9 Tales From Elsewhere 13

by 9 Tales From Elsewhere

  ‘There was quite a gathering at the funeral, wasn’t there?’ A man was at my side. He was elderly, grey hair swept back from a lined, weather-beaten face. I didn’t know him.

  ‘You don’t recognise me, do you?’ he said. ‘I was at your wedding, but then you probably had other things on your mind at the time. I’m Clive, Matt’s uncle.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I don’t remember you.’

  ‘No reason you should. As I said, it was quite a gathering, as it is now.’

  ‘Matt would have been pleased. He had no idea how popular he was.’

  Clive took my arm and steered me gently to the corner of the room. ‘I wasn’t talking about the mourners,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I meant those vile things hovering about by the cemetery wall.’

  I caught my breath. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ I made to move away but he still had hold of my arm.

  ‘Really?’ he said. ‘You surprise me. I was watching you throughout the funeral. I was certain you’d seen them too. I call them shades.’ He let go of my arm and made to walk away.

  ‘Wait,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry. I did see them.’

  He allowed himself a slight smile. ‘Thought so. I can usually tell. We’re few and far between, Chrissy, people like us, people who have the sight. We need to talk. But not here. Are you at home tomorrow? I could call round. Shall we say about four?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Four.’

  And then he was gone, swallowed up in the sea of mourners. I was shaking, my whole body trembling. I took a glass of wine from a table and sipped it, the glass rattling against my teeth. But a strange kind of warmth was spreading through me. For the first time since the accident I’d stopped feeling alone.

  Clive Merrimen arrived promptly at four the next day, dressed for work, the white clerical collar glinting in the afternoon sun.

  ‘I didn’t realise you were a vicar,’ I said as I poured him a coffee.

  ‘Oh this,’ he said pulling out the arc of white plastic and opening the top button of his shirt. ‘Yes, sorry. I’ve come from a General Synod meeting. I’m afraid I didn’t have time to change.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘I’m not religious,’ I said, feeling strangely defensive.

  ‘Nor was I particularly. I come from an old fashioned family. My elder brother went into the army. The idiot son was always sent into the church. Though hopefully I’ve proved over the years that I’m not the idiot my parents thought me to be.’ He sipped his coffee. ‘Ah, that’s better. I needed the caffeine. So, when did all this start?’

  ‘After my accident,’ I said, leading him through to the lounge. He sat down on the couch, crossing his long legs and setting his mug down on the table at the side.

  I carried on, telling him everything that had happened since the crash, up until Matt’s death. I couldn’t bring myself to go over that. It was too soon and I was too raw. ‘How about you. When did you start seeing these... these things?’

  ‘Ever since childhood. I think it was what decided my parents that I wasn’t… shall we say… the full ticket.’

  ‘What are they?’ I said.

  ‘Disaffected souls, I suspect, though I’m not one hundred per cent sure. If you believe that actions in your present life affects your status in the next then the explanation fits. I happen to believe in pure evil. I believe that some people are just born bad, with nothing to redeem them, and I think that when they die they are trapped here by their own actions in this life.’

  ‘Surely that’s not a very Christian attitude,’ I said.

  He shrugged. ‘Maybe not, but a lifetime of experiencing these things has only confirmed that belief. How did Matt die?’

  The question came from nowhere and shook me. It was if he could tell I was holding back. ‘The doctors said he suffered a massive stroke,’ I said hesitantly

  ‘But you don’t believe that, do you?’

  He was looking at me intently, his dark brown eyes fixed on my face.

  I shook my head, took a deep breath and told him what had happened the evening Matt died. ‘I think Slater’s spirit, or whatever you chose to call it, killed him as a way of punishing me.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, nodding his head slowly. ‘That would be the most likely scenario. This Slater character probably blames you for his death. At least that seems the most likely explanation. The question is, how do we stop him? Because I know from experience that it won’t end here. These things, these shades...’

