“Archer,” I said. “I’m never going to tell you that what you did to Eric wasn’t that bad, but it’s done. I know you’re sorry, and Eric forgave you.”
“I know,” he said. “But his forgivness has to mean something.”
I was distracted again by a dog barking. The noise was getting closer.
“I need a favor from you,” Archer said.
I looked back to him, ignoring the noisy dog.
“Okay.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Archer said. “But you’re a magnet for trouble.”
“What?” I said. “How so?”
Archer actually managed a laugh. “Let’s see, you were nearly killed by the same guy who killed Jared. You were nearly blown up by me. Sorry about that, by the way.” He was ticking each item off on his fingers.
“Neither of those were my fault.”
“I know,” Archer said. “But look, that day when you stopped me from hurting myself, you told me that there was something out there that wanted McKnights and Blackburns to hate each other. Did you mean Scarlett? Because I didn’t get that impression.”
“No,” I said. “It wasn’t just her.”
“What were you talking about?” He looked hesitant. “If you don’t want to tell me—”
“No,” I said. “I think you should know, but it’s kind of weird.”
Archer walked back to the car and hopped up to take a seat on the edge of the hood. I joined him. The night had grown very silent. Even the dog in the distance had stopped yapping.
“There are these things out there,” I explained, trying to put this in the simplest terms. “They’re not—human, but I can hear them talking, and they’ve been plotting against me since I first came here. When I see them, it’s like they’re just made out of shadows. They were behind Jared’s death.”
He looked surprised. “I thought Weeder—?”
“Weeder pulled the trigger,” I interrupted. “But they told him to do it. I mean, he knew what he was doing, but they wanted it done. They also talked to both Scarlett and Balthazar. I think they’ve been in Spirit for a long time, and that they want our families to keep fighting. Maybe they’re even behind that curse.”
Archer slid off the hood of the car and walked away from me for a moment. I wasn’t sure what was going through his mind. Did he think I was insane? Or was he thinking he should keep his distance?
He turned and walked back toward me. To my surprise, he was laughing.
“Okay. This brings me back to the favor I was going to ask of you. Whatever it is that’s going on with these shadow things—is it over?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “The way I see it, it won’t ever be over unless we figure out how to break this curse.”
Archer nodded.
“On the day you saved me, you said you needed people you can trust. I want you to know that you can trust me. I want you to trust me. And the next time something happens, I want you to let me protect you. I know you can look out for yourself, and you’ve got Payne. But I want to help.”
I smiled at him. I knew that I needed all the help I could get. I tried to think of something to say to express my gratitude, but that dog had started barking again. It was even closer now.
“I wish that dog would just stop barking,” I said with an exasperated eye roll.
“What?” Archer asked.
I turned and stared at Archer.
“That dog barking?” Studying the perplexed look on his face, I realized that he had no idea what I was talking about. “You don’t hear it, do you?”
He shook his head. If I was hearing the dog and Archer couldn’t, that meant only one thing.
“Well, you said wanted to help.”
I slid off his car and headed towards the barking. Archer followed.
“What’s going on?”
When I stopped short, and turned around, Archer was still looking for the pooch in question.
“Keep up,” I told him, and motioned for us to start walking again. “I hear a dog. Do you hear one?”
Archer looked in the direction I had been walking. I could see him listening closely. Finally, he shook his head.
“Maybe your hearing is better than mine.”
I made a face.
“You’d have to be deaf.”
Archer followed me. “So, what does that mean? Is it not a dog? Is it one of those shadow things?”
“What?” I said. “No, they don’t come in canine form. It must be a ghost.”
Archer stopped short and grabbed my arm.
“A what? You’re telling me you can hear the bark of a dead dog?”
“Yup,” I answered. “You coming?”
Archer’s eyes were wide in disbelief, but he quickly started walking, and stepped in front of me.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Look,” Archer said, “I know that you can take care of yourself, but I’m not taking chances.”
“Don’t be silly,” I said. “It can’t hurt me. I’ve been around ghosts since I was a little girl, and I’ve never been afraid of a single one. They can’t hurt me and they’ve never wanted to. And your life isn’t less valuable than mine.”
“If I let anything happen to you, Payne would kill me.”
“Whatever,” I said. “Just c’mon. I think the barking is coming from this direction. Down this dirt road.”
We were in an area of undeveloped land. We were on a narrow dirt path that took us through the tall trees and bushes. The sun had just set in the distance and the moon, nice and full in the sky, would be our only illumination.
I walked down the path, listening to the sound of the bark getting louder. Archer was right behind me the entire way. The trail went up a hill for a bit. Just as we reached the top, I saw it. There was a dog towards the bottom of the hill, barking its head off. It was watching me. Its tail was wagging and it spun around a few times in excitement.
“There it is,” I said, pointing at the hill. “I assume you don’t see any dog waiting for us.”
Archer followed my gaze.
“Nope,” he said. “What does it look like?”
It was a medium to a large breed. It had black and white short hair, with a small snout, and floppy ears. It barked and whined and spun again.
