Part 8 (1/2)

Again, the girl didn't acknowledge Jill's presence. With great resolve, Jill approached the girl. It was only when she reached out to the girl that she realized something was very much amiss. As the moon emerged from behind thick clouds, the girl grew translucent, exposing the silhouettes of the gravestones behind her through her willowy frame.

The girl's shoulders were no longer wracked with sobs. Turning toward Jill, the girl raised her head and her wispy hair cascaded out of her face. The young girl's delicate features were marred by the ruin that was the right side of her face. The soft skin fell apart beneath her right eye, drooping in swaths of torn flesh and exposed sinew. Beneath the shredded cheek, her clenched teeth were exposed. Foul fluid oozed from the wound, running over the shattered jaw and broken teeth. The wound stretched beneath the hair that fell over her ear.

Jill threw a hand to her mouth to suppress a scream.

As their eyes met, the girl opened her mouth to speak. No words escaped, but her teeth gnashed together through the spectral wound on her face.

Unable to contain her horror, Jill screamed and ran. She wasn't sure if there was another exit to the graveyard but she was beyond caring. She ran as quickly as possible away from the abomination blocking the main gate.

Jill leapt over a fallen tombstone and hurried toward the rear of the cemetery. Though the cemetery wasn't large, she found herself completely disoriented in her panic. Her chest heaved and each breath felt like a knife being pulled across her lungs. Jill ran until she reached the rear fence of the cemetery and banged the palms of her hands against the rusted iron spokes.

”Help me!” she screamed into the night. Light bled through the fence from the nearby street lamps and a small number of apartments across the street were still illuminated-but no one responded to her cries.

”Jake! Brent! Whitney!” she cried, though she doubted her friends were still nearby.

”Please,” she moaned. ”Please, someone help me!”

Beside her, a hand emerged from a grave. The hand dug into the dirt as it pulled upward, exposing a soiled head as it emerged from the earth. The corpse's eyes glowed with a similar s.h.i.+mmering light that Jill had seen in the little girl's face. The corpse struggled to free itself, hanging halfway out of the hole from which it had been crawling free. The man's decaying head turned toward Jill. Between its eyes, she could see an old bullet wound. As she watched, ethereal blood oozed from the wound and ran into the ghost's eyes.

Screaming again, Jill rushed past the corpse and sprinted toward the front of the cemetery. From the corner of her eyes, she could see other ghosts emerging from their graves. An elderly woman, dangerously thin, tugged at her rotting burial dress. A young man pushed against a headstone, his face falling away in strips of half-eaten flesh. The spectral skin vanished into the ground as it fell, making way for more decay and filth.

To her right, the cemetery's gate appeared. Turning sharply, Jill felt a sharp twinge in her knee and pain lanced up through her hip. Biting back the pain, she hobbled to the gate.

Jill slammed into the closed wrought iron but the gate refused to give way. Her hands shaking, she sought a lock or latch but nothing was apparent. No chain wrapped around its frame. No latch held it closed. The gate itself just refused to open.

”Oh G.o.d,” Jill cried. She tried to breathe in but the muscles of her chest seized. Clutching her chest, Jill sobbed soundlessly.

I'm sorry, a ghostly voice whispered from behind her. I'm so sorry.

Jill turned quickly and found herself staring into the face of the spectral girl. With each soft breath, spittle leaked through the girl's ruined cheek and dropped onto the sleeve of her blouse.

The girl wasn't alone either. Jill was surrounded by the decomposed specters of the cemetery. Their mouths moved but, like the girl, no sounds emerged. In staggering, shambling steps, the ghosts moved toward her.

Bile rose in the back of her throat as hopelessness seeped into her mind. She drove her back against the fence and slid down to the ground, sobbing violently.

”Stay away from me,” Jill cried, covering her eyes with her hands.

She kept her hands over her eyes as she awaited the clawed fingers of the undead. As the realization that she wasn't being attacked crept into her mind, she slowly lowered her hands and looked around. To her surprise, the corpses had stopped a few feet in front of her.

The little girl stepped forward, stopping just outside Jill's reach. The others remained where they were, standing stoically with their arms held down at their sides.

Opening her mouth, the little girl began speaking again, her jaw mas.h.i.+ng against the jagged wound on her cheek. Despite her insistence as she spoke, no sound emerged.

Tears streamed down Jill's face. ”I don't understand. What do you want?”

It's all my fault, a ghostly voice called out.

The voice didn't come from the little girl, or any of the other ghosts hovering around her. Jill wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and looked past the gathered specters.

The spirits parted in front of her. Beyond the throng of apparitions, another spectral figure walked through the cemetery. The figure was female, but her silhouette was far less defined than the spirits nearby.

Can you forgive me?

The little girl gestured to the newest figure. Despite her apprehension, Jill walked through the parted crowd of ghosts and approached the newest figure. The closer she walked, the more defined the figure became.

The woman's dark hair fell over her shoulders, concealing her face. Her arm was cradled in a sling. A long black dress framed her body, hanging down below her knees.

”h.e.l.lo?” Jill whispered.

The woman bent over, placing a single flower against a headstone. The headstone s.h.i.+mmered with the same unearthly light that permeated all the spirits in the cemetery.

Jill tried to read the name on the headstone but the words danced in her vision, like she was trying to read the words through deep water.

Standing again, the woman stared down at the ghostly grave.

”h.e.l.lo?” Jill said again. ”Can you hear me?”

The woman turned toward Jill. Jill's eyes widened in surprise and her hand flew to her mouth.

”Whitney?” Jill said through a choked sob.

Jill rushed forward but Whitney's spectral gaze wasn't looking at her friend. As Jill tried to embrace her, she fell through the intangible figure and collapsed onto the weed-covered ground.

Surprised, Jill pushed herself to a standing position. She reached out hesitantly and tried to touch the fabric of her friend's black dress but her hand pa.s.sed through unhindered.

”What is this?” Jill asked, turning sharply on the little girl. ”What does this mean?”

The little girl tilted her head to the side knowingly. Jill shook her head at the implication.

”No,” she said, a different wave of horror was.h.i.+ng over her. ”You're wrong, if that's what you think. Whitney isn't dead. I was just with her.”

The little girl stared at Jill with sad eyes.

”I don't believe you! You bring me here, scare the c.r.a.p out of me, just to show me my dead friend? What is this, some Sixth Sense bulls.h.i.+t?”

Jill shook her head. ”No, she's not dead. I was with her an hour ago. Is this a look at the future? Are you showing me what will happen to her? Fine, tell me what to do. Help me save her.”

The little girl shook her head.

”Please,” Jill pleaded, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. ”Please just tell me how to save her. She's my best friend. She's all I've got.”

Jill turned back to Whitney, only to see her friend's shadowy form retreating toward the cemetery's gate.

”No,” Jill demanded. ”I won't let you leave like this! Look at me, Whitney! Look at me!”

Hurrying, she caught up with her friend. She furiously swiped through Whitney's translucent figure over and over again without resistance.