SLEEPY HOLLOW: General of the Dead (Jason Crane Book 3)

by Gleaves, Richard

  Joey drew the line at outing Zef. “You’d have to ask her.”

  “But we can’t, can we?

  “Then ask Zef. Jason wasn’t responsible.”

  “But he wasn’t upset about it.”

  “No.”

  “Does Kate return Jason’s interest?”

  “Yeah. They were supposed to meet…”

  “Speak up, please.”

  “They were supposed to meet last night. She invited him here for….”

  Mather raised an eyebrow. “Sex?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. And now Jason’s gone too. I went to his house. His guardian said that—”

  “Zef’s father.”

  “Hadewych said Jason had run away. So maybe they did—together—and didn’t tell me.”

  “But you’re his best friend.”

  “I didn’t hear from either of them. Did Kate leave a note?”

  “She told her father by telephone that he should consider her dead and not to look for her. But he will, of course. He’ll go to the ends of the earth if he—”

  “Damn it!” A male voice thundered through the house. A door slammed, followed by the sound of a loud sneeze. Paul Usher had come home. “Who tracked this dirt in?” Usher sneezed again. “And why does the house smell like smoke?”

  Joey pressed his nose to his shoulder, remembering the cellar and Hadewych. “No way he can smell me.”

  Mather shrugged. “Paul is a most sensitive man.”

  The door flew open. Usher wore a rumpled grey suit and hadn’t shaved. He looked haggard and hungry and irritable. But Joey could still feel the man’s presence and power. Usher always made him think of limousines and flag-pinned lapels. He pressed a handkerchief to his face. “Who is this?”

  “A friend,” said Mather. “He’s been enlightening me.”

  Usher glared down at Joey. “You know where Kate is?”

  Joey sank into his chair. “No.”

  Usher turned to Mather. “Has she called?”

  “No.”

  “So you’re sitting on your asses drinking tea.” Usher picked up a porcelain cup and threw it at the wall, shattering it. “I want my daughter home now.” He calmed himself and smoothed his tangled brown hair.

  Mather removed his blue boutonnière and sniffed it.

  Usher noted the gesture. “He’s one of us?”

  “He is.”

  “What can he do?”

  Mather’s mouth twitched with amusement. “He’s a quadruple threat. He’s an actor, a singer, a dancer, and… he controls dirt.”

  Usher glanced at the carpet where Joey had left tracks. “He’s not controlling it very well, is he? My office. Fifteen minutes.” Usher stormed out.

  “I should go.” Joey rose.

  “Nonsense,” said Mather. “Stay for dinner. We’re just getting to know each other.”

  “I can’t.”

  “I insist. You want our help, don’t you? And with your help we might find Kate, and Jason as well.”

  Joey nodded, giving in. Somewhere beyond the door, Usher fell into a furious bout of sneezing.

  Mather patted Joey’s hand. “But, I think… a shower first?

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Found Footage”

  When Joey emerged, steam cleaned, from Usher’s guest bathroom, his clothes were missing. His wallet and keys lay on the bed next to a uniform like those worn by Usher’s security men. Dark blue tee and slacks, boxers and black socks. Everything exactly his size. As if he’d enlisted, had been given his haircut and fatigues, and was now expected to… obey orders.

  He’d barely dropped his towel and stepped into the boxers when the door opened and Zef walked in. Joey let out a yelp and dove behind the bed. “Can you knock?”

  “You’re still here?” said Zef.

  “Go away. I’m not wearing anything.”

  Zef shut the door and gave a mischievous grin. “I don’t mind.”

  Joey snatched the slacks from the bed. “Ugh. He’s out for twenty-four hours and already he’s a perv. Turn around.”

  “Is that a birthmark?”

  “Turn around.”

  Zef obeyed. “I said check on Kate, not move in here.”

  Joey struggled to get a foot into the pants. Zef flustered him. “I didn’t move in. Mather asked me to help.”

  Zef spun around. “You talked to Mather?”

  Joey threw socks. “About face!”

  “What did you tell him?”

  Joey got his legs into the pants and zipped. “I don’t know. He just… gets you talking.”

  “Did you talk about my dad?”

