by Marty Shaw
Dead Pool: Exorcist Files #1
Marty Shaw
Copyright © 2017 by Marty Shaw
Cover (hand in water)
© Can Stock Photo / andreykuzmin
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, businesses, and events are the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
ONE
The nightmare was always the same. Susan and her friends were in the fancy hotel, all dressed up in their skimpy dresses that showed a lot of back, a lot of leg, and a whole lot of cleavage. It was no big deal. They were Barracudas—members of the school’s elite championship swim team—so they were used to showing a lot of skin.
No other students would’ve gotten away with dressing how they were dressed tonight, but no other students had won the state swimming championship. . . again. The Barracudas didn’t follow rules; they made them. And everyone knew it. Senior prom was no exception.
Smiling and nodding at everyone who looked their way, Susan and her friends made their way through the crowd. She took a sip of fruit punch and glanced towards the door of the ballroom the prom was being held in, wishing she could be just about any place but here.
“You keep looking at that door as if ‘N Sync is going to come strutting in at any moment,” her best friend, Diana, said, nudging her shoulder playfully. “Know something we don’t?”
Susan laughed. “I wish.” She shrugged. “I’m just not in a party mood tonight, I guess.”
Diana nodded towards the red plastic cup in Susan’s hand. “It’s because of that foul punch you’re drinking.” She patted the tiny purse slung over her shoulder. “But I’ve got the good stuff right here if you want to add a little. . . flavor.”
Susan shook her head. “No thanks.” She raised her cup and forced a smile. “There’s something to be said about staying sober when everyone around you is getting drunk.”
Diana made a face. “Yeah, there’s a lot to be said. . . and none of it is good.” She reached into her purse. “Come on, Shark. It’s prom night. We’ve won the state championship four years in a row. We deserve to cut loose and get wild.”
Susan laughed at the nickname, but she felt a wave of sadness wash over her. Would she still be The Shark out in the real world? She didn’t think so. After the news she had recently gotten, she was pretty sure nothing would be the same ever again.
Diana glanced around and pulled a silver flask from her purse. She wiggled her eyebrows. “A little something to lighten the mood?”
“I can’t,” Susan said, before realizing she had even spoken.
Diana gave her an odd look. “You can’t? What’s that mean?”
Susan chewed on her bottom lip nervously as all her friends looked at her. She usually liked being the center of attention, but not tonight. She shrugged, offering everyone a weak smile as she fought to hold back tears that suddenly wanted to fall. “It’s just. . . I mean. . .” She shrugged again. “Billy broke up with me, and getting sloppy drunk probably isn’t a good idea right now.” Half the truth was better than none, she reasoned.
“That motherfucking asshole,” Diana said, fire in her eyes. “Want to go beat the holy fuck out of his car?” The others in the group murmured their support for the idea.
Susan couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped. “No. He’s a dick and not worth the energy.” She wiped her eyes carefully, trying not to smudge her makeup.
Diana waved off the gesture. “Fuck the makeup.” She glanced around the group. “Know what we need?”
“Pool purge,” a couple of voices in the group answered.
Diana nodded, raising an eyebrow as she looked at Susan.
Susan considered for a second. A pool purge was just a fancy name for hitting the water and going all out, swimming as fast as you could for as long as you could, until you were completely spent, your mind and body too exhausted to worry about anything else. All the Barracudas had done it before. Whenever someone was down or frustrated or worried, hitting the pool and pushing themselves to the limit always seemed to help.
Susan nodded. “Pool purge.”
Diana and the others whooped and hollered, earning a few looks from some of the other partygoers. They didn’t care. It was time to get wet.
They headed out of the ballroom and pushed through the front doors of the hotel without slowing down.
And found themselves in the high school swim gym. Susan looked around, confused. “How did we get here?”
Diana gave her an odd look. “Uhhh. . . pool purge. Remember?”
“But. . . we were at the hotel.”
Susan’s friends looked at her like something might be wrong with her.
“Yeah,” Diana said. “We were at the hotel, and then we talked about the pool purge and came here.” Diana stepped closer to her friend. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Susan looked around the empty gym. “Something’s not right.”
Diana started to say something, but then her eyes grew wide. She reached for her throat and coughed, spitting up water.
Susan gasped, dread slicing through her. “Diana?” She wanted to go to her friend but her feet wouldn’t move.
The other Barracudas began coughing, clawing at their necks and chests as they started coughing up water.
Susan looked around, confused. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
Susan!
The voice was in her head. Stunned, she spun around and gasped. A girl stood at the edge of the pool. She had long blonde hair, hanging limply down her back because it was wet. Her skin was pale, her eyes foggy. A constant stream of water dribbled from between dark lips. She wore the black and gold swimsuit of the Barracudas but Susan knew the girl wasn’t on the team.
“I know you,” Susan said, reaching for the name buried in her memory.
“Die,” the girl said, her eyes filled with fury.
