Dar and Kerry Series - Short Stories

by Melissa Good

  "Yeah, except that you saw them in the mansion after I told you stories about ghosts there and the haunted mansion was supposed to make you see them." Dar argued. 'Besides you have a crazy imagination."

  That was true, Andy thought. Kerry was a lot more of a dreamer than his daughter was. He explained briefly what the situation was.

  "Huh." Dar said. "Sounds more to me like someone's jerking him around."

  "Trying to get them not to get married?" Kerry wondered. "Ew. Creepy."

  Andrew thought so too, and was somewhat relieved to have his ideas validated by his kids.

  "But you know Dad, you never know." Kerry said. "Be careful, okay?"

  "Ah surely wlll." He agreed. "Ahm going to head back to Sally's and get me some shuteye. You kids be good."

  Dar chuckled. "No promises. Mom invited us over to join her for her pagan party on the boat."

  "Lord."

  "I was reading about it." Kerry added. "There was a lot of naked stuff. I hope we don't end up on Panic Seven with the hang gliding Pokemon."

  "Oh mah god."

  Both of them chuckled, making Andy aware he was being kidded. "Good night you all." He said. "And some body better be taking some pitchers."

  Andrew closed the phone and slipped it into his pocket. He started down the road, turning over the possibilities as he walked. This time he didn't look in when he passed the graveyard - he just kept walking.

  And yet, the minute he passed the gates, he felt a prickling at the back of his neck, and a distinct sensation that he was being watched. Instead of turning to see, he continued walking, crossing the blacktop and continuing along it until the turn off for the dirt road. The feeling got stronger though, with every step he could sense the oppressive attention beating down on the back of his head and it took all his will power not to either turn, or run, or both.

  He'd been in enemy territory so many times when ignoring this kind of warning just meant you were dead, real quick. But this wasn't foreign soil. There weren't shadows in the darkness with guns looking to kill him.

  He kept his pace steady, a gentle amble that brought him up even with the trunk he'd rented faster than he'd expected. He could see the lights still on in the house, but the oil barrel fire pit was empty and there were no signs of his brothers, or their friends.

  It was very quiet. He went to the oil barrel and slowly went around to the other side of it, resting his hands on the edge and looking back the way he'd come, past the edge of the yard and the parked cars, to the dirt road leading off into the distance.

  He wasn't sure what he'd expected to see. He knew himself to be a pragmatic man, but he'd seen enough in his lifetime to know there were things out there he sometimes didn't understand.

  So the empty road didn't surprise him. Seeing a figure coming down it wouldn't have surprised him. He knew the sensation of being watched was real.

  And yet the quiet, and the empty space persisted. He could feel the residual warmth under his hands and glanced down, to see the faint glow of the dying wood fire at the bottom of the barrel. As he watched it, the embers flared a little, and he blinked, lifting his hands and stepping back as a face seemed to form in the glow.

  Then he moved closer again and looked, this time only seeing dim cracks in the burned out log at the bottom.

  A faint sound made him look up sharply, and his body stiffened in reflex as he caught sight of a shadow from the corner of his eye. Instinct took over and he turned and moved toward it, his arms lifting into a ready posture.

  Then he blinked, and the shadow was gone. THe place where it had been was empty, full of nothing but leaf dappled moonlight.

  He stood still for a long moment and stared at the spot, then swept the area with his eyes looking for motion.

  Nothing.

  "Wall." He spoke aloud. "Aint that special."

  "Andy?"

  He turned at the voice, and saw Sally heading down from the porch towards him. "Yeap?"

  Sally quickly came to his side. "Where on earth did you go?"

  "Down to the church. Met your sweetheart." Andy said. "Somethin going on?"

  Sally looked around. "You should come inside. It's almost midnight." She took hs arm and started urging him towards the house. "Got some cocoa on.. share it with me?"

  Andy allowed himself to be tugged up to the door and into the house, but he paused and looked back before he closed the door, studying the yard.

  Empty.

  He closed the door and paused. The front of the house was now empty save the two of them, all Sally's helpers having gone home. He crossed the front parlor and entered the kitchen.

  "Stu and Jon are upstairs." Sally said. "Said they'd see us tomorrow."

  "Uh huh." Andy sat on a stool. "Sally."

  She peered over her shoulder at him.

  "What in the Hell is going on in these here parts?"

  Sally stirred the milk and chocolate in the pan slowly. "Funny you should put it that way." She said. "If I tell you you'er not going think I'm crazy, are you?"

  "Ah don't call no body crazy." Andy said.

  Sally poured the chocolate into two cups and brought them over to the big, scarred wooden table. She put them down and then sat down across from her brother. "I was raised in the church, Andy. I don't like thinking about things like ghosts, you understand?" She studied Andy's face.

  "Yeap."

  "But since daddy died, I swear, I seen things that made me wonder."

