by Shady Grim
“I never meant to make you feel like a beggar.”
“Yeh didn’t do anythin’. It’s all me. I fucked up my whole life, and now I have a chance to make it right. Even if I don’t make it home, I know that Emmy will always remember that this one time ‘er dad risked it all just for her.”
“Stop it, you’re scaring me.”
“Good, yeh need to be scared.”
“I can’t find anymore tracks. Are we still going in the right direction?” Ethan opened a small pocket on the front of my backpack and retrieved my compass.
“Yeah, we’re good. We’re almost exactly due east of the house.”
Herbert studied his prize as he crouched behind a dense patch of shrubbery. She still had that soft white skin that made him salivate. Her skin was unblemished, unlike her cousin’s. Campbell’s hands, face, and arms were tanned and freckled from working in the sun. Dixon’s skin was flawless and supple, and begged for Herbert’s knife to caress it.
Byron nervously looked between his father and the two cousins. He was supposed to collect Heather, and his father Ethan. Byron’s stiff leg would make him too slow and hindered his agility too much to bring down a man Ethan’s size. Heather shouldn’t be a problem for him, despite his infirmity, as long as she didn’t manage to run. If she did run away, then Herbert would have to chase her down. Chasing prey excited Herbert, and hunting Heather would likely result in her death. If Herbert injured her before the proper time, then Mother’s plan would be ruined. Herbert licked his lips, sweat beaded on his brow. Byron tugged his father’s shirt sleeve. Herbert slowly turned to look at Byron, but his eyes were glazed over and Byron wasn’t sure if his father actually saw him, or was still lost in some dark fantasy. Herbert blinked as his eyes cleared. He pointed to Byron and then to Heather. This was an instruction for Byron to circle around and collect Heather. Herbert circled in the opposite direction and set his sights on Ethan.
I scanned the ground and the nearby shrubbery. Ethan was walking in a circle. “We can’t help Tim if we can’t find him. Some deputies from the sheriff’s office could cover a lot more ground than w–”
“All the deaths that have happened in Twilight Falls and those dudes have never arrested anyone. Yeh know why? ‘Cause the murders were spiritual. They weren’t normal crimes.”
“I’ll give you some room here and accept that spirituality was involved, but there still has to be living people involved too, as evidenced by the two sets of footprints next to your truck.”
“That ain’t definitive proof that ghosts can’t harm people. I know for a fact that they can, and Tim can back me up. I saw one attack ‘im this mornin’. The damn thing nearly suffocated ‘im.”
“Why are you suddenly calling him Tim?”
“We sort o’ came to an understandin’.”
“Would that be about the time you were both high on some mystery drug?”
“We drank the damn bourbon after Tim nearly died!”
“Alright Ethan, if it’s true that a ghost has been causing all of the mayhem in Twilight Falls, then why hasn’t someone exorcised it, or trapped it in a witch ball or something?”
“Christ, Heather, what the hell do yeh think we’re doin’ out here?”
Herbert saw his chance when Ethan turned to argue with his cousin. He lurched forward with unnatural speed, and wrapped his arm around Ethan’s neck in a failed attempt to perform a rear naked choke. Ethan managed to tuck his chin before the hold was in place. Ethan sunk his body down a little, planted his feet for leverage, and elbowed Herbert several times in the gut and ribs. Pain was a pleasant sensation to Herbert, but his need for respiration was the same as everyone else’s. A sharp blow into Herbert’s ribs affected his breathing enough that he removed the choke.
Byron waited for his father to grab Ethan before he jumped on Heather. She was trying to move close enough to hit Herbert in the head with the butt of her rifle when Byron grabbed her. Heather was so focused on her cousin that she wasn’t able to maneuver out of the choke hold as Ethan had. She dropped her rifle as her body went limp. Her eyes remained open, but ceased to track movement. Byron threw her to the ground, tore off her backpack, and began to tie her wrists together behind her back. Ethan changed tactic and dove on Byron’s back. Herbert resumed his original plan and looped his arm around Ethan’s neck. He was successful this time. He quickly pulled out some of the leather straps he’d come armed with and hog-tied the unconscious Ethan. Byron hoisted Heather over his shoulder just as she was regaining consciousness, grabbed her pack, and started walking south.
