Dead End (Peri Jean Mace Ghost Thrillers Book 8)

by Catie Rhodes

  I glanced at Mysti, looking for guidance and comfort. My friend stood with her hands over her face, shaking all over. Hannah had pointed the pistol at Jugs again and began pulling the trigger onto the empty chambers. Ravens milled all over the parking lot. One lighted on the neck of one of the dead men and plucked out his eyeball. My stomach turned. The hag tried to goad me into vomiting. The push and pull of sensation and emotions had my head spinning. No wonder Hannah got like she did.

  Mohawk came running out of the office, waving his arms. “What the fuck are you people doing out here? Having a war? You’re going to pay for these damages.”

  I nudged Mysti. “Go start the car.” I went to get Hannah. She struggled when I tried to pull her away from Jugs’s body, but one hard jerk and the rage faded from her face. Her legs folded, and she began to bray big, ugly sobs. Dillon came to help me with her.

  “Did you hear me?” Mohawk rushed to my side, waving his long skinny arms around like a teenage girl at a boy band concert. “You’re going to pay for these damages.”

  I turned to stare at him. “Shut up and get away from me. You smell like snake.”

  Mohawk went still mid hand wave. His mouth dropped open. “You…”

  I pointed at the three corpses lying on the pavement. “I’m sure you can find a place to get rid of those.”

  Mohawk gaped as we dragged Hannah, whose body now vibrated, to Mysti’s car and shoved her inside. Mohawk didn’t try to stop me. We exchanged one glare as I got in on the passenger side. He was still watching as we sped out of the parking lot.

  16

  I watched the rearview mirrors as Mysti drove us back through Tyler, expecting to see flashing lights and hear sirens. We never did. Once we were safely out of town, passing acres and acres of farmland, I doubled up one fist and slammed it into my own thigh hard enough to hit a reflex and make the leg jump. The hag leapt with glee.

  “Don’t.” Mysti took one hand off the wheel to grab at me.

  “How could I not have known they were watching and waiting?” I hit myself again. This one was more the hag’s doing than mine, but I didn’t really disagree. “I deserve this for being stupid. They were going to kill us. And we were going to be lucky if that was all they did.” Anger heated me to the point of sweating. King had played me like a stupid little girl. And I fell for it.

  “Y’all, Hannah ain’t doing too good.” Dillon's voice came from the backseat. I twisted to peer over the back of my seat at Hannah. She stared out the window, eyes glazed, still shaking all over. Her lips moved in silent conversation with herself.

  I faced forward again to think. How could I trust myself to make a good decision now? This whole situation had slipped beyond my control. I’d thought I was doing so well dealing with my gifts and helping Cecil, but the way I’d handled all this proved I had a hell of a lot to learn. A clicking sound came from the backseat. I pulled down the visor and stared into the mirror. Hannah had quit talking to herself. The sound was her teeth chattering together.

  “Next chance you get, pull over.” I kept my voice low and gave Mysti a light tap. She nodded, changed lanes, and put on her blinker. A convenience store came up. Mysti swung into the parking lot and drove around the side where nobody could see us.

  I unbuckled my seatbelt and knelt on the seat facing backward. Hannah jittered, unaware of my attention, unaware of anything except her private misery. Ever since her attack, Wade and I had argued about her ability to get better. He’d maintained the position that she couldn’t. I’d told him he was wrong over and over. Now I’d been with her less than a day and was already terrified by the extent of her brokenness.

  “Use your magic to kill her. It’ll be a mercy killing. She’s miserable anyway.” The hag’s reasonable tone infuriated me. I tried to sting it but was too tired. It laughed at my effort, heaping self-doubt into my emotions by the double handful. I shook off the minor failure and turned my attention back to Hannah.

  She didn’t seem to know we’d stopped. Her head tracked movement we weren’t making. She’d start at the left, and her head would slowly track to the right. Then she’d go again. A low moan vibrated in her throat. Her hands clenched into fists and released.

  Helplessness froze me in my seat. All I could do was stare at my friend, deep sadness working its way through me. The hag shivered with pleasure.

