“Let go!” Buck yelled. “I don’t like this! I don’t like this at all—I’ve never liked being held down, or even touched too much.” He groaned and tried to pry her fingers loose.

  Prudence was still, but her eyes scanned the room. Sassy had lifted her skirt and retrieved both her guns.

  “Shoot her!” Buck said.

  “She’s already been shot, dummy, that’s why she’s a zombie,” Alex said.

  “Hold on a minute, Sassy,” I said. “She’s looking for something.”

  Sassy used her chair to get up on the table, walk to Prudence, and look her in the eyes… eyes which weren’t even registering her presence.

  “She’s looking for the statue,” Sassy said. “But why does she look confused? Look at her eyes, they’re not focused on any one area.”

  I stood and made my way to where the Samurai swords were and took them both down from their hanging stand, then went back to the table.

  “Outta my way, Sassy,” I said before bringing both swords down on Prudence’s wrists. This freed both Alex and Buck from her grasp. Buck jumped up, shoved Prudence’s severed hand away and started wiping his hands on his shirt and pants. Alex had merely tossed the hand holding him captive off to one side.

  “At least, she made us cookies before she died,” Buck said.

  “That’s the way to look at the bright side of things,” Sassy said.

  Zombie Prudence stood and began walking toward the door, but without hands was unable to open it. I rushed ahead, got between her and the door, and opened it. Sassy and I quickly followed behind her as she walked to the entryway and started banging her head against the newel posts of the stairs.

  “The statue might be hidden in the posts,” Alex said.

  “Sorry, Pru,” I said, before giving her a hard swift kick in the rear, which sent her body flying toward the side.

  I started working on the newel post, but in less than a second, Prudence had returned, and was head butting me in the back. Alex grabbed one of her arms and Sassy the other while Buck ran back to the seance room, hopefully to get the swords I’d left there. I needn’t have worried, because Buck ran back into the entry hall and took a whack at Prudence’s legs.

  I kicked at the newel post, but my choice in footwear hampered my progress.

  “We need tools… a hammer or—” I said.

  “I’ve got it!” Sassy said as she ran out of the room.

  Prudence was rolling around on the floor, and Buck pushed her away with his foot.

  “That woman was once alive and sweet, show some respect,” Alex said.

  “I don’t want that zombie thing bleeding on me… that kind woman you’re talking about is dead, somebody put a bullet in her head,” Buck said. “And it was lucky it wasn’t one of us that got it.”

  “Luck didn’t come into play tonight,” I said. “Somebody knew exactly when we’d be seated at the table and where Prudence would be.”

  “And my guess would be that Andrew is also an expert shooter,” Sassy said entering with an ax. “I saw this in the pantry earlier when I was helping Prudence fix the desserts.

  She handed me the ax, and I started hacking away at the newel post of the staircase. It was hollow as I thought it might be.

  Reaching inside I pulled out… a handful of emeralds, which I let fall to the floor. I reached back inside and felt… nothing.

  “Damn it!” I said.

  “What now?” Alex said. “Do we go after Andrew… are we even sure it was him? Others must’ve known about the seances and been invited to attend.”

  “But he knew about tonight, and he owns the store,” I said.

  “Then isn’t that enough to go after him,” Alex said.

  “That’s not the point… he’s not the point,” I said, getting angrier by the minute.

  “The point is our mission is to retrieve the statues; and we’ve probably been wasting our time here,” Sassy said. “Prudence may have hidden one of the statues here while she was doing her show—but there’s not one here anymore.”

  “You three stay here and go through every inch of this place,” I said. “I’m going to get cleaned up—it’s time to end this. Sassy, call Miss Lucy and inform her we’ve got another zombie for her people to examine. Nothing else is gonna happen here tonight.”

  “You’re not going after Andrew on your own, are you?” Buck said. “He’s probably got others helping him.”

  “It should only be that easy,” I said. “We’ll deal with Andrew tomorrow. Tonight, I’m going after the second green-eyed lady—and I’m not coming home empty handed.”

  -27-

  Delivering the News

  I quickly showered, changed into some denim shorts, a black T-shirt, and deck shoes; then looked around the house until I found the keys to Prudence’s car hanging from a hook on one of the walls in the kitchen. Alex was waiting for me by the back door. He kissed me on the lips and wished me luck. I looked him in the eyes, held him close, and kissed him back passionately.

  “Please be careful, I want you back alive and in one piece, Layton.”

  “I’ll be careful… as long as you’re always waiting for me, I’ll be sure to come back. I could never stay away from you for too long.” I kissed him again and whispered in his ear. “I love you more than anything in this world… stay safe.”

  Thankfully, Prudence’s minivan had a full tank, since I had a bit of a drive. Knowing that Sandoval’s people were following me, I didn’t want to take my truck, since they’d recognize it by now. While I drove, I looked behind me and made sure I wasn’t being tailed. My foot was getting too heavy on the gas pedal—it was my anger boiling over. But why was I so mad… was it because I felt played? No, it’s time to be honest with yourself, Layton Shayne. You’ve fucked up so far. Chasing leads without doing your research thoroughly, and acting like a damn amateur was dangerous. It can get people hurt—it can get Alex hurt.

