Chapter 12: Haunted

Lightning flashed close, followed by a deafening roll of marching thunder. The downpour intensified, but Emily didn't care. She was out of the trees at last. She crossed the edge of the path, through the short stretch of trampled grass then stumbled over the concrete curb to the jet asphalt, almost colliding with Harris and Jester.

"Emily!" Harris said while the beagle snuffled at her shoes, then sat down in a puddle and scratched at one ear. "You're soaked, girl."

His raincoat was shiny yellow. With a hood. Even so, she could see the sprinkles of misted water on his glasses.

"It's raining." Genius. Pure genius. She almost apologized.

He laughed, a warm chuckle that made the front of his jacket jiggle in time with his belly. "The girl is observant after all."

Felt like an attack even though it wasn't, but she took it like one because she was in that kind of mood. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He tugged against Jester's leash, eyes leaving her a moment to watch the beagle dig around in a pile of brown grass and leaves. "Only that I wonder if you saw more than you think you did?"

"Well, I didn't." She was ready to bolt, tired of talking to him. Until.

"The mind can play tricks. Hide things we need to remember. Details, sounds. Smells. That can help."

He had her curiosity stirred up and that took a lot. But if it would help...

"How do I remember?" If he said hypnosis or meditation or some other hinky thing she was going to run.

"Simple." One of his large, thick-fingered hands lifted, pushed back his glasses. Stroked over his mustache. "Go back to the place it happened. And pay attention."

Like it was that easy. Still.

Jester pulled at his leash. Let out a horrible, heart-wrenching howl. Harris smiled at her, relented, moved past.

"Guess I've been told. Stay out of trouble, girl. Don't want to have to defend you for real."

She watched him go, his very yellow self retreating down the sidewalk, led by the fat little dog.

It gave her something to think about at least. Something which had nothing to do with the girl's haunting her. She splashed through a deep puddle in her last trudge for home, thoroughly soaked sneakers making dark impressions on the lawn, quickly repainted by the rain.

She knew her parents were home, felt them huddled together somewhere, miserable, but Emily wanted no part of it. Her squelching feet carried her to her room as quickly as possible where she locked the bedroom door behind her.

Not a sound rose from below. They didn't even try. Which was for the best, really. She was in no shape to talk to them anyway, barely in any shape to deal with herself.

Her wet clothes ended up in a pile at the foot of her bed. A used towel did a passable job on her wet hair as the growing storm rumbled outside her window. Emily slunk under the covers, pulling the comforter over her head, a childish act of safety.

As much as she wished she could convince herself the encounter in the woods was a dream, Emily faced the truth. She had seen the girls after all. Maybe it proved she was crazy. Maybe they really were haunting her, punishing her for not going with them.

Or maybe they were trying to tell her something.

She peeked out. Nothing. Emily slid back under the covers, breathing open-mouthed in the darkness, body heat warming the air. If they would just talk to her... they wouldn't creep her out so much.

Someone sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed deeply before touching the blanket on her shoulder.

Emily slowly pulled the covers back, dread grappling curiosity and need. The sheets cleared her eyes and she could see a form there next to her. Deep breath in.

Emily rolled over. Met Tara's gaze. Exhaled. Somehow, she wasn't so scary anymore.

"Hi, T." Emily pulled herself up to sitting, gathering the blankets close. The air in the room dropped a few degrees as the storm intensified. A snap of light and a growl from the sky made her jump. "I'm sorry I was so freaked earlier. You guys scared the crap out of me." Still did.

Tara remained motionless. That was the worst of it. If she would just talk, move, smile, something, anything, damn it!

"Are you here... for me?" She wished her voice didn't tremble. She was ready, really. It wouldn't do for her friends to think she wasn't.

Tara pointed to the window. The storm? Outside?

"What?" She found herself leaning forward. "Tell me, T. Whatever it is, I'll do it."

The next flash of lighting was so blindingly close it was a heartbeat before she realized Tara had vanished.

Emily climbed out of bed and went to the window, feet dragging, tentative steps taking her there. She looked out and down into the yard. The girls stood in the rain, waiting for her. First Tara, then Madison, lifted their arms toward her, summoning her.

It would be easy to lift the sash, push out the screen, swing her legs over the sill. She was right over the deck and the lawn furniture. If she planned it right, the neatly folded umbrella would do the job. It could all be over that quickly. No more pain, guilt, fear. No more forcing herself to function like everyone wanted her to.

No more.

Except Cole deserved better from her. She let him go and now she was responsible. Emily couldn't leave. Not yet.

"I'm sorry," she whispered against the glass, her breath leaving a soft circle of moisture behind. "Just leave me alone."

Emily pulled the curtains tight and climbed back into bed. They may have tried to reach her again, but she didn't know it.

***

She heard the whistle. The squealing metal. The impact. Their screams.

