Dead Series (Book 3): A Little More Alive

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Dead Series (Book 3): A Little More Alive Page 18

by Sean Thomas Fisher


  Rory looked up from his cellphone. “What do you mean?”

  “After we unloaded your U-Haul yesterday, I ran into her at Nate’s.”

  “Seriously?”

  “You should’ve seen the look on her face when I told her you were back in town.”

  “I told you!” Laura popped a Lean Pocket into the microwave and Rory cast a sideways look her direction.

  “What’d she say?”

  “What didn’t she say? It was like twenty-questions and here I was all sweaty and beat and just wanting to grab a frozen pizza and a six-pack real quick.”

  “So what did she say?”

  “She was all like, How long is he going to be back? Is Danielle with him? How’s he doing?”

  Rory’s eyes bulged from their sockets. “What! How does she even know about Danielle?”

  Woody shrugged. “Not from me. She must be stalking you on Facebook.”

  “So what’d you tell her? Did you tell her we broke up? Please tell me you didn’t tell her we broke up.”

  Woody leaned back and got quiet, shoe wagging faster across his knee.

  “Woody!”

  “What was I supposed to say? It came up in the course of natural conversation.”

  Rory’s eyes thinned. “How?”

  “She asked if Danielle was with you and I said you broke up.”

  Laura laughed out loud and set a plate on the island.

  Rory rubbed his face and grumbled under his breath. “You could’ve at least left that part out.”

  “Sorry man, it just slipped but it brought a glimmer to her eye.”

  Pulling his hands away, Rory’s eyebrows dipped. “What kind of glimmer?”

  “The good kind, which is why it’s crucial you come tonight.”

  Letting his gaze wander out the French doors, he tried convincing himself that ship had sailed. He wouldn’t give Rachel the chance to pull the football out from under him again. That was the last thing he needed right now. Right now he was better off figuring out how to get back on his feet, regardless of how terminally hopeless that seemed at the moment.

  “Just no cellphones; that’s the new rule. Not even in the car ride out there.”

  Rory’s eyes snapped to Woody and thinned. “What now?”

  “I know it sounds crazy, but you actually have to talk to people face to face out there. It’s called the art of conversation, which is a dying breed.”

  He stared at Woody with his jaw dangling. “Are you insane?”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “Speak for yourself. I have nomophobia!”

  Woody bent an eyebrow. “Nomo-what?”

  Rory shoved his phone out to him. “Nineteen people have commented on my blog post over the last two days.”

  “Nineteen? That’s it?”

  “These people are counting on me!”

  Laura chuckled as the microwave beeped. “I think you’ll manage for one night,” she said, taking her food out. “Besides, if some masked man with a knife shows up, just think how much more of a challenge it’ll be without phones.”

  Woody’s face fell. “Wow, that’s really dark, Mrs. C. Maybe I should bring a gun instead.”

  Rory snorted and returned to his cereal. “Don’t forget you’re talking to the woman who picked the house right across the street from a funeral home.”

  She pursed her lips. “Allan’s is a Victorian landmark and, besides, the dead don’t bite, Rory.”

  Smiling, Woody’s gaze lowered to the cellphone in his hands. “There’s not much reception out at the lake anyway, but that’s the new rule.”

  “Who’s new rule?”

  “The girls, and don’t even think about breaking it. Two weeks ago, Kate caught Cliff with his phone in his tent and he woke up to find it soaking in a cup of beer.”

  Rory spooned some soggy cereal into his mouth, flipping through screens on his cell. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  “Well, good for Kate. I think that’s a fantastic idea.” Laura folded her arms across her shiny tank top. “Look at you two right now, plugged into those things like some kind of bad Syfy movie. There’s a whole world going on around you and you don’t hear a single word anyone says.”

  Rory looked up, eyebrows drawing together. “What’s that now?”

  Her lips pressed into a thin, grim line. “Very funny.”

  “No, I’m serious. I didn’t hear a single word you just said; I was snapchatting. Check out this new filter that makes you look like an alien.” He held the phone up and she rolled her eyes.

  Woody slipped his cell into a front pocket. “Truth is, it’s actually kinda nice to unplug once in a while. Reminds me of when I was a kid and we’d ride our bikes ten miles without water or a helmet.”