  * * * *

  When I pulled into the driveway of the small and inviting home, I noticed what looked like candlelight on the porch.

  “Hello, again,” Charity said, as I walked onto her porch.

  She was sitting in the swing with a light blanket on her lap, wearing a cropped pink tank top, and long, baggy pink pajama bottoms. Her hair was loose and her makeup free face looked young and innocent by the candlelight. I stood silently for a moment leaning against a post.

  “Who are you?” I said.

  “Who does your instinct say I am?”

  “As a soldier, I was always able to trust my instincts; but lately, I think they’re becoming cloudy. If they were clear, I would’ve been here before now.” I looked her directly in the eyes before saying the next thing. “By the way, your fiance’s mother is dead. She was shot in the head, turned into a zombie, had her hands hacked off by me, and her legs hacked off by my partner Buck.”

  Charity didn’t break eye contact, but tears filled her big blue eyes.

  Suddenly, I felt like an absolute dog—no, dogs are better than what I was. There was a sharp pain in my head, then my chest, as I slid down the post and sat on the floor. I groaned out loud trying to fight this… this force that was searing through my mind. I yelled out loud, closed my eyes tightly, and balled up my hands into fists. It hurt like nothing I’d ever felt before, then I felt her cool hand on my cheek and heard her low calm voice speaking to me, as if it could get inside me.

  “It’s this place, Layton, you can’t fight it.”

  I yelled loudly and slammed a fist on the floor.

  “Hush, hush,” she said, with a voice that was steady and calm. “Your fighting it only makes it stronger… stop resisting and let it flood over you.”

  I wanted to fight and I tried, but she was right—the more I struggled, the harder the pain in my head got. This wasn’t normal… it felt like something supernatural, which I didn’t know how to fight. And then it happened—I couldn’t fight it anymore, so I let go… and the flood came. The flood of memories that went back as far as I could remember. My tears as a small boy at the funeral of my mother, who’d been run down by a drunk driver; the painful news of my father’s death: the ex and my nephew. In between it all, I heard myself yelling why over and over again… or was I just yelling it in my head… demanding answers from a cruel, silent world. There was more going through my mind; and it felt as if I was telling my entire life story out loud, even the parts involving Shelby, and my case here. When it was over, I felt utterly exhausted and drained. I wept into my hands with an intensity I’d never felt. All the while, soft hands combed through my hair, and slender, but strong arms held me. She wept with me, and I was so glad not to be alone. We comforted each other for a few minutes before moving to the porch swing. She got up and went into the house; and I stretched out my legs and bare feet.

  When Charity came back out to the porch, she had a wet washcloth in one hand and a cookie in the other. As I ate the cookie, she wiped my sweaty forehead and neck. The warm cloth revitalized me.

  “I’m a registered nurse, and still I say there are times when nothing beats a warm washcloth to the forehead.”

  I nodded my head while trying to find my voice. A few more tears came out before I could speak.

  “What happened to me?”

  “It’s sort of hard to explain,” Charity said. “Should I start at the beginning—things will make more sense that way… if you have the time?”

  I nodded, not wanting to admit that it had taken all my energy just to get from the floor to the swing. There was no way I’d even make it to the car right now. I looked back at the spot on the floor where I’d been sitting, and couldn’t remember walking to the swing, or even kicking off my shoes—Charity noticed.

  “I helped you up and into the swing… and remembered how much you dislike shoes; I hope you don’t mind.”

  She took the now cool cloth from me and got up again.

  “I’m going to get us both some lemonade; I’ll be right back.”

  The pain in my head was now just a dull throbbing, but I still felt so weak.

  Charity returned, handed me a glass of lemonade, which she helped me bring to my lips, then took a sip from her own glass before setting it on the low table in front of us.

  “I won’t ask how you’re feeling, Layton, because to be honest, you look as white as a sheet, and tired as hell.”

  I nodded.

  “Soldiers always seem to be the ones that are the hardest hit when the phenomenon happens,” Charity said. “From everything I’ve ever seen, the pain seems to occur because of the fighting… the fighting of the memories.”

  “A good soldier always goes down fighting,” I said.

  “You fought longer than most,” she said. “It hurt me deeply to see the pain and absolute agony in your face. I don’t like to see soldiers and good men suffer.”

  “Thanks for your help,” I said. “Your voice and presence seemed to guide me through it somehow.”

  “I’ve seen it happen before, and if a person’s going to help, they need to be calm and reassuring.”

  “You know a lot about this ‘phenomenon.’”

  “Yes. I saw my mother help my father’s military friend go through this, but it only took two hours with him, not three.”

  “I was going through that for three hours?” I said. She nodded her head in response. Things started coming back into my mind. “I remember thinking of my dog Rusty and when he died… I can’t believe I cried over a dog I lost when I was ten years old.”

  “Did you cry when he died?”

  “No. And when I was overseas fighting and got the news about my dad dying in a car accident… I never shed a tear. Damn! I even remember biting my lip at the time to keep from crying.”

  “That’s why it hit you so hard.”

