JF Gonzalez - Back From The Dead.wps

by phuc

  It took most of the night. By the time they reached topsoil the sun was up, the birds were chirping and darting among the tall grass, snatching insects. From two miles away at a distant farm, a cock crowed. Five hundred yards down, water burbled in a stream. Candace and Billy did not hear any of this, nor did they need to as they dragged their dessicated bones out of the soil. The earth had preserved some of the tendons that glued their limbs together, as well as their surface skin, giving their corpses a dried, mummified appearance. The tattered remnants of the clothing they’d been buried in crumbled into dust around their feet as they turned their attention to the north.

  The presence that directed their movements was the main force that drove them forward, picking their way through the forest. But within the memory of their essence were those that had done them harm. It burned deep in their memories, giving the dark spirit a focus. A sense of direction on where to spread itself. It pushed its two new vessels forward, working at what it was called forth to do.

  The spirits of Billy and Candace cared not one whit about what the dark force wanted. They had their own agendas.

  Revenge.

  And like a beacon in the night, Billy Thompson and Candace Drombowsky shambled their way through the woods, heading toward the Bradfield estate as if they’d known it was there all along.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Tim didn’t know what was going on beyond the confines of Brendan Hall, but when his parents arrived a little after seven-thirty with Doug Fenner, his mother shot him a worried glance.

  As they filed into the interrogation room, Tim noticed his parents looked worried.

  Officer Clapton still had that look of fear on his face. Detective Andrews didn’t even look at him. Two other people joined them, a man and a woman dressed in business attire.

  They took seats across from Tim as Officer Clapton closed the door.

  His parents sat on either side of him with Doug on Dad’s right. Mom squeezed his hand. “Are you okay?”

  Tim managed a smile for her. “I’m okay.”

  Dad gave Tim a nod, then conferred with Doug in quiet tones for a moment as everybody settled in. Mom leaned close to Tim. “I know you’re scared honey, but Clapton is on our side. We had a talk with him in the hallway.”

  “You did?”

  Mom nodded. “We talked to him and Detective Andrews. They’re going to work on getting the warrant for your arrest revoked so we can get you out of here.”

  Tim was watching his dad and Doug Fenner talk among themselves in low tones.

  Dad nodded at something Doug said and caught Tim’s gaze. He smiled, gave him a thumbs up sign. Tim relaxed. The tension in the room, which had been unbearable a moment ago, suddenly eased.

  “Somebody needs to get out to Chelsea’s place,” Tim told his mother. “Gordon Smith threatened her.”

  Officer Clapton heard him. “When did Gordon threaten Chelsea?”

  “Last night. When you pulled us over he told me that if I told you anything about what was really happening, he would hurt her.”

  “And what’s really happening, Gordon?” Detective Andrews asked.

  All eyes centered on Tim.

  Tim felt his breath draw in, felt his nerves getting frayed the way they always did when all the attention was focused on him. He glanced around the conference table at the people assembled here–Mom, Dad, Doug Fenner, Officer Clapton and Detective Andrews and the two people Tim had never seen before. One of them was a slim, attractive woman dressed in a burgundy suit with dark hair pulled back from her face. She smiled at Tim.

  “Hi Tim, I’m Diane Keller with the District Attorney’s Office.” She reached across the table to shake his hand.

  Tim shook her hand as she introduced him to the man seated next to her, who was older with graying hair and a ruddy complexion. “This is Pat Brown, my associate.”

  Tim shook Pat’s hand and then Doug Fenner said, “We’ve all discussed your case prior to coming here to talk to you. We want to hear the truth of what happened, Tim.

  Like your mother said, your arrest warrant is going to be revoked this morning. You aren’t in any trouble.”

  “What about for any so-called future crimes Gordon and Scott decide to frame me for?” Tim asked.

  “The Lancaster County Prosecutor’s Office is well aware of the history of harassment leveled against you,” Diane said. “We’re already looking into filing criminal charges against Gordon Smith, Scott Bradfield and possibly others for making false statements to police and for filing false criminal charges against you.”

