Reunion (A Psychological Suspense with Murder, Mystery and the Paranormal) (20 page)

“Now listen here, you little shit! I want you to tell me what you’re gonna tell your mama! You gonna tell her what I done to you? Huh?” The abuser grabbed a handful of David’s hair and pulled until David looked into his eyes. “Come on now. What are you gonna say?”

David’s tear-filled eyes rolled back into his head. He just whimpered, saying nothing.

“Wrong answer!” screamed the sadistic pedophile. He banged David’s head on the floor and slapped his face.

“Try again!”

David’s hands were shaking and his lungs were wheezing. He forced out a mumbled. “I…don’t—” He took a deep breath, desperate to inhale more oxygen.

“Wrong answer!” Slap! Kick! The beating continued until David finally gasped out the words his tormentor wanted to hear.

Nick’s nightmare continued moving through time and space. His mind followed a dim light until he zeroed in on another scene of David Ray’s youth. As the light faded, Nick witnessed David, at about six years old, and a young girl of about the same age, lying on a workbench in a dark basement. They were both naked, tied down with nylon wire and barely conscious. Their torturers had given them ketamine, a date-rape drug. The blood-soaked girl stopped breathing. David’s eyes rolled to the side and looked at her and then his adoptive father, John Ray. He could see terrifying shapes gathering around him in the darkness.

They chanted frightening prayers. The lights were off, but the basement glowed from a circle of candlelight and dancing shadows. The participants wore dark, hooded capes, calling to their god in a pounding rhythm. As Nick watched in his dream, their words hammered on his brain like a drum, beating over and over and over; bam, bam, bam, bam, bam, bam… “Interimo caedo virgo, interimo caedo virgo, kill the virgin, kill the virgin, kill the virgin!”

Young David faded into unconsciousness and the girl passed away as the ritual continued.

Nick witnessed the series of beatings, teasing and abuse that David had endured. His eyes raced back and forth as his tortured mind absorbed the mistreatment of seventeen years of David’s life. Somehow, David Ray’s spirit conveyed a lifetime of abuses, while Nick lay there absorbing the mental images.

The dreaming continued, bringing Nick back to the cafeteria when David shot Alexis Fairchild and Sydney Frey. Their bodies dropped to the floor, one on top of another. Nick felt the cold metal barrel of a shotgun press against his jaw as if he were attempting suicide.

The gun released a flurry of buckshot, sending a sharp pain down his neck. He felt blood drain out of his flesh like a broken water main, gushing, gushing, gushing. With his life pouring out of his body, Nick felt the wind blow across his face as he fell to the ground. His limbs and skull crashed to the cold floor with a thud. He felt every second of David’s last moments. He felt the pain and agony of David’s life and the hate that had built up inside of him.

When David fell to the ground, Nick felt the sharp pain and tasted the metallic flavor of blood in his mouth. The vital fluid oozed out of his open wounds, creating a nauseous feeling in his gut.

In that moment, something pulled Nick away from David’s body. Nick looked into David’s eyes. He felt paralyzed, watching as David took his final breath.

David’s eyes stared blankly into eternity as his life ebbed away. His eyes grew dimmer, and his heart pumped more and more slowly. David’s brain was dying from lack of oxygen, killing billions of brain cells by the second. His breathing echoed in Nick’s ears, like a fading twister.

When David’s eyes closed, Nick was released from the vision. His breathing slowed and a light entered his consciousness in time with the beat of his heart, freeing him from the blackness of death. Nick rose above David’s body. His mental vision presented a larger view of the destruction that surrounded him. He saw David lying in a pool of blood. He saw the two cheerleaders lying in a heap of tangled flesh. He saw Randy’s body huddled in his own lap. The carnage overwhelmed his thoughts.

Nick watched the scene like a spirit entering eternity. He heard the whimpers and cries for help. He saw students hiding under tables and bodies lying in blood. The deafening screams faded as Nick’s sleeping spirit rose from the grim scene. He hovered away from the pain and misery of not only his life, but David’s life as well. Then as he escaped the dreadful experience, Nick felt a pull. It felt like a kite string yanking him back into reality. He felt a tug on his throat that reeled him backward, faster and faster, returning him to the reality of the cold, waxy floor. In an instant, his spirit slammed back into his body, leaving him face to face with David one last time.