  ‘I call them Dark Souls,’ I said, interrupting him.

  ‘Dark Souls, yes, I like that. Describes them perfectly. Anyway, as I was saying, these Dark Souls, have no conscience, no finer feelings whatsoever. I hate them. They’re evil, vicious…’ His face twisted into a mask of bitterness. ‘They took my wife, and my son,’ he said, his voice dropping to a whisper.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Ancient history now. But I made a promise to myself then, that I would never rest until I’d found a way to drive them back into the Hell where they belong.’

  ‘So this is something of a personal crusade,’ I said – and not about Matt and me at all, I said to myself silently.

  ‘You could put it like that.’

  ‘So, where do we start?’

  ‘Oh, the grave I suppose. The grave of this Slater character. He’s a fresh soul, still throbbing with the memories of his corporeal life. It would make him very strong and a magnet for others of his kind. That’s why there are so many with him now. Well, are you up for it?’

  ‘I don’t really have any choice, do I? I don’t think they’re going to go away, do you?’

  He shook his head, finished his coffee and got to his feet. ‘Shall we go then?’

  I was startled. ‘You mean now? We should go now?’

  ‘I don’t think we can waste time.’

  ‘But I don’t know where he’s buried, or even if he was buried. He might have been cremated for all I know.’

  ‘No,’ Clive Merrimen said. ‘He was buried... and I know where. We’ll go in my car, if that’s all right with you.’

  We reached Blackacre Cemetery in thirty minutes.

  ‘How did you know where he was?’

  Clive smiled. ‘I made a few phone calls last night. Sometimes it helps to be in the trade.’

  We left Clive’s battered Ford in the car park and walked through the gates to the cemetery. The place was deserted. I let Clive lead the way, as he seemed to know where he was going. Eventually we reached a fresh grave. Bouquets and sprays of brown, dead flowers covered the surface. It looked like the grave hadn’t been visited since it was dug.

  ‘What now?’ I said.

  Clive was rummaging in the pocket of his jacket. He produced a small glass phial. ‘First this,’ he said holding up the phial. ‘Holy water.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, barely able to contain my disappointment. Somehow I’d been expecting more, not just religious cant. Clive unstoppered the phial. He spoke a few words of Latin and poured the water over the grave. I watched bleakly. Had the earth begun to heave and lift I might have been impressed, but nothing happened.

  Next he took a large crucifix from the inside pocket of his jacket and brandished it in front of him, speaking more Latin verses, his voice rising in volume.

  I wanted to go home. This was a complete waste of time. It served me right for pinning my hopes on a man whose philosophies were so alien to my own.

  I was watching him as he spoke, waving the cross in front of him like a shield. It was only out of the corner of my eye that I saw something large and black skimming across the ground towards us. Clive must have sensed it as he turned just before the black amorphous cloud swept over him.

  He cried out as the crucifix was plucked from his grasp and sent spinning through the air. The blackness completely enveloped him and he was lashing out with his arms, flailing wildly, at the same time shouting a litany of holy words, calling for the protection o
f his God.

  I reached out for him but a shadow loomed in front of me and I was lifted off my feet and hurled backwards. I crashed shoulder first into an ancient gravestone, knocking my head and landing awkwardly on my wrist. I hissed with pain as I felt a bone crack.

  Clive was struggling with the black shadow. Struggling and losing. He was on his knees. At least that was what it looked like. It was only when I cleared my head and looked again that I saw he was being pulled bodily down into the ground. His legs had sunk thigh deep and his movements were becoming slow, feeble.

  He’s going to die, I thought. We’re both going to die, just like Matt. I carried the thought with me as I pushed myself to my feet and reached out again for Clive’s hand.

  As our fingers touched a blinding white light crackled around us. Clive’s eyes opened and he stared at me, a look of confusion on his face. The white light suffused his body and he started to rise from the ground. Inch by inch his legs were pulled free of the earth. At the same time the black shadow around him started to recede, shrinking away from the light.