  “What if we have a car problem? Or what if someone gets hurt?”

  “What if we have a great time?” Woody sighed. “Look, we’re taking two cars and we have first aid kits. Kate knows how to dress a field wound and we’re just going to chill hard.” He flattened his lips. “Dude, seriously, what’s the worst that could happen?”

  Chapter Three

  Lake Darling

  Stu stopped running and rested his hands on his knees, gasping for air. He looked down the shoreline, squinting against the late afternoon sun. “Boomer!” The black lab stopped frolicking in the water and turned to him, ears lifting into the sky as if Stu just said something about a treat. “Come on, buddy!” Stu waved and Boomer hesitated before sprinting across the hot sand, tags jingling around a red collar. “Let’s walk it out for a while, huh buddy? I’ve got a major cramp.” He rubbed the dog’s shiny wet head and straightened up, clutching his side. Boomer shook back and forth, spraying him with lake water.

  “Hey!” Stu laughed as a flock of geese glided over the tree line, honking and smoothly splashing down into a calm and serene Lake Darling. Pointy eared, Boomer watched the waterfowl through engrossed eyes, somehow resisting the urge to leave his master’s side.

  “Hang on a second, I think we’ve got a live one here, Boom,” Stu whispered, causing the lab to notice the approaching silhouette of someone walking a small dog. When Stu caught wind of the long brown hair and short shorts on the woman coming his way, he was happy to be wearing sunglasses. Starting towards her, he acted like he wasn’t staring at the breasts jiggling inside a red tank top as she powerwalked across the sand. “Just remember, Boom, play cute and cuddly until I get her number. Then you can go back to your normal self. Okay?”

  Boomer barked one time and shook more water from his coat.

  “Atta boy,” Stu whispered, trying to round up his best opening line. This was the hard part. At least in a bar, everyone had some liquid courage running through their veins. Because it didn’t matter if it was the grocery store, the gym, or the bookstore, he always felt like a creep approaching women without at least a three-beer buzz swirling around inside his head. But he was tired of meeting women in the bars. They were always the same sloppy drunks who didn’t know when to leave the next morning. Unfortunately, women weren’t exactly falling over themselves to date a balding insurance salesman and, at thirty-seven, time wasn’t on his side. Some of his friends already had kids in high school and in a town this size, the good ones went fast. Beer buzz or not, he would swing the bat.

  Boomer couldn’t restrain himself a second longer and took off down the beach, quickly closing on the geese drifting closer to shore. The brunette’s small dog jerked back on its leash, releasing a panicked series of high-pitched yelps as Boomer zipped past.

  “Sorry bout that,” Stu said, watching the lab leap into the lake and scare the large birds into flight. “He’s got a one-track mind.”

  Shielding her eyes from the setting sun, she watched Boomer with a pretty smile shaping her lips and the sweet smell of jasmine floating from her skin. “He’s a cutie. What’s his name?”

  Stu tried not to stare at the nipples poking through her tank top. Tried not to wonder if she was wearing a bra o
r not because that would only fluster his game. “Stu. I mean, Boner. Boomer! I’m Stu. He’s Boomer,” he panted, extending a sweaty hand.

  Her eyes dropped to his hand and hovered. Stu cringed, knowing he just officially creeped her out because, after all, he was a stranger and strangers were bad, especially ones who said the word boner.

  She took his hand and squeezed, sending an electric charge up his arm. “I’m Tanya.”

  Relief washed over him and he held onto her hand for a few seconds too long. “And who’s this?” he asked, reluctantly releasing her warm skin and looking down at the fluffy Pomeranian dancing around her feet.

  “This is Chloe,” Tanya replied, untangling the leash from her toned legs.

  “Wow, she looks dangerous.”

  “She likes to think she is.”

  “Looks like she’s been working out or something.”

  Smiling, she stroked Chloe’s head. “She keeps me in shape, that’s for sure. Don’t you, girl?” Chloe wagged her tail faster, acutely watching Boomer splash around in the water down the way.

