Dead Spots

by Rhiannon Frater

  “Yeah, but we’re far from where he is, and I’m hoping his abilities are limited.”

  Mackenzie tugged on the end of her braided hair nervously. “I hate this.”

  “We’ll figure something out,” Lucas assured her.

  “I hope so. I have a bad feeling Grant is coming for me.”

  CHAPTER 28

  There were a few pleasant surprises for Mackenzie that evening when they arrived at the house to find Seth and Johnny just reaching the front gate.

  First, the house was a beautiful old Queen Anne Victorian with a wraparound porch, stained-glassed windows, and high peaked roofs painted in pale gray with red trim.

  Second, Seth appeared as a young man in his dream palace. The years peeled off him once he stepped onto the property, much to Mackenzie’s surprise. It was an impressive display of his ability to manipulate the dead spot he controlled.

  And finally, when they entered the house and Seth introduced them to his wife, Rosita was not the strange apparition Mackenzie had feared she would be. Much like Loretta, Rosita seemed like an actual person. Unlike Loretta, Rosetta was not the memory of a dead spot, but an apparition created by a man who had worshiped his wife. She was a lovely, petite woman with dark hair and eyes, though she was almost too unrealistically pretty since she had been constructed from the loving memories. Though she was charming and kind, there was something eerily too perfect about Rosita. She supposed Seth had created a new idealized wife for himself and wondered what the real Rosita had been like.

  “That’s our wedding day,” Seth pointed out when they entered the parlor during the tour through the house. The wedding portrait hung above the fireplace. The young couple was dressed in the attire of the roaring twenties and the black-and-white photo had been hand painted, giving it a strangely surreal look.

  “You look very happy,” Mackenzie said truthfully. She marveled at the heavy lace veil and stylish bob that Rosita wore. She wanted to ask when his bride had died, but refrained. Obviously, the real Rosita had died relatively young if they had married in the twenties and Seth had entered the dead spot a widower in the fifties.

  “We are,” Seth said with a blissful look on his face. “We are.”

  Exchanging looks with Lucas, Mackenzie was glad they’d spoken earlier about the situation. Though the house was beautiful, Rosita pleasant, and the atmosphere quite homey and peaceful, it gave Mackenzie the impression of being a set for a film or a play. There was a falseness to it that was a little unnerving.

  Later, after Seth was finished showing them through his impressive dream palace, Johnny played happily in the backyard, while Seth, Lucas, and Mackenzie sat on the porch examining Lucas’s maps and discussing his notes. Mackenzie had offered to assist Rosita with dinner, but she had waved Mackenzie and Lucas away when they had ventured into the kitchen to help.

  The sun’s trek across the sky was coming to an end and the pecan trees that bordered the backyard of the big house were silhouetted against a vibrant sky of purple, orange, and red. It was beautiful to behold and a comforting end to a long day.

  Exhausted, the little boy and dog lay side by side on the green lawn sharing the sort of moment only children and their furry companions seem to be able to enjoy. It had been very pleasant to see Johnny happy.

  The wicker chair Mackenzie was curled up in was quite comfortable and she soon found herself dozing off. Forcing herself awake, she returned her attention to the conversation at hand and reclaimed her beer from the table beside her.

  “If the wraith is after her, you will need to avoid the areas with high activity. It’s much easier for wraiths to track their prey in those places,” Seth was saying.

  Mackenzie almost wished she had kept dozing.

  “Then we’ll keep to the route we planned out,” Lucas decided.

  “I did meet a few people a week or so ago that came through a new dead spot near Laredo. I wrote down their information for you. I can get that for you later,” Seth said, sipping a cold beer.

  “I’d appreciate that. Mackenzie and I want to keep moving to prevent Grant from catching up to us.”

  “Grant?” Seth raised his eyebrows. “The wraith’s name is Grant?”

  Mackenzie felt her blood chill in her veins. “You know him?”

  “The name definitely rings a bell. Let me check my journals.” Seth slid out of his chair and entered the house, the screen door snapping shut behind him.