  “Her circuits are probably overloaded. She’s been through so much in a few short months.” Mysti turned to watch Hannah too.

  Hannah’s moan got louder and louder until it was a scream. “Stop! You’re going to hit.”

  I realized she was looking at the highway in front of us. Cars sped past, none of them showing any signs of being about to wreck. The high whine of a motorcycle, one of the low slung sport bikes that Wade called crotch rockets, cut through the low roar of engines. The driver zipped onto the shoulder, whizzing past cars as though they were standing still. A brown SUV whipped onto the shoulder to turn into the convenience store where we sat.

  “Oh no,” Dillon muttered. “He can’t stop.”

  The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and the skin on my arms tightened into chill bumps. Time slowed down. It felt like I could get out of the car and tell the motorcycle rider to stop. But I couldn’t. It had been too late from the first moment I’d glimpsed him speeding down the shoulder.

  I tensed my body, anticipating the crash, but nothing prepared me for the awesome explosion of screaming metal. Nor was I prepared for the way the motorcycle rider’s body went airborne and flew a good twenty feet. He fell on his head. I don’t see how it was possible, but I heard the crack of his neck as it broke.

  The motorcycle rider’s ghost rose from his body. He shook off the wreck and ran for his ruined motorcycle, which still hugged the back of the SUV like a mashed bug. His arms went through the crumpled machinery again and again as he tried to pull it off the SUV. He hadn’t yet realized he was dead. He just thought he’d ruined his bike.

  I stared back at Hannah. She’d known, or seemed to. But how was that possible? Then I remembered what Mysti said about Hannah’s life force, how it had already started the transformation into death. Nerves clenched painfully in my stomach. Hannah couldn’t take another traumatic change. Worse? Having seen how she was, I didn’t think I could help.

  A horn blowing snapped me out of my thoughts. Traffic had stopped behind the wreck and started to back up. People climbed out of their vehicles. A man ran over to the motorcycle rider's body and checked the pulse. After a few seconds, he removed his hand, backed away, and got on his phone, likely calling emergency services. We had to get out of here.

  “Get going,” I said to Mysti.

  “But someone might need help.” She pressed her lips together, the way she got when she thought she’d seen an injustice.

  “The motorcycle rider is dead. His ghost’s over there trying to peel his bike off the back of that SUV. The people inside it are going to be okay, and he’s still going to be dead. There’s nobody we can help.” I settled my gaze on her face, hardened my voice to the one I used on the people in Sanctuary. “The cops’ll be here soon. You want them in your face?”

  “But Hannah…” Mysti trailed off and started the car. She had to angle around the growing traffic jam to get out. Some guy yelled at us as we got back on the road. Dillon gave him the finger. I started laughing. It poked at the ball of stress lodged in my chest, making it hurt worse, but I kept on until tears streamed down my face.

  Someone else’s laugh joined mine. It felt good to laugh with somebody, so I laughed harder. My sides hurt. My belly ached, but still I kept on laughing. Then I realized it was Hannah laughing with me.

  I turned to look at her and saw she was laughing and crying at the same time, tears flooding down her face. Dillon had pressed herself against the other side of the car. I unbuckled my seat belt, crawled in the back with Hannah, and put my arms around her. She struggled at first. I held her tighter.

  I hugged her and rocked her and st
roked her hair. Our laughter turned to weeping and faded away in hitched breaths and deep sighs. We finally let go of each other. Dillon stared on, eyes taking up most of her face. I shook my head to let her know I wasn’t about to have a breakdown. After I asked Hannah if she’d foreseen the wreck, I might wish I could escape, even if it meant losing touch with reality for a while. The hag basked in all the emotion, stretching toward it like a flower in the sun. That snapped me back into control.

  “You saw that crash before it happened.” I used the hem of my sweat jacket to wipe the last of the tears off my face.

  Hannah nodded, her mouth working. “I saw how Little Ricky was going to die too.”

  I frowned at the name.

  “The prospect who blew his hand off.” Hannah wiped at her face. “I saw it when we were back in the motel room. But I didn’t know why I was seeing it. Then as soon as he died, I saw myself shooting Jugs and you killing Holden.”

