by S. A. Hunter
She dashed through the second set of doors and was relieved to find herself in a better lit passage, but she didn’t know where she was or how to get out. “Chowder?” she whispered.
She heard a ding. She went down the corridor and peeked around the corner. A couple of orderlies had exited an elevator. They began coming her way.
She moved back and looked for a place to hide. She still didn’t want to be caught. Chowder barked again, and a swinging door flapped. She quickly slipped into the room and immediately crumbled to the floor, clutching her head.
“I was only going to get a jug of milk.” “Hope Ron finds someone else.” “Probably shouldn’t have done that.” “About time.” “Hello?” “What happened?” “Wait, I think I made a mistake.” “Bitch stuck me!”
She didn’t need to look over her shoulder to know what was in the room. Two rows of gurneys lined the walls and each one held a body with a toe tag. She wanted to bolt back outside, but a sharp tug on her pants leg kept her in place. Chowder was keeping his wits about him. She, on the other hand, felt like hers were dribbling out her ears. She was vaguely aware of the orderlies walking by, but all of the other voices drowned out their muted conversation.
“Mom always said to look both ways. Can’t believe something like this got me.” “He’s not good alone. His apartment was a pig sty before I moved in, but he began picking up after himself when I started living there.” “But it was SO awesome. I mean like Guinness Book awesome.” “Can’t believe they dragged it out so long.” “Are you all right?” “Where am I?” “I told the shrink that the meds weren’t working.” “Gonna get her for this.”
She tried to block them out, but she wasn’t hearing them with her ears. She didn’t know how she heard ghosts. She just did. Now they were crowding her head, and it hurt.
“At least I wasn’t running with scissors.” “Just needs someone around to tidy up for.” “Hope they got it on tape. I’ll be legendary.” “Idiots.” “Do you need help?” “I remember going to sleep. Am I dreaming?” “I don’t think this made things better.” “Nobody hurts me and gets away with it.”
She needed to get away before the ghosts figured out she was there. It sounded like one already was aware of her. She clenched her jaw to make sure she didn’t respond. If they became aware of her, the situation would get worse. Talking around her hurt, but if they began talking to her, her brain would fry. Too much input or something. She just knew it was bad. She peeked out the small window in the door and saw the orderlies coming back. She ducked down again and waited for them to go. They walked back to the elevator, the doors dinged, and then three quarters of the lights turned off. Things had just gotten worse.
The chittering was instantly audible outside the morgue doors. Chowder began barking again. She blindly backed away and jostled a gurney. She jumped and whirled around. She carefully pulled it back into line. She was shaking.
“What’s that?” “Who’s there?” “What is that thing?” “Whoa.” “Is that what you’re hiding from?” “Please let this be a dream.” “Don’t like this.” “What the hell?”
Mary tried to think. She had the flashlight and Chowder. She was in a room full of ghosts. They were aware of the Shadowman. She didn’t know how she could use that.
The Shadowman began slipping into the room through the crease between the doors. She raised the flashlight and hit it with the beam. It slipped back outside, but it had her cornered. There wasn’t any other way out of the room. She was shaking so badly that the flashlight beam jumped wildly all over the door. It was difficult to keep it along the seam. She needed help, but the only help she had was dead. She knew it was a bad idea, but she cleared her throat and said, “I do need help.”
“What’d she say?” “Who is she?” “That thing is not cool.” “She shouldn’t be here.” “How can I help?” “Will someone please tell me what’s going on!” “I used to cry a lot, too.” “Want her to blubber like that.”
She clutched her head and doubled over. “Please, I need help! Can someone turn on the lights? That thing will go away if there’s light!”
“Is she talking to us?” “Poor girl.” “This is like having front row seats at a horror movie.” “You should be more careful.” “I’ll see what I can do.” “Am I dead?” “I used to be afraid of the dark too, but I guess it's stupid to be afraid of anything now.” “Ha-ha, it’s going to get you.”
She crumbled to her knees. There was so much pressure on her head. Their words piled on her like rocks.
