How wrong they were.
On every investigation, Burke hoped to see something, anything manifest itself for his instruments to record, hoped to somehow find the thing that had attacked him so many years before ... hoped to prove to the world that it existed, that it was all too real. And yet, every search to this point had been a fruitless one, every promising lead a disappointment.
He reached for his class files and found Kim Saunders’ folder. The face on her student ID photo was happy, smiling, in stark contrast to the wounded soul that left his office in a rush.
If anyone could help him find the answers, he had a feeling it would be her.
8
They had been quiet since leaving the Rollerdome, and Tyler found himself sneaking glances at Kim. She was pretty, very pretty, but she carried herself as if she didn’t know it. She was slender, but not thin; “fit” was perhaps a better word for it. Her heart-shaped face was pale, her lips rosy, and her dark eyes appeared just a little bit sad.
They entered Memorial Park, walked beneath an archway: limestone covered over by a green blanket of ivy, then turned down a path toward the Student Union. The concrete walk was still dark from a late afternoon shower, and the scent of wet pine trees filled the air. Streetlamps ignited, their orange glow caught by the spray of fountains and made to dance across reflecting pools. Tomorrow morning, these walkways would be filled with students hurrying to get to and from their various classrooms and lecture halls. Tonight, however, the trails were deserted.
“So,” Tyler began, breaking the silence, “If I asked you what you were thinking about, would you tell me?”
She blinked, then gave him a nervous little giggle. “Isn’t that the sort of thing the girl’s supposed to ask?”
He feigned offense. “Sexist much?”
“What can I say, I’m old-fashioned. Not used to the whole sensitive, metro-sexual male thing yet.” There was an uncomfortable pause, and he could see her struggle to bring words to her lips. Finally, she asked, “Do you ever think about death?”
Tyler was taken aback. “I’m a doctor.”
“Oh ... right. Ever seen someone die?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I’ve seen a few.”
She looked at the sidewalk, then said, “Ever find yourself wondering if there’s something after?”
“Are you asking me if I believe in Heaven?”
She shrugged, her hand on the crucifix that hung from her neck, “Not so much a heaven, just ... I don’t know ... something.”
The frigid winter had yielded grudgingly to a balmy spring, but a chilly breeze now blew across the green. Kim wore a light T-shirt and jeans, and she shivered against the sudden cold. Tyler took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“Here,” he said.
“Aren’t you going to be cold?”
“No. I’m warm actually.”
She smiled up at him. “Thanks.”
They walked on, and for a moment, Tyler considered changing the topic of conversation to something less morbid. Instead, he told her, “Death and I are at war. Sometimes I win, and I’m on top of the world. Sometimes he wins, and those days ... those are not good days. If I thought these people were going to a better place, maybe it would be easier to accept, but it’s never easy to lose a patient.”
“So when we die it just all stops? You’re here and then you’re not, and that’s it, game over?”
“There was a patient that came in and died without ever regaining consciousness, but the others ... they were wheeled in wide awake, alert and oriented right up until the moment they coded. I looked into their eyes, and I saw this ... this intense fear, fear of dying, of the unknown. A couple even wore religious medals, a Star of David, and one had a crucifix like yours. They believed in God or a Jesus or whatever, but at the moment their hearts stopped beating, they were still scared out of their minds.”
“Maybe they were afraid to face their God, afraid to be judged and wind up in Hell or something.”
“Or maybe they were just afraid that they’d lived their whole lives believing in a lie, like a child who wakes up too early one Christmas morning and finds his parents stuffing his stockings and trying to figure out instructions on how to put his bicycle together.”
“Personal experience?”
He snickered. “Not me. My parents are Jewish.”
“Aren’t you Jewish too?”
“I consider myself to be an agnostic. God’s never given me a reason to believe in Him, but after going to temple for so many years, I’m afraid to piss Him off too much, just in case.”
He gave her a wink and she grinned, but the joy did not spread to her eyes. They were still sad and serious. Tyler grew concerned.
“Is somebody ill?” he asked.
“Huh?” Kim gave him a questioning stare. “No. Why?”
“Well, it’s just that ...” He held up his hand. “Not that I mind deep or anything, it’s actually kind of refreshing, but you just looked upset about something, and you’ve been really fiddling with your crucifix.”
She looked down, found her fingers rubbing the silver necklace. “Sorry, nervous habit.”
“I don’t want to make you nervous.”
“You’re not.” Kim let go of the crucifix; let it fall against her chest. “It was my Grandmother’s necklace. Mom gave it to me when I graduated from high school.”
She wrapped her arm around Tyler’s as they walked, and he liked the way it felt.
“It’s a funny story, actually,” she said.
“Funny ha-ha, or funny strange?”
“Just odd. Mom’s looking for a pair of earrings, and she finds the necklace in her jewelry box. She swore Grandma was wearing it when they buried her, said she never took it off when she was alive. It’s been blessed by the Pope. Mom said Grandma’s my guardian angel, that she must have wanted me to have it.”
Tyler smiled indulgently. “That is wacky.”
“Wacky?” She let loose another nervous giggle. “That’s my Mom. Wacky.”