  “Hi Chloe,” Stu said in a high-pitched voice, bending over to pet her. Chloe viciously snapped at his fingers. “Jesus!” he shrieked, yanking his hand back.

  Tanya jerked on the leash, her smile dropping to the sand. “Chloe! Oh my God, did she get you?”

  Stu examined his fingers and exhaled a relieved breath. “No, but that was a close one.”

  “That is a bad dog!” she said, glaring at Chloe, who stopped barking and sat in the sand, watching Boomer sniff around in the water now up to his belly. “I’m sorry; she’s not very good with strangers yet. I just got her last month from the shelter.”

  “Man, you need to watch the Dog Whisperer. That guy will have Chloe doing dishes in an apron before you know it.”

  Tanya chuckled, staring at him through these beautiful browns that made his heart beat faster in his chest. “Now that would be a trick,” she replied, brushing a long strand of hair from her face. “She’s only two, so I guess it’s not too late to teach her some new ones. How old is Boomer?”

  “He’s six, going on three.” Stu smiled, watching Boomer nose around in the water. “He’s a big baby but a really good dog.” Taking a deep breath of fresh country air, the conversation trailed off into an awkward silence that usually predicates the end of said conversation. Soft waves lapped at the shoreline while Stu’s mind worked double-time, trying to scrape together something witty to say before Tanya told him to enjoy the day and walked out of his life forever. She was way too beautiful for something tragic like that to happen.

  “I think I saw the two of you out here last Tuesday around this time.”

  His heart skipped a beat, making him a little dizzy. It wasn’t possible. Did she just bail him out? “Yeah, we were out here on Tuesday,” he replied, unsure which shocked him more: The fact that he somehow missed this bombshell. Or that she remembered him.

  A light breeze pulled the hair from her face. “I love walking out here; it’s so beautiful.”

  Stu followed her gaze to the large lake he grew up fishing and swimming in with his family and friends. It definitely held a certain charm but one he had come to take for granted.

  “We just moved here last week.”

  His gaze swept back to Tanya, who was smiling down at Chloe. Stu’s blood pumped faster in his ears. It was a Christmas miracle come early, or late. Regardless, God had given him first crack at a new transplant and he would not let God down. “Oh yeah? Where from?”

  “Chicago.”

  “Chicago? Wow, you lose a bet or something?”

  Her abrupt laughter lit up his world. “No, I took the Assistant Director position at the public school system here in town.”

  He opened his mouth but nothing came out. “Wow. Really?”

  She nodded, trying to fight back a proud smile.

  “That is great. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you, I really like it here. The people are so nice.”

  “They really are. All twenty-seven of them.”

  A short giggle escaped her full, red lips. “Are you a native?”

  “Born and raised.”

  “So what do you do for fun around here anyway? Other than come out to the lake.”

  Stu tried not to let the bells and whistles going off in his head like he just hit a million-dollar slot in Caesar’s Palace distract him. “There’s actually more to do than you probably think.” Taking a hopeful breath, he held onto it and dug his running shoes into the sand. “Maybe I could take you on a little tour this weekend, if you really want to see the underbelly of Minot.” His eyebrows rose into the middle of his forehead, pulse racing, sweat sprouting.

  She stared at him through his sunglasses like she could see his eyes, brushing a sneaker across the top layer of the sand. His mind scrambled for something to tip the scales in his favor, but everything felt desperate or perverted (or both) so he checked on Boomer, who was busy scouting the water. Suddenly freezing in place, the lab turned to stone and stared hard into the water before pouncing on something and then moving on like nothing ever happened.

  “Do you have your phone? I’ll give you my number.”

  Stu turned back to Tanya, trying not to look too astounded and failing miserably. Yanking his cell from his shorts, he nearly dropped it. “Yeah, I’ve got it,” he said coolly, handing her the phone. Her fingers brushed against his as she took it, igniting another spark inside he wanted to turn to a fire. He refused to fidget under any circumstance as she entered her number into his phone because this was BIG and he did not want to blow it now. No, now was the time to shut his trap and get out while the getting was good.

  She handed the cell back. “I like your display.”