  Tim glanced at Doug Fenner, who nodded. “She’s correct,” he said. “Go ahead, Tim. You’re among people you can trust now.”

  Tim could feel that this was the truth. For the first time in years he felt things were finally turning his way. He glanced at each person in the room. Officer Clapton nodded at him, his features open and kind, ready to listen. Likewise, Detective Andrews had lost that hard-assed edge he’d possessed last night. And his parents didn’t look angry the way he thought they would.

  “Some of you are going to think this is pretty crazy,” Tim said.

  “After what I saw a few hours ago, I think I can believe anything,” Officer Clapton said.

  “John Elfman’s body parts moving around?” Tim asked him.

  “Yep.”

  The adults weren’t laughing at this. They appeared to be taking it quite seriously.

  “So he told you about that?” Tim asked them. “About John Elfman being found in pieces? And that his body parts were moving?”

  Nods all around the table. Even his parents nodded, their expressions grave. Diane said, “Yes, he did.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “What Officer Clapton saw was backed up by his partner and several other officers,” Pat Brown said. “I’m not inclined to disbelieve several credible witnesses at this point, especially in light of other events that have happened this morning.”

  “What else happened?” Tim asked.

  Detective Andrews cut in. “In a minute. For now, whatever you have to say, please tell us. It can’t be any crazier than some of the shit that’s been going on.”

  “Before I go any further, I need you to do something.” Tim turned to Officer Clapton. “Can you send somebody to Chelsea Brewer’s house to watch over her and her family?”

  Officer Clapton nodded and rose to his feet. “Give me her address.” Tim rattled off Chelsea’s address and phone number and Clapton exited the room. He returned a moment later. “Done. I’ve got a squad car heading there now.”

  Tim breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

  “How exactly did Gordon Smith threaten Chelsea?” Detective Andrews asked.

  “He said if I told you anything about what was really happening that he would kidnap her and feed her to the zombies in Scott Bradfield’s guesthouse.”

  Despite the weirdness of the threat, none of the adults in the room appeared taken aback by it. Only Pat Brown seemed surprised. He glanced at Diane, then turned to Tim.

  “Zombies?”

  “Please start at the beginning, Tim,” Diane urged.

  So Tim did, beginning with the day Gordon Smith approached him that afternoon at school about the novel he was reading, how he’d only seemed interested in the scene where the protagonist utilizes a black magic spell to raise the dead. He touched on some of his past history with Gordon, Steve, David, and Scott, then brought the narrative to the Reamstown Cemetery incident. “Gordon told me last night that he did rob that grave, but that he hadn’t intended to drop my book there. He said that was an accident.”

  “You don’t have to defend him,” Mom said.

  “I know.” Tim looked at the prosecutors. “Gordon told me he needed the remains for a ritual. That’s why he was so interested in my book. He and his friends have some weird idea that this novel, Back From the Dead, is real. That’s kinda what started this whole thing.” He gave them all a brief recount of that long ago
first assault when he was in sixth grade, how they’d equated his reading interest with who Tim was personally. As he talked, Diane frowned. Pat Brown gave a slight chuckle, his features displaying astonishment. “Anyway, he thought Back From the Dead was real. And he must’ve thought if he utilized the black magic formula that’s described in the novel for what he wanted to do, well…” He glanced at his mom, who nodded. “He said that he and…Scott and those guys…were involved in some pretty heavy stuff.”

  “What kind of heavy stuff?”

  Tim told them. About the trips to Philadelphia and Harrisburg to kidnap homeless people, how they were transported back to Scott’s house and tied up in the abandonded guesthouse on the property and beaten and tortured until they died. Mom and Dad looked surprised and shocked by these allegations, but the prosecutors and police weren’t. It almost seemed like they’d expected something that twisted to come from the mind of Scott Bradfield.

  It wasn’t until he got to the part about the spell being used to reanimate the dead homeless people so they could be put through more abuse that gasps of shock went around the table.