They fell silent. Mist drifted across the path, as if the pavement were steaming.
Eventually, Tyler said, “It’s getting kind of spooky out here.”
“Yeah,” she muttered, then blurted, “Have you ever seen a ghost?”
“No. How about you?”
Kim opened her mouth to speak, reconsidered, then shrugged and said, “There’s this covered bridge back in Greencastle where I grew up. Edna Collings Bridge. Back in the 20’s there was this family who would go there for picnics along the stream that runs under it. They would eat and lounge around. The father would fish, and the little girl would swim in the stream.
“Anyway, when it started to get dark, the parents would drive into the covered bridge, turn off their motor, and honk three times. That was the signal for the little girl that it was time to go home.
“One day, when they honked their horn, the girl didn’t come. They looked everywhere for her, and finally, they found her body. She’d drowned.
“For years we’d all heard the story: if you drove into the bridge at night, turned off your motor and honked your horn three times, just like her parents did, the ... the ghost of that drowned little girl would come get into your car, ready to go home with you.”
“I think I’ve heard this story too,” Tyler said, “but I thought she came if you honked five times.”
“No, it was three.” Kim corrected with an uneasy grin.
“So did you ever actually go to this bridge and try it out?”
She nodded and her grin withered instantly. She gripped his arm a little tighter and said, “It was Halloween night. I was dressed as Little Red Riding Hood, with a short skirt and a little wicker basket.”
Tyler tried not to smile as he pictured it.
“We’d gone to Angela Peter’s party, me and my ... my ex-boyfriend, Carter.” She took her eyes from the path to glance up at him. “He used to call me ‘Sweet Lips.’”
He couldn’t sto
p himself from laughing. “And you liked that?”
“I thought it was cute ’til I got here and took an American History class. Turns out that’s what George Washington named his dog.”
They both laughed at that, but Kim’s laughter had more than a hint of bitterness to it.
She went on. “Anyway, Angela’s party was totally lame. She had us bobbing for apples, if you can believe that. So Carter talked me into leaving early and going out to the bridge. I knew it was just an excuse to get me alone. I was fine with that. He was the star receiver on the football team, and more popular than the damn quarterback.”
Kim looked startled and glanced up at Tyler as if she might have offended him by mentioning an old flame.
Tyler reached over and rubbed her arm, wanting her to continue.
She did, “I was nervous about going out there at night. I kept telling myself there was nothing to be scared of. Nothing. After all, I said, there’s no such things as ghosts ... even on Halloween.
“Carter drove us out to the middle of the bridge and turned off his motor, you had to turn off your motor or it wouldn’t work, then he hit the horn ... once ... twice ... three times. A second later, this bat smacks the windshield right in front of me.”
“Seriously?” Tyler asked.
Kim nodded. “Scared the shit out of me.”
“I bet.”
“But that wasn’t the worst of it. It got colder, so cold I could see my own breath, and I asked Carter to turn on the motor so we could have some heat, but he said the ghost wouldn’t show if we had the car running.
“That was when the passenger window shattered.
“I threw my arms up over my face. The glass was everywhere. When I lowered my hands, I saw someone step out of the shadows. She ran to my door, a little girl with a ... a blue, wrinkled face, these sunken eyes, and green hair that was all matted with sediment.”
Tyler stared at her in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”
“That’s what I saw,” she insisted. “This ... dead ... thing walked up to the car and said she was ready to go. I’ll never forget that voice as long as I live.” Kim hunched over and tried to imitate it, words oozing from her mouth in a horrible whisper, “‘I’m ready to go home now. Ready to go home’”
He felt suddenly cold and had the urge to look over his shoulder. There was nothing there. They were alone on the path. Alone in the dark.
Kim said, “It actually reached into the car and grabbed my arm. Its hand was really ...” She grimaced. “...spongy. I screamed so hard I thought my throat was going to tear open, and then Carter turned on the engine and slammed his foot on the gas. When the car lurched forward, the little girl’s wet grip slipped from my wrist and she was gone.”
“You both saw this?” Tyler asked, his arms turning to gooseflesh.
“No, Carter didn’t see the dead girl. He thought it was just another bat, thought it flew into the station wagon and broke the window and that’s what made me scream. I never told him what really happened. I knew how it would sound. I never told anyone until right now.”
They exchanged a look, then Kim was quiet for a moment. Tyler glanced up the path and saw the large stone arch that marked the park’s exit. It was just ahead. Soon, they would be back on a main street.
“I can’t even imagine how frightened you must have been,” he told her.
She said, “I know it’s hard to believe, I probably wouldn’t have believed it unless it happened to me, but it did happen. The window broke and the girl grabbed me. She grabbed me so hard I had bruises. I still have bad dreams about it.”
He nodded. “I can imagine.”
“No. I don’t think you can.”
They left the park behind. Parked cars, some new, some in various stages of disrepair, lined the cobblestone street. Across from them sat a row of dorms. Light spilled from many of their windows, but others were dark holes in their ivy-covered walls. Kim’s door was now just a block away.
“What kind of doctor do you want to be?” she suddenly asked.
