End of the Road (Ghost Stories Trilogy #1) Page 36
Seconds later she breezed into the room with Amelia right behind her. Amelia waved at me and stopped to examine the machines I was still hooked up to. Adele smiled serenely at me and said to Eric, “I told you she’d be fine.”
Eric shrugged his shoulders and resumed his perch at my bedside.
“I don’t think I’ll be up to helping Bob crossover. I can’t take the risk.”
“He doesn’t really want to crossover, you know. He’s happy being earthbound.”
“He is?”
“Some spirits are,” she said with a shrug.
True, Bob had been the least concerned about me finding out about his family and he wasn’t jumping in line with the others to cross over.
“There is a ghost on the fourth floor though that does want to leave. He’s been bothering Milly and I ever since we got here.”
I shook my head. There was no way – I almost lost the baby this last time. At the thought of that, I instinctively covered my belly with my hands. Adele watched me and sighed.
“You need normal right now, don’t you?”
“I could do without seeing dead people for a while.”
“You can’t get rid of your sight, but I can give you some tips on how to dial it down. Milly and I accidentally discovered how after an incident where we were expelled from high school, but we’ll save that story for another day.” Amelia snickered in the background.
***
While I didn’t want “the sight”, whatever the reason was for suddenly acquiring it profoundly changed my life and for that, I will be forever grateful. I wanted to focus on being a mother and building my life with Eric.
Thank God for Adele. She worked with me throughout the pregnancy and showed me how to put up mental blocks. It got to the point where whenever I drove past the clearing on I-17, I couldn’t see Bob. If there were ghosts around me in other places, I never knew.
Epilogue
BOB
In the end, I decided I wasn’t done and opted to stay. What happened if another spirit got stuck in the desert? I’d be the greeter, the new Larry. Besides, I liked playing in traffic.
For the first time in a long time, I was truly alone. Whatever Elena and Adele did had even made the two random ghosties crossover too. While it was peaceful at first, I did start to get lonely so I was pretty excited when less than a month after the others crossed over there was a four car pile-up. A tractor trailer jack knifed at the curve right past the clearing where I had been unceremoniously dumped.
Three cars collided, one right after the other. The first one to crash exploded into a spectacular fireball, which was quite the sight. There were two fatalities from that car, but the spirits crossed right away. The middle vehicle had air bags, even on the doors, and these saved all four passengers. The last car to collide was a convertible and it flipped over, decapitating the driver. I was standing on the side of the road when a head rolled to a stop at my feet. Despite the blood and exposed tendons, I could tell the owner had been a good looking woman and a redhead to boot.
God, I do love those reds.
Anyway, this spirit stayed behind. I noticed her, staring down at her body that was pinned beneath the convertible. I watched her desperate attempts to free herself then as she stood helplessly by, still unaware of my presence, when the emergency crews arrived.
Once we were finally alone, I went through the motions of smoothing my non-existent hair back from my balding scalp and made my move.
THE END
Read on for a sneak peak at Havoc – Book Two of the Ghost Stories Trilogy!
Available Fall 2016
HAVOC
Prologue
I hover above, watching my masterpiece unfold. Flashing lights from dozens of emergency vehicles cover the town square in a frenetic blue and red pattern. News reporters crowd around the front of the building, lying in wait for a glimpse of the macabre. Stretcher after stretcher is wheeled out, full black body bags their cargo. The massacre occurred as school was letting out for the day. Now it’s close to midnight and the mess is far from being cleaned up.
Grief, anger, guilt and blame build in the air and swirl around me. I breathe it all in.
As the night wears on, the crowd dissipates. I grow tired of watching. My work here is done. Another town on the horizon is begging for disaster.
In my free form I’m a mist. If people catch a glimpse of me it’s fleeting; a shadow or dark cloud passing over the sun. I can still move objects in my natural state, cause goose bumps to ripple across skin, but once I find a body to manipulate, that’s when the fun really begins.
Humans make perfect puppets. They’re so malleable, emotional and weak.
My last target had been ideal - a sophomore boy recently dumped by his girlfriend. I sensed his confusion and rage before I even saw him. The inner turmoil led me right to the boy. It was so easy for me to slip inside and take control. He didn’t resist because deep down, I think he wanted to project his pain on others. In a rural town where every other household has a gun, his home wasn’t any different. Just like the other towns, this one will be left wondering how such a terrible tragedy could have happened. Why didn’t peers, teachers or the boy’s parents pay attention to the warning signs? I laugh because the blame will be placed elsewhere.
