"Because they move. That's the thrill."
"And there I thought we were the lowest scumbags in town."
Willy tugged at her arm. She followed him to the toolshed. They went in warily, Willy sure there would be another dead body propped up against the wall. Not this time.
He grabbed his trusty ax. Jesse took a hammer. When Willy looked at her, she said ?
"I think I can hit someone with it, better than a knife."
"Okay."
"Let's take some other tools."
"Gotcha."
Willy slid a long screwdriver into his back pocket. Jesse opted for a smaller ax. When they heard a noise, they froze. Through the dirty, dusty shed window, they saw Rickerson prowling around Tom's property. At first he was pensive, but then he began lunging to and fro.
"What the hell?" whispered Jesse.
"Remember the scratching?" Willy whispered back.
"It's Heather's dog. It haunts the yard."
"And it can't stand Rickerson."
"It seems to hate him a lot more than it hated us."
Rickerson's head was becoming increasingly bloody. He was fighting an invisible enemy, and this enemy was clearly an animal. After a moment's hesitation, Willy came bounding out of the shed.
He waved the ax in the air, but quickly put it down. Rickerson practically fell into this arms, smearing him with blood. Willy stepped in front of him.
"Down, boy. Down!"
He heard a growl, then a bark, and out of nowhere, in front of him, a thin, abused black Labrador materialized, then quickly vanished.
Willy continued talking to the invisible dog ghost.
"I will get Heather for you ?"
The black Labrador started to whine and from the rush of air, Willy understood he was restless, jumping around in anticipation of seeing Heather again.
Rickerson, clinging to Will's back, coughed and said:
"So you know where she is."
"I do."
"Where."
"You know, too, my man."
Chapter 27
The kitchen was empty; pale rays of amber sunlight poured in through the country-style windows. Frilly white curtains still hung to the sides, even if they were in tatters after so many years of abandonment. Jesse ran a sad finger along the window pane, freeing it from an unhealthy layer of dust. She dared to dream of living in this house for long, and of one day, getting around to cleaning the windows.
Willy was relieved to find the kitchen empty. Rickerson rushed to the sink, to tend to his bloodied face and parched lips. Jesse handed him a towel and started searching for bandages and scissors in the drawers. Willy held his ax high, and his hunch was right. Behind the next door, Tom hurled himself at him, brandishing his shovel.
Quickly, with the dexterity of a man who had been in many fights, Willy let go of the ax and grabbed the shovel by its long side and held it in an iron grip. Tom tugged at it furiously, yelling 'Let Go!', but Willy knocked him unconscious by head-butting him. Jesse and Rickerson cheered him on.
"Way to go, darlin'!"
Willy turned to her and grinned.
"Oh, Mr. Rick?"
"Ya, that'd be me."
"We bought duct tape and string and all manner of goodies ? they're stored in the car. Jesse'll get'em. Can you tie this fine Prince of Doom here up real nice, so he'll stay put in the Gallery."
"Okay, but not in the Gallery."
"Why?"
Rickerson shifted his weight from foot to foot restlessly. He did not want to say more.
"But you are gonna tie him up ?"
"That I will do, gladly."
"Okay, so we can agree on that."
"Just on more thing ?" Rickerson said.
"What's that?" growled Willy.
"Puppy is out there."
"Oh, yeah, I forgot."
"And now?"
"Wait until I have Heather. If Tom comes to, hit him one more time with the shovel. ? But do not, I repeat, DO NOT kill him."
"Oh, and Jesse?" added Willy.
"Hmmh ??"
"Make some more coffee, sugar and cream this time."
"Sure."
She smiled. It was a ghastly smile. The past hours had taken a toll on her.
He was off. He took the stairs two steps at a time with renewed energy and resolve. When he came up to the Gallery, he paused. He listened.
At first, he heard nothing but his pulse drumming in his ears from running up the stairs, but as he breathed and calmed, the whispers started, and he could see blood oozing down along the walls. He grinned.
