The Revenant: A Horror in Dodsville

by Brian L. Blank

  Stephen picked the book off his lap, put a marker in it, and set it on the table under the lamp. When he looked again at Melissa, her smile had disappeared.

  "Stephen," she began. Her eyes showed concern. "You're not going to believe this. I was there and I don't even believe it."

  Stephen's heart began to beat faster with anticipation. "What?"

  "Well, the night began easily enough." She brushed a wet strand of hair out of her eyes. She had changed clothes and dried herself as best as she could in a hurry before driving to the hospital to see him. "We got past our personal snoop without any problems. As a matter of fact, he was still parked out in front of Julie's when we got back. I'll bet he was surprised to see us pull into the driveway and get out."

  "What happened at the mansion?" Stephen asked impatiently. He propped his pillow up behind him and sat up straight.

  "Tabitha and I took the lower floor while Julie and Sly teamed up for the second floor. Tabitha and I went quickly through the rooms we had spent a lot of time in when we had stayed there, and then moved on to the rooms down the west wing." She paused briefly. "Remember that room we heard the voices coming from?"

  Stephen nodded.

  "I didn't want to go back in there. I had a funny feeling in my stomach at just the thought of it. But Tabitha said she would, so I went by myself to the last room down the hall while she checked it out."

  “So, I take it that the room was unlocked this time around.”

  Melissa nodded.

  A lingering roll of thunder cut her off for a few seconds. The brunt of the storm had passed, but a few diehard bolts of lightning remained behind to tell of greater times past.

  "When I finished with my room," she continued, "I went back to check on Tabitha. As I entered the room I again felt the sick feeling at the pit of my stomach, but I did my best to ignore it, blaming it on nerves. But when she turned around and I saw that fear in her eyes, I knew something had happened. She had even dropped her flashlight." She grabbed hold of Stephen's good arm. "And when I asked what was wrong, she replied, 'Reed."'

  "What?"

  "Exactly my reaction," Melissa said. "That's when she began claiming that she’d seen Reed and that he’d spoken to her. Then Julie let out a bloodcurdling scream upstairs, so I grabbed Tabitha and we ran to the foyer."

  Stephen shifted uncomfortably in bed, ignoring the pains on his left side. He hardly breathed as Melissa spoke. "And?" he said after she had paused too long.

  Melissa went on with the story, telling how they reached the foyer just in time to see Sly and Julie bolting down the stairs and Clair Klaus floating after them.

  "I knew there was something peculiar about that closet," Stephen said, shaking his head in disbelief.

  "And then Pierce shows up with Mr. Klaus," Melissa added, "just as the form on the stairs reaches the bottom.”

  "You're kidding?"

  Melissa told the remainder of the story while Stephen sat on the edge of his bed and listened, continually shaking his head.

  When he was sure that Melissa was done talking after her next pause, Stephen leaned back into his pillows. "I have to get out of here," he said to the ceiling. "Damn that accident." He almost told Melissa about seeing Clair Klaus on the road, but changed his mind when he saw the tears welling up in her eyes.

  "What's happening, Stephen?" Melissa asked at length, wiping away a tear before it had a chance to escape.

  He reached down to the floor and picked up a special edition of the Dodsville Star News. "See this?" He pointed to the headlines stating that three more persons were missing, bringing the total now to seven, not including the deceased bodies that had been stolen. "There is something evil in this town," he said. "Your adventure tonight only proves it."

  Melissa took the paper from him and began reading the article.

  Stephen asked, after a while, "Tabby said she spoke to Reed, huh?"

  She nodded. "And she's terrified about it yet."

  "I don't blame her. If I were in her shoes and saw what she did . . ."

  "It couldn't have been Reed." Melissa said. "Right? I mean, he's dead, isn't he?"

  The image of Clair Klaus standing in the middle of the highway in the rain entered his thoughts. "I don't know anything anymore," he replied. "Except that we’re in this mess up to our eyeballs."

