The Library of the Dead

by Brian Keene

  A month slipped by before I gathered the nerve to test my newfound purpose. I still haunted Gary’s so I went to Josh’s old table and sat down. I closed my eyes, took a few deep breaths to calm my mind and center myself before I began the search for a new chimera. A tingle raced along my skin and then I felt the rush of air against my body.

  By the time my ass hit the concrete somewhere in the heart of the Tenderloin, my transformation was complete. I’d become a male this time, and a stinky one, too, judging by the smell coming off the trench coat I wore. Cars crawled by with bass-heavy music blaring and pushing the fetid air around. Pedestrians crossed in front of me but one pair of feet clad in orthopedic shoes stopped. I looked into the face of an older woman, her hair in a scarf and thick make-up cracked. She knelt.

  “Can you help me?” she said.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “What do you need help with?”

  She smoothed her hair through the scarf before she said, “I’m looking for my daughter. I lost her a long time ago and recently discovered she lived down here. It’s important I make amends with her soon.”

  “What’s her name and I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Jane.”

  “Does she play the violin by any chance?”

  “She used to. Why? Do you know her?”

  “I do.” I stuck out my hand. “I’m Allan, by the way.”

  “That was my son’s name.” After hesitating, she took my hand. I saw my purpose. “I’m Susan, and am I glad I ran into you. It’s all about balance, isn’t it?”

  More than you know, Susan.

  I’M GETTING

  CLOSER

  J.F. GONZALEZ

  It was Friday night, and Sarah and Jessica were walking aimlessly down 1st Street because they had nothing else to do. They’d spent the earlier part of the evening at Gott’s Roadside where they’d hung out with their friends and chowed down on burgers, fries, and milkshakes.

  The evening was pleasant with a nice breeze. It was dark out but still early, and streetlights kept the areas they hung out at very well lit. Jessica was nattering about a sophomore they knew at Napa High named Steve Beck. “He’s been, like, checking me out

  every day after school when we gather outside for the buses.”

  “Sure, Jessica,” Sarah said.

  She held her iPhone in one hand. Jessica thought every guy at Napa High had the hots for her.

  “You don’t believe me?” Jessica said.

  “Oh, I believe you,” Sarah said. Her iPhone chimed and there was a text message from her mother.

  Honey, it’s getting late and I’d like you to start heading home now.

  “Ughhh!” Sarah groaned.

  “Is that your mom?” Jessica asked.

  “She wants me to start heading home! It’s not even nine o’clock yet!”

  There was another cell phone chime and Jessica pulled her iPhone out. She groaned. “My mom wants me to come home too.”

  Sarah and Jessica resumed heading towards Silverado Trail.

  “Is your mom worried about the stalker?” Jessica asked.

  “Stalker? What are you talking about?”

  Jessica shrugged. “Some weirdo’s been following girls around town, trying to break into their homes. Apparently he’s, like, making this lame attempt to copy Bart Shafley.”

  “Who?” Sarah had no idea who Bart Shafley was.

  “You’ve never heard of Bart Shafley?”

  Sarah shrugged. “No. Why should I?”

  “So you didn’t hear that he died?” Jessica was a sucker for those stories and memes on Creepypasta and other websites. Sarah had the vague feeling that Jessica believed most of that stuff.

  “I don’t even know who he is!” Sarah exclaimed. “What blog did you read about him on?”

  “I didn’t read about him on a blog. He was on the news,” Jessica said, emphasizing the news part, as if this lent it more legitimacy. “Bart Shafley went to our high school ten years ago. Apparently he was a computer nerd and hacked into the school’s network and changed grades around, even hacked into their phone system. He was a stalker. He’d, like, follow girls around like a pervert. Anyway, he got fixated on this one girl named Amanda Brady. He hacked into her home computer, read a bunch of her diary entries and learned all about her. She had no idea he was obsessed with her until he snuck into her house one night and killed her.”

  “How’d he kill her?” They’d resumed walking up 1st Street and had reached the crosswalk on the green light and started across Silverado Trail. Jessica lived on Willow Avenue, the first street on the right after they crossed Silverado.