"Fuck, I never believed in this shit. It's a sight to see."
He walked into the Gallery, head bowed. When he came upon Heather, he was sure he saw a twinkle in her eye. He put one hand underneath her thigh and one hand behind her neck. He imagined her wrapping her arms around him and helping him carry her. No such luck. She was stiff as a rod. And she was heavy. Heavier than Willy had expected.
He pulled her out of her chair and managed to get her over his shoulder, but it was a struggle. He nearly lost his balance.
"Bitch, you were trouble in life and now you're trouble in death!"
He headed towards the door. He paused. Then he turned.
The largest mummy, Mommy Mummy or the regal Queen of Mannequins, stood on display at the end of the room, in the largest, most adorned chair. He thought he would catch her staring. She had her eyes closed and her face had taken abuse from the fall. Her great beauty, however, was evident nonetheless. Next to her stood a small table, with assorted syringes and glass bottles. Tom had been hoping to restore her features.
"Aha," said Willy out loud.
"The secret formula."
"But I don't have time for this right now," he said out loud, twitching slightly when he heard a scream.
"Aunt Sophie!" Willy growled.
Another bloodcurdling scream echoed throughout the hallway outside of the Gallery.
"What happened?" Willy mocked her.
"Are you stuck in the economy class of death?"
As he stepped out of the Gallery - careful to avoid the many glass shards -, he saw a ghostly figure briefly, with wild red hair and a mass of old-fashioned petticoats, standing on the top step of the stairs, leering at him. She (the ghost was decidedly female, though not in an attractive way) grinned at him with horrible teeth before she summersaulted backwards out of view.
"Hot damn," muttered Willy.
He heaved his heavy charge down three floors and into the long hallway leading to the kitchen. Jesse and Rickerson were standing guard over Tom's unconscious body. Rickerson tried to conceal his feelings when he saw the lifeless, embalmed body of his only daughter. But there was a pained look in his eyes, the corners of which were moist.
"Can I look at her for a bit?" he asked.
"Hold her maybe?"
"No time," Willy barked.
"Gotta get the critter out of the way."
"She'll always be yours," Jesse added.
"I'm no expert in mummies, but she might last a long time ? and you can always look at her, and be with her like."
Willy frowned at her.
Chapter 28
"Open the door, so I can get the mummy out, stupid bitch" he growled.
Jesse let out a sob, as if physically hurt by his words, but she complied, holding the kitchen door wide open.
"Let me help ya?" offered Rickerson.
"Dog might not take kindly to you ?" Willy said.
Rickerson faded back into the shadows of the house. Jesse and Willy watched him step over Tom's body, no doubt searching for bandages or going for a breather.
Willy was cradling Heather in his arms. She was stuck in a sitting position, stiff as a dead person could be. Willy stepped out into the bold sunlight, straining to hear the faintest sound.
Jesse stood leaning on the doorframe, her arms crossed over her meager chest. Willy turned and motioned with his head.
"Get back insid
e," he ordered. And in a softer voice:
"Might get ugly."
"I'm not going, Will. You can't always tell me what to do."
"Have it your way. So get the shovel or the ax."
"It's an animal ghost."
Willy turned again, annoyed.
"So tell me, Jess', how do we fight an animal ghost? With pepper spray? Or garlic?"
"You have no heart, Will. The dog is trying to tell us something ?"
"That it misses Heather."
"And that it wasn't buried."
"Dog's don't care, believe me."
"It was guarding her, against all the ghosts."
"That is more likely."
"It was protecting her against Aunt Sophie, and all the spirits that couldn't pass over into the light because they were murdered and not properly buried."
From the side, Willy heard a whoosh! Cold air rushed by. He set Heather down in a lawn chair, white and dirty. He sat in a chair next to her, holding her hand. He heard panting, as if a dog were close by and breathing hard.
"There, boy, good boy," he comforted.
Then he heard the ghost dog whine. It was an awful sound.
