Hurt: A Novel (Solitary Tales Series) (17 page)

57. Armor

“Sorry buddy. I brought it to a guy I know who fixes everything, and he couldn’t fix it. Even though it has lighter fluid and everything.”

Mounds hands me the Zippo I had let him take to a friend to fix. I flick it a few times, but it does nothing.

“That thing’s too rusted,” Mounds adds. “Your mom gave it to you?”

“Yeah. Family thing.”

“I have a good feeling about today,” Mounds says. “Once we find the place, of course.”

Mounds is looking at his phone to try and see what the GPS is telling him, but he doesn’t seem to be having any luck. The winding roads that curve around these hills don’t always make cell service easy. It’s easy to get disconnected around here.

In more ways than one.

“What’s your good feeling?” I ask.

“You. You’re like my good-luck charm.”

I can’t help but laugh. I’m a bit nervous. Seems I wake up and go to bed nervous these days.

“Man, I’ve never had so much action happen in all my time of doing this. I think—I really think some people are just wired differently. It’s like they have some kind of magnetic ability about them, something that draws in spirits.”

“Must be my cologne.”

Mounds looks at my deadpan delivery and then howls in laughter.

“You’re funny, too.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Hilarious.”

At least someone is laughing.

“So what are we looking for today?”

It’s the middle of a murky Saturday. Snow fell last night and then melted this morning, and now everything looks slightly mushy, like something taken out of a fridge that’s defrosted but looks kind of gross.

“It’s a place called the Grounds.”

Oh no.

“What?” Mounds asks, seeing the look on my face.

“Nothing.”

“You been there, huh? Heard about it?”

I nod.

“What’d you see? Tell me—what’d you find there?”

How about a beautiful dark-haired sixteen-year-old girl in a white dress, tied to a rock with her throat slashed?

I shake my head and look ahead. I’m not sure where we are. If I knew, I’d be able to point him in the direction of the opening at the top of the mountain that has massive stones circling it like Stonehenge.

“A lot of kids go up there for a little uh-uh-uh,” Mounds says. “I bet you did too.”

I give him a polite smile. But suddenly I don’t want to earn any money. I don’t want to see what spirits or ghosts or animals will come out to play today.

I’m scared.

What if she’s there?

It’s crazy to think something like this. Out of all the things I’ve seen—and I’ve seen a lot—I think the absolute last thing I want to see is Jocelyn.

I don’t want to be reminded.

“Ah, there it is, Lookout Drive.” Mounds laughs. “Kinda fitting, huh.
Lookout for the zombie coming your way
!”

He starts talking about the newest zombie show on cable. When I say I haven’t seen it, he proceeds to give me all the highlights. Like every single one.

The road turns to gravel as we bounce along in his minivan. Eventually it turns into flattened grass that cars have driven over. A grassy hill like the top of a bald man’s head inches upward from where we’re parked.

In the center of the top of that hill are boulders and stones and a fire pit.

I remember a doubting Sheriff Wells talking about the Grounds and telling me that I was making all of that up about Jocelyn and the men in the hooded robes.

So much has happened in the last year.

We get out of the minivan and feel the cold cloud that seems to be hovering around this place. It just makes it all the more ominous and spooky.

“Can’t barely see the stones, but I know they’re there,” Mounds says.

I grab the equipment box and follow him.

I remember in another life this girl I was crazy about showing me this place from the opposite side in the woods.

Jocelyn mentioned the guy named Stuart Algiers who had gone missing, the one dating Poe. She said he had confided in her about seeing a flat stone suddenly show up as a warning sign—the same type of stone Jocelyn had found in her bed.

She knew what had happened to Stuart. He had been sacrificed in this very place.

She knew and yet—

Time ticked away.

The numbers on the clock fell down on the floor … then went up in flames.

“Come on, pick up the pace!” Mounds says.

When a guy this heavy and out of shape tells you to pick up the pace, it means you’re really moving slow.

I’m not even moving at all.

We reach the crest of the hill, and I see the odd-shaped rocks. Everything here looks different in the daytime, even in the fog.

