A Life of Death: Episodes 9 - 12

by Weston Kincade

  “Don’t you worry about that harlot,” Mrs. Easely said. “My baby’s takin’ good care of her. She’ll get the comeuppance she deserves, cavorting with demons like you and giving birth to more hell spawn.”

  Tears threatened, and my heart felt like it was ripping in two. Time… not enough time. She might shoot Jamie if I make a move, but if I do nothing… Paige.

  “Mrs. Easely,” Jamie said, holding a hand up, palm first, “you don’t wanna do this. We’re not what you think. Your granddaughter killed fourteen people. If you do this, you’ll be no better than her. We won’t be the one’s goin’ to hell, you will.” He gave her a moment to think, but her jaw tightened. His other hand’s fingers curled around something invisible, but remained lowered at his side. “Don’t do this.” He took a slow step forward, and panic entered my old teacher’s eyes.

  “Boy, you better watch your step,” Mrs. Easely growled. “It’s just like one of Satan’s minions to try and turn me against my blood. Those boys raped my baby. Those horny sinners had it comin’.”

  Jamie took another step, closing the distance between them to under ten feet. “You’re a good woman, Mrs. Easely. You taught children for years, helped them to grow up and be model citizens. I know you won’t do this. Andrew wouldn’t have allowed this. It’s wrong.”

  Her arms stiffened, and the trembling stopped. “You are a wily one,” she said, her voice quaking this time. “Bringing up my dead husband, I should shoot you right where you stand.”

  Jamie didn’t take his eyes off her, and now only eight feet separated them. His voice was calm and soothing. “I know you miss your family, but you can’t bring them back this way. Like you said, I can speak with them. You know I can.”

  “Uh, Jamie, admitting to that’s probably not a good idea,” I hissed, lifting myself on my good elbow and working my hand down to my waist.

  “Quit movin’!” she shouted, glancing at me, then back at Jamie. “And you… you should be ashamed.”

  Jamie shook his head. “I’m not ashamed. I help people just like you. Andrew wants you to stop.”

  A tear ran from under Mrs. Easely’s wire-rimmed glasses. “Don’t you talk about him,” she hissed, her arms shaking.

  “He’s holding my hand right now, Deborah, whispering in my ear,” Jamie explained, taking another step, his hand still curled at his side. “Remember the good times. Even when things were hard and budgets were getting cut, y’all made it through by supporting each other. I know he wasn’t a believer in the afterlife. He told me, but he’s here for you now. You just have to accept him.”

  Mrs. Easely stepped to the side, placing space between her and us. “No, that’s not right. He’s in heaven.” Another lance of light illuminated her more clearly as she shook her head, her gray curls quivering as though an uninvited spider had gotten into them.

  “He’s right here.” Jamie held up his hand, maintaining the invisible hold. Smoke from the fire drifted through the trees, and I could have sworn it parted around a large, form standing next to Jamie. “He’s with me. He’s here for you,” Jamie added.

  “S-stop. P-please stop,” Stone Face Easely pleaded, her façade finally breaking. The gun lowered to the ground, and I grasped mine, flicking open the leather fastener. However, they were now mere feet apart, with Jamie standing almost directly between us.

  “Deborah, Andrew wants to show you something, but he has to use me to communicate. Please, take my hand.” Jamie took another step forward, extending his free hand toward her.

  “It c-can’t be,” she stammered. “He’s in heaven.”

  “There are many places and states in the afterlife, Mrs. Easely. Andrew’s here for you.”

  Freeing one shivering hand from the pistol’s grip, Easely lifted her hand to his. She hesitated over his fingers, and Jamie grasped hers, wrapping his fingers around her small palm and wrist.

  “It’s okay, Deborah,” he said, an older, much lower voice underlying his words. “I’m here for you.” The other voice was more pronounced in the final words, using Jamie’s lips as though he were a ventriloquist’s dummy.

  Easely’s eyes widened behind her silver spectacles. “Andrew?” Her tone was unsteady, but held an element of disbelief.

  “Darlin’, you can’t do this. What would Elmore think? Your daddy would’ve strapped you good for even thinkin’ about something like this,” Jamie said, his voice now completely lost in the ghost’s. “And I’m ashamed. I love you, doll, but this has got to stop.”