  His gaze fell from her chest to the picture of Boomer wearing a Darth Vader mask and black cape and there was no hiding the red creeping into his cheeks. At that very moment, something witty came to him out of thin air. Something that would make her laugh out loud. Something she would remember for the rest of her life. It was that fucking good. Opening his mouth to spring this wonderful gift on her, a strained yelp pierced the lakeside and cut him off. Stu turned to see a bearded man in a suit and tie high-stepping through the water, carrying Boomer under one arm like a running back. Boomer struggled for freedom as the big man went in deeper, managing to get out one last howl before water rushed over his snout.

  Stu’s cellphone slipped from his fingers to the sand as the man’s head disappeared next. “What the hell,” he muttered, turning a confounded stumble into a frantic sprint. “Boomer!” Kicking up sand, Stu splashed into the lake and stopped knee-deep, chasing his breath and scanning the blooming ripples. “Boomer!” His cry carried across the hillsides and vanished.

  “What was that?” Tanya shouted from the shoreline behind him, the wind tugging at her hair as she clutched Chloe to her chest.

  Stu waded in deeper, unable to formulate a response, replaying things in his head. Things that couldn’t be. “It was a man!” he finally answered, searching the murky water.

  “How? How can that be?” she gasped, even though she saw the exact same damn thing he did.

  He turned to her, horror dripping from his eyes like the water from his nose. “Where’d he go?”

  Shaking her head, her teeth began to chatter. “I don’t know.”

  He stared at her through wild eyes, heart jackhammering against his sternum. “Call the police!” Stu pointed to his phone in the sand but Tanya didn’t follow his finger. Instead, her eyes slipped over his shoulder and got round. The wind picked up and the color drained from her face. Spinning, he stumbled backwards, staring incredulously at the three elderly men slowly emerging from the water.

  Tanya screamed and Chloe shot from her arms. “Chloe!” The small Pomeranian hit the ground running, charging the men coming out of the lake and barking like she meant business. Stu backpedaled toward the beach, unable to tear his eyes from the things trudging closer. Their suits and ties
were tattered and torn with loose strips of fabric hanging like the skin and moss from their faces. The one with a pocket watch reached for Stu with decomposing hands, watching him through recessed eyes while Chloe yipped off to the side. They slogged closer. The dog barked harder. Stu couldn’t breathe. An old lady in a black dress exploded from the water and snatched Chloe before the dog knew what hit her, spiking Stu’s already racing adrenaline. The woman dove back into the water as fast as she came out, cutting the Pomeranian off in mid-yip. Tanya’s subsequent scream skipped across the water.

  Stu jerked his gaze back to the men reaching for him through tattered coat sleeves. His heel collided with a buried rock in the lakebed and he hit the water with a loud slap. The old men sneered, exposing broken teeth and blackened gums. Stu crawled backwards on his butt like a crab, kicking as they snatched at his ankles. Their clammy, yet firm grips made him shriek to the blue skies above.

  The men took their time dragging him into deeper water while Stu twisted onto his stomach and clawed at the sand. Water splashed into his mouth. Broken fingernails dug into his legs. “H-help!” He choked, watching Tanya stand there with her hands covering her mouth. “Run,” he yelled, taking a big gulp of air just before his head went under.

  Stu held his breath, knowing it wouldn’t last long at the rate his heart was pounding. His eyes opened to see a blurry image of the men swimming with their arms at their sides and legs pressed together like tails. The water turned darker. Colder. Stu clawed at someone’s hand around his ankle and tore away a piece of clay-like flesh. Dropping it, he thrashed wildly as his ears began to pop and the sunlight faded above. Bubbles streamed from his nose and mouth. His body twisted, desperate for a sip of air.

  He kicked against their death grips and, instinctively, took a breath of lake water. His body convulsed with the liquid entering his lungs. A fuzzy silhouette of Boomer’s tail appeared above him, hanging limply in the thickening water like a discarded stick. Stu reached for it and something bit down into his left leg. His body recoiled. More bubbles shot from his nose. The water turned red around him and rushed into his lungs. Something bit into his backside and he released a scream no one could hear. Arching his back, teeth sunk into his arm and tore away a veiny chunk of his bicep. Gradually, Stu’s resistance weakened as Boomer’s tail faded into the darkness pressing in from all sides.

 

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