Everything looked bigger.

The boulders are all different sizes and shapes. There are about seven of them, and they’re not necessarily in a circle. If you were to connect-the-rocks, you’d get something resembling more of a star. A strange-shaped star.

There are smaller stones within the star.

The place that Jocelyn called the fire pit in the center doesn’t seem to be there.

Mounds has something new he bought that looks like a wand with a cord on it attached to a box. He tells me to take out the item I call the ghost detector with the long arm you wave over the ground. I still think these tools are completely useless, and maybe just for show, but Mounds certainly believes in them.

“Scan the immediate ground right inside the stones,” he says.

He’s already wandering off toward one of the largest boulders as I’m unpacking the piece. The fog is so thick that he seems to fade away. I get the tool and quickly head toward him.

The farther I walk, the thicker the fog seems to get.

“Hey, Mounds.”

Nothing.

“Mounds! Hey, where you’d go?”

I reach one of the boulders and am waving the ghost detector on the ground.

I feel a breeze, and it looks as if the fog is being blown away. At least from the center of the hilltop.

As I turn my head toward the center, I no longer feel so cold. The wind is still blowing, but somehow it seems like there’s a rush of warm air coming through.

Then I see her.

Jocelyn is standing in the center of these rocks. The ground isn’t hard and scarred underneath her, but rather green and grassy.

I drop the junk in my hands.

“Jocelyn?”

I know it’s just a dream or a vision, but I don’t want it to go. I don’t want whatever it is about her to leave, like when you know you’re dreaming but you like the dream you’re in and you’re seconds away from waking up.

I take a few more steps.

The fog continues to disappear, and suddenly I see blue sky.

The cloud has opened up in a circle to reveal the clear sky above and the clear image of Jocelyn below.

I’ve missed you so much.

Each step I take gets slower, more careful. I know she’s going to be like a gigantic bubble that’s hovering right in front of you until it suddenly pops and spills soap all over you.

“Jocelyn, don’t leave, please,” I say.

She smiles, looking the way she did when I last saw her. A grown-up and more beautiful (if that’s possible) Jocelyn. She’s wearing a dark overcoat that matches her hair.

Her eyes don’t look away for a second.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I tell her as I stand several feet away from her.

“It’s okay now.”

I start to reach out to her, but she gently shakes her head, then gives me a reassuring smile. “You’re doing the right things.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I say. “Or where I am or who I’m supposed to be.”

“Be yourself.”

“I tried that, and it didn’t work so much.”

“That’s the beauty of grace, Chris. That’s the amazing gift we’re given. Time and time again.”

“Is this a dream?”

“No. You’re really here.”

“And Mounds?”

“He can’t see us.”

“I’m going crazy, you know,” I say.

“I’m sure it can’t be easy dealing with this.”

“Yeah, especially when you’re trying to figure out trigonometry at the same time.”

I’m nervous, and out of my mouth comes sarcasm. I’m glad to see it makes Jocelyn grin.

“What am I supposed to do? How can I get help?”

“You’re the one who must help others.”

“But how?” I ask. “Like with what?”

“With the things you already have. Faith. Love. Hope. And humility.”

I sure don’t feel like I have any of those things, but I’m not about to tell her she’s wrong.

“I didn’t mean to send you away.”

“You didn’t understand,” she says. “It’s okay.”

“I’ve messed up.”

“You probably will again.”

I sigh. “Yeah.”

“Take the tools you’ve been given, and use them.”

“What—tools?”

“The things you know. The things you already have. ‘Put on all of God’s armor so that you will be able to stand firm against all strategies of the devil.’”

“Is that armor like one-size-fits-all?”

Again, the nervous nonsense coming out of my mouth. And once again, the sweet smile to follow.

“Ephesians six, Chris. Ten through twenty. Those are important words for you. They will help you. Especially when you are on your own.”

“I’ve been on my own.”

“But you’re never fully on your own. It might seem like it. But this world and this life are but a flicker. This world is darkness, Chris. But His light never fades away.”