  “He smothered her,” Jessica answered. “Her parents found her. Shafley’s lawyer tried to have him committed to a psychiatric hospital but that’s really tough to do. He was tried as an adult and got a life sentence.” She paused. “Apparently he was really into the occult, too.”

  “The occult? You mean like, black magic and stuff?”

  Jessica nodded. “There was a story on the Internet that said his cellmate was scared of him because he was doing weird rituals and shit. That’s what got him killed.”

  Sarah didn’t respond for a few seconds. She’d honestly never heard of the Bart Shafley story and she and Jessica shared an affinity with websites like Creepypasta and sites of a similar ilk. The difference is, she saw these sites as entertainment, unlike Jessica who believed pretty much everything she read on the Internet.

  When she finally responded, Sarah asked, “So somebody’s like, trying to copy what this guy did?”

  Jessica nodded. “Apparently he’s been following girls around Napa Valley and if they’re using a smart phone he somehow hacks into them and, like, messes with them.”

  Sarah scoffed. “That’s dumb! What’s so scary about that?”

  They reached the other side of Silverado Trail and beneath the glow of the streetlamp Sarah caught a glimpse of her friend’s face. For the first time since she’d known her, Sarah thought Jessica looked scared. “Two girls have disappeared.”

  “Disappeared? What do you mean, disappeared?”

  “They disappeared! The hacker/stalker guy, like, kidnapped and killed them.”

  “Are you even sure he’s killing them? Before you said two girls have disappeared.”

  “Isn’t that what usually happens when girls turn up missing?”

  Sarah nodded. “Guess you’re right.”

  They said little as they resumed their walk up 1st Street toward Willow Street. The stalker/hacker story must have spooked Jessica, because she turned to Sarah and said, “Will you text me as you walk home?”

  “Sure.” Sarah offered her friend a smile. Everything will be okay.

  “Okay,” Jessica said, stepping off the curb to head down Willow Street toward her house. “Let me know when you get home.”

  “I will.”

  Sarah had a few blocks to go until she reached her own house.

  They said goodbye, and as Sarah made her way down 1st Street nearing Alta Avenue, she heard the chime of an incoming text message. It was from Jessica.

  I’m home, but I’m not going inside. My mom just pissed me off. Can I come to your house?

  Sarah stopped and looked at her iPhone. She couldn’t see Jessica, but could picture her standing on the sidewalk in front of her home. Still walking she carefully typed her response.

  Sure. I’ll wait for you to catch up. I’m still on 1st just past Alta.

  She pressed Send and waited.

  A moment later Jessica’s response came back.

  Keep going. I’ll just walk to your house and we can talk outside. I don’t want my mom to see me.

  Sarah frowned and looked back down 1st Street.

  Okay, whatever. I’ll wait for you outside my house.

  She hit Send and started heading home.

  A moment later there was a chirp from her iPhone. It sounded like Siri. She pulled out her phone and slowed down. Siri had been activated and Sarah was about to pres
s the Home button to de-activate it when the app’s computerized voice came through the iPhone’s speakers.

  “I’M GETTING CLOSER.”

  “What the fuck?” Sarah said aloud. She looked down the street where Jessica would be coming from but there was nobody there yet. Sarah had already reached East Avenue. She was about to head back the way she came when Siri spoke again.

  “I’M GETTING CLOSER TO YOU, SARAH.”

  This time, Sarah almost dropped her iPhone. Her heart hammered in her chest and she felt ice freeze in her veins. Her stomach fluttered as she brought up the phone. She pressed the Home button and went back into iMessage to type out a message to Jessica.

  Are you still heading toward my house?

  No response. Then the Siri app launched again almost immediately and Sarah gave a frightened yelp as it answered.

  “YES. I AM HEADING TOWARD YOUR HOUSE.”

  Sarah bolted. She made a left on East and continued on up to East Spring Street. By the time she reached it, she was panting. She slowed down, a stitch forming in her side, but she didn’t turn back to see if Jessica was behind her—surely Jessica would have rounded the corner of 1st Street by now.