  More tears ran down her face, dripping onto her floral sweater. She dropped the gun to the leaf-covered ground and placed her other hand in Jamie’s, staring into his eyes.

  “Now, darlin’, I’ve gotta show you somethin’,” Jamie said. Deborah’s deceased husband’s baritone voice held a mountain drawl like many of the locals in the area. “This is for the best.”

  Mrs. Easely nodded her head and licked her lips, gripping Jamie’s hand as though it were her lifeline. A burst of light flashed in their hands, growing until it coursed through both their bodies. Mrs. Easely’s head flew back, her glasses spinning into the shadowy night. Her mouth and face contorted as though in silent anguish, highlighted by the bright light. Her mouth attempted to scream, but not even a croak emerged. Her hands began to vibrate then shake, growing more pronounced as it spread through her body like the light had. Soon her entire body seized as though suffering an epileptic fit. When it could not be controlled anymore, her hands slid out of Jamie’s and she collapsed to the ground. The light dimmed and vanished, leaving her huddled form contorted and shivering. Jamie stared at her, panting and taking a teetering step to steady himself.

  Another scream echoed through the forest. This time Paige wailed, “It burns. Help!”

  Both our heads spun to see the building glowing like an enormous torch in the night. I couldn’t see my wife’s form since the front of the building stood in the distance, facing us. Jamie and I scrambled toward it, going as fast as our bodies would allow. Paige… Paige… my beautiful, Paige, was all I could think. Sirens and a woman’s scream echoed in the distance, but barely registered in my conscious thoughts. Hurtling around the burning shed, I moved back until I could see Paige, still tied to the tin roof. Parts of it glowed reddish-orange.

  She squirmed against the heat and held her head up, eyes wide and pleading as they met mine. “Alex, help,” she croaked.

  I didn’t realize I was still holding my coat until I began beating at the burning wall with it, determined to make my way up. The heat was incredible, and sweat emerged from everywhere as I approached the scorched logs. Grasping the searing-hot wall, the pain in my fingers was but a distant thought compared to the need to save Paige, the love of my life. Throwing the coat across the roof of the shed, I pulled myself up and onto it. “I’m comin’, baby. I’m comin’,” I whispered.

  Her hair hung in sweaty tendrils, but she’d been able to spit out the dirty cloth that was shoved in her mouth. “Alex, help,” she whispered and coughed, pain-filled tears streaming from her red-rimmed eyes. Lengths of thick rope secured her to the roof like hospital-bed straps, and her wrists were zip-tied like the other victims.

  I jerked on one rope and felt it give and snap, probably fraying at the end from the fire. It loosened, but didn’t completely give way. I pulled harder, placing my shoulder underneath and standing, forcing it up and away from the roof. Paige’s body shifted, lifting, but weighing me down since the cord was wound under her right arm and over her torso, then under the next arm. It finally gave way, and I almost lost my balance on the slanted roof. Paige sat up and rolled her upper body onto the coat at my feet while I steadied myself. I pulled at the one binding her legs. It held tight.

  “Here,” Jamie shouted from below and threw me a folding knife, the one with the faux-wooden handle I’d given him last Christmas.

  I flipped the blade out and began sawing at the rope. Should… have… sharpened… it, I silently swore with each sawing stroke. Seconds passed like
years. Clouds of smoke billowed from around the roof edges, and small tendrils emerged from nail holes and cracks. I blinked at my watering eyes, focusing on the taut rope wound around Paige’s feet. After what seemed like an eternity, it snapped and I untangled her feet, lifting them onto the overcoat. I stood over her, my legs straddling her bruised and burnt body while I used the knife on the zip-tie. “Don’t move, baby,” I whispered.

  She panted and closed her eyes, but her trembling hands and arms revealed the willpower it must have taken to remain still in that inferno. I stared down as she curled her hands out, away from the binding and Jamie’s knife. Inside, each palm held a fresh brand to match Jamie’s forehead. I cursed Liz in silence yet again, but worked at the plastic tie. Her hands came free a moment later, and pained, watering eyes opened to stare at me.