  “Death-warning. That’s what it’s called.” Mysti glanced in the rear view mirror. Tears streaked her cheeks. I wondered briefly what people saw as they passed this carload of crying women.

  “Did it start after your attack? Have you been seeing this stuff all along?” I hated to bring up Hannah’s time with Michael Gage, but if she’d been having these awful death visions the whole time, no wonder she hadn’t gotten any better.

  “No. Today. After I hanged myself.” She stared at her lap. “I was seeing stuff all the way to Tyler, but I thought it was just…the PTSD. Little Ricky was the first one where I realized what was happening.”

  More sadness sank deep into me. Hannah could see the death warnings because she’d died for a few seconds. I knew someone else that had happened to. He’d survived death only to wake with a psychic gift. It had driven him to madness and murder. I couldn’t let that happen to Hannah.

  Hannah pulled on her fingers, wringing them like she was milking a cow. “I’m sorry I did that. Hanged myself. I was just so mad at everything, and I didn’t want to deal with it anymore.” She gulped back another sob.

  “Tell her it’s too bad she didn’t succeed,” the hag crooned.

  “I’m not mad at you. Just scared for you.” I put my arm over her shoulders.

  “I saw your friend Chase while I was lying there on the floor with Mysti doing compressions.” Hannah hitched out a sob but got control again. “He said to tell you he’s proud of you. He’s the one who sent me back. He pushed me, and I woke up.”

  I hung my head. The pain of Chase’s loss still ached like a rotten tooth. Not a day went by that I didn’t see something I wanted to tell him about or make a joke only he would understand. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I swiped at them.

  Dillon handed me a tissue from the box Mysti kept. I passed it to Hannah. She gave me a grateful nod and mopped at her face.

  “Do you think Chase did the right thing? Sending you back?” I wanted her to say yes. I willed her to say the one little word. Because if she didn’t believe she could get better and keep on living, she couldn’t.

  She took a deep, trembling breath. “I don’t know.”

  We passed a huge pasture with a house on a hilltop overlooking it. Hannah pointed at the house. “The lady who lives there’ll die tonight. She’ll go outside and step in a hole. When she falls, she’ll come down on a rake that her son left outside.”

  My heart sank, and I allowed the truth to sink in. Hannah wouldn’t get better. Too much death, too much tragedy, too much sadness. She’d never be able to escape it. This new gift would haunt her until she took her own life.

  Dillon leaned forward until she could see Hannah. “I got this gift of persuasion. I can see if it’ll help you feel better. Only problem is, it wears off. But I might be able to give you a break when things get really bad.”

  Hannah nodded, focused on the seat in front of her. She didn’t look too enthusiastic.

  “And something like your being able to know when people are going to die could be great,” Dillon continued, talking too fast, trying too hard. “We could use it at Sanctuary.” She glanced at me for approval.

  I nodded without believing it. Dillon knew how much I wanted Hannah to find a way back to herself. We’d spent too much time going over my guilt and my hopes for her not to. She only wanted to help, no matter how misguided the effort.

  We drove through a tiny town and passed a nursing home. Hannah face stilled. “One person in the next hour.”

  Civilization petered out, leaving only stretches of farmland. Hannah watched it go by, her lips sometimes moving. Finally she turned to me. “You think maybe I’d have quit seeing people die if the Six Guns hadn’t followed us? And I hadn’t seen what was going to happen to Little Ricky? Or maybe if I hadn’t killed Jugs?”

  I shrugged. This game wasn’t worth the time or the effort it took to play. Shoulda, woulda, coulda never helped anybody. I glanced at Dillon. She tipped her head at Hannah. She wanted to try to persuade Hannah. I was too tired to think of why she shouldn’t. I'd been up more than twenty four hours and desperately needed more than a catnap.

  Dillon leaned over me and tapped Hannah. Once she got the other woman to look up, she caught her eyes and said, “This stuff about people dying is something you only know if you want to know. Even if it comes when you don’t want it, it don’t bother you none.”

  Hannah blinked twice. The tension around her eyes cleared a bit, and the lines bracketing her mouth relaxed.

  “Probably won’t last long.” Dillon sat back. “But I can do it again.”

