Flowers in a Dumpster (9 page)

“Do we really have to keep this up ‘til dawn?” Kinsley asked.

“That’s what we all signed on for.”

“Yeah, but it’s dead out here.”

“Pardon the pun,” Topher added. He stood on the base of a large monument, taking a closer look at a life-sized statue of Jesus that was partially covered in moss. The statue had one hand stretched out, and which Topher grabbed it as if they were shaking. “Hey, someone get my picture. Topher Bridges and the Son of God, having a meeting of the minds.”

Kinsley laughed, but Cane just sighed. He sat on the ground with his back propped against a tombstone. He was tired. No, beyond that. Exhausted. He had such high hopes for this investigation, truly believing it would be the one to put S.C.A.D.P.I.T. on the map. How could Bonaventure have yielded nothing? The prior three investigations had all resulted in
some
findings. Nothing definitive or earth-shattering, but a few orbs and EMF spikes, and outside the Mercer House they’d captured some garbled static on the voice recorder that sounded like someone (Jim Williams?) hissing, “I was poisoned.”

But here, at a site purported to be one of the most haunted places on the planet, they were coming up empty-handed. It didn’t seem possible. Worse, he’d bragged to several people about this investigation (although he’d sworn Topher and Kinsley to absolute secrecy). How would he face them later to admit he had nothing to show from spending the entire night in the cemetery?

With another weary sigh, Cane said, “Let’s just call it a night.”

Topher, who had gone on to pretend the Jesus statue was strangling him, straightened up so suddenly that he almost toppled off the monument. “Are you serious, dude?”

“Yes, I’m serious. Let’s just pack everything in and go home.”

Hope and doubt seemed to be warring in Kinsley’s eyes. “Even though we haven’t found anything yet?”

“That’s precisely
why
we’re calling it quits.” Cane stood up. “If anything was going to happen, it would have happened by now.”

Topher jumped down and walked over. “It’s not like you to give up. You feeling okay?”

“I just don’t see the point of continuing a fruitless investigation. Having zero findings isn’t going to earn us any recognition or get the group any closer to being sanctioned by the school.”

“Yeah, but we’ll try again, right?”

Cane looked from Topher to Kinsley, making an effort to rekindle his passion for the hunt, but he just felt drained. Maybe his father was right. Maybe this whole paranormal investigation thing was a childish waste of time. “Why don’t we—”

He was interrupted by a loud noise that startled them all. It sounded like cables snapping. Lots of them. Coming from all around.

“What the hell is that?” Kinsley said, sidling up behind Cane to grip his elbow.

Cane took a moment to thrill at her touch—when he’d first met her at school he had harbored a major crush, but once she joined the group he had put such thoughts out of his mind.

The sound of cables snapping intensified . . .

. . . then stopped altogether.

A silence, so profound it felt like going deaf, replaced the noise. The trio stood perfectly still. Cane, intending to break the silence, was cut off when a new noise arose. This softer sound was somehow more ominous. Scrambling and scratching, like something clawing its way along the ground and pavement. Several somethings, actually. Perhaps dozens. It came from everywhere, surrounding them.

“I think we should go,” Kinsley said, an unmistakable tremor in her voice.

Topher, his usual prankster persona discarded like an old sock, nodded mutely.

“Are you guys insane?” Cane asked. “This is what we came here for. Finally something is happening. Get your equipment ready and let’s investigate.”

Kinsley gripped his elbow tighter. “This isn’t like the others. This isn’t ghost lights or creaking floorboards. Listen to that . . . something is out there.”

“Yeah, and I’m going to find out what.” Cane raised the camera and scanned the cemetery around him. He didn’t focus on any one area since the sound was everywhere. He stared intensely at the display screen, his surroundings becoming a green and black otherworld. At first he saw nothing, but then an object zipped across the screen, low to the ground like an animal. It moved so quickly any real details were indiscernible.

