The First Church

by Ron Ripley

“The dead speak Japanese,” Shane said.

  “And Brian called you?” Ellen asked. Before Shane could answer she turned to Charles. “No. Charles called you.”

  Charles cleared his throat nervously.

  Ellen shook her head and remained quiet.

  “Anyway,” Charles said a moment later. He gave the box a pat. “You’ll need to have this with you when you grab the skulls. I also included a pair of white cotton gloves for each of you. If these skulls are as bad as you say, then you’re going to want to have the gloves on.”

  “What for?” Brian asked.

  “Some objects,” Charles said, “have this negative effect when there’s direct contact between them and flesh. This may not be the case with the skulls, but, as I’m sure you’ll agree, it’s much, much better to be safe than sorry.”

  Brian nodded.

  “Does the box lock?” Shane asked.

  Charles nodded. “I’ll give you the key in a minute. Just listen first, please. You make sure this box is open, and as soon as you have the skulls, you put them in and close the damned lid. And you lock it. Understood?”

  Brian and Shane nodded.

  “Good,” Charles said. He pulled a key out of his pocket and handed it to Shane.

  “Now, Charles,” Brian said, “what do we do about the second batch of skulls?”

  Charles frowned.

  “What second batch?” Ellen asked.

  “Well, the six skulls are separated into two groups of three,” Brian said. “What do we do when we have to put the second group in?”

  “I will help.”

  The four of them jumped as Leo appeared by Brian.

  “Did I frighten you?” Leo asked.

  Ellen shook her head angrily and got back into the truck. She slammed the door closed, started the engine and turned on the radio.

  “The answer to your question, Leo,” Brian said as gently as possible, “would be ‘yes,’ you did scare us.”

  “I am sorry,” Leo said sincerely. “I did not mean to frighten you.”

  “It’s okay. You’re going to help them?” Charles asked.

  “Yes, I am going to help them,” Leo replied.

  “How?” Shane asked.

  Leo looked at him and said, “When the time comes, I will make sure the three ghosts go into the box.”

  Shane looked as though he wanted to ask more, but he didn’t.

  “However,” Leo said, “you are going to want to do all of this soon.”

  “Why?” Brian asked. “What’s happened, Leo?”

  “The First Church purchased the Hurlington House property,” Leo said.

  Shane frowned. “Why is that important?”

  “Since the Church owns the property now,” Leo said, “the boundaries of the Church have expanded.”

  “Oh,” Brian said softly.

  Shane sighed.

  “Has anyone else been hurt?” Brian asked.

  “Yes,” Leo answered.

  “How many?” Brian said.

  “There are two on the first floor, one on the second, and one on the third. There is also another on the lawn,” Leo replied.

  “And they’re all hurt?” Shane asked.

  Leo shook his head. “They are all dead. The one on the lawn was the last, and I am most curious about his death. They fired something at him, almost a spectral bullet. This is extremely interesting, Brian.”

  “Leo,” Brian said, “please, we don’t need any details.”

  “Oh,” Leo said. He looked closely at Brian. “I see you are upset about this.”

  “Yes, Leo,” Brian said. “I am upset about this.”

  “When you are dead you will not be upset,” Leo said confidently. “You will understand death, and therefore, it will hold no mystery for you. And without mystery, you will be without fear.”

  “Fantastic, Leo, fantastic,” Brian said, sighing. “Listen, I’m not dead, so I am upset, and let’s leave it there, okay?”

  “Okay,” Leo agreed, smiling.

  “Leo,” Shane said.

  “Yes, Shane?” Leo asked.

  “Should we get the ghosts in the house on Indian Rock Road first?” Shane asked.

  “Yes,” Leo answered.

  “Any particular reason why?” Brian asked.

  “Yes,” Leo said.

  Brian waited a moment, and when Leo didn’t answer, Brian said, “And what is the reason, Leo?”

  “Ah, yes,” Leo said, grinning. “The reason. It is simple. Miles Cunningham has already left his house with the fourth skull. He is making his way to the Church now. The house is unprotected by him.”