He blinked, looked over at her and chuckled. “A good one, I hope.”
She lightly slapped his arm. “No, I mean a foot doctor? Family practice?”
“Some kind of specialist. That’s what my parents have always dreamed of, anyway. My uncle’s a plastic surgeon in Florida. He’s offered to let me join his practice if I want.”
“Sounds like you don’t want.”
“Few lives have been saved by changing an A-cup to a D-cup.”
“My friend Joss would beg to differ. He’d say you were providing a valuable service for all of mankind.”
Tyler shook his head. “A woman who’s all-natural is far more attractive.”
She flashed a genuine smile. “I like you, Dr. Tyler.”
He grinned as well. After her little horror story, a tornado siren had gone off at the back of his brain, screaming warnings, telling him that this girl was far too strange, that he should say goodnight as soon as possible, just drop her off on the steps of her dorm, walk away and never look back. But a much larger part of him was deaf to these alarms. He wasn’t attracted to her in spite of her weirdness, but maybe because of it. He definitely wanted to get to know her better. In fact, he didn’t really want to say goodnight to Kim at all.
But that ghost story ...
... reminded Tyler of his late grandfather. The man swore until the day he died that he’d seen Bigfoot walking through the woods. There were those who’d roll their eyes and snicker about it behind the old man’s back, and still others brave enough to call him a loon to his face, but nothing could ever get Grandpa to recant his wild tale.
Tyler could see the same conviction in Kim’s eyes.
She actually believed in the ghost she’d described for him. It may have seemed very real at the time, but Tyler knew there had to be a more plausible explanation. By her own admission, Kim had seen this specter on Halloween. It was dark, and some drunken kid in a zombie costume probably took a prank too far. And if there’d been alcohol at that party, she might have even been more than a little tipsy herself.
They crossed the street and made their way up the walk to the front steps of Elizabeth Todd Hall, the women’s dorm. Kim climbed the first step, then turned to face him. “This is my stop. I’d invite you up to my room, but it’s kind of a big no-no.”
“I wouldn’t want you to get kicked out or anything.”
Her lips curled into a grin and she brushed a few stray hairs away from her eyes. “Thank you.” She paused and squeezed his hand. “For everything.”
“Our second date ...”
“Yes?”
“I’ve got a twelve hour shift at the hospital tomorrow, but I would love to cook you a late dinner.”
“You sure you wanna cook after that?”
He shrugged, looked down at her hand in his. “I gotta eat.”
“Sure, sounds great.” Her smile widened. “Nobody’s ever cooked for me before.”
“I’d hoped to be the first.”
They remained there a moment, hand in hand. Standing on the step, Kim’s eyes were now level with his, as were her lips.
“I think this is where I give you a goodnight kiss,” he told her.
She nodded and closed her eyes in anticipation.
Tyler hesitated, studying her face, as if he could glean some understanding from it, but all he could see was her beauty. He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, tasting strawberries. He started to pull away, but she reached up and put her free hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. They stood there, as if neither wanted to be the first to break free.
“It’s getting late,” Kim told him when they finally parted. “I’ve got an early class tomorrow.”
“Me too. Work, though, not class.” He snickered. “I have no class. My shift at the Med Center starts at seven in the morning. How’s eight o’clock tomorrow night? Too late?”
“Eight’s fine.”
“I’ll pick you up ri
ght here.” He kissed her hand, then let it go and backed away. “Goodnight, Kim.”
“Goodnight, Dr. Tyler.”
He watched her run up the steps, enter a code into the security keypad by the door, then turn and wave. Tyler waved back, and when she was safely inside, he moved off down the sidewalk alone.
This time, he didn’t cut through the park to get to his car, but walked all the way around it. He passed an old cemetery, its white tombstones pushed out of the ground like the tips of bony fingers, and for the first time since he was a child, he found himself wondering ...
9
Kim’s room was on the third floor. Last semester, the dorm had been infested with roaches. Frustrated, and totally grossed out, Tashima had purchased an iguana to eat the little pests. It worked wonders. For months, they had the only bug-free room in Todd Hall. Then the lizard got sick. Turned out, the poison the campus used against the roaches worked better on it.
She shook her head and snickered.
No need for Wild Kingdom now.
During the Christmas break, every room had been cleaned and fumigated. The university had even sprung for new carpet and a fresh coat of paint. Kim liked the powder blue color of the carpeting, but the walls had been done in a mustard color that reminded her of baby poop.
Music filtered through several closed doors at the top of the stairs, forming an odd chorus of conflicting styles. Two girls were checking the bulletin board where announcements and schedules for local events were posted. High-pitched laughter exploded from Nicole Jensen’s open doorway. Kim looked in to see her lying across her bedspread with a phone in her hand.
Kim was surprised to find that she liked Tyler as much as she did. He was a doctor after all, and once she got passed his handsomeness, she thought they would have nothing in common, nothing to talk about. That had not been the case. He was a nice guy, and he made her feel comfortable, made her feel safe. When she told him about the ... the bridge, she thought he would think she was nuts. Maybe he did, but if so, he didn’t let on. He wanted to see her again, and she was surprised at just how amazing that made her feel.