by Ron Ripley
Chapter 56: Breakfast with the Crew, May 4th, 2016
Brian worked on his third cup of coffee while Shane finished another shot of whiskey. The man drank the liquor like a fish, and Brian wondered why.
Jacob sat on the back steps. Brian had given him a cigar, and the rich tobacco smoke drifted into the kitchen through the screen door. It was a good smell. And the man, so far out of time and place, was happy.
“How many eggs did he eat?” Shane asked.
“Eight,” Brian said. “Told me they tasted even better than he remembered.”
“Damn,” Shane said, shaking his head. “Eight?”
“Yeah,” Brian said, grinning. “Finished off half a rack of bacon, too. Plus, a whole pot of coffee. Thought for sure he’d pop.”
“Still might,” Shane said with a smile. “That cigar might do the trick.”
Brian chuckled. “True. Very true.”
“So,” Shane said, his voice becoming serious, “when do you want to take care of Mr. Josephus Wahlen?”
“Just as soon as I can figure out how to do it,” Brian said. “I don’t want to try and bind him. I want him destroyed. Completely.”
“Sounds good to me,” Shane said. “From what I could see, he was bad news.”
Brian could only nod. He had a sudden urge to drink and to light up a cigar. But didn’t succumb to the desire. Jenny would be too upset with him. Especially after everything she had gone through to help him.
“You okay?” Shane asked.
“Yeah,” Brian said. “Just frustrated with everything.”
“We’ll take care of it,” Shane said. “We’ll take care of all of it. Don’t worry.”
“Thanks,” Brian said. He drank the rest of his coffee, considered a fourth cup and then pushed the mug away from him. Too much caffeine wouldn’t be good for him either.
The back door opened, and Jacob walked in, smiling broadly. He winced slightly, paused, and then came the rest of the way into the kitchen.
“You alright?” Shane asked.
“Little bit of indigestion,” Jacob said. He pulled a chair out and sat down at the table. “Still want to eat everything I see.”
“Don’t think your stomach would appreciate that,” Brian said.
“No,” Jacob agreed. “I would still enjoy the hell out of the meal, though.”
A loud squeak sounded from the ceiling and both Jacob and Shane looked up.
“The shower,” Brian said. “Makes a racket when you turn it off.”
“Didn’t notice last night,” Shane said.
“Neither did I,” Jacob said, chuckling.
Brian smiled at the two men and realized he felt safe. He looked at Shane and Jacob and asked, “Either of you want more coffee?”
Chapter 57: Runnels Ridge Road, May 4th, 2016
Neal Lars served as Mont Vernon’s part-time policeman, and it was a job he loved. He had spent most of his childhood as the butt of other people’s jokes. Neal had filled out, in both height and weight after high school, and after a few years on a lobster boat out of Bar Harbor, the weight had become muscle. He had taken a few night classes in criminal justice, gotten his associates degree, and then he had landed the Mont Vernon job.
Granted, it was only part-time, and the rest of his income was supplemented as a delivery man for the MV Lumber Yard, but he got to wear a badge. The gun wasn’t anything to him. He’d had a license to ‘carry concealed’ since he was twenty-one.
Neal liked to use his hands. They were rough and calloused from years of hauling lumber, and he enjoyed locking his fingers around a perpetrator’s wrist. He knew how to apply just enough pressure with his thumb to bring a big man down to the ground.
And nothing, absolutely nothing was as much fun as when he got to do it to someone who had picked on him. More often than not, they didn’t recognize him. His face was broader, and he had grown a thick, dark brown mustache. Lars was a common name in the area as well, so there wasn’t anyone who would have associated him with the skinny little runt they had all bullied in school.
Neal remembered them all. Every, single, one.
The weekend before, Neal had even gotten a hold of Jeff Perkins. Perkins had tormented Neal all the way from the third to the sixth grade. Perkins had moved out of the area, down to Boston and started up a law firm after college.