Susan gasped and reached for her chest, her lungs suddenly feeling too full. She wheezed, trying to breathe, and then coughed, spitting up water. Chlorine burned her throat, making her eyes water. “Carla,” she gasped, her chest aching as her lungs filled with water. She coughed again, bending at the waist and hitting her chest with forceful blows. She looked up at the girl standing before her. She tried to say please, tried to beg for mercy, but no words would come. Only more water. She looked around, sinking slowly to her knees. Her friends lay on the cold tile floor, unmoving. She knew they were dead. She knew she would soon be joining them. She clawed at her throat, raking her nails down her skin. She tried to breathe but there was no room for air in her lungs. As her vision grew blurry, she saw the blonde girl walk towards her. She wrapped her arms around Susan and pulled her close.
“Soon,” she whispered in Susan’s ear.
Susan sat up in bed, clutching the sheets to her, biting back the scream that struggled to escape. She gasped, greedily sucking in air that she felt starved of. She ran a trembling hand through her hair.
Just a dream. Just another fucking dream.
Slowly, her breathing returned to normal. The dreams had started almost as soon as she returned home. She angrily wiped away tears that formed in the corners of her eyes. It wasn’t like she wanted to come back here. It wasn’t as if she had a choice. She flopped back on the pillow, wishing she could go back to sleep, knowing she wouldn’t be able to.
> Probably for the best, she thought. Today’s the day. Today’s the day I step back into the past.
TWO
Susan followed Ms. Harrimon, the assistant principal of Tall Pines High School, down the hall, a rush of bittersweet memories bombarding her. The black tile floor didn’t seem to have the shine it once had, and the student lockers, once painted a brilliant gold, were now a drab non-color that seemed to hover somewhere between gray and olive green.
Had she really spent some of the happiest years of her life here? She glanced into a few open doors as they walked, seeing listless students staring off into space as teachers droned on in a monotone, teaching things that, for the most part, wouldn’t help these kids one tiny bit when they got out into the real world.
Shaking her head, trying to dislodge the pessimistic thoughts, Susan forced a smile as the assistant principal glanced over her shoulder at her guests. Had Susan always been so pessimistic about life? No, not even when she was forced to grow up fast during her senior year. She had always prided herself on seeing the bright side of everything. But that was before she caught her husband cheating with her best friend, before she had to return to her childhood home, to the home left to her by her deceased parents; the home she said she’d never return to.
“Wow!” An excited voice exclaimed loudly; a voice that sounded very much like her younger self. Susan pulled herself away from her dour thoughts to see what had excited her daughter so much. And immediately felt a chill run through her entire body, as if her veins had suddenly been filled with ice water. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t realized where Ms. Harrimon was taking them, hadn’t even considered that it would be an option.
“It’s cool,” Samantha yelled, still not completely clear on the concept of inside voice and outside voice, even at the age of fifteen. She looked up at her mom with bright hazel eyes. “It looks just like it does in the pictures in your yearbooks.”
Ms. Harrimon looked quizzically from daughter to mother and then back to daughter. Samantha noticed the curious expression and explained. “My mom went to school here. She says everyone called her the shark.”
The assistant principal gasped, recognition dawning in her eyes as she looked at Samantha. “Of course. I thought you looked familiar. You’re the spitting image of your mom when she was your age.” She glanced up at Susan, a huge smile on her face. “Susan ‘The Shark’ Jones. What a sight for sore eyes you are, and what perfect timing, too.” She glanced down at Samantha, pride shining in her eyes. “Your mom won more solo competition trophies than anyone else in the history of the team. Without her, the Barracudas might as well have called themselves the Guppies.”
Susan felt her cheeks heat up. Nobody, aside from her daughter, had called her The Shark in a very long time. “It’s just Susan Stephenson now,” she said as she glanced around at what all the students had called the swim gym, although its official name had been the Competitive Swim Training Building. Even now, she had to admit that swim gym sounded better. She looked out over the swimming pool, the smell of chlorine bringing back memories; some of them unwanted. She looked at Ms. Harrimon. “I thought this building was closed, the pool drained, because of. . .” She glanced quickly at her daughter. “Because of things.”
Ms. Harrimon nodded. “Yes, we had a spot of bad luck a few years back, but the school board believes it’s time to bring the Barracudas back. Our swim team was always popular.” She motioned at the championship banners hanging from the ceiling. “And they were always good, with a winning streak that made them even more popular than the football team.”
Susan glanced at her daughter, who had wandered off to look at the brightly-colored Barracuda Swim Team posters hanging on the walls. They were so vibrant and colorful that they had to be copies of the originals. She could spot her smiling face in several of the images. “A spot of bad luck?” Susan whispered harshly. “People died.”