“Jocelyn—can I—are you going—”

“Chris, you have to be strong. They need you.”

“Who?’

“Too many to name.”

I look around but can only see the haze surrounding us.

“Too many?” I ask. “That feels like pressure.”

“You are going to be tested, and you are going to fail.”

“Well, that’s good to know. Any other advice?”

“Just remember where your strength should come from. Remember what you’ve been given. The amazing gift you’ve been given.”

I’m not following. As usual. “You mean the ability to see you—to see the other side?”

“The gift of God’s own Son. The gift of eternal life. The gift you received when you prayed on that train.”

Part of me feels like that was just a rehearsal, that maybe I need to be in some church setting talking to some preacher in order to make it right.

“You can’t make it right,” Jocelyn says. “He made it right a long time ago. Remember that, if and when you fall down. Remember when you need to get back up for the others. Remember.”

I can’t take it anymore.

I just want to hug her.

I reach out to touch her, but of course I don’t touch a thing.

I’m still standing there in the center of the rocks but suddenly also in the cloud. The fog has swooped back around and smothered me.

I know she’s gone when I hear Mounds calling out my name.

“I’m here,” I say.

“Where’ve you been?” he asks.

“Sorry, I just—I wandered off for a while.”

Yeah, that’s it.

Wandering off.

“Come on over here,” Mounds tells me. “I picked up some really weird activity.”

Yeah, I know.

I’ve had that same thing happen from the moment I stepped foot in Solitary.

And it’s going to continue until I finally leave. Like Poe did.

Or like Jocelyn.

58. The Conversation

When I get home that afternoon, red eyes await me.

But instead of belonging to the undead or demon dogs, they belong to my mom and Uncle Robert.

Seeing him just sitting on the couch is strange. But seeing him in the same room as Mom is even stranger.

It seems as if I’ve interrupted something serious and heavy.

Mom looks like she’s been crying. Uncle Robert—I can’t tell if he’s been crying or drinking.

“Hi Chris,” he says.

My mom comes over and gives me a hug.

“What’s going on?”

“Everything’s fine,” she tells me.

I look at Robert.

“It’s all good. Your mother and I were just having a talk.”

“About what?”

“About life,” Robert answers.

“Did something happen?”

Did someone die?

“No. Everything’s fine.”

Uncle Robert stands and grabs his coat.

“You don’t need to leave,” Mom tells him.

“I should go.”

He looks at her, gives me a nod, and leaves.

“What was that all about?” I ask.

“Family stuff. Sibling stuff.”

“Did you know—had you seen him?”

“He visited me a couple of times in rehab. The second time I went in.”

“Seriously?”

Mom nods. I wonder if Uncle Robert did that in secret, or if Pastor Marsh and Staunch knew about it.

“What sort of sibling stuff?”

“The past,” Mom says.

“That’s pretty vague.”

“Chris, please.”

Here we go again. It’s the same old thing.

Aren’t we past the stage of not revealing stuff?

“It was a hard conversation to have,” Mom continues, brushing back her faded blonde hair. “About our parents.”

“Uh, okay.”

“About how they died,” she says.

I nod.

I’m curious, but I’m also not mean. At least, not now. Not with Mom. Not with everything’s she’s had to deal with.

“Robert just doesn’t want to hear certain things,” Mom adds. “But sometimes you have to get things out in the open in order to move on. And this—I believe—is one of those things.”

Mom doesn’t say anything more about the conversation. It makes me think of Jocelyn again, how she told me her parents were killed.

She believed they were murdered.

I wonder if my mom has started thinking the same way. Maybe Uncle Robert doesn’t want to accept that or hear that.

But he doesn’t leave. Mom is back, and yet he doesn’t leave.

It makes me wonder if he’s truly given up, or if there’s still some tiny bit of hope deep down inside of him.

Glancing at Mom, and the way she seems to be more
there
these days, gives me more hope as well.

59. Surprises

It’s a nice dream, and I manage to let myself fall into it with Kelsey at my side.