"I'll put her in the barn, and you can visit her anytime."
The dog growled. Willy sighed. He continued stroking Heather's hand, holding it, kissing it, cherishing it.
"I guess I done the woman wrong."
He sighed again. The dog was closer. Willy remembered its scratching.
"I will put her in the Gallery. And I will look for your remains ?"
From close by, sounding very muffled, a dog bark was heard.
"That's what he wants," Jesse said, risking a few steps into the yard.
"Damn," Willy hissed, a tear forming in the corner of his eye.
"Follow your heart, Will."
"I didn't know I had one," Willy coughed up, his voice cracking.
He moved Heathers' stone-cold hand slowly to his lips and kissed her knuckles one last time, then he got up and swept her up into his arms.
"I'll do my best, buddy," he said to the ghost dog.
He took Heathers' body back into the house. Jesse closed the door behind him.
Chapter 29
I have been awake for quite some time. But I am most certainly not letting THEM in on it. Bastards have taken me hostage in my own house! How dare they! Oh, may they dread the moment I have the upper hand once again. I will butcher them ? I will throw pieces of them into the river, I will feed pieces of them to the pigs!
Mother, I must get back to Mom, or her face will never be the same ? (sobs). Her beautiful face is the only good thing in this world. I cannot hear her ? no whispers of "bury me, bury me' down here in my high-tech command center. This cellar, for some reason I have never understood, is free of all the freak show circus hauntings Aunt Sophie imposes on this house. It was blessed by a priest when a family member was dying, or some other mantra was spoken.
I had lived here with my first mistress, and we lived well. I inherited a fortune, the interest of which was more than enough ? we drank wine and tried drugs, we had sex many times - day and night. I felt free. Then she could not stop wandering through the house. She could not stop imploring me to do something about the Gallery. She felt so sorry for the poor souls held captive up there ? forever.
And so it happened. I choked her, to silence her words ? and she became the fabled 'No. Twelve" ?
It did not end there. The dead were not happy. The dead are never happy.
"Tom?"
Jesse had ventured down into the cellar after a lavish meal with Willy and some movies on one of Tom's laptops. When Willy drove off to buy some drugs from the young people hanging out on Lover's Lane, she thought the time was right to finally wake Tom up.
"Tom? Can you hear me? Are you hungry?"
She ran her fingers through his hair; he did not move. She caressed his cheek, and planted a kiss on his mouth. He did not move.
Irritated, she then jabbed at his hand with a fork. Again, he did not budge. When she reached under his arms and wiggled her hand to tickle him, he grinned.
"Hey, there you are! I knew it!"
His eyes snapped open. His mouth twisted and his face scrunched together. There was loathing in his every move. Jesse recoiled.
"Don't like being tied up, huh?"
"Bitch!" he muttered.
"I haven't peed in a century. It's gonna come out any minute now."
"I'll get a bucket, and you can pee in that."
"What the hell!
"Willy said you have got to stay put ? and suffer a little."
"Is that what he said?"
Jesse nodded innocently. Tom grinned again, bowing his head.
"Look," he said gently.
"You were in the Gallery when Mom fell ?"
"She fell 'cause you pushed her."
"I have got to repair her face."
"How can I ever trust you again? You were so mean to the mummies ? and to me."
"I made a mistake. I'm sorry."
"Oh, yeah."
"Please. I have to go to the Gallery."
"Last time I checked, her face was fine."
"When was that?"
"While you were sleeping."
"There were syringes on a small table next to her."
"They're still there."
"Rickerson?"
"I watched."
"How can he know?"
"He said he learned a thing or two growing up around your Aunt Sophie."
Tom was growing restless. He tried to rock the chair he was bound to back and forth.
"Stop! Wait until Willy comes back."
"This is my house. You can't keep me a hostage here!"
"Aunt Sophie says we are all going to be held here. Forever."
"And ? what is it this time?"