  “I’M GOING TO YOUR HOUSE, SARAH,” Siri said.

  “Fuck this,” Sarah said. She started running again, but then stopped as the stitch in her side stabbed into her. With her heart pounding from adrenaline, she pressed the Call button on the iPhone and called home.

  Her mother answered. “Hi honey.”

  “Mom, can you come pick me up?”

  “Sure. I can have your dad come get you. Where are you?”

  “I’m on East Spring on the corner of East Street.”

  Mom’s voice grew concerned. “Are you okay, Sarah?”

  What should I say without sounding like an idiot or making her worried?

  “I’m just really tired and I have a stitch in my side. Can you have Dad come and get me?”

  “Sure, he’s leaving now.” She heard Mom tell Dad where Sarah was, and then her mom came back on the line. “He’ll be there in about a minute.”

  “Thanks.” She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. She opened them and looked back down the street. No sign of Jessica. “Will you stay on the line with me until Dad gets here?”

  “Are you sure you’re okay, Sarah?” Mom asked. That tinge of concern in her voice was amped up a bit more now.

  “I’m … I’m just kind of freaked out … that’s all.”

  “About what?”

  Sarah checked out her surroundings. The houses she was standing in front of were occupied; she could hear a TV in the background and she also heard a dog bark a few doors down. People were home. Nothing could happen to her out here. “Jessica and I were talking on the way home,” she began. “And Jessica told me about this guy copying Bart Shafley.”

  She repeated what Jessica told her about Bart Shafley’s past crime, the copycat who was going around town harassing teenage girls and how two girls in the area had already disappeared.

  “There’s been nothing in the news about girls disappearing,” Mom said. “Besides, that stuff doesn’t happen here. In Oakland, yes, in Napa, no.”

  Sarah thought, Yeah, of course shit like this happens in Oakland where all our relatives are buried in that creepy Chapel of the Chimes place. “But Jessica said—”

  “I know what Jessica told you, but it just isn’t true,” Mom said. “It’s true that a guy named Bart Shafley was recently killed in prison. I remember when he was arrested for murdering that girl.”

  “So that really happened?” Sarah asked.

  “Yes, that really happened,” Mom said. “But he went to prison and he was killed. That happens to guys who hurt or kill kids. The thing about girls disappearing, though? It isn’t happening or I would have heard about it. I check the news sites every morning.”

  “Then why would she say that?”

  “I don’t know, honey. You know Jessica is prone to telling stories.”

  Sarah felt a little better. She also felt a little embarrassed that she’d felt scared in the first place. She looked down the street toward Meek Street where she lived, but her Dad’s car hadn’t approached yet. She glanced back down the street; no Jessica, either.

  “You okay, honey?” Her mom sounded concerned. “You weren’t harassed by anybody for real, were you?”

  “I think I was,” Sarah said. “Mom, can Jessica—”

  Headlights from down the street. Sarah looked up and saw her Dad’s car heading toward her. “Here’s Dad!”

  “Can Jessica what, honey?”

  “Jessica wanted to come by tonight,” Sarah said, making up the story quickly. “She had a fight with her Mom.” She did a quick check to see if Jessica had caught up to her yet—she hadn’t. “Is it okay?”

  “I guess it’s okay with me if it’s okay with your dad.”

  “Great! Thanks!”

  Her Dad pulled up. Sarah told her mother they would be home soon, disconnected the call, and got into the car.

  As the car pulled away from the curb, Jessica said, “Can you make a left on Spring and see if Jessica’s there? She said she was following me home.” Sarah quickly brought her dad up to speed on what happened and how Jessica asked to hang out at their house for a little bit. Dad listened and they retraced Sarah’s route from where she and Jessica had split up.

  Sarah sat in the passenger seat of the car, leaning forward expectantly, looking out the window for her friend. She wasn’t anywhere in sight.

  They made a right on 1st Street and headed toward Willow Street where Jessica lived.

  “Maybe she decided to head back home,” Dad said.

  “If she did, why didn’t she call me?” Sarah said.