She ran for them, to save them. She was going so fast, trying so hard, she almost missed it. A hand, pale as the moonlight, just visible past the shadow of the wrecked train. She fell to her knees, cried out as her injury finally made itself known, but clutched at the hand, pulled it toward the light. The rest of the arm emerged, chest, beloved face.

Sam looked up at her. Dead eyes bled to black. Her head turned away from Emily. Her hand slid free, lifted. Pointed.

Emily spun. Cole stood in the shining moonlight, his blonde hair glowing. A shadow stood behind him. Before she could move or scream or save him, the darkness descended and dragged him away.

Emily screamed his name over and over, trying to get to him, but someone held her back. When she turned to see, three sets of dead hands fastened on her and pulled her down, down under the earth, the crumbling dirt muffling his name.

***

Emily jerked awake with her voice calling for Cole still ringing in her ears. Her comforter was an untidy pile at the foot of the bed, pajamas stuck to her by iced sweat.

Someone banged on her door. She scrambled to unlock and wrenched it wide. Her mother stood on the other side, face sheathed in fresh tears. Before Emily could do anything, Pamela's arms wrapped around her, pulled her close, but not for her own comfort. For Emily's.

She cried on her mother's shoulder for a long time, expelling the old grief along with the new. Gentle hands smoothed her hair, rocked her forward and back. By the time Emily was empty, she felt better for the first time in four months. So much she even smiled at her mother. It was a small and quavering thing. Still, Pamela's face softened further.

"Are you all right?"

Such a simple question. Was she? Of course not. But she was closer than ever.

"Nightmare." She wasn't prepared to go into it too deep with someone else. Especially not her mother. Not yet, anyway.

"I heard you screaming." Pamela's eyes shone with new tears.

Ah. The source of the compassion. "Sorry." Her shoulders tightened. Pamela wasn't there for her after all. She just wanted to share in her wallowing, to add Emily to her circle of misery.

Her mother surprised her. "I can't imagine how hard it's been for you." She didn't move closer or make any attempt at physical contact. She just stood there and talked. Emily let the words wash over her. "And I know I haven't exactly made it easier. Neither of us have. We thought... after a month or so you'd be better. Emily, we never meant to let it go on this long."

So it wasn't about Cole. Her shock raised her head, brought her eyes to meet her mother's. They were full of compassion and about as much guilt as Emily carried around.

"How did so much time go by? How did I let you get here all by yourself? Why did I never talk to you?" The tears welled, spilled, tracked down Pamela's cheeks. Her hands lifted, wrung together. "Why did I make you do this yourself?"

"There wasn't anything you could do." Her mother had to understand that. It was Emily's, hers to deal with. Her burden to carry every moment until it crushed her.

"Yes, there was." Pamela brushed at the moisture on her face with rough swipes of her fingers. "I know better. This kind of hurt doesn't just go away."

They agreed on that much. It hung in the air between them.

"You were right." It blurted out before Emily could stop it. "It is my fault. The girls. Cole. All of it. So, it's okay." She was crying again herself, but didn't bother to try to stop it. "I'm sorry, Mom."

Pamela's face crumpled, shoulders curving forward as her body shook. She sobbed a silent breath then pulled Emily close again. This time the daughter held the mother.

"It's not!" Pamela pushed back, but held on, hands gripping Emily's shoulders. "Don't ever say that or think that." She let out a great breath and her trembling eased. "It was an accident, Em. A stupid damned accident. If anyone is to blame, it's that truck driver."

Emily remembered. He was horribly shaken but unharmed and walked away while the girls bled out. Her stomach clenched in fury then eased. It didn't matter anymore.

"Em." Pamela shook her a little. "Did you hear me?"

"Yes." Her logical mind understood. Of course. Stupid bad luck. And yet.

She should have been on that train.

"There was nothing you could have done," Pamela said while in Emily's memory Sam smiled at her in the dark and the moonlight before leaping out of reach. "Nothing."

"Cole." She let that out for punishment. No releasing the guilt so easily.

Pamela shuddered, her hands spasming tighter. "Em-"

"I was supposed to watch him." She stared in her mother's eyes. Threw out the truth with the both of them sober and aware, tore at the wound until it gushed inside her. "It's my fault, Mom. My fault. Cole would be safe if I hadn't been here to take him to the park."

She hadn't meant to say it that way. Emily saw the understanding come to life in her mother's face, felt the grip on her shoulders weaken.

"Promise me." Pamela's whisper cut her to her soul. "Promise me you won't, Em. I need you. Please..." She was going to start crying again. And the thing hovered, the truth of intention growing, smothering them both.

"I won't." She was telling the truth. For the time being. It was enough for Pamela.

As she wrapped Emily in one last embrace, three ghosts appeared at the end of the hall. Emily considered for a moment asking her mother if she saw them too, but chose instead to keep it to herself. The shiny bubble they just created was too fragile to survive a fresh blow.

Half way through the hug, the girls disappeared.

***