  Hannah’s shoulders relaxed. She took a deep breath. “Thank you.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. I hoped she’d sleep long and dreamless, maybe let me take her to stay with Dean and his wife once we got back to Gaslight City. I didn’t want her to be part of this anymore.

  Dillon began tapping on her phone. She frowned. “Finn says he can’t get in touch with Papaw. Says he been trying the better part of an hour.”

  Tension coiled in my shoulders. I tried to play it off. “Cecil said he was going to take a nap when we left. He may have turned off his phone.”

  Dillon shrugged and sent that back to her husband.

  Hannah’s head snapped up, her eyes wide. “King attacked them. That’s why he wasn’t with the ones who came to get the tape. He went to rescue Corman.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I was so focused on my own drama, it didn’t even hit me. But that’s exactly what King would have done.”

  I whipped out my phone and tried Cecil. It went straight to voicemail. “Papaw,” I shouted into the phone, voice shaking. “Please call me if you get this. We’re worried about you.” I hung up and called Tubby. His phone went straight to voicemail too. I set the phone in my lap and rubbed my quaking stomach. The engine screamed as Mysti hammered down on the accelerator. We passed a sign that said Gaslight City was ten miles away. I ground my teeth. It was too far, and we were too late.

  “They’re dead, they’re dead, they’re dead,” the hag chanted.

  I hoped it wasn’t right.

  Mysti barreled through downtown Gaslight City with no care of the speed limit. She ran three stop signs but had to stop at a red light or hit crossing traffic. I scanned the quiet buildings and empty streets, a sick feeling spreading along my already frazzled nerve endings.

  I’m not sure what I expected to see. Maybe men wearing bandanas over the lower half of their faces, hands resting on gun belts. But nothing seemed amiss. Most of the businesses had closed for the day. Now that Dottie’s was closed, people who wanted to eat an evening meal out had to go to one of the new restaurants across town. Downtown was all but deserted.

  For some reason, that was worse. We passed Silver Dreams Antiques. The glass front door hung open, its windows shattered. King had been here. He’d busted in and done God knows what. My stomach cramped. For a second, I was sure I was about to blow chunks all over the backseat. Mysti slowed.

  “Don’t park out front. Go through the alley.” I leaned forward
, arms resting over the back of the front seat, spit flooding my mouth.

  Mysti obeyed. The alley parking lot was empty. The back door hung open too.

  Mysti stopped but didn’t park. “What do I do?”

  I wanted to scream at her that I didn’t know. Fear beat at my chest, begging me to lose control. But I no longer had luxuries like that. I calmed myself by pushing all the thoughts from my mind and letting my muscles relax. “Somebody might be in there waiting for us. Go to Bullfrog's. Park in the back.”

  Mysti took my directions through the back alleys, the space between some of the buildings so narrow there was barely an inch clearance between her Toyota sedan’s mirrors and the brick buildings. We came out in front of Bullfrog’s Billiards.

  I stared at the pool hall. Was anything wrong? Damn it all to hell, I wasn’t savvy enough to know. Wade or Tubby would have. But not me. The front door had been propped open with a cinderblock. Music blasted onto the cracked sidewalk. The usual garbage of crumpled beer cans and cigarette butts littered the curb. Only one way to find out. I nudged Hannah. “Let me out.”

  She took her time about opening the door and climbing out of the car. I crawled from the backseat, brushed down my jeans, and headed for the front door. Hannah stayed on my heels. I turned to her. “Go back to the car. Dillon will protect you. Tell her I said so. And tell her I said to run if it comes down to that.”

  Hannah's eyes widened with disbelief, then narrowed. They smoldered in irritation. “I don’t need your protection. The fucking worst already happened.”

  I took a step closer. “Cut the shit. I can’t protect you. I used my magic too much back in Tyler.”

  “I can take care of myself.” She pushed past me and continued toward the open front door.

  I hurried after her, but her legs were way longer than mine. She passed through the door and into the darkness. I ran to catch up and nearly plowed right into her back.

  “What do you mean I can’t come in here?” Hannah yelled into Bullfrog’s pockmarked face.