  The scream started as a whisper and rose to a deafening crescendo as the light ripped apart the shadow like a flimsy rag. I caught a glimpse of a face in the blackness. Slater’s face, twisted into an expression of rage and agony as fragments of the shadow were caught in a fierce wind and blown away.

  Seconds later it was over. Clive was standing, arms outstretched, hair blown across his face, incomprehension in his eyes. His left hand was clenched into a tight fist. He held it out to me, opened his fingers and dropped something hard and metallic into my upturned palm.

  Matt’s signet ring, the heavily engraved crest catching the last rays of the afternoon sun, glittering like the light of a new dawn.

  I put it to my lips and kissed the gold.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Clive said.

  I smiled at him.

  I did.

  ‘I love you, Matt,’ I said softly, then linked my arm through Clive’s and together we walked from the cemetery.

  The End

  2.

  THEY MOVE

  By Steven Reasonover

  The dust and rock were hot under the desert sun in Egypt. Kurt stared at the cave as Trent switched the on button of the robotic rover.

  “Are we live?” Kurt asked.

  “We’re in business,” Trent said.

  Trent jerked his thumb up on the boxy remote control and the rover rolled to the entrance of the cave.

  “Do you really think the treasure is inside?” Kurt asked.

  “Heck if I know. But if it is, I’m taking the gold,” Trent said.

  “Will they let us keep it?”

  Trent shot Kurt a glance like it was a dumb question.

  “I didn’t come all this way just for a look.”

  “But you heard what Murray said. The gold is—”

  “Do you really believe his story—that the gold ate them?”

  “What if it’s true?”

  Trent shook his head and watched the rover disappear into the shadows of the cave.

  “If I find gold, I’m keeping it. Are you with me?”

  Kurt had a tentative expression on his face, like he wasn’t one to break rules.

  “Are you?” Trent asked.

  Kurt scratched the back of his neck and nodded without looking at him.

  “Why don’t you go back to the tent and check the screen—see if the camera’s working,” Trent said.

  Kurt went inside the tent filled with electronic gear, laptops, and radio equipment. He sat at a desk and watched the screen on the laptop as the camera on the rover displayed the dark of the cave.

  “Turn on the light,” Kurt said.

  Trent pushed a button on the remote and Kurt saw the rover illuminate the tunnel of the cave. Trent paced inside the tent and sat on a rolling chair beside Kurt. Trent guided the rover carefully as he watched the camera on the screen.

  “You know they put Murray in the nuthouse,” Trent said.

  “I heard.”

  “So why do you—”

  “I know it sounds impossible, but even the locals are afraid of the cavern. Legend has it that—”

  “Do you see that? It looks like a stake.”

  Kurt squinted and saw the foot high stake several yards in front of the rover. “That… that must be where the team went,” he said.

  “I’m gonna follow it! The report said the team left a trail of ten to the treasure.”

  Trent jerked his thumb up hard on the remote and the rover sped to ten miles per hour—maximum speed. Minutes passed as they drank water bottles and sweat beaded down their chins.

  “How much longer?” Kurt asked as he skimmed Murray’s report.

  “I passed six stakes already. Five minutes, tops,” Trent said.

  Kurt nodded and said, “It says in the report that Murray didn’t take any of the gold with him.”

  “Yeah right.”

  “It also says that Murray believes the gold was cursed—said it belonged to a queen in the East Indies until the pirates stole it. They stowed it away here, but the gold became possessed—killed the pirates and everyone that—”

  “Bunch of hogwash,” Trent said. “We’re scientists for Christ sakes. Don’t believe anything Murray says. He’s a nutcase.”

  Kurt grinned. “Then why did the team disappear?”

  “They don’t buy Murray’s story. If they did, we wouldn’t be collecting evidence against him.”

  Kurt put the report down on the desk and grinded his teeth. He watched the screen and asked, “So you think Murray single handedly took out the entire team?”