TIM SETTLED DOWN IN a cluster of bushes. He was a little farther than thirty-three yards away from the old Victorian, and precisely due south of it. Someone was bound to come in this direction; all he had to do was wait. He dusted the dirt off of his feet and slipped his shoes on. He rubbed his shoulder and sore ankles and wrists. He’d only been sitting a few minutes when he saw a large man shambling toward him. He heard Heather’s voice and a lump lodged in his throat. Her voice was shockingly calm as she tried to reason with Byron.
“You don’t have to do this, Byron. Let me go, and I’ll pretend nothing ever happened.” Byron set her down against a very old, red hawthorn tree. He pulled a spool of heavy twine out of one of the large pockets that lined his trousers and tied Heather to the tree with it. “Please, Byron...”
“I’m sorry, Heather. It’s nothing personal.” Byron checked the tension of the twine, and checked the knot he’d tied. Mother would not forgive him for making careless mistakes at such a crucial time. Satisfied that she was secure, Byron stuffed the rest of the twine back in his pocket and retrieved a red marker. He scribbled red lines on Heather’s forehead and left without another word.
Tim waited for Bryon to disappear into the brush before circling around him. He was so easy to track that it was almost a bore. Tim scanned the ground for a rock, and found one roughly the size of a softball. He scooped up the rock, jumped up behind Byron, and bashed his head with it. Byron stumbled forward. He remained standing and was babbling. Tim kicked Byron’s leg, and he fell to the ground on his back. Tim reached into his pocket and took one of the leather straps he’d been tied with earlier and gagged Byron with it. He hooked his arm under Bryon’s and dragged him to the nearest tree. He used Byron’s own spool of twine to tie him to it. Tim left to help Heather before Byron came to his senses.
“Byron,” I shouted. “Byron, please don’t leave me here.” I sounded pathetic, and that was calculated. Byron would be more confident that he had the upper hand, and less likely to notice the knife that was clipped to the inside of my jeans. Having the knife clipped inside my trousers made it harder to see, but also harder for my tied hands to reach. I had twisted myself into a peculiar pseudo-gymnastic pose when I saw the smiling face of Tim kneeling next to me.
“You’re very flexible.”
“Thanks for noticing.” Tim had a self-made hunting knife in his hand and proceeded to cut me free of the twine, and untied the leather strap that still tied my hands. “You have yellow paint smeared on your forehead.”
“I know; I’ve been marked like you.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t have time to explain. Was Ethan with you when Byron grabbed you?”
“Yes.”
“What’s his birth date?”
“Why do you want to know that?”
“We have two directions left. I need to know Ethan’s birthday so I know where to go.” I was almost convinced that Tim was still under the influence of drugs when I heard a howling pack of dogs in the distance. My follow-up questions were instantly abandoned when I saw shadowy movement circling around us. “Ignore them. They can’t hurt you unless you fear them. Fear gives them strength.”
“We’ll never convince Ethan that they’re harmless.” Tim said nothing, but he didn’t have to. His expression said it for him. “July ninth.”
“He’s west. Follow me and try to be quiet.” Tim broke into a light run.
He was very fast and I had trouble keeping up with him despite being a fit runner. Tim blended in so well with his surroundings that he was actually difficult to see. Twilight was approaching and the woods were getting dreary. Dark shadowy foliage can play tricks on the eyes, and I was afraid that I might lose him. I focused on his white hair. The shadow-beasts were following us, though they kept a distance. Tim was entirely unperturbed by them and ran straight through a large dog-like creature that jumped out in front of him. I followed his lead and the rest of the pack moved away. The next sound I heard was Ethan shouting. Tim stopped on a dime, and I nearly ran into him. He held his finger to his lips to silence me. He pushed me low into the brush so I wouldn’t be seen.
Ethan lay face down in the dirt, still hogtied. “I’m gonna rip yer fuckin’ lungs out yeh old douchebag!”
“The more you struggle, the tighter the bindings will get.” Herbert’s eyes flashed with glee.