  Melissa couldn't hold back the tears any longer and let them flow. She leaned into Stephen and rested her head on his right shoulder. She shook in his arm.

  "I'm sorry," Stephen said, holding her close. "I've forgotten all about your feelings in this." He backed her away so he could look into her eyes. "How do you feel about what Tabby said about Reed?"

  Melissa dropped her head back on his shoulder. "I don't know," she murmured. "I had gotten used to the idea that Reed was gone from me forever. And now this." She looked up, meeting Stephen's eyes with her own. "Do you believe Tabitha really saw him?"

  "Reed's dead," he replied firmly, though inside he wasn't quite so confident. "And whoever it was that Tabby saw in that room, it certainly wasn't him. At least not the Reed we knew."

  "What do you mean by that?"

  "I don't know," Stephen replied. "I don't know."

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:

  On the Outside

  During the next two days another missing person made the expanding roster. This time it was a young girl, only four years old. She had been outside playing in her sandbox in her parents' front yard, and when the mother checked on her a half hour later she was nowhere to be found. The largest search in Dodsville history was under way, but thus far not a trace of her had been discovered. Most of the men on the search didn't actually believe they had much of a chance on finding her from the start. Newspaper editorials reflected the townspeople's feelings in their front-page columns. Federal agents had finally been called in to assist Detective Pierce and the police department; also the governor placed a few National Guard troops in the city to walk the streets at night. No one had found any leads as to who the person or persons might be who were behind the increasing nightmare in the usually quiet small town.

  All of the major television networks had visited Dodsville since the disappearance of the little girl. The entire nation was becoming aware of the small town's plight. People were sympathetic, but at the same time they were happy it was not happening to them. At the end of each news segment about the missing persons in Dodsville, the reporter ended with the question asking who could be behind such an evil plot.

  Of course, Detective Pierce still held his suspicions about Stephen. He was, however, the only one on the case that believed a person spending the last ten days in the hospital was behind it. Pierce suspected O'Neal had help.

  By the time Stephen's tenth night in the hospital came to a close, he had finalized the details of his escape. Doctor Werner had told him just this morning that they wanted to keep him around for four or five more days. "Just to make absolutely sure there are no complications," he had said. Stephen, on the other hand, couldn't wait any longer. He felt he was somehow a part of what was happening in Dodsville, and he needed to be out there to get something --though as of yet not knowing at all what that something was-- accomplished.

  Now, as visiting hours came to a close for the evening, and the desk receptionist announced this fact over the public address system, Melissa turned her back so Stephen could pull on a pair of pants. She had brought him the clothes. He had spent over an hour this morning convincing her he was perfectly fine and was able to leave, despite what his doctor had said. Julie refused to have any part in his escape, but she reluctantly agreed not to tell anyone at the hospital. After all, she had argued, he was an adult, whether he acted like one or not, and was responsible for his own actions.

  "One last touch," Stephen said as he jammed cotton balls between his cheeks and teeth to give his jaw a different appearance. Of course, he knew that if someone on duty looked right at him they would recognize him immediately and force him back to his room. Like Aleina.
He would miss her, and wanted to say goodbye. But he would return in a couple of days and say his final farewells. "There. We'd better hightail it out of here before Aleina comes in to check on me."

  Melissa helped him put an overcoat over his cast on his left arm and pulled the collar down for him. "Are you sure you ought to be doing this?" she asked, for the twentieth time that evening, looking him in the eyes. "The doctors wouldn't want to keep you here if they didn't have a good reason."

  "Doc Werner is only being overly cautious," Stephen replied with his brightest smile. "Anyway, I’m fine, I tell you." The smile disappeared. "Besides, my grandmother won't leave until she considers me completely healed. And I'd feel a hell of a lot better with her back in Milwaukee."

  Hansen slept, but Stephen shook him awake. "Hey, I'll see you around, buddy."

  Hansen opened his left eye only and looked balefully back at Stephen. "I thought Doc Werner said--"

  "I know what he told me." Stephen patted him on the shoulder. "Take care of yourself, now. I'll be back to see you once in a while. And don't go squealing to Aleina. I left the bathroom light on and the door closed. So, in case they wonder where I am, tell them I am taking a dump. All right?"

