by Lori Drake
19
By the time Joey was finished explaining the complicated tale of Micah and Roger’s deaths, Chris was lightheaded with anger. It went well with his raging headache and aching ribs. Ben had him in a chair and was once again attempting to wrap a pressure bandage around him.
Chris wasn’t as surprised to find out about Micah’s murder as he would have been if Itsuo hadn’t already tipped him off about Eric’s history of killing off rivals. Eric’s pack took the news pretty well, all things considered, but that solidarity Eric had been expecting didn’t materialize.
“Don’t look at me like that. You know everything I do is for you,” Eric insisted, meeting their eyes one by one until they all looked away. All but Itsuo and Jessica, anyway.
“Now what?” Brandon asked, but it was Chris he looked to rather than his Alpha. “What do we do now?”
Chris sat there awkwardly for a moment. At least the question didn’t send Eric off on a tirade again. “Now we need to decide what to do about Roger.”
“He still wants to kill us, right?” Jessica asked. Her voice was rough; Chris imagined her throat was pretty swollen, if the marks on her neck were any indication.
Chris deferred to Joey on that count. She nodded. “Yes. I tried to reason with him, but he’s not exactly sane. Ghosts aren’t rational beings. They’re powered by emotion, and all he has left is anger and hate.”
“Then we have to end him,” Jessica concluded. The others nodded along with her, some with more obvious reluctance than others. “It sucks that there’s no other way, but it is what it is.”
Chris caught Joey’s eyes, wishing there were another way. She nodded to him, as if understanding even though he hadn’t voiced the thought. That was just how they’d always been—the last few months notwithstanding. In perfect sync. It was nice to be back there again.
Ben finished up the bandage and secured it with several flimsy metal clips, then passed Chris his shirt. Chris put it on as quickly as he could without injuring himself further. Even with the fire going, it was still damn cold in the house. Once his head popped through the neck hole, he said, “Okay, then we need to start by burning the body.”
“Salting and burning the body,” Joey corrected, from her position on the sofa by Jenny’s feet. “This could get nasty, because you can be damn sure Roger’s going to try and stop us.”
Chris nodded and surveyed the walking wounded. “Adam and Lucy should stay with Jenny.” He couldn’t quite bear the thought of breaking up the twins. Whatever happened, they had to stick together.
“I’m fine. I can go,” Brandon said.
Ben said, “Me too. And don’t tell me to stay with the wounded. Everyone’s triaged. It’s fine.”
Colt unfolded himself from his seat on the floor and stood. It was a vast improvement from staring into the fire. “I’ll go.”
“I’m in,” Jessica said.
Joey looked Jessica over. “Are you sure?”
Jessica nodded tightly. “I’m sure.”
“Okay,” Joey said. “So, that’s me and Ben, Colt, Jessica, and Brandon. That should be enough.”
Chris pushed to his feet. “I’m going.” He ignored Joey’s pointed frown. She wasn’t the boss of him.
“That’s not a good idea, bro.” Ben put a hand on Chris’s shoulder and tried to push him back down into the chair.
Chris held his ground. “I said I’m going, okay? I’m going to see this through.”
“What about me?” Eric said. “You can’t just leave me tied up in here.”
Chris hesitated, considering. Eric was a formidable fighter, but he was a complete wild card. He could just as easily betray them and stab someone in the back as he could help.
“All in favor of Eric staying?” Joey asked. Every person from Team Body Burning raised their hand.
“Do we get a vote?” Lucy asked, eyeing Eric with the wariness one might a coiled serpent.
“Fuck you all. I hope you die out there,” Eric spat, glaring around the room.
Jessica walked over and grabbed a handful of Eric’s hair. She yanked his head back and leaned down, putting her face close to his. “You’d better hope not, because if we do, Roger’s coming for you, and you’re going to have to just sit here and take it.”
Eric glared up at her in silence. There was some pretty intense eye contact, but Jessica didn’t back down. After a few seconds, she released his hair from her grip, then turned to go. But at the last moment, she seemed to change her mind, and spun, punching him in the abdomen beneath the mass of ropes crossing his torso. The chair slid backward several inches.