  "You all seen him?" Andy asked, bluntly.

  "I don't know." Sally replied. "I seen shadows. Like I'll be bringing something in to the pantry and see someone come past that door there, see?" She pointed." But no one's in the house, and when I go into the dining room it's empty." She shook her head. "I thought at first it was Stu playing jokes on me. I told them I was marrying Jasper not a week after we buried daddy, and they started in about how he'd hate that and all.. "

  "Uh huh."

  "So I figured maybe he was messing with me. I know he doesn't like Jasper either." Sally said. "But... I was seeing things when I knew for sure Stu or Jon was around." She glanced past Andy's shoulder to the steps that led to the 2nd floor. "So I don't know what's going on. I just hope it stops after we're married. Daddy told Jasper he'd shoot him if he ever caught him in the house again and Jasper's afraid that's exactly what's gonna happen."

  "Huh." Andy grunted.

  "I know you think it's crazy." Sally said. "Jasper and I talked about it... Hell Andy we even talked about running off and going to live someplace else.. but we aint' got no money for that everything I've got is tied up in this house and I.."

  She stopped speaking, as they both heard a scratching at the window and turned, to find a face looking back at them.

  Sally screamed.

  Andy got up and launched himself at the glass, his hands coming to rest on either side of the sill with a solid thump as the face vanished.

  "Oh my god!" Sally covered her mouth, as footsteps upstairs turned into a thundering on the staircase as Stu and Jon erupted into the kitchen in a tangle of bare chests and boxer briefs."What the hell?" Stu managed to get out. "Hey!"

  Andrew turned his head. "Seems like somebody's outside fussing with us." He said. "Ya'll want to put some clothes on and go hunting?"

  "Oh Andy no." Sally threw her hands up. "Don't go out there. It's after midnight!"

  Stu shifted his weight from one bare foot to the other. "WHat'd you see?" He asked. "I aint' shooting nothing I don't know what it is."

  "A face." Sally pointed. "Right there in the window, all pressed up against the glass. It went away when Andy hit the wall."

  Andy pulled the automatic from the back of his belt and headed for the front door. "Ya'll jest stay right here." He opened the door before they could protest and walked through it into the darkness outside.

  It seemed to have grown colder in the few minutes since he'd been out there. Andy walked down off the porch and headed for the kitchen side of the house, aiming for
the window he'd seen the face in.

  He held the gun in one hand with the muzzle pointed upward, his gentle amble morphing into the silent careful foot placement of a hunting cat. He kept his eyes shifted to the side of the window, waiting for his night vision to kick in. He could hear wind in the leaves, and the soft patter of some small animal off to his left, but so far nothing appeared large enough to be a person.

  He slipped past a pair of old oak trees, reaching out to pat them with his hand as the old friends they were then he ducked around the side of the house and searched what had once been the kitchen garden.

  He could see Stu inside the house, his hands pressed against the glass around his eyes as he looked outside, but that flushed from his mind when he heard, far off, a terrified scream.

  He turned, sweeping the yard in a rapid movement of his head, then he heard another scream and started towards it at a run.

  He passed the oil barrel, catching a faint glimpse of something from the corner of his eye, feeling a bare tug at his shirt as he left the yard and hit the road.

  Midnight? He wondered at Sally's fear, then realized it's source. Midnight of Halloween, she meant, something to be afraid of.

  He heard another scream, hoarse and terrified, and he ran towards it, glancing around him as he did. The moon had tipped behind the hills and he was now in real darkness, the spaces between the houses and trees full of shifting shadows.

  His imagination? Andy allowed it might be, He reached the blacktop and now he could see down the street - spotting a green flash of light coming from the gates of the cemetery.

  "Wall, sure." He muttered. "Had to be that there place."

  The road was completely empty. The church no longer was lit, everything around seemed to be blacked out. A strong, cold wind blew across his face, and it occurred to him he might should feel nervous a bout it all.

  He didn't. Too much dark water'd gone under his bridge, he reckoned. He bolted towards the wrought iron gates and looked through them, seeing through the trees a faint outline of a man struggling and a flash of ghostly white.

  The gates were padlocked. Andy took a step back and then lunged against them, his body weight sending the portals sharply inward and breaking the chain with a brittle snap. He shoved his way through and bolted down the long, tree lined avenue leading to the gravesides.

  He could hear thrashing, and then, the sound of a whip, and as he rounded the last corner of hedges he spotted five ghostly figures surrounding a figure on the ground, accompanied by thuds and curses.

  He never slowed down. He plowed into them at full speed and used his forward motion to send the figure closest to him sprawlling full length in the dirt.

  Without a sound, he attacked a second figure, his hands feeling real flesh as he broke an arm, and body slammed the figure into a tombstone then went on to the next. He roundhouse kicked a third, and slammed his elbow into the jaw of a fourth, by now hearing yells of panic and consternation as he got hold of the fifth man by the white sheet draping over him and wrapped it around his throat, choking him.