David gasped for air and his eyes flew wide open, sucking in all the oxygen his lungs could take. His mouth opened to its fullest capacity and he screamed, “I’M STILL ALIVE!” Over and over Nick heard David cry at the top of his lungs. “I’M STILL ALIVE! I’M STILL ALIVE! I’M STILL ALIVE! KILL ME! KILL ME! KILL ME!

Nick startled to consciousness in the jail cell. He sat up and screamed, panting like a dehydrated animal. His clothes were soaking wet and his skin freezing cold. He then realized that other inmates had woken and were surrounding him. They stood still, just staring down at him. He lay back on the cot, trying to reorient himself.

From across the aisle, someone cried out in a bloodcurdling voice. “Aaaaaaaa!”

Two cells down the hallway, another made gobbling noises.

“Boooooo,” whispered another inmate who stood over Nick.

Nick rolled off the bed, panicked by their close proximity. He yelled, “Shut up! Shut up! It was just a dream!”

Sheriff Richards entered the cell block in response to the ruckus.

“Hey! Hey! Hey! Keep it down in there!” He beat his nightstick across the cell gates as he walked along the aisle. When he came to Nick’s cell, he put his hands on the bars and asked, “You okay, Nick?”

“I’ve been better!”

“What’s going on?”

Nick shoved one of the prisoners out of his way.

“I just had a nightmare. But you shouldn’t waste your time worrying about me. You’ve got bigger problems on your hands.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m talking about the school, Larry.”

“What about the school?”

“Oh, I think you know.” Nick brushed his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair.

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

Nick’s brow furrowed and his lips tightened with frustration. He knew Larry was lying. He pushed his way to the gate.

“I’m talking about David Ray! Come on, Larry. I know about the kid, and I know about David too.”

One of the derelicts across the isle shouted, “David Ray? I remember him.” He laughed. “He was a good boy, a real good boy. Hehehehe.”

Larry looked toward the chuckling deviant and said, “Shut up!” and turned back.

“It’s politics, Nick. You know that.”

“I—don’t—care!” shouted Nick. “Just keep everyone away from the school so no one else gets killed!”

Larry sighed. He called for another officer and then unlocked the gate.

“Come on. We should talk.” Larry let Nick out of the cell, guarded by the second officer, relocked it and escorted him to an interrogation room near his office.

A
fter a day of resting, relaxing and talking together, Maria and the group were back at the school, cutting down overgrown brush and cleaning up trash. Julie and her team resumed recording to add video clips and sound bites to the story. Meanwhile, a team of maintenance workers made aesthetic and mechanical repairs.

Inside the mechanical room, high-pressure steam seeped out of some of the pipes, creating a humid mist. It was an open area approximately thirty feet by thirty feet, with an overhead hoist, electric panels, an industrial boiler and large pipes lining the walls.

Paul Giles, the maintenance foreman, led the repair work. He was a towering figure who had spent decades maintaining the school system’s facilities. He hadn’t been on this campus since they shut it down and was excited about the prospect of reopening the school. He stood on the ground, while his subordinate, Mike Neal, worked on a ladder, replacing one of the steam fittings. Mike had only been on staff for a few years, but he was one of Paul’s best workers. He was in his early thirties and had a brown ponytail—a work-by-day, party-by-night type of guy. He had headphones hanging from his neck, so he could listen to his music when he worked alone.

“You know, Mike, this building isn’t in that bad a shape. If we replaced some pipes and light fixtures, it could be up and running in no time!”

Mike replied with a wad of chewing tobacco in his mouth, “That may be, but I’ve heard some rumors going ‘round ‘bout this place. From what I hear, it’s not a very hospitable environment to the living, if you know what I mean.” He nodded his head and reached out his hand. “Hand me that wrench, would ya?”

“Sure. Here you go.” Paul handed Mike a pipe wrench. “But what are you talking about, Mike? What rumors?”

“Thanks.” Mike grabbed the tool. “Dude, I’m talking about the ghost of David Ray! They say he’s been hauntin’ the place.”

“And you believe ‘em?” Paul cocked his head and grinned. “Come on, Mike!”

“Hey, I’m not altogether superstitious, but I do think anything’s possible.”