  Hansen nodded.

  Stephen put his right arm around Melissa as they stepped through the doorway and into the hall. A group of other visitors was leaving the room across the way, and Stephen and Melissa mixed right in.

  Breathing a sigh of relief as he plowed through the last pair of doors and stepped into the cool night air, Stephen took his good arm from around Melissa and held it up in the air as a gesture of triumph. "Glad to be back!" he shouted. Some people heading to the parking lot looked back at him as if he were crazy and might attack at any moment. The air is more than cool, he thought. It's clean. The recent thunderstorms had purged the atmosphere. The sky was dark, but the western horizon still held onto a shade of dark blue. The east was speckled with stars.

  Stephen lowered his arm from the heavens and rubbed his unshaven chin. The bruise on the left side of his face had prevented him from using a razor.

  "You going to keep that thing?" Melissa asked, concerning the beard.

  "This itchy thing is coming off tonight." He put his arm around her again, and smiled when she didn't protest. "Why? Don’t you like it?"

  "It makes you look like a hard-core biker."

  "It does? Then maybe I should keep it."

  They proceeded to Melissa's car and drove out of the parking lot to see Stephen's grandmother. She was staying at the Country Hotel, which was located just outside of city limits to the east. Hopefully, they would catch her before she retired for the evening. Stephen was hoping to convince her to leave town in the morning.

  Melissa had spent some time with Stephen's grandmother during the last few days. They had had, what Melissa thought, a long, informative talk about Stephen--more than what Stephen would want her to know. Now, as she pulled in front of Mrs. O'Neal's room, Melissa placed her hand lightly on Stephen's leg. "Don't be too pushy," she said. "She loves you a lot, you know."

  Stephen agreed, and they left the car and walked the short distance to Mrs. O'Neal's room. The light was on.

  "Well, Stephen," Mrs. O'Neal exclaimed as she opened the door and saw the two of them standing outside. "I thought you weren't going to be released until the end of the week."

  "Guess I heal fast," he replied, not meeting her eyes. He was about to lie to her and hated himself for it. "Must have gotten that trait from your side of the gene pool."

  "Well, don't doodle out there in the night air. Get in here." She stepped aside so they could pass.

  Again Stephen dared to put his arm around Melissa as he walked into the room. Mrs. O'Neal noticed it, but didn't say anything.

  The three of them discussed the latest developments in the search for the missing girl for a few minutes. Stephen sat on the bed during that time, wringing his hands, trying to think of the right thing to say that would send his grandmother packing for Milwaukee. Finally, he stood and paced in front of her.

  "Grandma," he said, forcing himself to look at her, "now that I'm out of the hospital, there really is no reason for you to hang around anymore." The bruise on his rib cage suddenly began to throb. He winced slightly and continued. "Thank you so much for coming and seeing me through the hard times. But now there's no longer any need for you to worry about me." He paused briefly. "And I think you should go back home and get away from this town as soon as possible."

  "Then you're coming back to Milwaukee with me?" she asked, her eyes pleading her case.

  Melissa, who had been silently sitting on the bed, jerked her head to look at Stephen. "You're staying a while yet, aren't you?"

  Stephen broke into a wide smile, though he tried his best not to. "Sorry, Grandma, but I'm involved somehow in what's going on around here. I don't know why or how, but I am."

  Mrs. O'Neal reached out and took Stephen's unbandaged hand in both of hers. "And you tell me I have nothing left to worry about. I'll go back home tomorrow, if that's what you want." She squeezed his hand gently. "But I won't quit worrying about you.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. "Really, I'll be fine. And hopefully I'll be back home in a couple of weeks."

  Stephen and Melissa stayed for another ten minutes, promised they would come back in the morning to see her off, and said their goodbyes. On the way to Julie's apartment, Stephen stared solemnly out his side window.