  “See, not so bad, huh?” Lucas winked at her and propped his feet up on the porch rail, tilting his chair back.

  “Is this the ‘I told you so’ moment?” Mackenzie rolled her eyes.

  “It’s not all death and mayhem all the time,” Lucas continued, ignoring her sarcasm. “It can be nice moments just like this. A cold beer, a beautiful sunset, and a kid and a dog passed out on the lawn.”

  “Your point is made,” Mackenzie said, raising her beer. She had to admit Lucas had been right about them staying with Seth. It was a respite from all they’d gone through. Maybe she was being too judgmental, a trait learned from her mother. In the end, who was she to judge Seth, if he was happy?

  Lucas tapped his beer against hers. “I live for moments like these. The quiet, peaceful times when the monsters aren’t visible and I can just pretend that it’s all okay.”

  “Are all the dream palaces like this? This peaceful?”

  “I’ve only been in a few, but yeah. They’re whatever the person wills it to be. So it consists of whatever it takes to make them feel safe and secure. Of course, their idea of an ideal life may not be yours or mine. I personally don’t want to live in a pink castle with unicorns.”

  Mackenzie giggled. “That dream palace seems to be famous.”

  “It’s pretty epic.”

  “So what would your dream palace be like? If you made one?”

  “Probably like this. A nice house, a big yard. I’d need a mechanic shop to tinker around in.”

  “Even though you could just shape things into being?”

  “Eh, being a shaper is such a cheat. There’s no joy in the creation.” Gazing out at the vast backyard, Lucas said, “I don’t think I could be happy creating a dream palace. I want the real thing. The reality of a life lived fully. The whole shebang. Wife, kids, work, barbecues on the weekends, a dog.…”

  Mackenzie understood exactly what he was saying. “It feels like we’re in a dream.”

  “His dream,” Lucas agreed. “One that doesn’t fit us just right.”

  The screen door creaked open and the youthful version of Seth appeared with a black journal in his hands. Sweeping his cowlick back from his face, he returned to his chair and settled onto it. “So, I checked one of my old journals. I keep track of everyone I meet, pretty much like you do, Lucas.”

  Mackenzie leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, her beer dangling from her fingers. “And you found Grant?”

  “I found a guy named Grant that came through here long ago. He was with a gal named Adele. They asked for shelter, but I turned them down.”

  “Why?” Mackenzie suspected she already knew the answer, but needed to hear it.

  Seth leaned over the journal, reading carefully before answering. “The woman was a wraith. A lover-girl. She had her hooks in him deep. He was smitten with her. I managed to speak to him alone for just a minute or two, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He was looking for a way out and heard rumors of an exit in this area.”

  “Rumors? How could there be rumors? If you find an exit and go through it, wouldn’t that mean no one on this end ever hears from you again?” Mackenzie gave them both a doubtful look. “Right?”

  “There are always rumors,” Seth answered. Despite his wearing the face of a much younger man, his voice was still filled with the heaviness of a long life. “Sometimes rumors start because someone headed toward one area of the country and was never seen again. People assume they got out. They don’t consider that person may have ended up a ghost or wraith.”

  “Are there
a lot of us?” Mackenzie was sure there had to be quite a few considering she had met seven other survivors since her arrival, but they had seen none that day.

  “There are a lot up north where the economy was hit really hard. People tend to head to the bigger cities, too, even though they’re very dangerous,” Lucas answered. “New York is a nightmare. Nuclear bombs, terrorist attacks, aliens … you name it. I didn’t even try to get close once I saw the big mushroom clouds going off one after the other.”

  Mackenzie leaned across the table and lightly touched the journal while gazing into Seth’s eyes. “Did the Grant you met have dark curly hair, blue eyes, really broad shoulders, and look a bit like a movie star from the old days?”

  “Honey, I am from the old days.” Seth chuckled. “But yes, now that I have my memory jarred, that’s what he looked like. Nice fellow, too. According to my notes he’d just met Adele. He talked about finding a way out, said he had a wife, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off of the wraith.”