  “We’re goin’ home, honey,” I said, positioning myself on the metal roof so I could lift her in my arms. The soles of my shoes stuck at first, then squished with each step, but I lifted her, and she looked into my eyes with relief and love.

  “Jamie, you down there?” I asked, unable to see him as I moved closer to the roof’s edge.

  “Yeah, right below you. Just drop her a few inches from the roof, and I’ll catch her.” Paige’s eyes flew wide at his words.

  I whispered, “It’ll be okay, love. Trust in me… and your son.”

  She nodded. “I do.”

  Holding her out, I doubled-checked my distance from the edge and let go. She plummeted down, her mouth clamped shut, until Jamie caught her in his arms and carried her a few yards away into the trees. There he laid her on the ground while I grabbed my overcoat and leapt to the ground, wincing as the jolt enraged the gunshot wound and my broken ribs. The pain in my burnt fingers filtered to my mind. I gritted my teeth and shuffled the coat, draping it over my left forearm.

  “You two okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah, we’re good,” Jamie replied, helping Paige to her feet and placing her arm over his shoulders.

  They followed me around the corner of the building just as an enraged woman’s voice bellowed, “You!” Lifting Hector’s gun from next to Mrs. Easely’s shivering body, Liz stalked forward, aiming it at not me, but Jamie. “What did you do to her?”

  “Now wait a second, Liz,” I said, stepping between them and raising my hands. “Let’s put the gun down. No one needs to get hurt here. Enough blood’s already been shed.”

  “Alex, there’s more than one bullet in this, and they’ve got both your names on them. Whoever wants to go first is fine with me.”

  “Shelley,” came Jamie’s calm voice from behind me, “this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. Your grandmother realized that. She’ll be okay in time.”

  “You have no idea how this is supposed to be!” Liz screamed, her hand shaking as rage contorted her face. “Jessie should be alive. My mom should be alive. My brother shouldn’t have burned.” With her free hand, she gestured wildly, emphasizing each sentence.

  Jamie let Paige slump onto me. Then he stepped closer to Liz.

  “Jamie, stop.”

  He didn’t listen or even acknowledge my voice. “Look, your mother died of cancer. That couldn’t be helped. The doctors did all they could.”

  Jamie’s words surprised me. How does he know? A moment later it occurred to me. Andrew Easely wasn’t the only one he was speaking to.

  Jamie continued and closed the distance with another small stride. “But your father isn’t dead. Your mom lied to you.”

  “Don’t you dare,” Liz demanded, motioning at him with the gun. “She would never do that. She was a professor in search of knowledge and the truth.”

  Jamie held up his hands as I had, showing he had nothing in them. “I’m telling you, he’s not dead.”

  “He’s not,” I added, reaching an arm around Paige’s waist and hoping to gain Liz’s attention. Paige winced, and I loosened my grip. “Your father is Greg Rayson, right?” I waited for her to nod. “He lives in DC. He doesn’t even know your mother’s dead. I met him with Jessie. They work together.”

  “That can’t be true,” she said, almost talking to herself.

  “Think about it,” Jamie added. “Your mom didn’t tell you because she and your father fought. She thought you’d be better off with her. All parents lie to their children if they think it’s in their best interests. She didn’t mean any harm by it.”

  “But how do you know?” Liz demanded, shaking the pistol at him.

  I swallowed the large lump in my throat at seeing the unsteadiness of her hands. She’s goin’ over the edge, Jamie. She might shoot you without even realizing it. Paige’s eyes met mine, pleading for me to do something. I held my coat in front of me and took a small step to the right, opening my view of Liz, and Paige followed my lead, sticking with me.

  “I’ve talked to her,” Jamie answered. “You know exactly what me and my dad can do. Your grandmother told you, right?”

  Liz nodded. “Yes, she did. How do you think I knew to keep hidden?”

  This time, Jamie nodded. “I realize. So you know I’m telling you the truth. I’m not crazy, but what you’re doing is. You have to stop.”

  “But Mom is in the Duat,” she explained, a tremor running through her words. “She and Trevor both are. I made sure of it. Osiris got his golden bulls. It says so in his prayers.”

