Truck Stop (9 page)

Roger knew he couldn’t say anything else. This was something he had to let go.

“Look, Russell’s not going anywhere,” Bart said. And he sure isn’t going to be talking to anyone soon even if he knows something about your little girl. What we need to do now is chill out until the police get here, and let them deal with this.”

Roger sighed, frustrated. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew it was the only logical thing they could do. It didn’t matter how much he wanted to beat answers out of Russell, it would have to wait.

Bart looked over at Kat. She could tell by his look that he needed help with Roger. She reached out and gently touched Roger’s arm. “Come on,” she said.

Roger nodded and turned away with Kat.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

It had been at least an hour since Roger had brought Russell back to the truck stop. The rain had let up again, and the temperature had dropped another five degrees. Bart had managed to slow Russell’s bleeding and had covered him with a blanket to keep him warm. He stayed by Russell’s side, keeping a close eye on the bandages so he could change them when they got too soaked with blood.

Across the diner from Bart and Russell, Roger and Kat sat together at the window booth. Kat had done her best to keep Roger’s mind off his daughter. At first, they talked about music. They both had a deep love of many similar bands. And there was definitely a connection between them. If only they had met at a different time and in a different way, Kat thought. Roger went along with Kat’s rather forced conversation for a while, but when he lapsed back into silence, Kat realized it was a futile effort. She asked Roger how he had found the burial pit in the junkyard.

“It was one of them, one of the victims,” he said. “She came to me. Led me back there.” He looked away, out the window.

“So when you see ghosts like that, they’re dying?”

“Dying, just about to die. Whatever the last memory they had here. That’s what I see.”

“And they can see you and talk to you?”

“And touch me, if I’m not careful.”

“But your daughter. You haven’t seen her? I mean, as a ghost.”

“Doesn’t mean anything. I can’t control who I see or when I see them.” Roger lapsed back into silence. He looked down at the muddy stuffed animal remains on the table next to him. He felt his throat tighten as his anger rose. “That motherfucker could have killed her, and I wouldn’t know it for sure.”

Kat studied the tortured man for a moment then asked quietly, “Have you ever tried to contact someone on the other side?”

Roger’s expression darkened. After a moment he answered, “Once.”

“What happened?”

Roger took a moment before answering. “I crossed over and I almost didn’t make it back. One of them tried to hold me there.”

“On the other side?” Kat asked.

Roger nodded.

Kat exhaled anxiously. “Jesus.”

Roger shifted in his seat. He looked at the clock that had stopped when the power went out. He was growing impatient. “Look, I can’t just sit here and do nothing anymore. The bottom line is that Lilly could be dead already, and I just haven’t encountered her spirit. As hard as it’s gonna be, I need to find out, and there’s only one way to do that from this side.”

Kat hesitated before asking the question she was afraid to hear the answer to. “How?”

Moments later, Kat had her answer. They gathered a snow shovel from the janitor’s closet and pushed out the back door of the complex. They were headed to the burial pit to search for any more traces of Roger’s daughter.

Roger panned his flashlight over to the break in the fence. “Come on.”

They crossed over to the break and ducked through. Roger led the way as they carefully picked their way to the stack of wet tin siding by the old shed.

“It’s just on the other side,” Roger said as he reached back to help Kat. “Careful. It’s slippery.”

Kat took his hand, and he helped her up onto the corrugated panels. Her feet slipped a little, but she caught herself and managed to get to the other side.

Roger tucked the flashlight in his front pocket and took a step up onto the siding. He used the shovel to steady himself. A faint, ragged breathing chilled the back of his neck.

“Please, please. No,” he heard from behind him.

Roger spun around, slipping off the siding. He looked behind him and saw the shadows of the old shed shift and move. A terrified woman peered out from hiding. She was covered in blood; her late ‘90s-style dress was ripped apart, and her left arm had been hacked off completely.

She locked eyes with Roger, pleading in a halting voice. “Don’t…let him get me…please…he’s right there….” She looked desperately behind her at an unseen assailant who was closing in on her.

“Roger?” Kat’s voice invaded the moment. Roger looked over at Kat. She aimed her flashlight down at him with a concerned look on her face. “What is it?”

Roger spun back to look at the shed. The mutilated woman was gone.

Roger took a deep breath, closed his eyes. “Shit.” He turned back, pushed himself up onto the stack of siding, and carefully crossed over to Kat.

“You going to be okay?” she asked, growing more worried.

“Yeah, I just saw one,” Roger answered unsteadily.

“A ghost?”

Roger nodded. “Yes.”

Kat looked back at the old shed, unnerved. “Where?”

“Back there.” Roger registered Kat’s unease. “It’s okay. They’re probably everywhere back here. You won’t see them. They can’t reach you.”

“What about you?”

“I’m used to it,” he answered, doing his best to convince himself. Then he reached out for her hand. “Come on.”