At sixty-two years of age, with her gray-streaked brown hair and outdated cat’s eye glasses, Ms. Harrimon might have appeared old and frail but she didn’t become assistant principal by letting others intimidate her. She met Susan’s gaze without blinking. “Yes, several people died. It’s a shame. Because of that, the swim department was closed, and remained closed for almost fourteen years. But life goes on. We can’t allow ourselves to forever be weighed down by what happened in the past.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Susan saw Samantha leaning over the edge of the pool, peering into its depths. “Samantha,” she snapped. “Get away from the pool.”
Frowning at her mom, Samantha backed up a couple of steps.
“They’ve already had try-outs for the teams,” Ms. Harrimon said, “but I can pull some strings. If your daughter is just half as talented as you in the pool, the Barracudas would love to have her.”
“No,” Susan said.
“Yes,” Samantha shouted, her voice filled with barely-contained excitement.”
Susan sighed. She already knew it was a battle that she wouldn’t win. “We’ll discuss it later,” she said, trying to hold off the inevitable defeat.
Samantha whooped with delight as they made their way to the exit.
“Susan.”
It was barely a whisper, the voice garbled, as if the speaker was gargling mouthwash while speaking.
Susan glanced back over her shoulder and saw a body floating in the center of the pool; a young girl wearing the black and gold swimsuit of the Barracudas, her blonde hair fanning out in the water around her head like a halo. Sucking in a sharp breath, she blinked. The body was gone.
It was never really there, Susan told herself as the double doors to the swim gym closed behind them. But she didn’t really believe it.
THREE
Chris held a finger to his lips as he inserted the key into the lock and turned it. “Shhh. The security guard is an old fart but he’s not deaf.”
Denise clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle her giggles. She only partially succeeded.
Chris rolled his eyes as he pushed the door to the swim gym—stupid name—open and let the new English teacher enter before him. His eyes roamed over her narrow waist and wide hips as she strolled in, the swinging motion of her hips and round bubble butt promising a wild ride. The lights in the swimming pool were on, creating an eerie atmosphere inside, with strange shapes moving like living things across the walls and floor.
He didn’t know why the water would be moving, but he stopped wondering about it when Denise turned to face him and pulled off her shirt, exposing a pair of breasts barely restrained by a plain white cotton bra.
Chris smiled knowingly to himself. His daddy had always told him that plain undies meant the girl hadn’t planned on having sex. This sweet little thing had zero intention of cheating on her husband when she left the house this morning. And then Chris ‘accidentally’ rubbed his huge package across her round ass as he slid by her in the break room. As soon as she gasped out loud, he knew she was his.
And now here they were. It had been easy to talk her into coming back to the campus after dark. As far as his wife was concerned, he was in his office, going over possible football strategies. And as for as Denise’s husband was concerned. . . well, he didn’t really care what she told him. The important thing was that she was here.
She giggled again as he peeled his shirt off, her eyes roaming across his broad chest and tight six-pack as he walked slowly towards her. He grabbed her and pulled her close, mashing her breasts against his firm chest. He could feel her hard nipples through the bra.
“Are we gonna do it in the pool?” she asked, her voice nervous but thick with lust.
Chris shook his head. “Water’s a lousy lube.”
Denise reached up and squeezed his thick bicep with a tiny hand. “Trust me. Wetness is not a problem right now.”
He chuckled, lowering his head to hers and claiming her mouth with his lips.
She moaned, pressing her body into him. She pulled away quickly a
s something made a splashing sound in the pool. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” Chris mumbled, his lips and tongue sliding down her neck. She moaned again, her body trembling against his as his teeth nipped her shoulder.
“Oh God,” she gasped. “I want you so bad.”
Chris nipped her shoulder again, one hand sliding down and cupping a firm butt cheek. “Want or need?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“Need,” she whispered softly, running her tongue across a well-defined pec.
“Show me how bad,” he said. “Strip for me.”
With another high-pitched giggle, Denise slipped from his arms, slowly stepping back to the edge of the pool. The blue-tinted light and undulating shadows gave her an exotic look. She reached back and unclasped her bar, letting the straps slide slowly off her shoulders. She held the bra up by squeezing with her arms for a few seconds, flashing him a shy smile, and then she let it fall to the ground. Her hands slid up her torso and cupped her breasts, her thumbs flicking across her hard nipples. “Want a taste?” she asked teasingly.
Before Chris could reply, two hands rose from the pool, grabbed Denise’s ankles, and jerked her back and down. Denise’s head snapped back as her chin hit the edge of the pool. Chris winced at the sound that echoed through the gym. He had witnessed a lot of brutal hits out on the football field, and he knew what a breaking neck sounded like.
Resisting the urge to look away, already knowing what he’d see, he looked into the pool. Denise floated on her back in the water, her lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling, seeing nothing, a slightly shocked look on her face. A small trickle of blood leaked from her mouth, most likely from biting her tongue upon impact.
The hands shot up again, grabbing the edge of the pool. Chris took a step back as a girl rose effortlessly from the water, her blonde hair hanging limply down her shoulders and back. She climbed out of the pool on all fours. With her feet and palms flat on the concrete, she looked up at him.