“Yer a dead man, Herbie! When I get my hands on yeh, yer gonna wish yeh’d never been born!” Herbert laughed and kicked dirt in Ethan’s face. Ethan coughed and spit, but didn’t give up his tirade. “Yer a real tough guy, kickin’ a man when he’s down! Why don’t yeh untie me and prove that yeh actually got some weight in yer ballsack? Yeh do have a ballsack, don’t yeh, Herbie?”
Ethan’s vulgarity angered Herbert, and he considered cutting Ethan’s throat. He took out his hunting knife, grabbed Ethan’s hair and lifted his head, and lightly pressed the blade to his throat. This action had no effect whatsoever on Ethan, and he continued his profanity-ridden tirade. “If yeh wanted a kiss, Herbie, all yeh had to do was ask. I’m an open-minded guy, but I draw the line at butt fuckin’.” Ethan succeeded in his quest to annoy Herbert, whose hand shook with rage. Herbert gripped the knife so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He drew a little blood on Ethan’s neck. He quickly stood and backed away from Ethan before he went too far. Lizbet would be very disappointed with him if he didn’t follow the plan. Herbert returned his knife to its sheath, and tied the end of a rope around the leather straps that held Ethan. He threw the other end of the rope over the thick branch of a large oak tree and hoisted Ethan in the air. The pull on Ethan’s joints was very painful and momentarily took his breath away. Herbert secured the line around the tree’s trunk. He slung Dixon and Campbell’s rifles over his shoulder and skulked away, disappearing quickly and silently into the brush. “Don’t blink, Herbie! I’ll be outta this before yeh know it!”
I tried to move forward as soon as Herbert was out of sight, but Tim held me down. He placed his finger to his lips again and waited several more seconds before whispering to me. “Herbert has very good hearing.” Tim’s eyes scanned the brush before he rose to cut Ethan down. I stood below Ethan and whispered to him to be quiet. Tim cut the rope on the tree trunk and gently lowered Ethan to the ground. I untied the leather straps and rubbed Ethan’s arms until the feeling returned to them.
“So much for rescuin’ yeh, Tim.”
“It would have been smarter of you to stay in the house,” replied Tim.
“Well, it’s the thought that counts, ain’t it?”
Tim scanned the brush before standing. “We need to go north.”
“There ain’t nothin’ there except the lawn and the lake.”
“There is definitely something there,” replied Tim. “We need to move.”
Ethan rubbed at his forehead and looked at his hand. Herbert had smeared blue paint on him before he hoisted him into the air. “Why do we all have paint on our heads?”
“I already asked Tim, he wouldn’t tell me.”
“Let me give yeh a piece of advice, Timmy. If yeh want Heather to cooperate, yeh have to explain shit to ‘er.”
“I’ll explain everything, but we need to move away from here.” Tim pulled some leaves from his satchel and asked me to hold them against Ethan’s neck.
“They’re to stop the bleeding and prevent infection,” said Tim. “Infection can set in quickly, and we don’t want to leave a blood trail for anyone to find.”
“It’s only a small cut,” I said. “How would anyone track it?”
“If Ethan leaves behind a single drop of blood, Herbert Fitzgerald will find it.” Tim placed a wad of white gauze against the leaves. He pulled out a roll of camouflage self-adhesive bandage and wrapped it around Ethan’s neck. “The blood will draw bugs. The bandage will keep them out of the wound.”
“Oh God, I hate bugs!” Tim shushed him, then became very still. He stood slowly and looked around before waving at us to follow him.
“Yeh wouldn’t happen to have a magic wand in that bag, would yeh?”
Chapter Nineteen
Shelly was still pacing the hall when she heard a car approach. She was afraid to be so close to the study door, but was also afraid to move away from it. If she couldn’t see it, she wouldn’t know if it was open. Imagining it opening was terrifying her. It had been hours since Ethan and Heather left, and Shelly hadn’t heard any noise coming from inside the study. Hopefully that damn dog died. Shelly didn’t know whether to run to the back door, or to stay put. Fitzie hadn’t phoned her back, and she had no idea what was going on. She inched her way to the kitchen door until she heard Persephone’s voice calling for her. Shelly ran out the back door to greet Persephone and Lizbet, who was still seated in Persephone’s car.