“That’s for Micah,” she said, and walked away.
They collected their coats and the key from Eric, then headed out back to the shed, with a side trip to the kitchen for salt and lighter fluid.
The stench of death and decay was just as terrific as Chris had remembered. He focused on breathing through his mouth and held on to the supplies while the others dragged the tarp-wrapped body out of the shed and over to the fire pit some distance from the house.
“You haven’t ever burned bodies out here, have you?” Chris asked out of morbid curiosity.
“Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies,” Jessica rasped, but laughed hoarsely in response to the look he gave her afterward. “No, of course not.”
“Didn’t seem like a silly question to me,” Chris mumbled, ducking his chin to try and keep the cold wind from blowing down his coat’s upturned collar.
Once the body was in position, they unwrapped the tarp to expose it. It didn’t look any better than it smelled, bloated, rotting flesh teeming with maggots. Chris’s stomach heaved, but he made himself look. It was something he’d never be able to un-see, but it was important to him. A reminder of the depths to which someone could sink. But as he studied the corpse, he saw something wasn’t right.
“Wait,” he said, tightening his hold on the canister of salt when Joey tried to take it from him. She gave him a questioning look. “I don’t… I mean, I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I don’t think this is Roger.”
“How do you know what Roger looks like?” Joey asked, as everyone crowded closer for a better look.
“He attacked us in the woods. I got a pretty good look at him while he was trying to chew my face off.”
“Hell’s bells.” Colt’s stunned words drew everyone’s attention. “That’s Kate’s ex.”
Jessica groaned. “Son of a bitch. He dug up the wrong body.” She turned and stalked for the shed.
“Where are you going?” Chris asked.
“To get a shovel,” Jessica croaked.
Chris met Joey’s eyes briefly, then Joey hurried after Jessica while the others lingered by the fire pit.
Meanwhile, Colt scratched his head. “Why was Kate’s ex buried in the woods?”
“I think the better question might be how many more bodies are buried in the woods,” Ben said quietly, glancing toward the trees.
“This thing isn’t going to go all Romero on us, is it?” Brandon asked. “Like Kate, eh?”
Chris gave the bottle of lighter fluid a little shake to gauge how much was in it, then stepped forward and squirted a healthy dose on the rotting corpse. Ben caught on and lit a match, tossing it down once Chris was done. They all stepped back and watched the flames dance in the cold night air.
How had Kate’s ex ended up buried in the woods? As much as he hated to even think it, Chris was starting to get an idea of just how Eric had bound his pack to him so tightly.
“You should know… he tried to kill you,” Brandon said.
His train of thought derailed, Chris looked up and met Brandon’s eyes across the fire. “Me?”
Brandon lowered his eyes, but nodded. “In the woods, earlier. Eric knew full well you were possessed, but he wasn’t pulling any punches. He was smiling while he did it, like he was glad for the opportunity.”
Chris thought back to the way Eric had clobbered Brandon with the shovel. H
e hadn’t been pulling any punches then, either. “You stopped him?”
Brandon shrugged. “Yeah. He wasn’t happy about it, either. Threats were made, but fuck him. I’m so over his shit.”
Ben slipped an arm around Brandon and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “That’s my boy.”
Chris could swear he saw Brandon blush by the light of the fire. He curled an arm around Ben’s waist, but looked over at Chris again. “Just watch your back, eh? He wants you gone, and he’s used to getting what he wants.”
Chris nodded. “Noted, thanks.”
When Joey and Jessica returned with the shovels, they all headed into the woods, with Jessica in the lead. Colt followed her, with Chris and Joey behind him. Ben and Brandon brought up the rear. Chris itched to check his phone, wondering what time it was, but between the salt, lighter fluid, and holding Joey’s hand, his hands were full. He wasn’t about to set any of those aside, not now. The sky remained pitch black, twinkling stars aside. The moon hung low on the horizon, all but invisible to the naked eye. He didn’t have to look; he could sense it as usual. Its waning power coursed through him. He wished it were fuller, so he’d heal faster. At least he could breathe a little easier now. He’d consider that a win at this point.
