Back From The Dead

particular school of thought, just that he’d pretty much rejected all the traditional dogma of Judeo-Christian thought.

But that didn’t mean he’d rejected everything entirely.

“I’ve gotta be honest with you,” Tim said, choosing his words carefully. “I’m finding this hard to believe, and even if I did see what you’re…alleging is true…I don’t know how I can help. I don’t know much about the occult and black magic, just what I’ve read in horror novels and a few non-fiction accounts. I’m no expert.”

Gordon acted as if he hadn’t heard Tim. “Let me spell it out for you. You have to help me out of this. If you do, I can help get the Dean of the school off your case and I can persuade the police to drop their investigation of you and your friends in that grave-robbing thing. I can also ensure that nothing like that happens to you guys again.”

Tim felt his face flush with anger. “I’ve listened to enough.” He rose to his feet. “You’re going to have to go now, Gordon.”

Gordon didn’t budge from his space on the sofa. “If you don’t help me I’ll make it worse for you.”

“How are you going to make it worse?”

“I kept some of the bones from that corpse I dug up. I planted some last night in your garden while you were asleep.”

“Bullshit!”

“Wanna try me? Say no to my offer now, the minute I leave I’m calling the police and leaving an anonymous call that the remainder of that corpse is buried in your garden. They’ll find it, too. They’ve got a hard-on for you, Tim. It won’t take much for me to get them out here.”

“You’re full of shit!” Tim got up and strode to the kitchen. He looked out the window that overlooked the garden his mom had tended ever since they’d moved in, the one where she planted tomatoes, beans, turnips, and red peppers every year.

There was a spot two feet from the wooden edge of the garden where the ground had recently been turned over and stomped down again. The earth was a darker shade than the rest, giving the appearance something had been planted there.

Mom doesn’t plant anything in that section, he thought. And I haven’t seen her back here recently…so why is it —

Gordon approached from behind, keeping his distance. “I really don’t want to blackmail you, Tim. Honest to God. I just want you to help me, and I swear when it’s all over you’ll never hear from me again.”

Tim whirled to face Gordon. He could barely contain his anger. “You fucking asshole.”

Gordon pulled out his cell phone from his pocket. He flipped it open, pressed a button, and started to walk away. “Fine, you don’t want to help me, I’ll leave. I’ll be placing that call though.” He stepped away and headed toward the front door.

“Wait!” The urge to placate Gordon temporarily and dash outside to see what was buried in his mother’s garden pulsed strongly through him. “Hold on, I’ll help you.”

Gordon paused at the front door. “You will?”

“Yes.”

Gordon put the phone back in his pocket. “Great!”

“But I need to see them first.”

Gordon nodded. “Of course. I’ll take you tonight.”

“Not tonight. Now.”

Gordon shook his head. “No can do, buddy. Scott’s home, and he’d freak if he saw you there. We’ve got to sneak over tonight.”

Tim sighed. His mind raced, trying to come up with an alternate plan. Something to dig himself out of this. He didn’t want to have anything to do with Gordon, wanted no part of this lunacy, but he also didn’t want to put his parents and George and Al and their families through any more trouble. It had to end, tonight if possible. “Fine,” he said. “Tonight then.”

Gordon nodded and opened the door to leave. “One final warning,” he said. His features were impassive as he faced Tim. “Don’t call the police. They’re not only not going to believe you, they’re going to believe everything I tell them.”

“And why would they believe you?”

Gordon rolled his eyes. “Do I have to spell it out for you? C’mon, Tim, you’re a smart guy.”

“Okay, I get it.” Tim said, the reality of what he was about to say stinging to his soul. “Nobody likes me in this town. It’s pretty much evident from what I’ve been through for the past five years. It’s also evident from the fact that nobody believed me when my copy of Back From the Dead was found at the cemetery and the police dismissed me when I told them I’d loaned it to you.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Gordon looked at Tim and for a moment that softness came back again. “I admit, I lied to the police about returning that book to you. Judging by what’s happened with you and your friends, they believed me.”

“No thanks to you,” Tim muttered.

“Just remember…they’re going to continue to believe me, and they’ll especially believe Scott, Steve, and Dave. They’ll believe me when I tell them more evidence is planted not only in the garden, but somewhere else on your property.”

Tim sputtered. “What?”

Gordon ignored the outburst and continued. “If the police come and say you’d told them I just tried to blackmail you, I’ll make sure they know about this other hidden spot where the bones are buried. There’s other incriminating evidence buried there, too. It might even point to you being involved in John’s murder.”

Tim was so stunned by this that he didn’t know what to say. It was like he’d temporarily lost the ability for speech. His heart pounded fiercely in his chest and he felt his body grow light. “You wouldn’t,” he managed to whisper.

“John picked on you too, right? And with all that horror and occult stuff the cops probably hauled away the other night…” Gordon shrugged and turned to exit the house. “I’ll pull up to your place at two A.M.,” he said as he left. “If you aren’t waiting for me at the curb, I’m placing that call to the police tomorrow morning. And remember.” He paused at the foot of the walk that led to their parking pad. “Not a word of this to anybody. Things will only get worse for you if you call the cops. Nobody’s gonna believe you.”

And with that final threat, Gordon Smith turned and walked down the driveway.

Tim closed the door and leaned against it. Despite the coolness of the living room brought on by the air conditioner, he was sweating.

This can’t be happening. There’s no way any reasonable adult in his or her right mind would look at everything that’s happened logically and determine that Gordon Smith and Scott Bradfield are telling the truth… especially if what Gordon is saying is even partially true…that they’ve kidnapped homeless people and murdered them on Scott’s own property…

…and John! My God, they killed John Elfman?

As much as Tim tried to rationalize it, he couldn’t see how the authorities would believe Gordon over him. He had alibis. He had a solid academic record. He had —

You have a police record, a school disciplinary record that includes allegations of Satanic ritual, witchcraft, vandalism, and all kinds of bogus, trumped-up shit. Gordon, Scott, Steve, and Dave, on the other hand, are good upstanding Christian citizens in the eyes of pretty much everybody in town and can do no wrong. Who do you think they’re going to believe?

And with that it was clear to Tim what must be done. What he had to do.

He had no other choice.

He had to go with Gordon tonight. He had to see for himself.

Chapter Seventeen