"What do you mean?" asked Jesse, brushing back a strand of unruly hair from his forehead.
"First, there had to be twelve mummies in the Gallery. Then everything would get better. Then, there could be no more than twelve. Or bad things would happen. It stays the same, no matter the number."
"You can't kill everyone you meet, Tom."
"Why not?"
"Sooner or later, they'll find you."
"I was hoping for that, but it never happened."
"There is a little something wrong with the cops in this town."
"Rickerson buys them off."
"And why?"
"So he can run the place like God."
"There must be more to it."
She helped Tom drink water from a bottle. He drank greedily. Jesse poured some water over his eyes, his face. He looked deep into her eyes. There was love there, even after all that had happened.
Chapter 30
Willy came thundering down the wooden cellar steps. He had a pack of cigarettes in his hand. He stood in the shadows, watching Jesse and Tom interact. They hadn't heard him coming.
"Hello," he said.
"Oh, Willy, are you back so soon?" asked Jesse.
"Am I interrupting your conversation?"
"You are," growled Tom.
"There is more going on," Willy said, grabbing a chair and turning it backwards, sitting down with his arms folded over the back of the chair.
"Do you earn your money off of your mother's moves?" he asked aggressively, "or are you gonna act like you don't know what I'm talking about?"
"My mother?"
"Done saw it myself. She can open her eyes. She can make faces."
"Yeah," added Jesse thoughtfully.
"She can even get up and walk around. But she's in a lot of pain then."
"Folks who sell marijuana over on Lover's Peak say there is a thing called 'Balm-Cam'. Say it has millions of viewers."
"That's bullshit!" snorted Tom.
"Wouldn't surprise me none if I heard you're running it."
"Yeah, Tom, how do you make your money?" asked Jesse, her hands on her hips.
"I am the h
eir to Sophie and Umberto's million-dollar fortune."
"Funeral parlor don't bring in that much. Unless it's a Mafia funeral parlor."
"There was the secret embalming fluid," said Tom.
"It does the trick, doesn't it," said Jesse.
"It's amazing."
"And you didn't know about 'Balm-Cam', did you?"
"I knew something was wrong, and I knew someone was meddling in my business, but I could never put a finger on it."
"Rickerson, you think?" Willy asked, drawing the chair closer.
"Possible. You saw how Heather and Rickerson walk all over the place. He always said he wanted to buy the land. As an excuse to contact me again and again."
"He has a mannequin factory?"
"The irony of it is not lost on me," Tom said.
"The perfect decoy operation, hiding in plain sight."
"He had the cameras rigged. I thought only I was trying to catch the corpses moving."
"I might not be inclined to believe you," Willy interjected.
"But you are not a good man, Tom."
"Coming from you, you bastard?"
"Look, here's the deal," said Willy, while Jesse nodded.
"We will keep you locked up down here. We'll treat you right. You share your money with us."
"What if I don't want to?"
"Then you die a slow death, a very slow, very painful death. Say we pump only half the embalming fluid into your body ? Or we bury you next to Aunt Sophie."
"You don't know where that is!"
"I'll ask her," Willy said bluntly.
"She likes to visit me private like, when I'm sleeping or in bed."
"Motherfucking son-of-a-bitch!"
"Coming from you? Why were you watching the Gallery?"
When he said nothing, Jesse leaned in close to his face and said:
"We need to know about the ATM. We need you to share your money with us."
"Fuck you!"
"Wait till he's hungry or he needs to shit."
Tom strained against the ropes and plastic handcuffs, against the duct tape around his chest.
"Don't bother," Willy hissed at him, slapping him.
"You're wrapped up real good, fucker. And it's gonna stay that way."
Chapter 31
Jesse was cruising along, listening to music, when she saw the diner next to the gas station where Nick Edwards had displayed those tempting pieces of pie. Determined to risk her luck and curious about the goings-on of her mysterious new hometown, Jesse exited the highway and parked in front of the diner's red door.