  “Not yet. But you know he’s behind this.”

  “I guess.”

  “Guess? The Horseman’s Treasure? The attack on Stone Barns? Maybe Usher can stop him.”

  “You know about all that?” Zef’s voice grew pleading. “Don’t say anything.”

  “People are getting killed! Why are you protecting that asshole?”

  “He’s my dad. Can I turn around yet?”

  “Sure.” Joey had pulled his shirt on and didn’t have to hold his gut in anymore. “But you know why I’m changing clothes? Because Usher could still smell the smoke from your dad trying to kill me.”

  “Don’t say anything about him. Please?” Zef sat on the bed. “Not until we find out where Jason and Kate are at least. Paul is freaking out already. He’s got an election in a few months. And… my mom and I don’t have anywhere else to stay.”

  “And whose fault is that? Hadewych’s. It’s always been Hadewych.”

  Zef put his head in his hands. “Do you think he… hurt Jason and Kate?”

  “I don’t know. Probably.” Joey grabbed a comb from the dresser. He watched Zef in the mirror as he tamed his hair. Their eyes met. Joey looked away.

  “Do you still love me?” Zef whispered.

  Joey felt manipulated. “Go to hell.”

  Zef stood. “Do you?”

  “What if I do?”

  “Then keep quiet about my dad.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Just for now. Wait. For me.”

  “That’s all I do. Wait for you.”

  “New Year’s.” Zef took a step. “Remember what you said?”

  Joey backed away. “It’s hazy. I guess you punched it out of me.”

  “Please let that go.”

  “How? I had a bruise the size of Indiana. So whatever I said prior to that is kind of out the window.”

  “‘My name is Joey Osorio,’” Zef said, in the tone of a quotation.

  “What?”

  “‘My name is Joey Osorio and there’s someone here tonight whose pal I’d like to be.’”

  “Don’t.”

  “I need you to be my pal. Right now.”

  “Zef—”

  “What if it were your dad?”

  “My dad would never hurt people.”

  “But if he did, you’d still love him.”

  “Fine, Zef. Fine.” Joey strode to the closet door and pulled it open. “You need a place to stay? There you go. Just your size.”

  “Stop it.”

  “No more secrets. Secrets are poison.”

  “Fine. Do it then! Start World War Three, pal. Don’t mind my feelings.”

  They glared at each other. But something switched off in Zef. His shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry.” He came to Joey, arms open, and embraced him. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Get off me.” Joey didn’t pull away, but he didn’t hug back.

  “You’re right. I’m wrong.” Zef sounded desolate. “I just can’t handle any more. It’s been a… really long day.”

  Joey’s arms came up, hesitantly, across Zef’s back. “I know.”

  Zef gave Joey a little squeeze. “I’ve never hugged you before, have I?”

  “No.”

  “It’s nice.”

  “It’s all right.”

  They swayed together. Joey found his anger evaporating, becoming simple wonder. So
this is what being held by Zef feels like…

  He sighed.

  Yep… I’m gay.

  If he’d ever doubted, there could be no doubt now. His body provided one type of confirmation, and his brain queued up Ethel Merman singing “They Say That Falling in Love is Wonderful” from Annie Get Your Gun. So. He could definitely claim his big pink gay card. He’d produced the two required forms of ID.

  He put his forehead to Zef’s shoulder and accepted the hug. “I do understand. If it was my dad I’d want to… save him myself.”

  “Exactly. Just give me time to save him.”

  Joey raised his head. “My dad needs saving too.”

  “How come?”

  “Never mind. I just… hate secrets.”

  A tear rolled down Zef’s cheek. “I’m trying. I came out. Like I said I would. And now he hates me. My dad hates me. But I did it. I finally did it. And so… everything’s different.” Zef’s hands ran down Joey’s arms. “Everything’s different now…” He drew Joey close, leaning in, and Joey closed his eyes, listening to Ethel sing.

  The door opened. “What’s up?” said Jessica.

  Zef tore away and blurted, “We weren’t doing anything.”

  Jessica looked back and forth between the boys. “Were you—”

  “Joey’s upset about Kate and Jason.” He gave Joey’s shoulder a manly punch. “It’ll be okay, dude. We’ll find them.”