Perkins’ mother, who had been a sweet lady, had died. He was up for the funeral and gotten a little drunk at the Leap Café. Neal had waited two hours in the parking lot for Perkins to stumble out of the bar. Arrested him on the spot for public drunkenness. Perkins had even swung at Neal. A shame, too. Perkins had been forced to have his eyes flushed out after a good dose of pepper spray.
Neal was thinking fondly on the arrest when he caught sight of a man walking strangely down the side of the road. The man was dressed in expensive running clothes, but he was filthy, covered not only in dirt and mud, but what looked like blood, as well. When Neal passed by him, the man looked like he was in shock.
Neal flipped on his hazards, pulled over to the side of the road and took his portable radio down from the dashboard.
“State Dispatch, this is Officer Neal Lars in Mont Vernon.”
“Go ahead, Officer Lars,” a man responded. “This is dispatch.”
“Could you send an ambulance to one-zero-zero Runnels Ridge Road, I’ve got a pedestrian who looks like he took a fall somewhere,” Neal said. “Going to talk to him now.”
“Copy, Officer Lars,” the dispatcher said. “We’ll send an ambulance your way. You in your patrol car?”
“Negative,” Neal said. “Got the delivery truck. Hazards on.”
“Good, copy. Dispatch out.”
Neal put the radio back and got out of the truck.
The battered man continued to walk, weaving slightly as he did so.
“Sir,” Neal said, smiling. “Sir, are you okay?”
The man stopped, returned Neal’s smile and said, “Why yes. Yes, I am. Why do you ask?”
“You look like you may have fallen down,” Neal said, taking a cautious step towards the stranger. “What’s your name?”
The man blinked, his smile faltering briefly before he said, “Dylan.”
“Dylan,” Neal said, walking a little closer. “My name is Officer Lars. I’d like you to take a seat on the side of the road here, okay? I’d like to have an ambulance check you out.”
Dylan looked confused, his head tilted to the right.
Looks like he’s listening to someone, Neal thought. He hadn’t seen a blue-tooth in the man’s ear.
After a moment, Dylan said, “I am not in need of medical assistance. Please, allow me to continue on.”
Another step towards Dylan showed Neal the man’s eyes. The pupils fluctuated rapidly, growing and shrinking at an astonishing pace.
Something’s wrong here, Neal thought. He reached down and loosened his can of pepper spray in its holster.
“Dylan,” Neal said, keeping his voice low and relaxed. “I really need you to sit down now.”
Dylan smiled and said, “No.”
Even as Neal began to pull the pepper spray free, Dylan leaped forward, smashing a fist squarely into Neal’s nose. Neal staggered back, pain exploding in his head and his eyes tearing up instantly. Blood poured down from both nostrils and Neal instantly knew the punch had broken his nose. His vision was blurry as he got the pepper spray free, but a second punch landed on his bicep and caused his arm to go numb. A third blow crashed into his solar plexus, and Neal crashed to the asphalt.
Gasping for breath, he tried to sit up, but Dylan kicked him in the head. The world went black, and Neal heard Dylan step over him. Pain dominated his thoughts as the truck's engine roared into life.
Chapter 58: Forced into Action
Do it! Josephus screamed, battering Dylan’s cowering spirit.
Timidly, the man crept forward to take partial control of his own body.
Where? Dylan whispered.
Jose
phus hesitated, dug through his memories and searched for what he had heard of Brian Roy.
Can you find someone named Roy? Josephus snapped after a moment.
Yes, Dylan said.
Then do it, Josephus commanded. He settled back and watched with a small amount of interest as Dylan operated the traveling machine.
Josephus moved excitedly within Dylan’s small mind, and smiled, eager to find Brian.
Chapter 59: At the Roy Residence, 9:00 AM, May 4th, 2016
“I think I found something,” Brian said.
Jenny came into his small office. “What?”
Brian looked up from his computer. “Little bit of folklore here. It’s shown up on a couple different websites. We have to find Josephus’ remains.”
Jenny frowned. “What do we do when we have them?”