  The man dropped to his knees and Andy slammed his knee into his face, feeling bone crunch as the man flipped over backwards and landed flat on his back.

  Now he stepped over the victim and stood spraddle legged over him, pulling his automatic out from the back of his belt where he'd stashed it to fight, and letting off a round into the air. "S'all the warning you all get."

  The six men started to scramble to their feet but then froze.

  Andy sensed something behind him. He watched the men's faces carefully and decided not to turn around as he felt a cold draft against his back, penetrating the shirt he was wearing and chilling his skin.

  The figure under him cried out, and covered his head with both hands.

  A cold wind rose up again, and when it did, a raspy, hollow voice came with it. "Wall. Looks like theres at least one man here."

  Andy knew that voice, despite having not heard it for twenty some years. Instead of fear, though, the voice stirred up a far more potent surge of anger.

  The men in sheets curled up on the ground, covering their eyes. "Jesus save me!" One of them yelled. "Jesus!"

  Andy could hear Jasper, crouching under him, praying. He lowered the hand he had the gun in, and exhaled.

  "Andrew. You gonna turn around and face me or run off like the last time."

  Andy turned. Behind him, rippling over the top of what he realized was his father's grave, was a gray/white mist, in a bare outline of cloak. The only vivid thing bout it was the eyes, which were cold,and gray and bright. "You all have them do this?" He indicated the shivering Jasper.

  "I'm not having my sweet daughter marry the likes of that." The spirit responded. "If I'da known how much more powerful I'd be on t'other side, I'da died sooner, tell you that." A hint of a laugh echoed off the gravestones. The mist got more distinct. "Now move, boy. I got work to finish here."

  Andy looked steadily into those gray points. "Ah dont' think so."

  The laugh sounded again. "Wall now Andrew." The spirit said. "You have any idea what the dead can do to the living?" It drifted up a bit, taking on more substance.

  "Naw." Andy said. "But I know right well what the living can do to the living and it cain't be worse." He stated. "You drove mama to death and you all made Sally's life Hell for all them years. Leave her be now."

  Another laugh. "You never did give me respect." The spirit rose up and spread its arms. "Never mind the boy. I'll get me some real satisfaction."

  "You never did deserve any respect." Andrew said. "Ya'll were just a hate filled bag of horse shit."

  "Boy."

  "Aint but the truth. Ah'd rather tell folks ah came from mama's taking the postman to bed than you."

  A rush of cold, dank air came over Andrew and he suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe as it filled his lungs with useless press sure. He threw up his hands and tried to take a step back, but found himself rooted in place as he was being pulled rapidly towards the earth.

  Under the earth. He smelled dirt, and decay, and a layer of darkness flowed over him as he lost view of his surroundings, and could only hear the scrape of cloth against stone and his own heart hammering.

  “Ahm gonna make you into worm food, you little skunk of a son.” The harsh voice filled his ears. “Walking out on your family like you done… there’s a special place for git like you where ah am now.”

  Andrew couldn’t speak to answer, but he tried to gather his strength up, making himself ready to turn it on, and let the anger in him loose before whatever it was that was holding him could do whatever it was they were threatening.

  “Scared? Boy?”

  He shook his head with great effort.

  The gray mist overwhelmed him, and he felt a burning in his eyes as something fastened around his neck and started to constrict. He lunged and struggled, as his vision went dark and sound faded out, only the dank, fetid smell and the moist, clammy touch remaining.

  Hell no.

  Then an even colder rush of air blasted him, a sharp, clean smelling chill that made him gasp, drawing in a breath of it as the mist suddenly cleared, and a rush of energy went up his spine.

  He heard a thumping sound, and then the rattle of feather, and a thin, overarching scream as his vision cleared and he saw his father's shade rippling in front of him.

  A voice erupted behind him, rich and powerful and somewhere in it's echos a bit familiar.

  "Boo!" The voice growled, and the sound of feathers sounded again, blasting him in the back with very cold air that hit his father's ghost and dispersed it explosively into tatters, that fluttered off into invisibility before his eyes.

  Then there was absolute silence. Andy felt his heart pounding and he felt a sense of awe and of fear that made his legs shake under him because he knew, without a doubt,that whatever was behind him was far more significant than a mere ghost.

  It felt savage and powerful, a shifting sense of dark energy he could feel tingl
ing against his skin, strange and potent and like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

  Now, he was afraid. Whatever this was, he felt, should be feared.

  The voice spoke again, making him flinch. "Go home." It said.

  Andy nodded, keeping his eyes straight ahead, staring at his father's headstone.

  "I'll clean up the mess." The voice said, with a hint of a dark chuckle. "They wont be missed."

  "All right." Andy managed to answer, very softly, finding it a little hard to breathe, and feeling for the first time in a very very long time like he wanted to cry.