  “Excellent,” Shane said. “Let’s get the box into my truck, and then we can pick up Luke and Jim. Charles?”

  Charles nodded and the two men started to drag the heavy box out.

  “Shane,” Brian said hesitantly, “I really feel bad about bringing Luke and his grandson.”

  “You have to,” Leo said before Shane could answer.

  Charles and Shane managed to get the box onto the bed of the truck.

  “Who are Luke and Jim?” Charles asked, wiping the sweat off his brow.

  “A blind man and his teenage grandson,” Shane answered.

  “Jesus,” Charles said, looking at Brian. “Yeah, I can see why you feel bad about it, Brian.”

  “Why do we have to?” Brian asked Leo.

  “The dead will remember Luke,” Leo said. “They will see his eyes. They will understand him. They might even listen to him. But you must bring Luke, and Jim, and saké.”

  “Why saké?” Charles asked, looking confused.

  “Because they do not like to travel sober,” Leo said.

  “Hold on,” Shane said. “How the hell do ghosts get drunk?”

  “They drink,” Leo said, and he vanished.

  “Him disappearing,” Shane said, looking over at Brian, “is annoying the hell out of me.”

  Brian shook his head and chuckled. “Pretty sure it’s only going to get worse, my friend.”

  Chapter 55: Luke, Mr. Boyd, August 15, 1967

  “You look good, Luke,” Mr. Boyd said. “You look good.”

  The two of them sat on the older man’s porch and in spite of the August heat, Luke wore his blue uniform.

  “You spending all of your leave here?” Mr. Boyd asked.

  “Yes,” Luke said, and then he grinned, “it’s about all I can afford as a second lieutenant.”

  Mr. Boyd chuckled and nodded his head. “I won’t even tell you what they paid me as a Private when I enlisted, boy. Don’t worry, though, you’ll figure out how to make it stretch. Want a beer?”

  “Please,” Luke said.

  Mr. Boyd reached down into his cooler, pulled out a pair of bottles, popped the tops off and handed one to Luke.

  The beer was cold and strong, and Luke smiled. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” Mr. Boyd said. He drank some of his and after a minute he said, “You know it’s going to be hard?”

  Luke nodded.

  “We can tell you what to expect,” Mr. Boyd said. “How it’s going to sound and feel. But no one, no one can tell you how you’re going to react to combat. Some men break. Some men love it. Some men deal with it and put it behind them. Men you thought would lead the way, they’ll shrink back and run. Others, the little guy you never thought would be able to keep up on a march, hell, I’ve seen ‘em turn into gods of death.”

  Mr. Boyd shook his head. He looked at his beer, and then he smiled.

  “Just be true to your Marines, Luke,” Mr. Boyd said. “Let everything else fall by the road.”

  “Yes, sir,” Luke said.

  “Come on,” Mr. Boyd said, standing up suddenly. “I’ve got a going away party for you.”

  Luke got to his feet and asked, “What party?”

  Mr. Boyd chuckled and shook his head. “Come on, come on. Let’s not ruin the surprise.”

  Luke followed him into the house and to the war room. Mr. Boyd unlocke
d the door and led the way in.

  Even with Mrs. Boyd absent from the home, Mr. Boyd closed and locked the door behind him. Luke noticed several large bottles of saké by the skulls, as well as a bottle of Black Label whiskey.

  Luke looked over at Mr. Boyd.

  The man smiled. “They wanted to say goodbye as well.”

  The air shimmered slightly, and the dead Japanese men appeared. They looked younger, their uniforms fresh.

  “They appreciate a man who goes to war,” Mr. Boyd said. “They appreciate the warrior spirit.”

  One of the ghosts spoke in Japanese, and Mr. Boyd nodded before he turned to Luke and translated.

  “Ichiru wishes for you to have a safe journey to your war. He knows you will fight with honor,” Mr. Boyd said.

  One of the other men added a few words.

  Mr. Boyd chuckled. “And Sato, Sato hopes you’ll die well.”

  Luke laughed, bowed and said, “Please tell them I said thank you.”