“There,” he said, pointing. “Something darted between the grave markers about twenty yards that way.”

Topher started to speak, but his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “What kind of something?”

“I’m not sure, maybe an—oh shit! There went another one! And another!”

“What are they?” Kinsley asked. The tremor of her voice replaced with an edge of hysteria.

“I can’t say for sure. Topher, are you getting anything on the EMF?”

When Topher didn’t respond, Cane tore his gaze away from the camera’s display to look at the other man. Topher’s face resembled little Gracie’s statue, pale contrasting against the darkness. The EMF reader hung at his side, forgotten as the chaos escalated. Cane repeated his question louder, making Topher jump into action. “Um, no, there’s nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Are you sure that thing’s batteries aren’t also dead?”

“I’m sure. Look, maybe we should get out of here. Whatever this is, it doesn’t sound supernatural.”

“It’s certainly not natural,” Cane said softly, turning back to the camera. The things seemed to swarm around them, surrounding them. From what he could see on the display they looked similar to scorpions, complete with stinger-tipped tail raised above them. They were far too big to be scorpions, though. About the size of a full-grown bulldog.

“Let’s just go,” Kinsley said, grabbing Topher’s elbow. “Cane can stay if he wants.”

“Dude, come with us,” Topher said. “Sounds like whatever it is, is getting closer.”

Cane heard them but didn’t respond. He slowly turned full circle, watching the night through the camera display. Yes, Topher was right. Those things swarmed around them in a constricting circle that tightened like a noose. Still, he couldn’t force himself to leave.

Topher took Kinsley by the hand. “Suit yourself. We’re out of here.”

The two started off, back in the general direction of the main gate, where they’d have to scale the fence to get to the car—parked two blocks away behind an abandoned gas station. They had the flashlights, whereas Cane had the night-vision camera.

“Fuck, look at that,” Kinsley exclaimed behind him. This grabbed Cane’s attention. He hurried over to the other two to investigate the discovery.

They stood in front of another Sago Palm. Cane was about to turn away when he noticed what caused Kinsley to shout out. Kinsley trained her light on the spores again, which were ruined, shredded. The woven vines had broken open, lying in tangled heaps.

“I told you I saw something move in the spores,” Kinsley said. “Whatever it was, I don’t know,
hatched
out of them.”

“That’s ludicrous,” Cane said with no real conviction. This seemed the most logical explanation under the circumstances.

Topher said, “This shit is too fucked up for me. I signed on for a ghost hunt, not a creature feature.” He took off toward the main gate, not pausing to see if anyone or anything followed.

Kaitlin turned to Cane. “Please, don’t be such a mule. Let’s get out of here.”

Cane studied the ruined spores again and decided she was right. He was about to say so when the palm before shook furiously, as if caught in a high wind. Only there was no wind. They both started to back away, but not fast enough.

Something leapt out of the fronds and onto Kinsley’s chest, knocking her to the ground. She screamed, crab walked as she tried to shake it off, but before she could free herself from its grip the thing’s tale whipped around and the stinger punctured her left eyeball. She screamed again, this time more of a high-pitched shriek.

Cane was frozen in place. He knew he should go to Kinsley, try to help her, but the monstrosity before him rendered him incapable of moving. It did indeed resemble a large scorpion, only without the claws and with more than eight legs. Encapsulated in a blue-gray shell, shining like metal in the moonlight, the
thing’s
multi-jointed legs ended in sharp points that stabbed into Kinsley’s flesh as it crawled up her torso. Her left eye socket was a bloody crater. Somewhere along the
line
, her screaming stopped, replaced with a wheezing rattle. Her limbs jerked, the flashlight still gripped tightly in one hand. At least, until she brought it down on the ground so hard it shattered. The night was bright enough, however, that Cane could still see her one good eye roll toward him, pleading silently.

