Page 40 of Spooked
“Hey, would you look at that?” Drummer, having recovered, states, gaining our attention. His voice is full of wonder as he points toward the east.
I, like the others, look in the direction where the sun is starting to appear behind the mountains. It’s dawn, which must mean it’s near seven o’clock in the morning. Halloween has now come and gone.Thank fucking, God.
All of a sudden, phones start going off all around.
“Hey, Sam. Yeah, I’m fine. Heading home now.”
“Tash? I’m good. See you soon.”
“Darcy, I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Sorry I left the horses to you, will make it up to you, Mariana.”
In direct contrast, my phone stays dead in my pocket as one by one my brothers reassure their old ladies, obviously concerned that they’d been out of communication all night.
In age, I’m between the F.O.G.s and the young guys who now run the show. But even Hawk, Throttle, and Wizard have something I don’t have. Not for the first time, I regret not having an old lady to call my own.
My head summons up a vision of Maeve, knowing she could have been my ride or die, but she wasn’t real, and our interactions were only in my damaged head. I beat my fistagainst my forehead, wondering how it was possible to feel such a loss at something I never had.
“Time to get back to the compound!” Drummer waves his hand in the air.
Blade hesitates, casting a look at the remains of what once was a house. “Aren’t we going to talk about this?”
“Not here,” Peg says fast. “Maybe later. Though this is something I don’t think I’ll ever get my head around.”
Drummer huffs softly. “Not sure it won’t just be Hound needing his damn brain examined.”
Maybe I could take some comfort that I didn’t hallucinate everything alone. Unless, even this has been just another Groundhog Day Halloween, only in my mind. Though the presence of my brothers makes that hard to believe.
But something’s missing. There’s no Maeve. If this is reality, I think I’d rather lose myself in a fantasy where she could be here with me.
“Let’s ride,” Drummer insists again.
Around me, my brothers don’t hesitate to obey him, heading to their bikes.
“Come on, Hound.” Mouse takes hold of my arm and supports me across the rutted and uneven ground until we get to the SUV.
It’s him having to help me that makes me feel completely useless, and though I’d describe myself as a card-carrying red-blooded man, tears prick behind my eyes. The only woman I ever felt a real connection with was summoned up by my broken brain.
“Snap out of it,” Mouse growls as he puts the vehicle in drive. “Lost sight of you, but I sensed that there were spirits all around. If you saw things, I, for one, would believe they were truly there with you.”
For a moment, I let my suspicions overtake me, that if I admit to him who was there, what I saw, and what went down, he’d use that as ammunition to take my patch from me. But there’s something in his tone, or rather, something that’s lacking. There’s no judgment, no levity, just an acceptance that he’d believe whatever I said that I saw.
“I think I saw Maeve,” he adds, gently.
Turning to him sharply, I question, “Really?”
There’s a slight up-and-down movement to his chin. “Of course, it could have been me picking up on something you were projecting, but something was happening in that house for sure.” He barks a laugh. “Houses don’t just demolish themselves.”
And that’s the part no one had wanted to talk about once we’d escaped the ruins. He casts a sly look my way. “And in no sense was that in your head, Brother. That was something we all saw.”
It’s his quiet recognition that I’ve experienced things outside the norm that has me tapping my pockets and not finding them empty. With open eyes, I bring out what I find.
He risks a glance away from the road ahead, seeing the glint of the exceptional jewellery. His eyes go so wide, he swerves the car. After he’s corrected the steering, he snaps out, “What the fuck, Hound?”
“Emerald’s jewellery,” my clipped voice explains. “Hidden in the remains of a dressing table.” I swallow the lump in my throat and admit, “I wouldn’t have found the secret drawer, wouldn’t even have looked for it, if spirits hadn’t shown me where to search.” Before he can think I’m a thief, I add quickly, “They belong to Maeve.”
“And that?” he asks about the documents I’ve next pulled out.