Insisting on going along may not have been his wisest move, but he needed to see this through. Beyond his concern for Joey and Ben, he felt uncomfortably responsible for this pack of misfits. Even though most of them had never met Henry Martin, it was still his father’s pack. What remained of it.
He sighed, and Joey squeezed his hand and flashed him a supportive, if grim, smile. She couldn’t have known what was on his mind, but he appreciated the support nonetheless. He squeezed back.
The path Jessica took was much less circuitous than the one Eric had.
“Do you suppose Eric walked us in circles to stall for time, or because he couldn’t remember where Roger was buried?” Brandon asked, echoing Chris’s own thoughts.
“Maybe a little of both,” Chris said, scanning the trees as he walked. After what’d happened last time in the woods with Roger, he was on high alert.
“He’s a real piece of work,” Ben muttered, almost too quietly for Chris to make out.
“Shut up,” Jessica said. “I’m concentrating.”
They walked for a few more minutes in silence before Jessica stopped and pointed with her shovel. “There.”
The ground was almost level. The only reason Chris could tell there was a slight mound was because he was looking for it. The other grave had been the same: no more than the barest hint of a mound. It was the smart way to do it, for sure. After all, you didn’t want anyone stumbling across an unmarked grave in the woods. Again, Chris wondered just how many were out here.
Colt took Jessica’s shovel and started to work. Joey joined him, while everyone else stood back. Jessica and Ben watched the digging, but Chris noticed Brandon keeping as wary an eye on their surroundings as he was. He felt a sort of kinship with the mild-mannered Canadian. They’d been through something together, after all. He was glad Brandon had found Ben, and vice versa. In time, hopefully Brandon’s concerns would fade.
Brandon and Jessica relieved Colt and Joey after they’d made a foot or so of progress. When Joey returned to stand with him, she smelled like sweat and dirt. He pulled her into a one-armed hug anyway. He couldn’t smell much better, after the unexpectedly adventurous night he’d had.
“Shouldn’t have too much farther to go,” he said.
Joey nodded and leaned against him. She was probably as tired as he was. He’d barely slept the night before, and now, well, that catnap he’d managed before Jessica woke him earlier couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes. He yawned, but kept his eyes and ears peeled for any sign of danger.
When that sign came, he nearly missed it because it was right under his nose. The temperature dropped sharply enough that his breath misted in the night air. A chill ran down his spine and he tightened his hold on Joey. She tipped her head back. He could feel her eyes on him even though he didn’t look down.
“He’s here,” Chris said.
Jessica and Brandon continued flinging shovels full of dirt onto the growing pile. More quickly, if anything. Joey gave Chris a squeeze and slipped away, putting a little distance between them. It was probably a good idea, in case Roger decided to take one of them over.
When all this is over, I’m going to have a chat with Dean about however he protects himself against possession.
Seconds passed, but no one made any sudden moves or violent overtures. There was nothing but the sound of shoveling until the whispers started.
“Turn back.”
Chris spun at the words spoken behind him, but there was no one there. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as another whisper followed the first, off to his left. Then to the right. Soon, the words were whispered from all around, and he covered his ears with his hands in a futile attempt to block them out.
Someone shrieked. Jessica. She flung the shovel aside like it was on fire, scrambled out of the half-dug grave, and backed away from it swiftly.
“What is it?” Joey asked, stepping forward. Jessica grabbed her and pulled her back, but whatever reply she might have made was lost on Chris. He couldn’t hear over all the voices.
“Knock it off!” he called, which drew the others’ attention his way, but there was only confusion on their faces. “You can’t hear it?”
“Hear what?” Ben asked.
Chris shook his head in an effort to clear it, but the voices kept chanting in his ears. More and more voices joined the fray, some saying different things like some sort of twisted round-robin chant. “Turn back. Go away. Run away, little wolf. Die. Die. Die.”