“One at a time! Can’t you speak one at a time! What good is all this chattering over each other?”
“She can hear us?” “She can hear us?” “She can hear us?” “She can hear us?” “She can hear us?” “She can hear us?” “She can hear us?”
Mary whimpered. Chowder barked sharply. She winced and stroked his head. She didn’t need him adding to the cacophony as well. She kept an eye on the morgue doors. Her flashlight’s beam rested on one of the windows. The Shadowman was still out there. It was making the purring sound again.
“Miss, can you hear us?”
She pulled her eyes away from the doors to look back into the room. Her eyes skittered over the gurneys. She may talk to ghosts all the time, but dealing with evidence of their deaths was not easy for her. She'd been weirded out by Chowder the first time and still was occasionally, but having the bodies--she shuddered when she realized that the correct term was “cadavers”--there before her was quietly horrifying.
“Miss?” It sounded like the one who had been struck by a car was speaking.
“Yeah, I can hear you.”
“Do you know what’s going to happen to us?”
She shook her head.
“But we’re dead?” This was said by the one who seemed to have passed in his sleep. Ironic how people thought that was the most peaceful way to die, because it seemed to be very disorienting for the ones who suffered it.
“Yeah, you’re dead. You’ll go somewhere. I know that much. You aren’t stuck here. It may just take a few days. Don’t try to stick around. Trust me. It isn’t better than what’s next.”
“How do you know? You just said you don’t know where we’ll go.” This was said by the woman who was worried about her boyfriend or husband.
“I know because I’ve met other ghosts. None of them have been happy. Most of them ended up twisted and mean.”
“Your dog seems happy.” This was from the girl who had committed suicide.
She glanced down at Chowder’s furry head. “Yeah, but are you a dog?”
No one replied.
Suddenly the lights began flickering on. Relief coursed through her as she looked up at the slowly warming fluorescents. There was a screech from the hallway and a crash. She crept to the morgue doors and warily stuck her head out. The hallway was lit, and the doors to the mechanical room flapped.
“It’s gone. What was that thing?”
“It’s called a Shadowman. You don’t need to worry about it. Thanks for turning on the lights.”
“Will you be all right?”
“Yeah, I’m going back to my gran’s room. Thanks again.”
“Be careful.”
“Yeah. Bye”
“Tell my wife I love her.” “Tell Ron to remember me by being happy.” “Hey, could you check to see if I’m on Youtube?” “Can you make sure they honor my wishes?” “You better hurry.” “Are you sure I’m dead?” “Wait, could you tell my parents I’m sorry!” “Tell my cheating girlfriend to sleep with one eye open.”
She didn’t have the energy to run, though she wanted to. She kept her head down as she stumbled to the elevator. The voices trailed her, but she didn’t acknowledge them. She pressed the call button repeatedly. This was what she’d dreaded. Not only were all of their voices making her head throb, but their requests were impossible. She couldn’t impart any last messages or fulfill requests. They were dead, and she had to live her life.
“Tell her I
’m sorry.” “Ron needs to find someone nice. Make sure he knows he needs to find someone nice.” “Ooh, I wonder how many views it’s gotten. I bet it’s gotten a ton. Read me the comments. I bet they’re awesome.” “There better not be any funny business over my will. Tell them I wanted it all to go to charity, and they should grow up.” “Take care.” “I think you’re lying. I don’t feel dead.” “If I had another chance, I wouldn’t have taken the pills. Tell them.” “Better yet, slap her. Say it’s from Miguel.”
She practically fell through the elevator doors when they opened. “Wait, when will you be back?” “Don’t go yet.” “Hey, you’ll need my screen name.” “Don’t you need my address?” “Get some rest. It looks like you need it.” “Wait, come back.” “You didn’t even get my name!” “Bitch, you’re as useless as her.” She pushed the button for two and let out a sigh as the doors closed. Alone in the elevator, she slid down the wall and held Chowder close, relieved by the silence.
