J. Gonzalez - Back From The Dead

Tim’s throat was dry. “Is he dead?”

“He is now,” Clapton said.

Tim didn’t know how to respond to that. “What do you mean?”

Detective Andrew spoke to Clapton. “What exactly has this kid been accused of?”

Officer Clapton held up a hand to Andrew. He was looking directly at Tim.

From outside the cell, Tim could make out the faint sound of somebody crying.

Tim was worried. He couldn’t say anything without knowing the full extent of the events that had transpired. Had Gordon said anything? Were Gordon and his friends now accusing Tim of murdering John?

“I’m waiting, Tim,” Officer Clapton said. “I’ve got a dozen people missing and it looks like somebody is either on a killing spree or — ”

“What are you talking about?” Tim felt the fear spike through his system, overwhelming him now.

“We’re not going to get shit out of this kid,” Detective Andrews said.

“You said John was dead,” Tim said, ignoring Andrews’ outburst. “What’s going on?”

“You tell us!” Officer Clapton said. Tim could tell the officer was struggling to contain his emotions, that he was trying to retain a professional edge in the face of chaos. “I’ve got a dozen people missing from their homes in a neighborhood near Zuck’s woods, and I’ve got the remains of John Elfman lying dead in the city morgue, cut up into little pieces. Looks like he was chewed up by some kind of animal or something.”

“But that’s not the best part,” Detective Andrews said. He had his hands on his hips. He regarded Tim with a menacing glare. “The best part has to do with what Officer Clapton told me about the trouble you’ve faced the last few years. The allegations of devil-worship and the like. Especially the latest allegations of grave-robbing. Want to know why?”

Tim could only shake his head slowly.

“Because what we’ve been witnessing defies all logic and flies in the face of rationality,” Detective Andrews continued. “Now you either tell us what you know or so help me, I’ll do all within my power to make sure you’re fingered for much of the chaos that’s been exploding in Spring Valley since — ”

“Enough!” Officer Clapton held up a hand to silence the detective. Looking directly at Tim, he said, “John wasn’t entirely dead when Officer Walsh and I found him. Pieces of him were strewn over a one block area. The parts I saw were crawling toward a house on Oak Street near Zuck’s Woods.”

“Wh-what?” Did Officer Clapton say parts of John were crawling ?

“I didn’t stutter,” Officer Clapton said. “They were crawling. Like they were still alive.”

“And on top of that, we have a dozen people missing in that neighborhood, and whoever took them wasn’t very nice about it,” Detective Andrews said. “There was blood in all the houses we entered. These people didn’t go quietly.”

Officer Clapton’s gaze was imploring him. Please tell me everything you know .

And as much as Tim wanted to, as much as he wanted to tell them everything, something made him hold back. The fear of being blamed for everything that was going on.

Tim took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you what I know, but first I need to talk to my lawyer.”

“Goddammit, we don’t have time for this!” Detective Andrews sputtered.

“My lawyer,” Tim said, looking at the detective with a steely gaze. A sudden burst of confidence thrummed through him, the knowledge that whatever was happening wasn’t his fault the overriding influence behind it. “ Now !”

And with that, Officer Clapton and Detective Andrews left Tim’s cell to summon Doug Fenner, the lawyer George Ulrich’s dad hired for them.

Billy Thompson and Candace Drombowsky’s bodies had lain undiscovered in the thick forest of Zuck’s Woods for almost forty years.

Yet their spirits had always remained.

Trapped by something that held them to the spot, they’d waited for the right moment to break free when they could venture forth and seek vengeance on the people that murdered them.

Thanks to the malevolent force Gordon Smith unwittingly conjured, they now had their chance.

Billy and Candace’s essence directed the force into the ground where their bodies lay, and that was all that was required to ignite the spark they’d been waiting for in order to depart this place.

The force could have done that itself, but only to a limited degree. It really had no overwhelming power over remains that had been reduced to bones, but because of the ethereal spirits of Billy and Candace had remained in the area, it had sufficient power to fuel them, to give them enough strength to take control and use their brittle remains to dig their way out of their grave.

It took most of the night. By the time they reached topsoil the sun was up, the birds were chirping and darting among the tall grass, snatching insects. From two miles away at a distant farm, a cock crowed. Five hundred yards down, water burbled in a stream. Candace and Billy did not hear any of this, nor did they need to as they dragged their dessicated bones out of the soil. The earth had preserved some of the tendons that glued their limbs together, as well as their surface skin, giving their corpses a dried, mummified appearance. The tattered remnants of the clothing they’d been buried in crumbled into dust around their feet as they turned their attention to the north.

The presence that directed their movements was the main force that drove them forward, picking their way through the forest. But within the memory of their essence were those that had done them harm. It burned deep in their memories, giving the dark spirit a focus. A sense of direction on where to spread itself. It pushed its two new vessels forward, working at what it was called forth to do.

The spirits of Billy and Candace cared not one whit about what the dark force wanted. They had their own agendas.

Revenge.

And like a beacon in the night, Billy Thompson and Candace Drombowsky shambled their way through the woods, heading toward the Bradfield estate as if they’d known it was there all along.

Tim didn’t know what was going on beyond the confines of Brendan Hall, but when his parents arrived a little after seven-thirty with Doug Fenner, his mother shot him a worried glance.

As they filed into the interrogation room, Tim noticed his parents looked worried. Officer Clapton still had that look of fear on his face. Detective Andrews didn’t even look at him. Two other people joined them, a man and a woman dressed in business attire. They took seats across from Tim as Officer Clapton closed the door.

His parents sat on either side of him with Doug on Dad’s right. Mom squeezed his hand. “Are you okay?”

Tim managed a smile for her. “I’m okay.”

Dad gave Tim a nod, then conferred with Doug in quiet tones for a moment as everybody settled in. Mom leaned close to Tim. “I know you’re scared honey, but Clapton is on our side. We had a talk with him in the hallway.”

“You did?”

Mom nodded. “We talked to him and Detective Andrews. They’re going to work on getting the warrant for your arrest revoked so we can get you out of here.”

Tim was watching his dad and Doug Fenner talk among themselves in low tones. Dad nodded at something Doug said and caught Tim’s gaze. He smiled, gave him a thumbs up sign. Tim relaxed. The tension in the room, which had been unbearable a moment ago, suddenly eased.

“Somebody needs to get out to Chelsea’s place,” Tim told his mother. “Gordon Smith threatened her.”

Officer Clapton heard him. “When did Gordon threaten Chelsea?”

“Last night. When you pulled us over he told me that if I told you anything about what was really happening, he would hurt her.”