Then the creature leapt onto her face, and from the crunching sounds, Cane assumed it had some kind of mouth on its underbelly. Sharp teeth made quick work of cartilage and bone. Much to his horror, Cane realized he was filming all of this on the digital camera.

When three more creatures emerged from the shadows, scuttling quickly toward Kinsley’s body, Cane finally overcame his paralysis and took off running in the direction Topher had gone a few moments ago.

Only a few moments ago, when Kinsley still breathed.

The sound of the creatures moving through the cemetery overpowered Cane’s senses, filling his ears like apocalyptic thunder. In his mind, however, he could still hear Kinsley’s high-pitched shriek. He had to alter direction more than once when the creatures scrambled into his path. He leapt over one, barely avoiding its whipping tale. Soon, though, he’d become disoriented.

Then, he saw little Gracie sitting in her wrought-iron cage. A landmark, something to help him get his bearings straight. With renewed vigor, Cane picked up speed. He still carried the camera, evidence of the night’s fatality. When he got out of here—and he would not allow himself to even entertain the idea that he wouldn’t—he would need it as evidence so the authorities wouldn’t think him insane.

When he heard Topher calling his name, he did not stop. He did slow, eyes darting around for some sign of the man. Then he realized the voice was coming from above, and he glanced up to see Topher straddling a branch about twenty feet up in a live oak.

“What the hell are you doing up there?” Cane hissed, standing directly beneath him.

“Hiding from those things. You need to get your ass up here, too.”

Cane actually made a move toward the lowest hanging branch, but then stopped. He kept visualizing the creatures’ legs, the way they ended in those lethal points. Seemed to him, the damn things wouldn’t have any trouble climbing.

“Get out of there,” Cane said. “It’s not safe.”

“It’s a lot safer than being down there with those . . . whatever the hell they are. The cemetery is crawling with them. Where’s Kinsley?”

Cane tried to answer but his voice was locked away and he could only shake his head.

“Damn man, that a—”

He never got to finish his thought, because one of the creatures suddenly dropped from a higher branch, landing directly on Topher’s back. He screamed as he flailed. Then another dropped onto his back. Topher leaned too far to one side and toppled off the branch. Cane backed up quickly. Topher hit the ground with an audible
crack.
A dozen creatures attacked at once, covering him completely.

Cane turned and ran. He wasn’t used to this much physical exertion and a painful stitch stabbed in his side. Still, he pumped his legs harder. Morbid as it was, he hoped that Topher would keep the creatures occupied long enough for Cane to make his escape.

As if an answer from Heaven itself, the main gate came into view. He was almost home free. Relief flooded his system, which perhaps made him drop his guard. Cane didn’t see the creature until it was almost upon him. He side-stepped it, stumbled, nearly fell but managed to keep his balance. For a moment, he thought he’d avoided disaster.

That is, until he felt the pain in his left ankle. Looking down, he saw the stinger retracting. He kicked out, his foot connecting squarely with the creature’s side. It felt like kicking a boulder. He made for the gate once more.

His left leg tingled, but the tingling gave way to total numbness, and his leg gave out. He collapsed onto the pavement, banging an elbow and skinning his palms. Cane gritted his teeth against the pain and crawled forward. The gate was so close. So close. He could almost touch it.

The numbness spread throughout his lower torso. Pretty soon everything below the waist was dead weight. Still, he used his fingertips like claws to drag himself forward, inch by excruciating inch. The moon dipped behind a cloud, bringing total darkness over the cemetery. Cane felt the numbness spreading up his body. He knew he wouldn’t be able to move at all, sooner rather than later. Maybe he wouldn’t even be able to breathe.

Then he heard that sound, the scrambling and scratching as the creatures closed in on him. It sounded like an army of creatures were approaching him from behind. Not rushing. As though they were savoring every agonizing moment Cane spent incapacitated. He glanced back, peering into the shadows. With trembling, numbing, hands, he brought the camera up to his face. Cane aimed it back to the cemetery, staring at the display screen.