This had been too easy and my enjoyment is wearing off far too quickly. I crave a challenge.
***
Adele knew she wasn’t alone in her bedroom before opening her eyes. Whimpers, screams and moans of people in distress crowded her ears. She pressed her head into the pillow, hoping for a few more minutes of sleep, but knew that wasn’t going to happen. Just like before, the noises grew louder, demanding her attention.
She opened her eyes.
Even though her bedroom was dark she could see them. Each person was wrapped in an ethereal glow. Every available space in the room was occupied and every face was directed at her. Some of the faces were streaked with blood, others were completely unrecognizable. Identifiable features such as cheekbones, noses and eyes were obliterated by whatever heinous act had ended their lives.
This was the third night in less than two months where Adele had awoken to a scene like this and she recognized the dark energy pulsating around her. The energy had an odor too, not sulfur, more like burnt tires. It was cloying, heavy and pressed against her chest. She sat up, pulling the patchwork quilt with her. Chills shook her body, but not because she was cold.
She was terrified.
Acknowledgments
First, here’s a little background on End of the Road. This is my first book that isn’t set entirely in present day as it covers every decade from the 1930s up to 2014. This required a lot more research and fact checking than usual. For example, Frank has a six-pack of canned beer. I didn’t know if beer was sold in cans back then. Sure enough, it was and has been available in cans since 1935. When Georgia auditions at a strip club in Las Vegas in 1968, I had to research the history of the stripper pole. Turns out the first documented pole dance at a strip joint took place in Oregon in 1968; artfully performed by Belle Jangles.
Early construction in Phoenix had to be considered too. Back in the 1930’s, Phoenix wasn’t the thriving metropolis it is today. Air conditioning was in its infancy and for many, the hot temperatures made living in Phoenix intolerable. With tuberculosis still plaguing the human population, an arid climate was considered beneficial to those with respiratory ailments. Even though it was cost prohibitive, especially during the Depression, hotels and movie theaters had air conditioning installed. I figured at least City Hall in downtown Phoenix would have it. While this might not be historically accurate, I stretched it a bit. This is fiction after all.
In the first draft, when the police show up at Juanita’s door to tell her that her husband is dead, I originally had one of the officers ask if there was someone they could call, but Juanita says her phone is disconnected. In rural Mexico where Juanita lived, phone lines weren’t readily available. Only in
bigger cities and even then the cities weren’t connected. So, I fixed that. Also, the town where Juanita lived wouldn’t have had enough police support for two officers to show up. So, I fixed that too.
When it came to Bob’s experience in Vietnam, I needed to make sure I was on the right track. I was fortunate enough to be able to talk to one of my mom’s colleagues and friends, Peggy Akers, who served in Vietnam as a nurse for the U.S. Army. Peggy, thank you for talking with me about your experiences as I know it wasn’t an easy topic to discuss. Most importantly, thank you for your service.
Salsa, you are my source for all things YCSO. I’m so glad you usually work nights so you’re able to answer my random texts at all hours. Ha ha! You rock!
When it comes to writing, I miss out on a lot of family time and while it’s hard, I appreciate that my family understands. They know this is a passion and support me, my husband especially. He gives me the space I need and the occasional kick in the ass when I’m procrastinating on Facebook. Thanks, baby!
Marlee, Nicole, Shannon, and Julia, you have been fans of this book for what seems like forever, some of you since End of the Road began as a short story about Bob. Your words of encouragement, enthusiasm and feedback helped fuel this journey. Many, many thanks.
About the Author
E.J. Fechenda has lived in Philadelphia, Phoenix and now calls Portland, Maine home where she is a wife, stepmom, and pet parent all while working full time.
She has a degree in Journalism from Temple University and her short stories have been published in Suspense Magazine, the 2010 and 2011 Aspiring Writers Anthologies, and in the Indies Unlimited 2012 Flash Fiction Anthology. E.J. is the author of The New Mafia Trilogy and co-founder of the fiction reading series, “Lit: Readings & Libations”, which is held semi-quarterly in Portland.
E.J. can be found on the internet here:
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