She shuffled back to the hospital room, feeling wiped out. Amazingly, no one saw her. She didn’t care it some did or not. She just wanted to curl up and go to sleep, though she wasn’t looking forward to doing that in the closet. Sunrise was still hours away, though. She let herself into the room. The lights were still on, and Gran and Mr. White were still awake. Mr. White seemed relieved by her return. Gran, on the other hand, looked annoyed.
“Well, what did you find out?”
She dropped into a chair and set Chowder down. “I’m fine, thanks for asking.”
“I can see that you’re fine. What did you find out?”
She was too tired to argue or get upset. She just wanted to get some shut-eye.
“It went to the basement. It tried to come after me.”
“What else?”
She let her head roll back and stared at the ceiling. “He can see ghosts, and ghosts can see him. They don’t seem to like each other.”
“What else?”
She shrugged.
“I can’t believe this. What were you doing down there?”
She didn’t reply.
Mr. White spoke up. “What did you expect her to find out?”
“How to stop it; if it had an anchor like a ghost; something!”
“Sorry, I couldn’t investigate too much, what with the running and the terror.”
“Unbelievable,” Gran muttered.
Feeling that the interrogation was over, Mary lurched from the chair and went to the closet. She crawled inside and curled up on the floor with her pilfered pillow. She could hear Gran and Mr. White talking, but it didn’t keep her awake.
* * *
“You’re telling me there’s nothing you can do?”
Mary looked around the hospital room groggily. She turned to Vicky and groaned. She just wanted to sleep. Not have weird astral projection, mind meld, telepathic whatevers with Vicky.
“God, you look like crap.”
“Good, that’s how I feel.”
“So you went to the basement, the thing chased you to the morgue, and the only way you escaped was by getting a ghost to turn on the lights for you?”
She nodded and then frowned. She was having trouble keeping track of the dream. It felt like she’d been there a while and had obviously told Vicky what happened, but she couldn’t recall it. Could she be too exhausted to dream?
“Mary, stay with me. The solution seems pretty obvious.”
She scrubbed her face in an attempt to wake herself up and then got confused because she was asleep and didn’t want to wake up, not yet, at least. She was too tired to keep anything straight. “What?”
“Get a ghost to fight this shadow thing! You said it didn’t like Chowder, that it could see it and what not. Well, it sounds to me like it was more than annoyed by it. It wouldn’t come into the morgue with all the ghosts in there. I think a ghost could kill it or whatever.”
“But it did try to come into the morgue. I held it off with the flashlight.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t sound like it tried really hard. I bet it was wary of the ghosts.”
Mary shook her head. She wasn’t seeing it.
“Get a full-grown ghost, not some little toy dog, sic it on this thing, and you’ll see.”
“Chowder’s a small terrier, not a toy dog.”
“Focus!”
“Fine, where am I going to get a ghost?”
“Do I have to think of everything? Figure that out yourself.”
“I’ll be so happy when you’re out of this coma.”
“Me too. Now find a ghost, bring it here, and get rid of that thing.”
She rolled her eyes at Vicky’s bossy tone. “Anything else?”
“Yeah, wake up.”
“Oh, come on! Can’t I have some normal sleep for a bit? I’ve been up all night.”
“Nope, you need to wake up.”
Mary let out a groan as she sat up in the closet. Sleeping on the floor in a small, cramped space had not done her any good. She rubbed her eyes and peered between the slats.
Gran was awake with her breakfast in front of her. “Mary, are you up?”
She opened the closet and got up stiffly. She walked slowly to the chair by the bed and sat down. “Would you like some coffee?” Gran asked as she offered her cup.
She took it and drank it down. “Had another chat with Vicky. She thinks a ghost can handle the Shadowman.”
“That the girl in the coma?” Mr. White asked.
She nodded. “It’s a possibility,” Gran murmured.
“Yeah, but where are we going to get a ghost to help us? I doubt any we meet will want to lend a hand.”
“I may know one,” Mr. White offered.
They turned to stare at him. “It won’t hurt to ask, at least,” he muttered.