“Hmm. We’ve been here for two hours now, and I haven’t seen anything. “ Paul shook his head and laughed, brushing off the possibility of paranormal activity.

“Well, I hope you’re right.”

Paul watched Mike scratch an itch on his face, adding more grime to his already dirty complexion, and wondered if his employee had been partying too much.

“So, what are the other guys workin’ on?” asked Mike.

“I think they’re waxing the cafeteria floor and installing some new ceiling tiles. You know, a basic clean-up job.” Paul grabbed the clipboard which had his “To Do” list on it and asked, “You gonna be all right for a while?”

“Sure.” Mike nodded and grinned, his lower lip bulging from the tobacco. “I’ll be working on this for a little bit longer and then I’ll work on the breaker over there.” He nodded toward the boiler.

“Okay then. I’ll go check on the boys and see if they need anything.”

“Sounds good. Thanks for your help, boss!” Mike put his headphones on and continued working. Paul walked out of the boiler room and headed for the cafeteria.

• • •

Mike started singing along with his MP3 player to make the time go by faster.

“In the night—time for fright—fight or flight—gonna get it right—or you’re gonna lose sight. Go to bed—sleepy head—don’t get dead—don’t see red—that’s what the sandman he said. Sleep with both eyes open—clutching your blanket tight…”

While he sang, he felt a slight breeze blow by his neck. He dismissed it, assuming it was just a draft. He continued singing while he tightened the fitting.

“Go to work—go to play—just don’t go dead today—gotta hear what I say. I wanna fly—wanna try—got no time to die—please just don’t ask me why. Sleep with both eyes open—screaming into the night… “

Again, Mike felt something whip past his neck. That time he suspected one of the guys.

“Hey! What the hell?” He took off his headphones, put his wrench down on the top step of the ladder and turned around to have a look. He didn’t see anything, but it felt as if someone was watching him. He slowly turned his head and peered into the dark shadows to see if Paul or one of the other guys were hiding. Still, he saw nothing. Then just before he turned back to continue working he felt a rush of air blow by his face and heard voices whispering as they rushed past him.

“Set him free, set him free, set him free, set him free, set him free, set him free, set him free…”

Chills rippled down his spine and caused him to lose his balance. To keep from falling, he reached toward the ladder but missed and grabbed a hot steam line. He shrieked in pain, letting go of the pipe, instinctively grabbing at his injured hand. As a result, he fell from the ladder and tumbled awkwardly down, catching his leg between the rungs and hearing a crack as it broke. Screaming in pain, he landed on his tailbone, and slammed his hand on the bottom step of the ladder. The vibration caused the pipe wrench to shift and fall. When Mike heard the wrench clanging down the rungs, he looked up, but could not stop the inevitable. It landed with high velocity right in the center of his forehead, splitting his skull. He was knocked out cold and lay there alone and bleeding badly.

• • •

Instead of cutting back the overgrowth, Tanner was practicing his golf swing with a sickle. He set his feet, shook his body into position, bent his knees, clasped his fingers together and swung his arms backward. He called out “Fore!” as he swung forward with his head down.

Kate watched Tanner as she walked with Bryan. They carried plastic trash bags and pickup sticks to skewer the debris. Kate stabbed an aluminum can, stuck it in her bag and turned toward Bryan and said, “I know we agreed to have the reunion here, but something doesn’t feel right. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s me.”

Bryan stood still and silent.

“Bryan, are you okay?” Kate touched his shoulder.

“What? Oh, yeah. I’m fine. I was just thinking about the school. I just wish—”

“Wish what? You can tell me.”

Bryan chuckled to himself and turned away. “Yeah right. I wish I could.”

Kate pressed further. “Really, Bryan. What is it?”

Bryan turned back and snapped at Kate. “I told you. I can’t say anything!” His eyes were blank. Kate thought he looked like he was in a trance.

“You don’t understand, Kate. There are things in my line of work that I see…that I know about, but I’m not allowed to tell anyone, not even you. Trust me, I wish I didn’t know about any of this, but I do!”

Kate looked at Bryan. He seemed more distressed than she’d ever seen him. She looked at the school and turned back toward him. He didn’t move and his eyes looked cold and detached as he watched Julie Divulge walking toward them.

“Is it the school?” Kate asked.

He turned away to hide his reaction.