  “Gordon told you this last night?” Officer Clapton asked.

  “Yes sir,” Tim said. “I saw them, too.”

  “What do you mean you saw them?”

  Tim told them about Gordon’s visit to the house yesterday morning and his proposition, the blackmail attempt. As he related this, Mom and Dad became visibly angry. Mom turned to Officer Clapton. “So it’s okay for Gordon Smith, Scott Bradfield and the creeps they hang out with to threaten and psychologically abuse my son and get away with it, but the moment some religious nut gets a hair up their ass about a harmless horror novel he’s reading, you throw him in jail? Tell me what rationale you use to justify the actions of your department, Officer Clapton? I’d really like to know.”

  Officer Clapton didn’t acknowledge Mrs. Gaines verbal barb. His attention was focused on Tim and his testimony. “What was it Gordon told you? What did he threaten you with?”

  “He said if I didn’t help him get out of the situation Scott and the others were involved in, that he would plant evidence that I robbed that grave. He also said he’d make it hard for me to get out of it.”

  “Hard to get out of it?”

  Tim shrugged. “He…he made it sound like he had an in with you guys. With the police. You know, because of my reputation and all the shit that’s happened.” The words were tumbling out of his mouth now. “I can’t say I blame him. If I’d gone through life pushing a guy around that always got in trouble for fighting back, I’d think I could get away with it, too.”

  “Gordon convinced you that you wouldn’t be believed if you went to us?”

  Detective Andrews asked.

  Tim nodded. “Yes.”

  “How did he think you could help him?” Diane asked.

  “I think he’s afraid of being caught,” Tim said. “He told me that he didn’t want to get in trouble for participating in the crimes Scott and the others were committing, but he didn’t want to make it seem that he was formally getting out of it. If you ask me, I think he was scared to tell Scott that they were taking things too far. I think he just wanted to ease his way out of it and hope Scott and the others would eventually get bored and do something else. That’s what he wanted me to do. Find a way to make the spell not work, so Scott and others would lose interest in what they’re doing.”

  Mom muttered. “What could be possibly worse than what those cretins were doing?”

  “So he blackmailed you into helping him?” Diane prodded.

  “Yeah.” Tim drew forward in his chair, posture straight. “He told me about the spell, told me what they’d been doing, and he didn’t know how to stop it. He thinks I know how to end the spell, but of course I don’t. I tried telling him that, but he wouldn’t listen. He just said I had to come up with a way to end the spell or he’d make the police aware of the evidence, that he’d frame me for the grave robbery. And…well…” He shrugged and looked at his parents. “My folks and my friends, Al and George, they’ve been through enough because of their association with me anyway. I didn’t want to put them through any more. You know?”

  “Oh, honey,” Naomi hugged him. Dad patted him on the back.

  “So you felt compelled to help him?” Officer Clapton asked.

  “At first I didn’t believe him,” Tim said. “He told me he’d show me proof, so he took me over to the Bradfield place last night and showed me.”

  “And what did you see?” Diane asked.

  Tim told them how they’d snuck onto the property, how Gordon had instructed Tim to stand back while he’d opened the guesthouse door and shined a flashlight into the interior of the structure. He told them about the two things inside, chained and shackled up against the far wall. “They certainly looked like zombies. I guess.” Tim scratched his head. The five seconds or so he’d gazed into that house had seared itself into his memory but had also scarred him. “They looked dead, they were all messed up, covered in blood and one of them looked…I don’t know…kinda bloated and rotted, I guess.”

  Tim concluded the events by relating their drive through town, how he’d tried to come to grips with what he’d seen. “That’s when you pulled us over,” Tim said, nodding to Officer Clapton. “And that’s when Gordon threatened Chelsea. Said that if I told you any of this, if the cops even came around his house to talk to him about it, he’d make sure Chelsea was hurt.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Officer Clapton said. “She’ll be under protection.”