Before Mary could ask for more details, a doctor and Mrs. Pillar came in. The doctor checked Gran’s ankle and chart. He prescribed some pills and told them she could go.
“When you’re ready, come get me, and I’ll give you a ride home,” Mrs. Pillar offered.
“Why thank you, Laura. I’ll send Mary to you within the hour.”
The doctor and Mrs. Pillar left. Mary began packing Gran’s overnight bag. “Who’s this ghost who might help us?” Gran asked.
“A guy by the name of Horace Thistlebottom. I’ve got his anchor back at my shop.”
“Horace Thistlebottom?” Mary couldn’t believe the name.
“I think he changed it professionally, but he’ll love to help you out. He can’t resist a damsel in distress. That’s a personal quote of his.”
“When can we come by to get the anchor?”
“Later today, if you like. I can discharge myself. Give me a call.” Mary wondered what exactly Mr. White was in for. She’d never gotten any clue. She had a sinking suspicion it was just to harass the staff.
“Mary, go get Laura. I’m ready to go,” Gran said.
Mary found Mrs. Pillar at the nurse’s station. They walked back with a wheelchair and a pair of crutches. Mrs. Pillar instructed Gran on the best use of the crutches and told her to stay off her feet as much as possible. She helped Gran into the wheelchair. Mary gathered all the stuff and followed them out.
As she was leaving, she turned back to Mr. White. “Thanks for helping us.”
He nodded his head. “Yeah, I can’t believe I’m not charging you two for any of it. Hang in there, kid.”
She gave him a smile and hurried to catch up with Mrs. Pillar and Gran. The drive back was filled with chitchat as Gran and Mrs. Pillar caught up with each other. She sat in the back seat and kept nodding off.
When they got home, Mrs. Pillar helped her get Gran into the house and onto the sofa. She instructed them again on the meds and let herself out.
Gran lay back on the sofa with a heavy sigh. “I think we both need a nap. Go get some rest, and I’ll do the same.”
“Yell for me if you need anything. Don’t try to get up. If you do, I’ll tell Mrs. Pillar.”
&nbs
p; Gran swatted playfully at her. “Get some rest, Mary. You need it.”
She didn’t argue. She felt dead on her feet. She climbed the stairs, toed off her shoes, and fell into bed. She just wanted to sleep for a couple of days and not worry about anything. Not Shadowmen. Not Vicky. Not anything.
Chapter 10
Soliloquies
Mary walked along the neatly trimmed graves carrying a bouquet of dark purple irises. She brought them every time she came. Gran had told her a long time ago that they were her mother’s favorite. Her father didn’t have a favorite flower, but Gran had assured her that he would like them just as much as her mom.
There wasn’t any special reason for today's trip to the cemetery, at least not one Mary knew. Gran would just sometimes decide that they needed to go by. She figured the Shadowman had somehow prompted this visit, but she couldn’t figure out how. She’d thought they would stay home and rest, but Gran had insisted, and Mary couldn’t very well say no. Who said no to going to their parents’ grave? She couldn’t even let herself feel resentful. It was important to remember loved ones, even ones she couldn’t remember very well.
Gran would usually drive her out, spend a few moments with her at the grave tidying it up, and then would leave to wait in the car while she had a private moment. Today Gran couldn’t even leave the car. Mary had never made the trip to the grave by herself. It felt very lonely, not just lonely but solitary, like maybe she was the last person on earth.
It might seem strange, but she’d never heard a ghost in the cemetery. She didn’t know why exactly--like if it were due to the embalming process or something--but the dead didn’t linger here. It was ironic, but also a relief. She couldn’t imagine what would happen if every grave had a ghost attached to it.
She finally came to a stop at her parents’ grave. The tombstone was a double marker in dark granite. Johanna and Henry Hellick, loving parents both killed May 5th, 2000. She lay down the irises and took a seat.
“Hi, Mom and Dad. It’s me, Mary.” She knew it was silly to tell them who it was, but it was how she started every conversation with them since she was little. It was like a ritual now.