“Like a dog,” I told him. “This way.”
“You do this with Payne a lot?” He asked. “Follow around dead dogs?”
“Not so much the dead dogs,” I said. “Usually it’s people. Most of the time if there’s an animal, it’s just a projection from a human ghost. Are you okay with this?”
“Yeah,” Archer said as we trudged down. He grinned. “It’s kinda cool.”
As I approached the dog, it jumped up and down then took off further down the road.
“It wants us to follow it,” I said.
“Of course it does,” he said. “You think we’re going to find some kid stuck down a well?”
“I hope not.” I decided to change the subject. “Can I ask you a question? Are you, you know, dating anyone right now?”
When I first came to Spirit, he’d had a new girlfriend every week, but it had been months since I’d heard about him hanging out with anyone except his family.
There was a moment of awkward silence.
“No,” he finally said. “Used to be easy, but these days, I don’t know. I think I’m looking for something a little deeper.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve seen some of the girls that you’ve gone out with. I’d call them dense, maybe, but not deep.”
I heard Archer laugh.
“Why the interest in my love life?” he asked. “You don’t think I’ve got the hots for you?”
That was something that had crossed my mind, especially considering what happened with Dante. His sister had pushed him to the breaking point, but he’d died because he had been in love with me. I realized how egotistical that made me sound, so I racked my brain for something to say that would convince Archer th
at wasn’t what I was getting at.
“Nooooo,” was all I sputtered.
It wasn’t my best line.
Next thing I knew, Archer stopped in front of me, and turned around to look me in the eyes.
“Bristol, I’m not falling for you. I’m a little jealous of what you and Payne have, but I’m not, uh, into you that way.”
“Good,” I said, feeling my cheeks burn. “Sorry. It must sound like I’m full of myself. And it’s not that—I mean, you’re great, but I’m very much in love with Payne.”
“I know,” Archer said. “Look. I’m happy for you. Let’s just say I may love you, but the same way I love Hunter. Y’know what I mean?”
I smiled, and leaned in to give Archer a hug. “Thanks.”
The dog began barking again. It was just a little bit farther down the path by a cluster of trees.
“This way,” I said. We headed towards the trees. As we got closer, the dog ran behind one of the shrubs. Just as it disappeared, so did the barking.
I stopped short and listened.
“What is it?” Archer asked. “Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know,” I answered. “It went behind that tree, and now it’s gone.”
Archer stepped around me and headed in that direction.
“This one?” he pointed to the correct tree, and I nodded. I started to move forward, but Archer held up one hand. “No, you stay there. Let me check it out.”
“Archer...”
“No,” he insisted. “Just stay.”
Archer pushed through the shrubbery to get around the tree. I inched closer and could hear him rustling around. I was tempted to ignore what he had told me and just follow. After all, the dog was a ghost. Sure, it may have been unusual for me to encounter animal ghosts, but it wasn’t unheard of. No ghost had ever given me anything to worry about.
Until I had come to Spirit, I had always felt more comfortable around ghosts then I ever did with somebody who had a pulse.
“Hey,” Archer called. “Come back here.”
My, how things had changed.
Gingerly, I made my way around the tree. When I got to the other side, I saw him kneeling by the base of the tree. Right in front of him was the dog that had led us here.
“She’s dead,” Archer said. “But she’s not alone.”
I came closer. Under the dog’s abdomen were about six puppies. Each looked like teeny tiny versions of their mother, most of them black with white patches. One was almost completely white, with a brown patch over its left eye.
“She must have died here. These puppies can’t be more than a few days old.”
Somebody must have abandoned her. She didn’t look wild.
“Who would do something like that?”
Archer stood up and pulled out his cell.
“A real piece of work,” He said. “Let me call my Uncle Hershel. He’s a vet. And I’ve got a box and a blanket in the back of my car. You think you’ll be alright here for a few minutes? Keep an eye on them?”
I nodded.
“I’m fine. Go.”
Archer dashed off. The small pups were mewling around. I moved closer to them. My eyes were drawn to the white one. It was the runt, but I just had this sense that it was special.
Their mother was cold. It was early March, and still pretty cold at night. The puppies had probably been kept warm by the mother’s body heat up until now, but they were shivering now.
“We’ll make sure they get good homes,” I promised. I gently placed my hand on the mother’s body.
Someone was sketching a dog. I didn’t think it was the same dog I was touching now, but it was hard to tell when the drawing was done in pencil, on what looked like a napkin. The illustration wasn’t very detailed, only a few steps above a stick figure. The room they were sitting in was dark and damp and filthy. As was the artist.
The person drawing was a young boy, about nine or ten. He was small, with messy straw colored hair that was nearly as dirty as the floor in the room he was in. He finished the drawing and then he took it to a small mat lying on the floor in the corner of the room. There was a small open box next to the mat, and inside was a piece of toast with a small smear of peanut butter on it. It was mostly eaten, but the last bite looked it had been sitting there for a while. Days, maybe.