  “Why don’t you call her and find out where she is?”

  Sarah pulled out her phone and checked her Recent Call log. There was no record of Jessica, and Recent Texts showed Jessica’s last text was sent shortly before her Siri app got all weird.

  “Let’s just go home. I’m sure she just changed her mind, went home and decided not to tell me. That would be just like her.”

  Dad drove them home. After parking the car in the driveway, Sarah got out of the car and went in the house. Mom was on the sofa in the living room. The TV on, tuned in to some Home Improvement channel her mother wasn’t even watching. She was fiddling with her laptop. Their pit bull mix, Lady, came off the sofa and greeted Sarah, her tail wagging so hard her entire hindquarters were swishing from side to side, as if she was doing some weird interpretative dance. Dad was in the house almost immediately.

  “Mom, some weird stuff was happening with my Siri app.”

  Sarah pulled out her phone and, after greeting Lady, who insisted on being petted, she sat on the other end of the sofa and told her parents what happened.

  Mom and Dad glanced at each other.

  “I haven’t heard about girls disappearing,” Dad said.

  Sarah then told them about how she and Jessica had been texting and how Jessica’s texts to her seemed to activate Siri. “It was, like, I texted Jessica ‘Where are you?’ And Siri responded, ‘I’m following you, I’m heading to your house.’ I would text back to Jessica and it was Siri who answered!”

  Dad held out his hand. “Can I see your phone?”

  “Dad, it’s no big deal!”

  “Give him your phone, honey,” Mom said. Mom’s tone was absolute and firm. Sarah handed the phone to her dad.

  “Do you know Jessica’s home phone number?” Mom asked.

  “Yeah.” She rattled it off to Mom, who handed her the house phone. Sarah dialed the number and watched as Dad fiddled with her iPhone.

  After a dozen rings, Sarah looked at her mom. “Nobody’s answering.”

  “I can’t tell if Siri has been used or not,” Dad said. He looked confused. “It’s not like the application keeps a log or anything.”

  “Try her cell phone,” Mom said. She turned to Dad. “Give Sarah back her ph
one so she can call Jessica.”

  Dad handed the iPhone back. Sarah quickly brought up Jessica’s profile and called her. After three rings, Jessica picked up. “Are you okay?” Sarah asked. “Where are you?”

  “I’m at home,” Jessica said. She sounded sheepish. “Sorry. I was heading toward your house, but … I realized my mother would be even more mad at me if I decided to go to your house so I just came home.”

  Sarah turned to her mom and mouthed the words, She’s okay.

  Mom nodded. Dad just stood there. Why did dads just stand around like dorks when there was nothing going on?

  “Omigod, you are not gonna believe what happened!” Sarah moved toward the stairs to the second floor, already dismissing her parents. “You know that thing you told me about—”

  Her Dad’s voice stopped her as she headed upstairs. “When you’re finished talking to Jessica, come down with your phone.”

  Sarah nodded and headed upstairs. The fear she’d felt when Siri had spoken to her had dissipated, being replaced by a sense of relief that this was all behind her now. She went to her room, closed the door, and told Jessica what happened and how it felt like Jessica’s texts were coming through Siri.

  When she was finished talking to Jessica, she pulled out her laptop and got online. She was just logging on to Skype to talk to her friend in Canada when Dad called up to her from downstairs.

  “Jessica!”

  “Ugh!” Jessica grabbed her iPhone and scampered down the stairs. “Sorry,” she said, handing Dad the phone as she entered the living room. “I forgot to come down when I was done.”

  “It’s okay,” her dad said. “Let’s see what we have here.” He took the iPhone and accessed it. Jessica hovered close to him, biting her lower lip nervously. Her Dad worked in the IT field and was sometimes overbearing when it came to how she used her laptop and phone, but he’d fixed things pretty quickly in the past too. She watched as he went through the Settings screen. Mom was watching TV, their dog curled up beside her. After a moment Dad shook his head. “It doesn’t appear to be tampered with. You’re sure the voice that came from Siri said that she—meaning Jessica—was following you?”