Part of her wanted to say "Forget the geocache, I'm not getting out of this jeep." But she didn't; she would have felt silly. There was nothing out here but trees and dust covered toys.
She clutched her flashlight, left the jeep running and found the cache, another green metal ammo box, across the road under a fallen fence post. The night was still and quiet as she retrieved the little log book from the box, this time careful to keep the latch from banging open. She took it to the hood of the jeep to note her geocacher's handle and the date. She turned to replace the log book but was halted by a glance at the grave. The hair raised on the back of her neck. The Virgin Marys were upright and all facing her.
She felt a strong urge to drop the log book and get in her jeep. She was sure the statues had been toppled over and disheveled when she had pulled up. She wasn't certain now. She forced herself to walk back to the cache and replace the log book. Her hands trembled and she fumbled with the latch. She just wanted to be done and gone, to get back to Oscar who was surely walking from room to room in her tiny house, wondering where she was.
Aayla shoved the box back under the fence post and stood up, patting her pocket for the reassurance of her cell phone. It wasn't there. She had left it on the hood of the jeep. Panic quickened her heartbeat and shaking legs nearly betrayed her as she stumbled back across the road.
She didn't want to look at the grave again. She tried to focus on the jeep. But something had changed. She clenched her jaw and turned her eyes to the grave. The dolls were sitting up, their arms outstretched toward her, eyes wide in the glare of the headlights.
Her heart pounded. This was a sick joke. Who would do this? Who could do this so quickly and silently? She slapped the hood of the jeep with both hands. No cell phone. She was so out of breath that she was getting dizzy. She searched the ground but could barely see anything now. Inside; she must have left it in the seat. She yanked open the jeep door. A small cry thrust from her throat and the heat drained from her body. A dirt-covered doll lay in the seat.
She stumbled back a step. She was losing her senses and felt like she was no longer completely there, as if in a dream. She spun around off balance, arms out, her breath jerking in and out in gasps. Something else had changed. She felt faint. A dark shape lay in the ditch by the fence post. She had just come from there. She stared until realization settled over her. She was looking at her own body, her own blond hair soaked in blood, draped over a rock.
Her heart stilled. The cold night air stole through her soul. She felt thin as a wisp of wind. A hand slipped inside hers. She looked down and the solemn girl looked up. Her mouth did not move but her words crawled into Aayla's mind. Don't ever leave me again.