J. Gonzalez - Back From The Dead

“I just hope we can fight this and win it,” Mom said. For the first time that night, Tim detected the weariness in her tone of voice. “I’m just getting so tired of it!”

“I know, honey,” Dad said. “I am too.”

“They never did search Gordon Smith’s house or the homes of those other boys.”

“No, they didn’t.”

“And they won’t even question them further! That’s what’s got me so goddamn mad about this whole thing! Something tells me the kid that started this whole mess back when Tim was in sixth grade, Scott Bradfield, is behind it all.”

Tim thought about Scott and how he, Steve, and David had done such a good job in not only avoiding him for the past five years or so, but insidiously pulled the strings of his continued harassment. It was very possible Scott was involved, but how to prove it? And really, how could it be proven that Gordon robbed that grave?

Furthermore, why would Gordon desecrate a grave and steal human remains? Tim found it hard to believe it was done for the sole purpose of smearing Tim’s name even further.

But then, he wouldn’t put it past that crew. They could have seen his happiness the past few months. Could have noticed that he now had new company in the form of Al and George, as well as Matt and Chelsea, and decided to take him down a few notches. And in doing so they’d sent a message to George and Al as well. And that message was simple: we control this school. So don’t mess with us.

“I’m guessing if there was no evidence to tie Gordon to what happened it will be even tougher to tie Scott to it as well,” Dad said. There was an audible sound of the chair cushions squeaking as Dad sat down. “You know those three have been as slick as snot on a glass door handle since they first got in trouble for assaulting Tim.”

Mom sighed. There was a creak of leather as Mom sat on the sofa, followed by the click of the television turning on. “And there’s no evidence tying Tim and his friends to this as well. It’s their word against ours and no physical evidence. I think you’re right, honey. A good DA is going to take one look at this and throw it out.”

“Hopefully we can still sue them,” Dad said. “The fact that we’re now forced to place Tim in private school due to what’s happened will be the main thing. When they throw this thing out, we’ve got ourselves a good case for a harassment lawsuit.”

“Okay. So we keep Tim out of school the rest of the year and make sure he takes his finals, does the remainder of his schoolwork and turns it in, and we follow up with his instructors to make sure they’ve received it. The last thing I want is for Tim to fail a class because one of his teachers won’t accept his work due to him being suspended.”

“I agree. We’ll talk to Dr. Stokely about it tomorrow. I’m sure he’ll be agreeable since Tim’s maintained excellent grades, and he’s suspended for the rest of the year.”

The cooking channel was on and Tim finally got up and headed back to his room. He closed the door softly behind him and sat on the bed.

He’d done his best to put things back in order after the police left, but there were still piles of books on the floor. The police had taken everything horror-related but they’d left behind all his fantasy and SF. To further demonstrate their illiteracy, they’d left behind a really cool novel called Harvest Home by Thomas Tryon, which wove themes of neo-paganism flourishing unseen in modern day villages.

And true enough, they’d left behind the two Bibles Tim owned. That and numerous other books, including a true crime encyclopedia that contained cult-related crime entries.

Idiots , Tim thought as he lay down on the bed.

He turned off the lights and wondered how Al and George were doing tonight. He was sorry they’d gotten dragged into this sad, sorry mess, but was happy and pleased that they and their families were standing with him to fight it.

And because he couldn’t help it, he found himself wondering what Gordon Smith and his friends were up to tonight.

Gordon was with Scott, Steve, and David when they went into Harrisburg that night and got themselves another homeless man.

Scott’s parents were out of town this week — both of them were attending business conferences for their jobs — and the house was theirs. Nonetheless, when they brought the unconscious homeless man back, they took him directly to the guest house.

Scott had the SUV pulled back into the rear of the driveway and was talking to Gordon about Count Gaines’s recent trouble with the law as Steve and David carried the homeless man out of the SUV. Gordon had filled the guys in on what happened over the course of the evening during their run into Harrisburg. It had taken that long to relate everything in between the drive, scouring for the right homeless guy, subduing him quickly, and getting him into the SUV. David had knocked the dirty fuck out with one punch to the side of his head and the guy — who actually didn’t appear that much older than them — fell to the ground. Once again, there were no witnesses.

Gordon was bringing Scott up on where things stood now with Count Gaines. “The cops questioned me and my parents, but they hauled Gaines out of class and suspended him, George, and Al. They’re totally focusing on those three for what Dave and I did.”

“That was still a stupid thing you guys did,” Scott said. “Letting that book fall out of your car.”

“Yeah, but that’s how they tied the grave robbing to Gaines!”

Scott shook his head. “It’s a trip to think they’re harassing the shit out of him just because of that. I mean…Gaines told them he loaned the book to you and you told them you returned it and they swallowed your story? That’s the funniest shit I’ve heard all year.”

“Yeah, and now Simmons has a hard on for all three of them,” Gordon said. He grinned. “George Ulrich and Al Romero have been cozying up to Tim for the past few months and he’s noticed. It’s only a matter of time before he sets his sights on Matt and that crazy chick they hang out with. You know…Chelsea?”

“Those freaks should be thrown out of school,” Scott said. “Especially Chelsea. Know what Heather Watkins told me?”

“What?”

“She said Chelsea is one of those weirdos that cuts themselves.”

“Huh?”

“They cut themselves with knives.” Scott made a sawing motion with his fingers on the underside of his left arm. “They cut themselves for attention or some shit.”

“That’s fucked up, man.”

“No shit. And she’s just as deranged as Tim Gaines, if you ask me. Heather told me she’s bad news. She not only cuts herself, she listens to that goth shit. She also listens to those weird metal bands, the ones with names you can’t pronounce. She’s probably into the same kind of demonic shit as Tim.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

Scott got out of the driver’s seat and he and Gordon began making their way to the guest house. Steve and David had already gotten the unconscious bum inside.

“Well, if we succeed in getting Tim, George, and Al kicked out of school, Matt and Chelsea will be next,” Gordon grinned. “By the time first semester is over next year, they’ll be out on their asses.”

Scott laughed as he and Gordon entered the guest house.

David and Steve had deposited the unconscious man on the floor in front of the zombie, who was chained up against the pipes that would have fed into the sink had they finished the guesthouse interior and actually installed a kitchen. The zombie looked at the homeless man curiously, as if he’d never seen a man knocked out cold before. David laughed. “Hey man! Check this out! Maybe our zombie will try to eat this guy!”