“Salt them and burn them,” Brian answered. “Once they’re burned, and we scatter the ashes, he won’t be able to manifest in our world again.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Well,” Brian said, sighing, “we won’t know for sure if the lore’s true until we do it.”
“How the hell do we find out where his remains are?” Jenny said.
Jacob and Shane walked to the doorway and looked in.
“Who’s remains?” Shane asked.
“Josephus’,” Brian said, and he quickly repeated what he had read.
“I know where they are,” Jacob said after a moment.
Everyone looked at the man.
He smiled harshly. “Spent a lot of time wandering around. They’re by a stream that cuts through the hill. Hell of a hard place to get to. You have to crawl on your belly for a while to reach it. I can get there. But the three of you, you’re all a little too sturdy.”
“Fine with me,” Jenny said. “I’ve got no desire to try and crawl through a tunnel to find his bones.”
“It’s not a tunnel,” Jacob said. “Just a little passage. And it’s dark as all hell. The only reason I know they’re his is because the ghost of a young girl told me. We’ll need to bring a light, and probably a bag. Don’t want to burn the cave down with me inside.”
Brian nodded. “I’m sure we have everything we need right here. And if we don’t, we’ll stop at a store.”
“Do you hear something?” Shane asked, turning towards the window.
Brian listened closely, and he heard the sound of an engine. A big old Hemi, if the rumble was any indication.
Jenny walked over, pulled the curtain back and said, “There’s a white pickup truck out at the end of the driveway.” She let the fabric go and turned back to Brian. “Probably lost.”
“Just so long as they’re not selling anything,” Brian said. “Anyway, where were we?”
“Getting what we need to roast Josephus’ bones,” Jacob said.
“Right,” Brian said, nodding. “Let’s figure all of that out ahead of time.”
The others gathered around the desk, and together they began to work on a plan.
Chapter 60: Neal’s Truck, 9:05 AM, May 4th, 2016
Josephus had shoved Dylan back into a dark corner; the man’s simpering was far too annoying to deal with. Josephus didn’t need him anymore. He had watched the way the man had operated the ‘truck,’ and he knew what to do. At least for the purpose he had in mind.
All Josephus had to do was step on the right pedal, hold onto the ‘steering wheel’ and aim the truck to where he wanted to go.
He would have no need for the left pedal.
He wasn’t going to stop.
As he waited at the end of the driveway, he saw a curtain drawn away from a window, and then put back into place.
They believed him to be in Wood’s Cemetery. In the Paupers' Crypt, to be exact.
Josephus smiled. He would enjoy their surprise, almost as much as he would relish their horror when he had them. The thought of it sent a thrill through him, and Dylan’s body reacted the way Josephus’ own flesh had, long ago. Before his imprisonment.
Anger flared at the memory, and he fought to retain control of himself.
He would punish them soon enough. Perhaps, if he was lucky, he might even get his hands upon the wretch Jacob, who had avoided him for so many years.
Josephus looked at the house and decided where he would strike.
Chapter 61: Guests Arrive, 9:10 AM, May 4th, 2016
“Hello.”
Jenny dropped her coffee mug and bit back a curse as it shattered on the floor.
Thankfully, it was empty. Unlike the kitchen, which now had Leo standing by the pantry. His form seemed much thinner. Jenny could see through him easier than usual.
“Leo,” Jenny said, taking the dustpan and brush out of the cabinet below the sink. “How are you?”
“Tired,” Leo said, a confused look on his face. “And I am not quite certain how I can be tired.”
“Why not?” she asked, getting down on her knees to sweep shards of the mug out from under the cabinet’s overhang.
“I am dead,” Leo replied. “Therefore, I should not be tired. Then again, it does raise the entire question of how I exist outside of life, as we know it.”
Jenny was going to cut him off, but she didn’t have to. Sylvia appeared, and she quieted Leo with a hand on his shoulder.
“Hello, Sylvia,” Jenny said, smiling up at her.
Sylvia returned the smile and said, “Hello, Jenny. I’m sorry Leo scared you.”