  Mr. Boyd did so, and he poured the saké.

  Chapter 56: Traveling

  Luke sat in the front passenger seat of Brian’s car and listened to the various sounds of the engine. In his hands, he held a bottle of whiskey and wondered if the Japanese soldiers would accept the gift. Someone, and Luke suspected it was Miles, had bought out the local supply of saké.

  Again, he thought of the dead Japanese soldiers.

  He remembered them. He recalled the drinks they had together, and the stories the men had shared with him. Horrific tales of war, first in China, and then on islands in the Pacific.

  In his mind’s eye, Luke could picture them perfectly.

  Will they remember me? Luke wondered, shifting his hands on the bottle of Black Label. Will they care if they do?

  A flutter of fear passed through his stomach, and he coughed nervously.

  “Are you okay, Luke?” Brian asked.

  “Yes,” Luke replied. “Just a little nervous.”

  “Understandable,” Brian said.

  “I don’t like my grandson being here,” Luke said.

  “I know,” Brian said. “I don’t like him being here, either. I’d rather he was at home, safe.”

  “It’s alright,” Jim said. “I’m the only one who can help my grandfather get around places he doesn’t know. He doesn’t trust anyone else. You and Shane have to deal with the ghosts, right?”

  “Right,” Brian said, sighing.

  “James,” Luke said.

  “Yes, sir?” James asked.

  “Let’s go over this again, alright?” Luke said.

  “Yes,” James said with a grumble.

  Brian chuckled.

  “James,” Luke said, “where will you be the entire time we are in the house?”

  “By your side, holding onto your arm,” James said, wisely keeping his voice neutral.

  “And what will you do if I tell you to run, James?” Luke asked.

  “I will run, sir,” James answered.

  “Basically, what are you supposed to do, James?” Luke said.

  “Whatever you say, Grandpa.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s dangerous.”

  “Extremely so,” Luke said.

  “Remember what the ghosts did to you at the Church,” Brian said. “And remember what you saw in the graveyard, okay?”

  “I will,” James said in a low voice. “I will.”

  Luke shifted the bottle of whiskey in his hands, felt the cool glass beneath his fingers, and once more he wondered what they would find in the house.

  Chapter 57: Ten Indian Rock Road

  Shane had been watching the house for half an hour, and no one was in it. A Camry had been parked in the driveway when he first passed by an hour prior, but it was gone.

  He hadn’t seen any ghosts either, but then again he could only see a couple of windows.

  Miles Cunningham, the man with the skulls, had left.

  Probably with another ghost.

  Shane sighed and glanced into the back of the truck. The trunk the Gottesmans had dropped off was there. On his lap, he had a pair of white, cotton gloves. Brian had the other pair. Shane had already unlocked the container and made sure it could be opened easily.

  He swallowed nervously and felt sweat build up at the base of his skull.

  Shane knew what the dead were capable of. He knew what these particular ghosts were capable of.

  And none of it, absolutely none of it, was good.

  The sound of an engine caught Shane’s attention, and he turned towards it. A moment later, Brian’s car came around the corner and pulled up behind Shane’s pickup.

  Brian, Jim, and Luke got out of the car. The blind man held a bottle of Black Label whiskey.

  “Damn, Luke,” Shane said, grinning, “you must like your whiskey.”

  Luke smiled. “Love my whiskey. Breaks my heart having to share it with the dead.”

  The men chuckled, and Jim smiled.

  “Well,” Brian said, “this is going to be interesting. We’ll have to go into the house and pretty much stay together. Shane and I will be carrying the box. Jim, you’ll obviously be leading your grandfather. Luke, just don’t drop the whiskey.”

  “I won’t,” Luke said.

  “Since we’re looking for a fallout shelter,” Brian continued, “we’ll be going down into the basement. Shane and I will go first. If anything happens, I’d rather it be to us.”

  Shane nodded in agreement. “Let’s make sure nothing does happen.”

  “My grandpa already went through what I need to do,” Jim said.

  “And what’s that?” Shane asked.

  “Whatever he tells me to,” Jim answered.