  Melissa noticed the morose expression on his face as they passed a streetlight. "You're thinking about Darla, aren't you?" she asked softly.

  Stephen jerked around in his seat to face her. "How do you know about Darla?" he asked, almost pugnaciously.

  "Your grandmother and I had a long talk a few nights ago," she replied, suddenly regretting bringing up the subject. The look on Stephen's face did not show happiness. "She told me you were engaged to her, but she died in a car crash last Thanksgiving. That a drunk crossed the center line and--"

  "She shouldn't have told you," Stephen said, turning back to stare inexpressibly out his window.

  Melissa decided it was best to leave the topic alone--for now anyway. She desperately tried to think of something to say, but after a few minutes she resigned to the silence that followed.

  "Here we are," she said, pulling into Julie's driveway.

  Stephen got out of the car without even looking at her and hurried to the front door. Melissa ran to catch up to him.

  Sly was the only one up, as Julie and Tabitha had gone to bed about an hour earlier. Tabitha had been staying there since the incident at the mansion. "Well, if it isn't the invalid himself," Sly said, only taking his attention from the television program in front of him for a second. "Rumor had it you were planning your great escape tonight, and somehow I knew you'd pull it off."

  Stephen sat down on the couch and let out a heavy sigh. His body was doing a good job of complaining about being out of bed. "How's Tabitha doing?" he asked as Melissa also sat on the couch, though on the other side. "She hadn't been in to see me since the adventure at the mansion a few nights ago." He lifted his right leg and rested it on the cocktail table in front of the couch. "And you've only been in once since the time I sent you for a burger, and you never even returned with it. What's going on?"

  "Tabitha is still fairly shaken," Sly replied. He looked away from the news and faced Melissa. "You did tell him, didn't you?"

  "Tell me what?" Stephen absentmindedly propped a pillow up in his corner of the couch and leaned his weight against it.

  "It's about what whoever was in the room said to her," Melissa replied, glad for the chance to finally say something to him. "About Randy."

  "And what was that?"

  "He said that Randy killed him. Killed Reed, that is."

  Stephen's eyebrows shot up and his eyes grew wide with interest. He nodded and said, "I didn't know if I should say anything to anyone about this or not, but I guess it's time I did." He shifted his weigh
t off the pillow and leaned slightly in the other direction, attempting to achieve a comfortable position. "When Randy came to my hospital room, he left warning that Reed had gotten in his way with Tabby and to look what had become of him."

  "Then it's true," Melissa said. "Randy really did murder Reed?"

  "I have to say yes," Stephen replied bluntly.

  "Now hold on a second," Sly said, waving an indignant hand in front of him. "We don't know that for sure. We don't know anything for sure."

  "If it was Randy at the mansion pretending to Tabby he was Reed," Stephen said, "then that was his sick way of confessing."

  "We don't even know if that was Randy in that room or not."

  "Who else could it have been?" Stephen asked. "Reed?"

  "Of course not," Sly replied. "I'm just saying we can't know anything for sure, and we have to proceed that way."

  "Doesn't matter," Stephen said, nodding to himself. "From now we have to consider Randy a murderer. If he killed once-- and I say if--then he won't be afraid to do it again."

  "He thinks you're after Tabitha," Melissa said, to Stephen.

  "I know," he replied. And then, after a brief pause: "But you don't believe that, do you?"

  "I don't," she replied. "But, then, I'm not the one you need to worry about."

  Not true, Stephen thought. He stood and walked to the picture window, parting the drapes so he could look out. The street was silent. Only pale splashes of light spilled down onto the street from the lamps above. He could see a few of the mansions glowing on the Hill, and sighed. "I wished I'd been there," he said, more to himself than to be heard.

  Sly asked, "What's that?"

  "Oh, I was just wishing I was with you guys at the mansion," he replied, though not turning to face him. "There is something awfully weird going on in this town. And something more than a crazed maniac on the loose, too." He let the drapes fall back into place and faced Sly. "You once told me that you didn't believe in ghosts. What about now?"