Follow the music.
The music would save him.
His legs shook. He felt dizzy and sick. Even though he was free of the grave, an overwhelming sensation of impending doom washed over him.
He was going to die. He was dying. Right now. His body was shutting down, giving up.
Follow the music.
Hurry. Follow the music.
He stumbled into a cleared area. He stood there swaying, trying to see where the sound was coming from, but everything was out of focus.
The music stopped.
Not much time left. You 'd better haul ass.
He ran.
Or at least he thought he was running. Prancing along, stumbling, trying to hurry before he fell again. Because if that happened, he wouldn't be able to get back up. That would be it. Last call for alcohol. Checkout time.
Straight. Go straight.
He zeroed in on the vehicle and flew toward it, the dark wool blanket fluttering like wings.
With one quick, forward motion he slammed into the van, smacking his forehead, his palms spread flat against the window.
A girl screamed.
He tried to cling to the glass. His legs buckled and he hugged the van as he melted to the ground.
Help me, he said, but no words came out. Help me!
He was pretty sure he'd died and come back to life. And now he was dying again.
How many times could a person die? he wondered. Were people like cats? Confused, he began to crawl, to drag himself back into the woods until he blacked out.
The death he'd been expecting was very near.
Chapter 8
Officer Eve Salazar was thinking that the night had been fairly quiet when the police scanner flashed and the dispatcher spit out a suspicious-person code. The location, an abandoned cemetery where kids liked to hang out, was close. Her partner, Officer Reilley, flipped on the siren and swung the car around in the middle of the deserted street, tires squealing.
Kids thought cops liked busting parties, but Eve hated it. It made her feel like such a hypocrite.
Two miles later, Reilley executed a sharp right turn, leaving the blacktop behind. He barely slowed as the car bounced roughly over a narrow, rutted lane, the road eventually opening to a clearing.
Directly in front of them was a blue van.
Reilley jerked the patrol car to a stop while Eve scanned the area with the searchlight.
Silence, fog, and broken gravestones.
'This place is creepy,' she said.
'Didn't you ever come to a cemetery to make out?' Reilley asked, stepping from the squad car. Eve ignored his question, called in their position, then followed, panning the clearing with her flashlight, the fog creating a glare.
'What's that?' she asked, freezing the light.
She shifted the beam up and down; the movement made the shadows jump.
'Let's check the van.'
Eve shone her light through the passenger window into the front seat. Empty. She knocked on the glass. 'Police. Anybody in there?'
She heard scrambling; then the door burst open and a girl of about seventeen tumbled out.
'Oh, my God! Am I glad to see you. I always hated cops, but I love you.' She threw herself at Eve, hugging her tightly. 'I love you!'
A blond-haired boy fell out behind her.
Both kids began babbling at once, trying to tell them what had happened.
'Somebody grabbed me,' the boy said, his chest rising and falling, his words rapid-fire. 'We ran back to the van and called the cops.'
As the story progressed, it became more ridiculous. Eve began to think the kids were victims of a practical joke. She looked up to see Reilley standing with a hand pressed to his mouth, trying not to laugh.
So much better than finding somebody dead, Eve thought. Give her a practical joke any day.
'Then this guy in a black cape-' the boy said, gesturing wildly. 'He comes swooping out of the woods and slams into the van. Just throws himself at the van. Attacks it. Isn't that right, Amy? He attacked it, didn't he?'
'Yeah. He came outta nowhere. He was flying.'
'And I couldn't find the van keys.' The boy reached in his pocket, pulled out a set of keys, and stared at them. 'They weren't there before.'
Reilley turned his back to them.
Don't laugh, Eve prayed. If she as much as heard a smirk coming from him, she'd lose it. The kids were scared to death. They didn't need adults laughing in their faces.
'Where did he hit?' Eve asked, moving toward the van.
'On the passenger side. Near the door.'
Eve ran the flashlight beam over the indicated area. 'It's dented,' she said with surprise.
Reilley turned back around to join them. 'Is that blood?' He pointed to a dark smear.
Eve leaned close. 'Maybe. Or makeup.'
'Makeup?' the girl asked. 'What do you mean, makeup?'
Reilley let out an exasperated sigh. 'Somebody's playing a trick on you.' He was growing tired of the situation.
'This was no joke,' the boy insisted. 'If you think it's a joke, why don't you find the guy? He ran off that way. Into those trees.'
The kid was cocky. Reilley wasn't used to being challenged like that. Before he had a chance to jump all over him, Eve nodded. 'Good idea.' She began moving in the direction he'd pointed, her flashlight trained on the path before her. She heard Reilley following behind.
Poor kids.
She stopped abruptly, panning her light across the ground. Reilley ran into her, grabbing her by the waist. 'You never answered me about making out in a place like this,' he said, his breath against her neck. His hand moved up to her breast.
They'd been dating for two months, but she disapproved of sexual contact on the job. She knocked his hand away. 'Look, Romeo.'
'Reilley. Name's Reilley.'
Directly in front of her, in the glow cast by her flashlight, was a dark heap.
Something left by the merry pranksters? Eve wondered. A blanket arranged to suggest the shape of a person? Or was there actually someone under it?
The air was wet. She could feel the dampness on her face.
Without hesitation, Reilley stepped around her and approached the heap. Eve remained where she was and reached for her gun, releasing the snap on the leather case. 'Careful,' she warned.
One of these days he was going to jump into a situation too quickly and wouldn't live to tell about it.
Reilley touched the shape with one booted foot. He gave it a nudge. Eve could see it was heavy and solid. 'A body?' she asked.
In all of her years as a cop, she'd never gotten sick, but now a surge of nausea swept through her.
To her shame, she believed in ghosts. She'd seen ghosts, and she didn't like them. Not a damn bit.
This is a spooky place.