  “So, Adele made him into what she is and then what?” Mackenzie felt sick talking about it, but had to know.

  “Well, from what I’ve gathered, if a wraith doesn’t get too greedy, they make another one just like them. But lover-boys and -gals, they tend to suck people dry of every spark of life and leave them empty. If this Grant is the wraith that marked you, Adele may have found fresher prey and abandoned him. Wraiths will work together to hunt people, but the lover-boys and -gals often go it alone unless they’re really desperate.”

  “I’m seeing ghostly women.” Mackenzie quickly explained about the blond apparition with the bleeding chest wound and the other women she’d seen throughout the day. “Why am I seeing them?”

  “Sounds like the blond one is a harbinger to me,” Seth decided, slightly frowning. “I’m going to guess she is one of Grant’s victims and she’s trying to warn you. The other women may be following in her wake. Which means he had more than one victim.”

  “He said it was his wife,” Mackenzie muttered.

  “He’s a liar,” Lucas reminded her.

  Shivering, Mackenzie sat back and swallowed the rest of the beer. Real or not, it left her buzzing.

  Seth shut his journal and set his arms on the table, his expression thoughtful. “I met a girl long ago. On the verge of becoming a wraith. Beautiful girl, too. Maybe seventeen years old. She wanted shelter, but I couldn’t give it to her. It was too dangerous for me. It hurt to send her away. Before she left, she told me that the lover-boy who had drained her nearly out of existence had left her for another girl. She was looking for him. Desperate to find him. She loved him completely. Even after he had stolen almost all her life essence, she still craved him. Loved him. She said he had told her he loved her, needed her, and swore to protect her. Yet, he had moved on the second he found a fresh young woman who had fallen astray of a dead spot.”

  Shaping another beer, Mackenzie cracked it open and took a deep swallow. “What happened to her?”

  “Don’t know. She moved on. I suspect she became a wraith. Or maybe she found him and he took the last of her life. She might be a ghost now. Of course, what I’d really like to believe is that she found a way out.” Seth stared somberly at the journal. “I like to believe in happy endings.”

  “The mark that Grant put on me, Seth … can you take it off?” It was a question she’d been dreading asking, for she feared she already knew the answer.

  With a sorrowful sigh, Seth shook his head. “No, I don’t how. Honestly, the people I’ve met who had a mark didn’t even know they had it, so it’s not like they were trying to get rid of it. I realized over time that all the victims of the lovers always have that same mark. I told Lucas I believe it’s how the lovers always track down their victims. But how to get rid of it? No clue. Maybe if you can make a dream palace, secure it real tight, you can keep him out. Or you may just have to keep on the run and keep killing him.”

  Mackenzie bit her bottom lip, nodding. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

  “So we get out of here and we don’t have to worry about it,” Lucas said in a firm tone.

  “Dinner is almost ready. Can you get the boy cleaned up, Mackenzie?” Rosita called out from behind the screen door.

  “Sure. I’ll get Johnny.”

  Abandoning her half-empty beer for Lucas to finish off, she hurried across the porch and out into the yard. Johnny was fast asleep, his lips parted slightly as he snored. The dog slept beside him, curled with her tail over her nose. It took a little bit of work to wake him enough to get him on his feet. The little boy stumbled like a drunken sailor, much to Mackenzie’s amusement. When they slipped inside the house, Lucas and Seth were still chatting.

  Once the child was more alert, Johnny banished her from the bathroom so he could wash up and get ready to eat. His toothless smile and giggling made her grin when he pushed her out the door.

  “I need privacy!” he said firmly.

  “Fine! Fine … I’ll be downstairs.”

  Mackenzie smirked when Johnny slammed the door shut. Returning downstairs, she could hear Lucas and Seth still talking outside. Their voices wafted in through the open windows in the dining room.

  “… you have a chance here, Lucas. Don’t throw it away,” Seth was saying.

  “It’s not like that with me and Mackenzie. We just barely met. I like her a lot. She’s my friend. I trust her, but I’m not going to build a dream palace and lock myself away with her and Johnny.”