  Trevor? Wait, Buddhist-wannabe Trevor? It dawned on me who the young boy was, and who the voice in the distance calling his name belonged to.

  “That wasn’t what Osiris meant,” Jamie replied. “Shelley, your mother’s work was precious to her. You know she loved every aspect of ancient Egypt, and you also know what you’ve done wouldn’t have made her happy. You have a father who’d love to be with you. Don’t throw it away.”

  The pieces in the puzzle finally began fitting together. The local Egyptologist that lost her job when the college closed its Archeology department must have been Liz’s mother. This was all a morbid, twisted misunderstanding of her mother’s life-long passion. It also occurred to me how pained and distorted Liz’s view of the world must have been over the years.

  Liz shook her head as though forcing out Jamie’s attempt to reason with her. “Even if you’re right, there’s nothing if I let you take me in. Jessie’s gone, and I have no future in a prison cell.” The tremble in her voice vanished, and she steadied the gun on Jamie’s head. “You know, that brand makes a perfect target.” Her voice was ominous and decided.

  Gripping my nine-millimeter, I jerked it free, leveled it on Liz, and pulled the trigger. Paige dove at Jamie, shoving him aside and to the ground. A split second after my shot rang out, Liz’s gunshot permeated the air. Then she fell backward, blood streaming from her eye where my bullet hit. I slumped to my knees next to Paige and Jamie as they rose. Pushing back Jamie’s hair, I inspected every inch of his face and head.

  “I’m okay, Dad,” he said, pushing aside my hands. “Mom, you okay?”

  She knelt over Jamie on his other side and smiled. “Yeah, honey, I am.”

  I helped them to their feet, grimacing when Paige took hold of my injured shoulder. She pulled her hand away and stared at her bloody palm, then at me. “Oh, Alex?” she asked, worry etched across her face. “We’ve gotta get you to a hospital.”

  Sirens wailed in the distance, but much closer now. “They’re comin’. Anyone seen Hector?”

  “No,” Jamie said while stooping over Liz’s still form, “but you’re a damn good shot, Dad.”

  “We’ve gotta find him. He might be hurt. I think I saw someone over here.” I ran to where I’d first seen the prone form hidden under the trees and slumped to my knees as a glimmer of starlight played across a bloody wound on his head. I felt for a pulse and sighed with relief. It was strong.

  Examining his forehead, Martinez winced at my touch. “Damn, woman!” he muttered. “Can’t you leave me—” Opening his eyes, his words came to an abrupt halt as he stared up at me.

  “Martinez, you call me wom
an again, and we’re gonna have issues.”

  He smiled and chuckled. “Did you get the license plate of the freight train that hit me?”

  “Can you get up?” I asked, shaking my head with a laugh.

  “Yeah, if you’ll give me a hand.”

  I offered him the lesser of my two injured ones, fortunately the hand not attached to my bleeding shoulder, and he took it.

  Making our way as a group back to the large house that now looked like a bonfire of the gods, Paige commented, “You know, babe, I think we’re gonna have to get you a new jacket.”

  I lifted the draped coat on my arm, staring at the bloodstains, burns, and torn sections, and that was just what was visible under starlight. “Yeah, you’re probably right, but I don’t think I’ll ever get rid of this one. It saved too many lives today.”

  “Oh, is it a part of the family now?” Jamie asked. “Can I name it Fluffy?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Sure, Jamie.” Questions were flitting through my mind, and I couldn’t help but ask one. “I think I know, but how did you really get all that information about Easely and Liz?”

  He gave me a crooked smile that looked quite odd with the distant firelight playing across the blistered ankh on his forehead. “I’m sure you know. It wasn’t a trick. Like you’ve always said, Dad, use what you’ve got.” Paige watched us with interest, my free hand gently circling her waist, while Hector stared at Jamie in astonishment.

  “Wait, you too?” my partner asked.

  Jamie smiled wider. “Yeah, me too.”

  “How long have you been talking to them?” I interjected.

  “A couple years. It started when I visited Grandpa’s grave with you once.”

  Suddenly it hit me. About a year and a half prior, Jamie began visiting my father’s grave on his own. I thought it a bit odd at first considering Jamie’d never met the man, but let it be.