  Jessica frowned. “Paul wants us in his office.”

  “Okay. Yeah. Be right in.”

  “Your little friend, too.” Jessica glanced at Joey once more, turned, and left.

  Seconds passed in silence. The room fell silent. Ethel fell silent. Zef couldn’t look at Joey. Joey couldn’t look at Zef. He found his dirty sneakers and snatched them up.

  “Right,” Joey said as he passed Zef without a glance. “Everything’s different now.”

  Joey and Zef stood in opposite corners of Usher’s office. Joey could feel his jaw clenching, he was so pissed. He made fists, looking anywhere but at Zef. Paul Usher slipped behind his desk, which was raised to intimidate those seated on the other side. Mather wasn’t intimidated by Usher, though. His face held a mixture of respect and amusement, as a lion might regard a lion tamer. Jessica wasn’t intimidated either. Even in shorts and a T-shirt she looked confident and poised. She crossed her legs. When Usher didn’t notice, she scooted her chair back and crossed them again.

  “We’ve solved one mystery at least,” said Usher. “We know what happened to the Crane boy.” He studied their faces. “Not a word leaves this room.” He turned his computer monitor around. “This is camera footage from last night’s… accident… on the Tappan Zee. Zef, can you kill the lights?” They plunged into darkness, their faces made ghostly by the light of the screen. “This is the only copy. God help us if it had ended up on YouTube.”

  Usher started the black-and-white footage rolling. Cars drifted in and out of frame, appearing at lower left and upper right, approaching each other, crossing in the middle, and disappearing again.

  “No sound?” said Jessica.

  “No,” said Usher. “Do you see those flashes? Those are fireworks going off. So even without the time stamp we can pinpoint this pretty accurately. I… I have to warn you all. This won’t be easy to look at.” Something flared brightly and the image distorted. “That was a car exploding.”

  “Jason?” said Zef.

  “No,” said Usher. “A water truck jackknifed. That was a second car running into it. See the girders twisting? The bridge is wrecked already. Four dead. Here’s Jason.”

  A car rushed madly into frame.

  “Pause that,” said Mather. “Its wheels aren’t touching the ground.”

  “What’s holding it up?” said Jessica.

  Usher tapped the screen. A swarm of tiny flecks surrounded the car.

  Zef leaned forward. “Soap bubbles?”

  “Soap bubbles don’t lift cars,” said Jessica.

  “Orbs?” said Mather.

  “Orbs,” said Usher. “Ghosts. Hundreds of them. So this was no accident. It was a supernatural event. That makes it our responsibility. Those spirits were after Jason. Why?”

  “Sie sterben an der Brücke…” Joey whispered.

  “‘You die at the bridge?’” Mather translated. “You know something?”

  “Just show me.” Joey started to shake. “Is he dead?”

  Usher reclined into shadow until only his voice remained. “Yes.”

  Zef’s hand made slow circles on Joey’s back under cover of darkness. “We’ve seen enough.”

  Joey pulled away from Zef’s unwanted touch. “Play it.”

  Usher touched a key. The Mercedes flew forward, over the rail, but its tire snagged on something. A sign, too blurry to read. The car hung balanced on the railing, rocked, then came to a halt. The orbs drifted in, surrounding it. An arm rose from the window, holding something up. The orbs broke away, retreating.

  “What was that?” said Mather.

  “He had a talisman,” said Joey. “To ward off ghosts. They can’t get to him now. And there. Look through the back windshield. That’s his dog jumping.”

  “He’s right,” said Zef. “That’s Charley.”

  A figure appeared at the bottom of the screen. Violent fireworks burst and distorted its form, but the glare receded and the figure gained clarity, frame by frame. The figure rode some animal. It approached the trapped car slowly, as if savoring the moment.

  “The Headless Horseman,” said Mather, awestruck.

  “The Headless Horseman,” said Usher. “Live and on camera.”

  “Thank God we got this first.”

  Usher nodded. “It could have been Centralia all over again.”

  “That’s not the Horseman I saw on Halloween,” said Joey, rubbing his temple.

  “Or the Horseman from New Year’s either,” said Jessica.