  The men shared another chuckle.

  Shane turned to Brian. “Ready?”

  “Not at all,” Brian said. “But let’s get it done.”

  Together they pulled the box out of the trunk, and it was heavy.

  “For as much as this weighs,” Shane said, feeling sweat form under his arms and along his spine, “this damned thing better work.”

  “It will,” Brian said. “But it definitely isn’t good for my heart.”

  “Hey,” Shane said, “I’m not giving any mouth to mouth if you keel over. Just letting you know.”

  “Fair enough,” Brian said with a chuckle. “Fair enough.”

  Shane took the lead and crossed the street. Indian Rock Road was sparsely inhabited, and he hadn’t seen any traffic while he had waited. A few houses were further up, but nothing close to number ten.

  Small blessings, he thought.

  When they reached the side steps, he and Brian put the box down.

  “Don’t suppose you know how to pick a lock, do you?” Brian asked.

  “I do,” Shane said. He climbed the steps, opened the screen door, held it in one hand, and kicked.

  His boot landed solidly just at the deadbolt with enough force to rip the lock free of the frame. The wood screamed in protest, and the door whipped in and ricocheted off the interior wall.

  “I said ‘pick’,” Brian said with a smile.

  “Oh,” Shane said, grinning. “My bad. I thought you said ‘kick.’”

  “Well,” Brian said, “that works, too.”

  “I’ll check it out,” Shane said. “Be right back.”

  Shane left them on the side steps and entered the house. He flicked on the light and looked around. The place was in the process of being repaired, and whoever Miles Cunningham was, he was a good handyman. The floor was torn up, but the subfloor had been leveled. The drywall was bare of paint, but it looked as though it had been mudded properly.

  Too bad he’s crazy, Shane thought.

  Shane went directly to a pair of doors, one across from the other, just on the other side of the kitchen.

  The first door opened to a bathroom. The second led down into the basement.

  Jackpot, Shane thought. He turned on the basement light. In spite of how carefully he walked, each stair
squeaked loudly. When he reached the cement floor, he saw the basement was empty. A few bare bulbs were suspended from the ceiling and a water heater stood off to one corner. Beside it was a cheap, pressboard door.

  Shane walked to it, opened the door and looked into the furnace room.

  Now, if I were a paranoid man, living in the atomic era, where would I hide my end of the world bunker? Shane asked himself. Behind the furnace, of course.

  He went to the old machine, peered around the aged metal and caught sight of an open doorway.

  Beyond it was a room full of shelves, most of which were empty. But Shane did see some militaria, and he knew he was in the right place.

  Shane quickly slipped back up the stairs and to the others.

  “Did you find it?” Brian asked.

  “I did,” Shane said. “Behind the furnace in the basement. We’ll have to bring the box all the way down as close as we can.”

  Brian nodded. “Luke?”

  “Yes?” he asked.

  “When we get down there, we may or may not have the ghosts greet us. If we do, I think our best bet is for you to hold up the whiskey and tell them your name,” Brian said.

  “You don’t sound especially confident,” Luke said.

  “Probably because I’m not,” Brian said. “We’re going to need Jim down there, just off to one side. We can’t leave him up here because we need to carry the damned box and he needs to help you.”

  “I’ll be okay,” Jim said in a small voice.

  Shane looked at the boy and remembered his own fear as a child.

  “I know you will,” Shane said after a moment. “Just listen and do as you’re told.”

  “I will,” Jim said.

  “Ready, Brian?” Shane asked.

  “Yup. Gloves?” Brian asked.

  “Might as well,” Shane said. He and Brian took the white gloves out, put them on, and then they picked up the chest again.

  Wordlessly, they brought it into the house, navigated the stairs, and managed to get the container into the furnace room. Luke, with Jim’s assistance, followed them and soon all four stood together.

  “Alright,” Brian said. “Let’s do this. Luke, Jim, stay here. If we yell, Luke, offer it up.”

  “I will,” Luke replied. “Jim, stand by the door, please.”

  “To the shelter?” Jim asked.