  Trent sighed. “You know how people are these days. Heck, you see it on the news all the time: man goes on a rampage with a pistol and—”

  “I don’t buy it. Murray was one of the best geologist in the—”

  “Look! I’ve reached the tenth stake,” Trent said.

  They watched the screen as the rover entered the cavern. It glowed yellow and their jaws dropped—stunned by the riches displayed before them.

  “Slow it down,” Kurt said.

  “I know what I’m doing, just watch the gauges.”

  “Power is at twenty percent.”

  “You didn’t add the extra battery pack?”

  “You shouldn’t have sped the entire—”

  “Shush! Look at that!”

  They saw mountains of gold coins and treasure chests and golden statues of demigods. Their hearts raced and they felt like they could almost touch them.

  Kurt rubbed his eyes and asked, “Do you see anyone from the team?”

  “Who cares; we’re gonna be rich!”

  “You know we can’t go in there.”

  “Who’s gonna know? Gordon is thousands of miles away in Washington. This will be between us.”

  Kurt scratched his neck. “Just search the area and grab a sample as we were told.”

  Trent slammed his hand on the table and turned to Kurt. “Can you stop being a goody two-shoe? Man up! This is our chance to make it rich. No one has to know. We’ll have enough to buy an island. Heck, you can—”

  “But it’s cursed.”

  Trent’s eyes widened. “You can’t be serious?”

  “If we take the gold, the curse will follow us wherever we—”

  “Fine,” Trent said as he set the remote control down.

  He wore on a helmet that was equipped with a camera, headlamp, earpiece, and microphone. He walked out of the tent and Kurt scuttled up behind him and gripped his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going in, what do you think?” Trent said in a stern tone.

  “You can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “B… because—”

  “You’re a fool if you think I’m gonna take orders from you or Gordon.”

  “They’ll find out.”

  “Not if you keep your mouth shut.”

  Kurt wiped the sweat from his brow as the sun glared in
his eyes.

  “Are you?” Trent asked.

  “Am I what?”

  “Are you gonna keep your mouth shut?”

  Kurt paced back to the tent and Trent followed and spun him around.

  “Don’t walk away from me!”

  “I don’t want any part of this.”

  Trent poked Kurt’s chest with his finger and said, “Just keep your mouth shut pal. You’re as guilty as me. I’ll tell Gordon you were—”

  “I won’t say a word,” Kurt said with a blank expression on his face.

  Trent cracked a smile and said, “Good, I knew you had it in you.”

  Kurt went inside the tent and sat at the desk and sipped his water bottle.

  Trent said, “Can you see my camera from the laptop?

  “Yeah.”

  “Can you hear me?”

  “Loud and clear.”

  “I’m going in, tell me if you see anything funny.”

  “Yup.”

  Trent traversed the cave for a half hour as the temperature rose to ninety-five degrees inside. He was exhausted and fatigued and had considered several times to turn back and call it quits, but his hunger for the treasure pushed him forward. When he reached the cavern, the glow of the gold welcomed him like a breeze of fresh air. His heart raced as his senses were overwhelmed by riches beyond his wildest imagination.

  “Do you see any bodies?” Kurt asked.

  “Stop asking about the bodies. Do you see all of this?”

  “Of course I do. Don’t take anything, no matter how tempting it might be.”

  “Yeah right.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Me too.”

  Trent opened treasure chests, which spilled out with gold coins and jewelry. In a state of frenzy, he pocketed as many as he could.

  “You have to stop,” Kurt said.

  “I’m done listening to you,” Trent said and then turned off the earpiece.

  Once his pockets were full, he giddily grabbed as many bags of coins as he could. As soon as his arms were full, he strutted up to a golden statue of the queen in the center of the cavern. She was slim and had on a long garment and a wreath. Trent chuckled and waved a goodbye to her as he backpedaled out of the cavern. Suddenly, she winced and her mouth gaped. Trent’s heart almost stopped.