The boy swallowed it quickly, making a face that told me that it wasn’t very appetizing. Using his finger, he made sure to get each and every crumb on the plate before setting it back down. He then placed the napkin where he could see it and curled up on the dirty mat, next to the box. He had no blanket to keep him warm, just a dirty t-shirt two sizes too big and small, ripped pajama bottoms that were too short.
He closed his eyes, and started to doze off when a sudden bang came from outside the room. I watched the boy stir. Another bang echoed through the room. This one was closer. The boy’s eyes were wide with fear. It wasn’t fear of the unknown. He knew what was coming.
And he was terrified.
Shaking as the vision ended, I heard a noise and looked up to see that Archer had returned carrying a box stuffed with blankets.
“My uncle said we should try and bring the mother with us. Can you carry the puppies?”
I nodded. Archer quickly put them into the box and covered them with one blanket. I got up and he handed me the box. He used another blanket to scoop up the mother.
“You okay?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“Another vision,” I said. Archer looked curious, but I shook my head. “I’ll tell you later. Let’s get these little guys someplace safe.”
“Okay,” he said. He looked uncertain, but we started walking.
As we came into the clearing, I saw the mother again. She was sitting, looking at me as I carried her babies away. She raised one paw and gave one last bark before fading away.
“So tell me what you saw again,” Uncle Mark said to me.
I called him from the road. He’d shown up at the vet with Payne, so the four of us were sitting in Dr. McKnight’s waiting room, waiting for news on the puppies and their mother. Payne held my hand as I told them what happened. Archer sat nearby, writing something with a pencil and paper.
I took a deep breath and tried to recall the details of the vision. I relayed what I could. Uncle Mark asked me several questions, but I wasn’t able to give him much detail to work with. I felt more and more helpless each time I had to respond with I don’t know, or I’m not sure.
“You had the vision when you touched the mother,” Payne said, when Uncle Mark couldn’t think of anything else to ask. “So wouldn’t the boy and the dog be connected? Anyone who could hurt and terrify a kid wouldn’t hesitate to abandon a pregnant dog.”
“It’s a good theory,” Uncle Mark said.
It did make sense, but it just didn’t feel right. Something was telling me it wasn’t going to be that easy.
“Here,” Archer said as he came over to me and presented the piece of paper that he’d been working on. “Does this look like him?”
I took the paper and studied it. It was a pretty detailed drawing of a boy that did match, more or less, the description that I had given. I had no idea Archer had that sort of talent.
“I think so,” I said. “I can’t be sure. The flash came so fast and was so hard to see. It’s definitely in the right direction. It’s really good.”
Uncle Mark took the picture and studied it himself.
“You mind if I keep this?” he asked Archer.
“Please,” Archer said. “Anything I can do to help.”
I was going to tell Archer how much he had helped when the door to the back opened and Dr. McKnight came out. He was a good looking man, about five ten, with a thin frame and boyish face. He looked very young except for the touch of grey in his dark hair. He was probably one of the smaller McKnights that I’d seen. He was dressed in blue slacks and a grey shirt, and wore a white lab coat on top. There was a stethoscope around his neck and a few dog co
okies in the pocket of his coat.
“Those puppies are very lucky you and Bristol found them when you did,” Dr. McKnight said as he leaned on the door frame. “I took a look at the mother. She just died earlier today I think, probably no more than a few hours before you and Archer found them. I doubt that the pups would have lasted through the night.”
“Are they going to be alright?” I asked.
“They’re a bit undernourished,” He said. “But I think they’ll be fine. Bit of a weird coincidence.”
“How so?” Payne asked.
“I’ve got another dog back there,” Dr. McKnight explained. “Pregnant stray hit by a car. The driver felt horrible. Her litter was stillborn, so I’ve put the puppies in with her. She’s nursing them. We’ll keep an eye on everyone overnight.”
“Can I see them?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said and led us in the back.
As soon as we passed into the kennel area, I could hear barking and meowing. There were a few pens there with dogs and cats, some with those cones around their necks and sad embarrassed looks on their faces. There was an orderly back there that nodded hello to us. In the back of the room was a small pen with the puppies and a larger dog with a fluffy beige coat of hair and a long nose.
“They aren’t the same breed of dog,” I said. “Are they?”
“No,” Dr. McKnight said. “She’s a golden retriever. The pups are boxers. It’s not unusual for this to happen, but like I said, we’ll keep watch. If Betty rejects any of them, we can always bottle feed.”
I nodded as I leaned in. I wanted to touch them and let them know they were going to be all right, but Dr. McKnight stopped me.
“Right now, what’s best for them is to be left alone with Betty.”
“When can we start to find them homes?” I asked.
“Not for at least eight weeks,” Dr. McKnight answered. “Ten might be better. We’ll see how they do.”
I looked to Uncle Mark who was watching the puppies. He had a small smile on his face as the little dogs yawned and moved about.
“We should take one,” I said, surprising myself more than anyone.
Uncle Mark’s eyebrows went up in astonishment.
Vision of Sacrifices Page 3