he could. The hatred seethed from the boy’s fire-filled stare. He took a step toward him.

  “No, leave him. I will finish this.”

  Now, it was the boy’s turn to smile.

  Connor wanted to roll into the shadows cast from the fire that stretched to the edge of the shitty little camp. He wanted to slither away. He was so close.

  The boy grabbed a knife and a hatchet from the stump by the fire.

  Jack’s body still popped and sizzled from the flames. His hands and feet jiggled every few seconds.

  The smell had been awful at first, but now smelled like cooked meat.

  The adult fetched his blood-stained pole and stepped to Connor’s side.

  Despite the pain it caused him to do so, Connor writhed and shook his head from side to side. The devil above him raised the weapon and swung it down with full force against his right arm. His upper arm snapped beneath the blow. The man brought the pipe up again and delivered a second, even harder, strike. This one connected with his shoulder.The barbs at his wrists, ankles, and mouth tore into his flesh. His entire body roared in excruciating torment.

  The woodsman tossed the pipe and picked Connor’s contorted, broken body off the ground.

  Every injury shrieked.

  ***

  Walt saw the stone slab in the middle of the path and the grisly legs that stood with it. Monsters. These things were inhuman. He could see a large shape, another one, by the blaze up ahead. A scrappy tent set off to the left.