  “How long will you waste time looking for a way out instead of making a life here?” Seth asked pointedly.

  “It’s not wasting time. I’ll find a way out, Seth.”

  Mackenzie felt awkward listening in, yet she couldn’t help herself. Her head was still buzzing from the beer and curiosity got the best of her.

  “You haven’t died yet. You can build a dream palace and she’s still strong enough to help you hold it. Even if she does have the mark, maybe you can keep him out.”

  “That’s not on the table with us. We want to get out of here.”

  “What about Johnny? That little boy still has a chance to be happy. He’s still full of innocence and life. He doesn’t have a mark despite all his deaths. There’s no wraith after him. If you don’t want to create a safe place for the boy, I’m offering to take him in.”

  Lucas took a long time in responding. “If Johnny wanted to stay with you, I would respect that. Trust me. I don’t want to put him in any more danger.”

  “What about Mackenzie, Lucas? She deserves better than traveling through the nightmares of others.”

  “Mackenzie and I know we want out. Frankly, Seth, none of my former companions have her toughness. Have you looked at her yet as a seer? She’s raw energy. Pure strength. Hell, she doesn’t even need me. She could easily take care of herself and the boy. I’m lucky she wants me along.”

  Lifting her hands to her swimming head, Mackenzie found it difficult to accept Lucas’s description of her. For so long, she had felt empty and lifeless, yet she had to admit she did feel more alive these last few days than she had in a long time.

  “Listen to yourself, Lucas. You really like this girl. This is your chance for happiness. Make a life with her and the boy,” Seth said insistently.

  “Can you help me set the table?” Rosita stood in the doorway to the kitchen. “The biscuits are almost ready and I don’t want them to burn.”

  “Of course!” Mackenzie felt herself blushing, embarrassed about being caught eavesdropping. Hurrying into the kitchen, she washed her hands and helped Rosita.

  Dinner was delicious and the conversation was light. The heavier topics of the day were banished, and Seth spent a good amount of time talking to Johnny about their mutual love of the Old West. Lucas joined in the conversation, but his lightheartedness seemed a bit artificial. A few times she caught him watching Johnny with a hint of sadness in his eyes.

  As for Mackenzie, she regarded the scene around her with a detached sense of reality. Knowing th
at the pretty young woman at the end of the table was a creation of a heartbroken husband wearing the guise of a young man and that the house around her was a construct of someone’s dreams was a reminder of the temptation to hide away in a dream palace with an idealized version of Tanner and their baby. Six months ago she would have immediately created one.

  The rest of the evening was spent on the porch enjoying the fireflies zooming through the night. Johnny played with his toys until he fell asleep on the lawn again. Rosita carried him upstairs to bed, leaving Mackenzie to ponder all she had learned. Seth and Lucas chatted about cars while she stared up at the stars and wondered if the world of dreams and nightmares hovered in a universe as vast as the one the real world existed within.

  “Does time have real meaning here?” she asked, interrupting them.

  “What do you mean?” Seth asked.

  “None of us age. We don’t grow older, or mature. We just remain stagnant day to day unless we die and come back renewed. So do these days match the days on the other side? If we get out of here, will the same amount of days have passed? Or will it be a hundred years in the future there? Will we suddenly age and turn to dust? Are we even real anymore?”

  Seth’s mouth dropped open while Lucas just chuckled.

  Mackenzie arched an eyebrow at Lucas. “What’s so funny?”

  “Does it matter?” Lucas asked.

  She frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

  “If we escape this world and return to the world of the living and suddenly drop dead, does it matter? Would you rather stay here and possibly die over and over again, or take the risk?” Lucas shrugged his shoulders, his foot resting on the porch railing, rocking back and forth in his chair. “As for if we’re real anymore or not, who knows? We can’t know any of those answers, can we? It’s not like someone has left this world and come back to give us all the juicy details. Hell, when I get out, I will never enter another abandoned building so long as I live.”

  “But she has a point, Lucas. What if this is your world now? You’re almost a god here. You can have anything you want,” Seth said vehemently. “Can’t you see that?”