This normal, average suburban house. Let’s say it’s far away from Solitary and these surrounding mountains.

This soft and comfortable couch that snugly fits two, especially when they’re curled around each other.

The quiet February night, with the chill kept outside and the warmth bundled up underneath a blanket in the family room.

The glow of the television and the hum of the program.

The privacy and the tranquility and the fantasy that finds the two of us next to each other, holding one another, then kissing each other.

I’m wide awake in Kelsey’s family room, but I’m in a dream. I’m in another life, and I’m finally not running for mine. I’m warm and relaxed, and all I can think about is this wonderful girl next to me.

The longer time ticks by and the later it gets, the more I lose myself.

Until Kelsey seems to wake me up.

“You better go,” she says in her gentle, sweet voice.

I haven’t overstepped any boundaries. But I’ve made it clear that I don’t want to go, that I don’t want to move.

“Okay,” I say, then kiss her again.

“I don’t like you driving this late at night.”

“Soon I’ll have my license.”

“I still don’t like you riding that motorcycle without a helmet.”

“I know. I’ll get one. I promise.”

I kiss her again.

The dream is being here by ourselves, owning this house and this life. Worrying about the kids upstairs and the bills to pay instead of the demons at the front door.

I’d like to say I can imagine it, but I really can’t.

I can’t imagine Kelsey being there, or anybody really. I can’t imagine anyone having the patience and the courage to stand by me and actually marry me with all my wonderful problems circling in around me.

Better not tell her that.

I know. I’m seventeen and a senior and shouldn’t be thinking stuff like that. But I’m no ordinary seventeen-year-old senior, so give me a break.

Someone give me a break.

“Chris?”

“Yeah?”

We’re so close, talking so soft.

I don’t want this moment to end.

“I meant to ask you—did you put that thing in my room?”

I brush a strand of hair back from her face. “What thing?”

It’s hard to pay attention.

“It’s like some flat stone. The size of my hand.”

Suddenly cold water douses me. The blanket is torn off us and lights blare in our eyes and sirens sound and my heart isn’t just racing but exploding.

No.

Of course that doesn’t really happen except in my stiffening body. I stare at her.

“When’d you find it?”

“Earlier this evening after we had pizza. Did you put it there?”

No I didn’t the boogeyman did and do you know what this means now do you?

“Yeah,” I lie.

“Where’d you find something so smooth?”

“Just up the road by the creek. Thought you might like it.”

I’m trying not to overreact or overthink or overdo anything. I smile and kiss her again, but it’s different. Kelsey can tell.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just—probably should go.”

I gently move my arm from underneath her and then sit up. She’s so cute in her pink sweatshirt and matching sweatpants. I had told her to get more comfortable, and she said she didn’t want to be a bum around me. But seeing her like that made me find her even more adorable, if that was possible.

But that mood has evaporated. As warm and cozy as it might be in here, it’s still cold and dark outside.

I don’t want to say anything more about that rock.

At least not to Kelsey.

When we get to the door, I give her a long hug that brings about another long kiss.

This time, I’m the one who moves away.

“I had a great time tonight.”

“Chris,” Kelsey says, that dreamy look in her eyes that says it all, “I just want you to know—”

But I move my hand and softly put it on her lips before she can complete her sentence.

“Don’t.”

“What?” Kelsey asks.

“Not now. Not tonight.”

I don’t want something big happening when something awful has already occurred.

“But what—”

“I want you to save those thoughts.”

“For when?”

“For—for another night. For a special night.”

“Tonight was special.”

I nod. “I’ve got something planned.”

“Like what?”

“It’s a surprise.”

She smiles.

I kiss her on the cheek and then tell her good night.

Outside in the cold, as I start the motorcycle and look around to see if anybody is nearby, I think about that rock.

Surprises around here are usually terrifying.

But I’m going to break that trend.

And I’m going to make sure that the people who gave Kelsey that rock know that it doesn’t belong to her.

It belongs to me. And if they want to do anything with it, they’ll have to do it through me.