  “It’s something new.” Usher slowed the image with a mouse click.

  This new Horseman was… human. No longer a demon of whirling leaf and ash, no longer a manifest of jagged glass and ice. Flesh and blood now. A true headless man. He rode the skeletal corpse of a horse. Joey could see the painted lines of the roadbed moving between its ribs.

  Jessica flinched. “I can’t watch this.”

  “Let it run,” snapped Joey, his voice resolute. If Jason was going to die in this film, he’d have his friends with him.

  Jason leaned out the car window, staring helplessly at the approaching Monster. Even through blurry pixels Joey could see his mental engines turning as he searched for escape. The dog scrabbled at the window, barking silently.

  Jason’s face became serene and determined. He hung the talisman around his neck and drew back. A moment passed. The Mercedes lurched, slipping off the signpost. Jason threw himself into the passenger seat, adding his weight to the side that hung over the Hudson River.

  “No!” cried Joey.

  The car lurched, fell, and disappeared. The Horseman lunged at empty air and swung his hatchet in impotent rage, chopping at the metal, throwing sparks.

  “He could still be alive,” said Zef.

  “It’s a hundred-foot drop,” said Mather.

  “Did they find his body?” said Jessica, her voice oddly sharp.

  “Keep watching,” said Usher.

  The Horseman stood at the rail. The fireworks ended. The distant wreckage smoked and sparked.

  Jessica pointed. “What’s that?” Something dangled against the Horseman’s side. Something round and white, hanging from a length of rope.

  “It’s a severed head,” said Usher. “Watch.”

  The Horseman tore the head from its clip and raised it. It burst into flame. He gained the railing, aimed, and threw the head at the water below. A moment later he raised his fists in triumph.

  The footage ended.

  “That,” said Usher, “is why I doubt Jason survived. If he was struck down—he’d be in the torpor state, a Founder’s c
oma. And the current would have carried him…”

  “Halfway to the Atlantic by now,” said Joey, remembering his father’s words.

  “Yes. I’m sorry. Lights?”

  Zef hit the switch. His face held worry and guilt. Usher rubbed his palms. Jessica suppressed a smile. Mather hung his head and muttered, “Poor dog.”

  “There’s good news,” said Usher. “Kate was not in that car. I spoke to her last night. From the house phone. A half hour later than the time stamp on this.” He pointed at a string of numbers at the bottom of the image. “She and Jason didn’t run off together. So what the hell is going on? What other theories do we have?”

  Mather pivoted. “Mr. Osorio believes that a ghost has been killing people in the Hollow for the past year.”

  Usher sat back and crossed his arms. “That true?”

  “Yeah,” said Joey. “Jason thought so, too.”

  “Could there be a connection?”

  Joey glanced at Zef, who shook his head slightly. Yes, there was a connection. A big fat Dutch spider sat at the center of this web. One man connected the Horseman, the ghost of Agathe, the bruises on Jessica’s neck. He connected everything, from Joey’s wrath to the pleading in Zef’s eyes.

  Usher looked from face to face. “If anyone knows what’s going on, now is the time to speak up.”

  Joey wanted to tell all. But what was the point? Nothing would bring Jason back. Jason was dead.

  No. No. No…

  Jason was dead. Dead. The hard hoof of that word kicked Joey in the chest—dead—and something broke inside him. He grabbed the doorknob. “I want to go home.”

  “What’s wrong?” said Usher.

  “What’s wrong? I just saw my best friend die. Open the door. I’m leaving.”

  “Jessica…” said Usher. “The boy knows something.”

  Jessica stood and reached for Joey’s temple.

  “No,” said Zef, grabbing his mother’s arm. “You’re not messing with his brain. He’s told you everything. Haven’t you?”

  “I just want to go.”

  “He needs to grieve,” said Zef.

  Usher sighed, agreeing. Mather stood, turned a key, and the door broke wide. Joey ran from the room. He pushed past the bent-eared guard and wrenched the front door open, lost his footing on the porch steps, and fell hard onto the lawn. He lay there a moment, clutching fistfuls of brown grass. He could see the entire Earth in his mind, suddenly, a vast ball of dirt hanging in space, hiding its tears from the sun.