  “Her family, too,” Detective Andrews said.

  “So did they kill John Elfman?” Tim asked. He looked at Officer Clapton.

  “We don’t know that for sure,” Detective Andrews said.

  “When was the last time you saw John?” Officer Clapton asked Tim.

  “At Susan Zimmerman’s party a few nights ago,” Tim said. “I was there for a little bit with Chelsea, Matt, George, and Al. We didn’t stay long. I don’t think we barely spoke two words with John.”

  “Did you see Gordon and his friends hang out with John that night?”

  Tim thought about it. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember. He shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “Sorry. I didn’t even know he was missing until you told me he was dead.”

  There was a lull in Tim’s narrative for a moment. Diane and Pat conferred quietly with each other, then Pat whispered something to Detective Andrews. Officer Clapton tried to smile in encouragement at the Gaines family. Dad and their lawyer were talking quietly while Mom patted Tim’s hand. “Everything’s going to be okay,” she told him.

  Tim nodded and tried to feel better about everything. That was hard to do when he wasn’t entirely convinced Chelsea was safe and Gordon and his friends were in custody.

  “What happened this morning?” Tim asked.

  Detective Andrews nodded at Officer Clapton.

  “We have several people missing from a cul de sac near Zuck’s Woods,” Officer Clapton said. “One of the 911 calls said a neighbor was trying to break in to her house.

  When I arrived I made my way around the rear of the property and saw John lying on the ground. At first I didn’t know what I was looking at, but then I saw his arm. It was moving. Like something out of a horror movie. The hand was dragging itself along. Like this.” Clapton demonstrated by crab-walking his hand across the conference room table.

  “That’s when I made out it was a body and that the pieces…they were all moving. I didn’t know who it was at first until my partner shot the shit out of it and stopped it.”

  “So it was moving?” Tim asked.

  “It was trying to get me!” Officer Clapton’s voice was adamant. He fixed Tim with a stare that told him he was serious.

  “His partner can verify this,” Detective Andrews said. “I wouldn’t have believed it either if other officers didn’t see it.”

  “You don’t know what happened to these people?” Tim as
ked.

  “No, but it doesn’t look good,” Detective Andrews said.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “The State Police are investigating,” Diane said. “I’m sorry we can’t reveal more, but we’re trying to keep as tight a lid on this as we can. We don’t want to start any kind of panic.”

  “What the hell is going on?” The tone of Tim’s voice must have cut through the beauracracy because Diane and Pat started slightly. They glanced at each other and Pat nodded at Diane.

  “We believe the people missing have met with foul play,” Diane said. “Their residences are empty, in some cases there are signs of a struggle. The State Police are organizing searches in Zuck’s woods.”

  “Send somebody out to the Bradfield place,” Tim said. He could feel his heart racing with the urgency. “Do it now.”

  As if the law enforcement personnel present sensed his urgency, they all rose as one. Tim and his parents got up too, along with Doug Fenner. Detective Andrews exited the room while Officer Clapton addressed the Gaines family. “We’ll get a team of Detectives out to the Bradfield residence and we’ll have officers pick up Scott’s friends.”

  “If the State Police are searching Zuck’s Woods, they should look for places that appear to have been dug up recently,” Tim said. “Gordon said the area he held the ritual in was where he and his friends buried those homeless men.”

  Officer Clapton nodded. “We’ll get them. Don’t worry.”

  Pat stepped forward. “I think until we can formally have the arrest warrant withdrawn through the court, Tim should remain at Brendan Hall in protective custody.”

  Naomi looked like she was going to protest but Doug put his hand on her shoulder. “I’d like that withdrawal faxed to my office by noon.”

  “You got it,” Pat said.

  As they filed out of the interrogation room with his parents on either side of him, Detective Andrews said, “We’ll get a team out to the Bradfield residence and we’ll have Gordon, Steve, and David picked up and brought in for questioning. Don’t worry Mr. and Mrs. Gaines, we’ll get to the bottom of this.”