  “Like a grand purging,” I said. Then it suddenly hit me—she’d said I was like that for three hours. I reached into my pocket, got my cell phone and punched the number for Alex.”

  “Thank God, Layton!” Alex said. “We were all worried sick about you. Are you alright?”

  “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m fine, just enjoying lemonade and a cookie with a friend.”

  “Oh, God, you didn’t eat too many cookies and suffer from a Miss Lucy type problem did you.”

  “I am a little tired.” I saw Charity trying to get my attention. “Hang on a sec, honey.”

  “Layton, you might want to spend the night,” Charity said. “I don’t think you’re in shape to drive anywhere just yet.”

  “Alex, I’m gonna spend the night here in Aurora. But I swear to you everything is fine.”

  It took a few minutes to convince Alex of that, and to find out how things had gone with them before I could hang up the phone. I turned to Charity.

  “Zombie Prudence has succumbed, and is no longer among the living.”

  “I was surprised to hear you refer to me as a friend, Layton.”

  “An enemy would’ve taken the opportunity during those three hours to do me bodily harm. Charity, I really would like to hear what you were starting to say earlier—from the beginning.”

  “Well, my parents are scientists and biologists, who study the energy that living beings produce. It’s been scientifically proven that all living beings give off some sort of energy, which can be measured, but not always clearly defined.”

  “It doesn’t sound like you’re talking about new age type energy like auras and psychic stuff… or are you?”

  “No… not exactly, but in their studies, my parents did discover differences in the brain patterns of people living in psychic, or new age communities. They’ve also studied tribes and various religions around the world. Their findings were incredible, but they’ve always been leery of sharing them with others. Eventually, they settled here, where they continued their work. I earned my nursing degree and studied various languages—some dead, some still in use in order to help my parents with their work. But I have to admit their research into energy and brainwaves was way beyond my scope of understanding.”

  “You’re not quite the silly hippie chick I first took you for,” I said.

  “I wasn’t trying to fool you when we met. I’m very casual in how I dress, because my parents have always been casual, and I grew up in this community. But when you first met me, Miss Lucy and I were helping a couple of friends of mine in the community, who were under the weather. They were so upset at the thought of not being at their usual place to hand out flowers that I offered to go for them, and Miss Lucy volunteered to keep me company.”

  “And the whole Miss Lucy—beautiful aura thing?” I said.

  “Just a part of the gig,” I tried to act and do what they would with respect to their beliefs. My parents are Episcopalian, and so am I… baptized and everything.”

  “Isn’t living here and studying energy sort of at odds with your religious beliefs.”

  “Oh, no. My mother says that if we believe God created the earth, then who’s to say this type of energy doesn’t exist. The difference is that some people turn it into a religion, and others, like scientists, study it. My parents believe that there are all sorts of energies being given off around us that we can’t see, maybe even by the planet itself. They also studied Feng Shui, and have felt energy surge through their bodies in some locations.”

  “What did it feel like?” I said.

  “Not as strong as the blue light energy you mentioned… more like a slight electric shock, I suppose.”

  “Fascinating,” I said. “I mentioned the blue light, huh?”

  “Yes. And probably a lot more that you shouldn’t have said, but really couldn’t keep from saying. I won’t tell, although, I wonder if maybe the organization who hired you would be interested in my parents’ work… provided my parents agree, of course.”

  “Your parents are still alive? Hang on—I remember Prudence saying they were living in Nevada.”

  “Yes, but they’re studying a group of people in Asia right now. You mentioned the green-eyed ladies too while you were on the floor. Blood is considered a very powerful source of energy among various groups. I’ve heard it said that it’s because blood is considered life itself. The green-eyed lady statues were made of clay that was combined with the blood of the tribal members to give them power. I don’t really know much more than that.”

  “You were sitting out here when I arrived,” I said. “As if you were waiting for me.”

  “I couldn’t sleep, it was as if something was wrong, or someone I knew was in trouble. The last time I felt like that, we got a call from my aunt, who lives out of town, saying that my grandmother had died in her sleep.”

  “When my dad died, I was fighting overseas. That whole day I was feeling antsy and restless. It was as if some part of me knew he was gone and just needed confirmation.”

  “Exactly,” Charity said. “Poor Miss Lucy… I feel guilty now about feeding her all the stuff I did, because of Andrew from the store telling me she was a spy for some nasty group.”

  “I don’t think Miss Lucy really holds it against you—much. And it was a little funny seeing her running to the can every five minutes.” I laughed, and so did Charity. In the back of my mind, I made note of what Andrew had told her. There was no doubt in my mind now that he, and not Sandoval’s group, was the one talking about us to the people at the campground.

  “I’m amazed you’ve held so much inside of yourself, Layton. Your life has taken a strange and intense turn. Did you know all of this stuff existed before you went to work for the organization?”

  “I’d heard about cults and new age religion, but I never would’ve dreamed I’d see zombies walking around, or statues which cried emerald tears. I trust you, Charity, and I don’t say that often… actually, I take that back. I do seem to have said that a lot here.” Charity smiled at me. “In light of what I’ve just said about trusting you, I need to ask you a question, and I don’t want you to think I said the other stuff as a way of tricking you.”

 

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