“Thank God, you’re here! I was so worried–”
“Calm yourself, girl!” ordered Lizbet.
“Yes, ma’am.” Persephone snickered and Lizbet turned on her.
“A little decorum wouldn’t be too much to ask of you, Persephone, considering the importance of this evening’s event.” Persephone rolled her eyes, but said nothing. Shelly opened the passenger door, and put her hand out to help Lizbet out of the car.
“I don’t need your help!” snapped Lizbet as she slapped Shelly’s hand away. She was still tall and brawny, and was entering her ninetieth year of life. She kept her long silver hair tied neatly in a bun, and she walked with a cane made by her devoted husband. She was by no means a feeble old woman. To the contrary, she walked as straight and sure as she did when she was thirty and insisted on caring entirely for herself. She did her own cooking, laundry, and kept her large and empty house all on her own. She even made most of her own and her husband’s clothes, although she admitted that her eyesight was getting bad enough to make it difficult to thread her sewing needles. She never learned to drive, so she still walked to wherever it was she desired to go. Even in the dead of winter, she could be seen walking to the grocery store, or to church for the Sunday morning service. She kept the same vegetable garden in her back yard as she had since she and her husband first moved into their home. She had the loveliest pink tea roses of anyone in town, and kept a large herb garden on the front of her property. Her two sons took turns mowing her lawn, and trimming her trees, and other such chores that had become just a little too much for her to handle in the last few years.
Rick, who was sitting in the back seat, emerged from the car and gave his wife the kind of kiss that a man gives to a lover who’s been too long absent. “It’s so good to see you, Shell.” Shelly smiled at him.
“We don’t have time for that!” scolded Lizbet, smacking her cane on the ground. “Where are Dixon and Campbell?”
“They’re in there,” answered Shelly, pointing to the woods.
“Herbert should’ve taken care of them by now. Where is he?”
“I haven’t seen him.”
“And Gerald, have you seen him?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Oh, that blasted boy!” shouted Lizbet. “The sun’s already setting; we have to get this started. Everything has to be completed before dawn. Get all of the supplies out of the car and take them to the dock.” Persephone opened the trunk of her car. Shelly and Rick gathered the items and moved as quickly as they could to the dock. “What are you standing around for?”
“I’m here to do one thing, and she’s waiting for me in
there.” Persephone pointed south, an unpleasant grin appeared on her face.
“You won’t get the chance unless everything is properly completed,” countered Lizbet. She spied Herbert coming around the house and gave Persephone one more order. “Just clean the dock. I’ll do the rest.” Persephone rolled her eyes again and sauntered across the lawn.
Walking in the open wasn’t something Herbert would normally have done. With Royal tied up, he felt perfectly safe striding into the clearing. He rounded the house to see Lizbet looking vexed.
“Oh, Herbert!” cried Lizbet. Her worried tone and expression made his heart beat a little faster.
“What is it?”
“Gerald’s not here, nor is Byron. I fear something is wrong. We can’t have any mistakes, Herbert. There’s been so much planning, and work, and time involved...” Lizbet was in a near panic. It was so unlike her that Herbert felt compelled to take the lead. It wasn’t a position he favored as he had such a tendency to get caught up in his fantasies. Lizbet was usually the one to bring him to his senses. He needed her guidance now more than ever because his mind kept wandering to Heather Dixon, the prize he’d been wanting for so long. He wouldn’t even get the pleasure of dispatching her. The Lord had given that privilege to Persephone. Royal was his responsibility, and he would stick to the plan for Lizbet’s sake.
“I’ll take care of it, Lizbet. You get things ready.” Herbert propped the rifles against the house–they were no use to him–and he headed east at a full run. If anyone was to blame for this debacle, it was most likely Royal. He was much cleverer than Dixon and Campbell. They had no idea what was going to happen. When Herbert reached the ash tree, he saw Jim struggling to free himself. His first instinct was to slice Jim’s throat. He was useless. But Lizbet said that Jim was needed, and it would upset her if Herbert killed him too soon. Herbert untied him. Jim vomited when he sat up. “I told you not to get too close to him.”