Ann Aguirre - Hell Fire

The girl jerked as if she’d been struck. Hearing her name come through like that had to be unnerving. “He’s here with us,” she whispered. “Should I ask him?”

Christ, how was I supposed to mentor this girl? The dead were not my forte. I had to put her in touch with someone via the Area 51 message board as soon as I could. She needed help and training I simply couldn’t provide.

“Ask him where he is,” Chance said quietly.

There was no response, so I guessed the rest of us didn’t exist for him. One answer about how her ability worked, at least. I’d never met anyone who did what she did in exactly this way.

“Are you okay?” I asked, anxious. “No drain like when you called Mr. McGee?”

She shook her head. “It’s normal this time. Just weird because”—she shrugged—“I knew him. It’s . . . different.” But she braced herself for the next bit, likely knowing it would be difficult, and asked, “Do you know where you are, Rob?”

“I’m in the woods,” he answered at once.

Jesse whispered to me, “She’s a lodestone for them. It’s uncanny, isn’t it? I think they tune in to her just as she uses the radio to tune in to them.”

I agreed with a silent nod, letting Shannon work.

“You’ve been out here a long time,” she told him gently. “Can you show me exactly where? I’d like to bring you home. Your mom is worried.”

There was a long silence, and then: “I’m dead, aren’t I?”

How could he not know? I flinched, thinking he might freak out. But the girl merely replied, “Yeah. Sorry.”

Even through the old, tinny speakers, his answer sounded wistful. “I’m glad you made it out. I always liked you, Shannon.”

Her eyes looked so old in her small face. “I liked you too, Rob. I need you to lead me to where you died. Can you do that?”

“I—yeah. It’s a ways from here,” he told her.

“Just give me the directions,” she assured him. “We’ll get you out, I promise.”

Thus followed one of the most chilling hours I’ve ever experienced; two kids, one of them dead, communicating via a decrepit transistor radio, as we trekked through the tangle of trees. Sometimes we hacked away at the undergrowth in order to pass where Rob’s spirit said we must. I think Chance shared my latent fear we might be walking into a trap, but we kept pushing forward because I couldn’t think what else to do.

I had to trust in Shannon and her gift. It was damn hard, even for a believer like me. Now I knew how other people must feel when I presented them with some inexplicable truth from touching their father’s pocket watch.

The unnatural cold sank into my very bones, making my joints ache. Only the fingers of my right hand contained any heat, still burning from their immersion in the soil. Pain accompanied that warmth, of course, but everything had its price.

Gradually, the ground sloped downward, leading toward a deep gully. I knew what we’d find at the bottom, but we climbed down nonetheless. The radio popped and hissed, revealing Rob’s agitation as we grew closer.

Overhead, the trees grew tight overhead, giving the gorge a bizarre greenish hue reminiscent of corpse flesh. My companions looked sick and strange in the primeval half-light. I braced myself for the smell I associated with dead bodies, but I detected only the dank vegetation surrounding us.

“Here.” The distant voice crackled from the radio, telling us we’d reached our destination.

The rest would be up to us.

At first I didn’t find what we were looking for, as dead leaves littered the forest floor. Shannon knelt, then brushed away some of the desiccated kudzu shroud, and I saw the pallid glimmer of bone. The rest of us joined her in uncovering his final resting place.

A hush fell as we worked, different than the eerie stillness signifying the absence of all life. This silence felt reverent. I’d been wrong, though. We couldn’t tell how this kid died. Thanks to scavengers and insects, there was nothing left but his skeleton.

We backed off so Jesse could take a look. Among all of us, he had the most expertise. He spent a few moments studying the remains, and then glanced up with a regretful shake of his head.

“Based on his posture, I’d say the kid died from a fall,” he said, pointing to damage on the skull. “To me it looks like he dashed his head on the way down, but I’m just guessing. It would take someone more skilled than me to be sure.”

I exchanged a wry look with Jesse. The chances of Kilmer possessing a bona fide forensics expert were less than the possibility of my morphing into a six-foot supermodel. I hadn’t expected this, but I guess I should have. A year was a long time for a body to lie exposed.

“We could try asking him,” Chance offered.

Shannon didn’t look eager, but she said, “Rob, do you remember what happened? How you—”

“Died?” the spirit filled in. “I was running. Scared. That’s all I know.” The radio popped with his frustration.

“What now?” Shannon sounded anxious. “I promised we’d get him out.”

Would a blessing and a proper burial be enough to usher his spirit where it needed to go? I wished Chuch were here; he might know. I made a mental note to call him when we got back to the house.

“We will,” Chance said, reassuring her. “We just have to decide the best way to go about it.”

Saldana rummaged through his backpack, cursing beneath his breath. “I wish I had flags,” he muttered. “We need to mark the site somehow.”

“Was anyone paying attention to the route we took?” I asked.

“I was,” Jesse answered. “I can get us back here again. But maybe . . .” He pulled out his cell phone and tried about six different angles before pocketing it with a huff of disgust. “Nothing,” he growled. “What the hell is wrong with this place?”

I really wished I knew. Or rather, I knew what was wrong, but I wished I knew why .

It went without saying that Shannon couldn’t use her radio trick once we’d notified the authorities. The girl didn’t want to leave, but we had to get Sheriff Robinson out here somehow. We couldn’t scoop up the bones and deliver them to Rob’s family. With our reputation, that would be the last straw.

Shadows curled around my peripheral vision. My skin prickled with awareness of the otherness that chased Jesse and me all the way to the forest edge. It was here now.

Eager as I was to get out of these woods, I suspected that if we walked away now, Rob’s remains would disappear in a malicious game of hide-and-seek. There’d be nothing to show for the sheriff’s trouble, making him unlikely to believe us ever again. We might need his goodwill down the line. Of course, I could only gauge our moves by Jesse’s impression that Sheriff Robinson was scared, not a conspirator.

“I’ll stay,” I said quietly. “It seems quiet enough right here. It won’t take you more than three or four hours to get back.”

I expected an argument, but instead, Chance said, “Not by yourself. We can break into teams. Jesse knows the way back, and Shannon knows the town, so they should go. I’ll stay with you.”

He clearly intended to fight whatever might be coming for us, even if he didn’t have his luck. I wasn’t sure what lived in the woods could be combated with fists or feet. No point in saying so, however; Chance hadn’t been here with Jesse and me, so he didn’t know how it felt.

Jesse hesitated, obviously remembering our previous ordeal. “I don’t like it,” he finally said. “But it makes sense. We need a cover story.”

“We were hiking,” I suggested, kicking my backpack. “And we came across the body.”

Coincidental, sure, but as concerned citizens, we just wanted to make sure the poor kid got a proper burial. We might even get some good press out of this.