He was dimly aware of Jessica trying to get Brandon to come out of the grave. Brandon kept digging, a stubborn cast to his jaw.
Fog began to gather around Chris’s feet. It flowed out of the trees and spilled over the edge of the hole in the ground to pool there. Then a hand emerged from the fog and grabbed Chris’s ankle.
“Shit!” He tried to yank his foot away, but it held fast. A frantic glance told him that he wasn’t the only one. Everyone outside the hole was either evading or caught by a phantom hand.
Chris balanced on his captured foot and tried to stomp on whatever that hand was attached to. An inhuman shriek filled his ears. He wasn’t sure if that was an improvement over the whispering. However, something did come of it: the hand released him, and he skittered a few feet away.
Now freed, he was able to take in what was going on with the others. Jessica had been caught, but Joey had jumped forward and grabbed Jessica’s discarded shovel. Her lips set in a thin line, she walked back over and brought the business end of the shovel down hard beside Jessica’s foot. The fog parted as the shovel passed through it, then crowded in once more.
Brandon kept digging. The fog filled the hole by now. He was up to his thighs in it. How could he even see what he was doing? Still, he dug, features set in determination.
Jessica screamed and pulled against the fingers coiled around her ankle to no avail, eyes wide in terror and locked on Joey as she swung the shovel again and again. Chris hurried over and slid his arms under Jessica’s, then gave her a solid yank and managed to tug her free. She fell back against him, then scrambled away, taking in short, panicked breaths.
Joey made for the hole and jumped in. Ignoring the unnatural fog that now swirled around her waist, she plunged the shovel into the mist and resumed digging alongside Brandon. Once Joey had moved off, Jessica’s screams subsided. Eyes wide, she gulped in air like it was in short supply. Her eyes darted this way and that, while her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides.
“This isn’t real,” Jessica whispered, repeating the words over and over like a mantra.
Chris took a step closer to her. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, and while he wasn’t convinced, he was willing to accept it. He backtracked to retrieve the salt and
lighter fluid from where he’d dropped them. As he bent down, something flew over his head, close enough that it stirred his hair in its passing. Instinct took over, and Chris flattened himself against the ground. His battered ribcage protested mightily, and it took him a few moments to catch his breath again.
As he lay there, an angry caw pierced the night and another dark shape swooped down, this time diving at Joey. It was a bird, this much he could tell, as it flapped its wings, talons curling in an effort to scratch her face. She swatted it away impatiently and it flew off, but circled around and dove again. This time she was ready, and swung the shovel at it. The shovel connected with a thud and crunch, and the bird went sailing off to land in the fog. It didn’t emerge again.
Chris got to his feet with the ritual components. More hands reached out of the fog for him, but he was light on his feet and dodged them.
“Chris!” Joey waved a hand to him. “We’re breaking through!”
Chris hurried over with the household items in hand. He peeked over the edge of the grave but saw nothing but fog inside. “How can you tell?”
Joey scraped the shovel along the bottom of the hole, demonstrating the telltale crinkle of a cheap plastic tarp. “A better question might be how are we going to make sure it’s the right guy?”
“It has to be the right guy,” Brandon said. “He’s trying to make us stop.”
“Good point,” Chris said, and popped open the salt.
“Hang on, not quite ready yet,” Joey said, going back to scraping at the bottom of the hole and occasionally shoveling out some more dirt to add to the pile.
Or, at least, she did until the shovel flew out of her hands.
“Hey!” she exclaimed.
The shovel landed some ten feet off, disappearing into the fog. Colt sprinted for it, but Chris’s attention was drawn to Brandon, who had managed to hold on to his shovel and was now engaged in some sort of phantom tug o’ war. He must not have been on very steady ground, because he slid forward some, losing ground. Joey made a grab for him, but their invisible foe twisted the shovel suddenly and gave it a push. The end of the handle took Brandon in the chest, and the momentum drove him back into Joey. They both tumbled down into the mist-filled grave.