“I’m just surprised I can still be scared,” Jenny said. She cleaned up the last of the broken mug, stood up and threw the remains out. She put the dustpan and brush away and looked at Sylvia. “I’m glad you came by.”
“It’s not a social visit, I’m afraid,” Sylvia said sadly. “I can’t stay very long. I used a lot of my strength yesterday. But there’s something wrong. We went back to the cemetery this morning.”
“And Josephus Wahlen is not there,” Leo said. “He has left the place.”
“What?” Jenny said, looking from one ghost to the other. “Hold on. Let me get everyone else.”
“No time,” Sylvia said, her form fading in and out rapidly. “Listen, we think he may have managed to possess someone.”
“What?” Jenny asked, horrified. “What do you mean by possess?”
“He has taken over someone’s body,” Leo said.
Why?” Jenny asked.
“We think he might be looking for Brian,” Sylvia said. “You need to be careful. Both of you. We’ll let you know where he is as soon as we can. Just be safe, Jenny.”
As Jenny nodded, both Sylvia and Leo shimmered, and then they vanished.
Jenny suddenly became aware of the noise of her own heart, the way it thudded in her chest. Her vision blurred for a moment, then returned to normal. She felt a sickening fear and she hurried out of the kitchen.
She ran to the study and found all three men still there. Brian was in his chair, Shane sat by the desk and Jacob stood against the near wall, arms folded over his chest. Each of them looked to her, smiles on their faces.
Whatever expression they saw on her face caused the joy to leave theirs.
“Babe,” Brian said, standing up quickly. “What’s wrong?”
Before she could answer, an explosion of sound ripped through the air and the house shook. Jenny could hear breaking glass and shattering wood.
And mixed in with it, the roaring of an engine.
“The truck,” she said, but no one heard her.
Brian was up and out of his chair as Shane and Jacob raced past her, Brian followed a moment later. Jenny stood there, alone and stunned.
Then one word leaped into her mind.
Possession.
Instead of turning to leave the study, she ran to Brian’s desk.
Chapter 62: Help Arrives, 9:15 AM, May 4th, 2016
Neal realized he must have blacked out.
Cindy Ford was kneeling beside him, prying open his right eye and checking his pupils.
“Hey there, Neal,” she sa
id, smiling down at him and speaking in the professional tone he had heard more than once. “Can you tell me what happened?”
It took him a moment, but Neal finally gathered his thoughts and told her.
She nodded, looked across from him to Timmy White, who slipped a pressure cuff around Neal’s bicep.
“Okay, Neal,” she said, still smiling, “you know the drill. What’s your last name?”
“Lars,” Neal said hoarsely.
“Birthday?” she asked.
Neal opened his mouth, and then he closed it. He couldn’t remember his birthday.
“Oh Christ,” he spat. “A god-damned head injury.”
“It’s alright,” she said soothingly. “It’s alright. Relax for me, alright?”
“BP just spiked, Cindy,” Timmy said.
She nodded.
Another person arrived on the scene, and Neal heard a car door slam shut. Trooper Henry Martini jogged into view and came to squat down by him.
“Hey Neal,” the younger man said. “Why don’t you give me a description of the perp?”
Neal closed his eyes and realized he could picture Dylan perfectly. He couldn’t remember his birthday, but he sure as hell could remember him. And he told Henry all about the man.
Chapter 63: The Accident, 9:15 AM, May 4th, 2016
Brian looked into the parlor from the hallway and couldn’t believe what he saw.
The front end of a pickup truck had smashed into the house. Debris was scattered everywhere, and the engine whined and spat. The horn blasted, and dust plaster hung heavy in the air. A figure was slumped over the steering wheel.
In a second, Brian and Jacob were climbing over broken furniture and shattered walls. Brian could hear Shane on the phone, calling in the accident. Jacob reached the truck’s door and forced it open. Brian slipped past him, reached under the steering column, found the keys and turned off the engine. Blood dripped down from the driver’s head, and the man looked beat to hell.
Jacob scrambled over to the other side of the pickup, pulled the passenger’s side door open, and got in.