They continued deeper into the junkyard. Roger shone his flashlight through the maze of junk and stopped on the old, rusted-out truck cab. “It’s over here.”

They passed around the truck cab and reached the edge of the burial pit. Rivulets of water were still streaming down into the gaping hole. Roger passed his flashlight to Kat. “Don’t get too close to the edge,” he said. “But try to keep the light aimed down there so I can see.”

“You’re going down in there?” Kat asked, surprised. She didn’t remember this being part of the plan. “You said you found Lilly’s stuffed animal up here.”

“All the bodies are down there, and everything else nearby is washing down in there now anyway,” Roger said, as he paused on the muddy edge of the pit and looked down into the darkness.

Kat knew why they had come out here, but now, seeing Roger poised on the edge of the deep pit, it seemed like a terrible idea. “Roger, are you sure you want to do this?”

Roger took a shaky breath. It was the same question he was asking himself. There was every rational reason not to do this, but this wasn’t about anything rational. This was about his daughter and about learning if she was dead or alive. He answered the only way he could. “I’ve got to know,” he said.

He grabbed the edge of the rusted truck cab with one hand and started lowering himself, feet first. “I need more light,” he called up to Kat. “Give me more light.”

Kat leaned closer to the edge and adjusted the angle of the flashlight beam. The pale light illuminated the bottom. It was filled with murky water now.

Roger let go of the truck cab and held onto the muddy edge with both hands. He let himself slide down slowly, controlling his speed with his tenuous grip in the muddy walls.

He looked over his shoulder beneath him. His feet were just above the water when there was a loud whoosh!

A hand burst out of the murky liquid and grabbed his ankle. Roger recoiled, horrified, as a young woman, covered with blood, pulled herself out of the black water. Her eye sockets were empty holes of bloody flesh, and her jaw had been hacked off on one side so that it drooped open at a hideous angle.

Kat saw Roger frozen above the water. “Are you all right?” she asked.

Roger took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and opened them again. The woman was gone. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

He lowered himself the rest of the way. The water reached his waist by the time his feet sank into the muddy bottom. He looked back up at Kat. “Give me the shovel.”

Kat held the shovel out to him.

“Don’t get too close to the edge,” Roger reminded her.

She stretched her arm as far as she could, and Roger grabbed the handle at the bottom. “Got it!”

Kat let go of the other end and took an unsteady step back from the muddy ledge.

In the pit, Roger dipped the shovel into the murky depths and started dredging the bottom. He could feel the scoop catch on several solid masses; some were hard, like stone, and the wood handle of the shovel vibrated.

He pulled it upward; the items were heavier than he expected, and he strained in his effort. The dingy water washed away as the scoop broke the surface, revealing a rotted skull and several fingers.

Kat choked back a sickened reaction and looked away.

“The light! Don’t move the light!” Roger yelled up at her.

Kat was forced to re-aim the flashlight at the bottom.

Roger carefully examined the old remains in the pale light. The teeth had been pulled from the skull; the tips of the fingers were missing. Roger dumped the remains onto a muddy ledge and went in for another pass with the shovel. This time it hit something even heavier. Roger grimaced, pushed against it; his mind raced at the possibilities of what it might be. A torso? A leg?

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Kat called from above.

“Nothing. It’s something heavy.” Roger bore down with all his might, working the shovel back and forth. Then the shovel slipped off whatever it was under.

Roger crashed back into the muddy wall. The wet, heavy earth gave way.

Kat leaped back as the edge of the pit slid downward. “Roger!” she screamed.

The mudslide oozed into the bottom of the pit, exposing several more dismembered corpses. Roger struggled to avoid the onslaught, but it was no use. It pinned him against the opposite side.

Kat dropped to her knees and reached down. “Take my hand!” she shouted.

Roger shoved the newly exposed rotting body parts out of his way and groped for her hand.

She strained and leaned out as far as she could; they reached each other. Kat leaned back and pulled with all her might.

Roger kicked and struggled to free himself from under the muck. He crawled up the sloped side of the pit on his knees and made it to safety on the edge.

Kat let go, out of breath. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Roger coughed as he squinted and wiped the mud off his face.

Kat reached down to pick up her flashlight and stopped cold. A horrified look crossed her face, and she emitted a hoarse whisper. “No….”

Roger looked over at her, puzzled “What’s wrong?”

She was staring into the pit; the shocked look frozen on her face.

Roger turned and looked where she was aiming her flashlight. There was a woman’s dismembered arm among the newly exposed remains, with a bracelet on its wrist. It was woven strands of silver with delicate jade inlays.

Kat started trembling uncontrollably, and she dropped the flashlight.

“Kat? What is it?”

Kat reached down and touched the identical silver bracelet on her own arm—the twin to the one her mother owned. “It…it’s…” she stammered. Tears spilled down her face, her kneels buckled, and she reeled.

Roger caught her before she collapsed. He looked from the bracelet to the one on the dismembered arm, and it all became clear. “Your mother,” he whispered.