Brighter, a supernatural thriller Read online

"It makes sense," said Heather defensively, and it did, to a point. Except for the fact that what Ramona was saying was impossible.

  Rick laughed. "No, it really doesn't."

  "It's okay, Heather," said Ramona. "They want me to leave, anyway. Mason keeps telling me to stay away from them and to stop digging. They sent me a message by getting Garrett. That's what will happen to me if I don't butt out. I know I can't fight what they are. I'm just going to leave."

  "You can't let them run you out of town," said Heather. "You love Elston."

  "I hate Elston," Ramona said. "I'm stuck there. I just want out. It's all I've wanted for a long time."

  * * *

  Later, after Ramona had left, Heather and Rick were washing the dishes together. Heather had wanted Ramona to stay longer, but it seemed like the longer Ramona stayed in Heather's house, the more uncomfortable she got. She kept saying she needed to get home. She had work tomorrow, and she'd been up too late the night before. So, Heather let her go, but she was really distraught at the idea of her best friend moving far away. She wanted to hang onto Ramona for as long as she could. She half-felt as if when Ramona left her house, she was leaving for good.

  Things were still tense between Rick and her. But at least he was helping with the dishes. She'd expected him to go play video games or mess around on the internet for several hours. Maybe he was really serious about wanting to spend time with her. She knew that their work schedules didn't line up well most of the time. She was starting to feel warm, fuzzy feelings for him. He was her husband. She did love him. Maybe, if she played her cards right, she could even get laid tonight. She and Rick never had sex anymore. He was always complaining that he was tired, or that he didn't feel well. Heather had always thought that was what women were supposed to do. She thought men were supposed to be up for having sex anytime, anyplace. But Rick wasn't a typical guy. He'd wanted to get married young. Most guys were afraid of commitment. Maybe the roles were just reversed in their relationship. He was the girl, and she was the guy. She slid close to him, put her arm around his neck. And then, of course, he ruined it.

  "I can't believe you were encouraging her," he said. "You were acting like that crazy stuff she said could actually be true."

  Heather sighed and moved away from him. "I know," she said. "I just...got upset when she said she was going to move. I'm going to miss her."

  "Right, because Ramona is like the most important part of your life."

  "Rick, please, can we not do this?"

  "I don't think you should hang out with her anymore, anyway. She's obviously totally crazy, and it's rubbing off on you."

  "You can't tell me who to hang out with," Heather said. She couldn't believe he'd just said that. Sometimes, she really didn't feel like she actually even knew Rick. Like he'd put on an act when they'd first met so that she would think he was a nice, well-adjusted guy, but actually he was a jealous, sexist bastard.

  "I'm not ordering you to, I'm telling you what I think."

  "I have known Ramona for a lot longer than I've known you. And when she and I lived together, we got along a hell of a lot better than you and I do."

  "So you prefer your crazy best friend to your husband."

  "I wish you'd stop doing that."

  "Doing what?"

  "Calling me your wife or you my husband. It makes it sound like you own me or something."

  "I am your fucking husband."

  "And evenings like this make me regret that."

  Rick stepped back. He had a dish in his hands that he was drying, and he put it down. He looked stricken. "You don't mean that."

  "You're fucking attacking me. How am I supposed to feel? And you're acting jealous of Ramona. Like you don't know that I'm married to you, and no one could ever take your place. I feel like I don't even know you."

  Rick face twisted, and he shook his head slowly as if it had come loose from his neck. "How can you say that?" he asked quietly.

  "You're being really weird."

  "So you don’t want to be married to me?"

  "I didn't say that. What is wrong with you? You take everything so fucking personally."

  "When you say you regret marrying me, I don't know how not to take that personally."

  Heather threw her hands up in the air. "I can't talk to you about this anymore."

  "Fine," said Rick. "I'll leave. You've wanted to get rid of me all evening." He stalked through the living room and out the door.

  Heather called after him to wait, asked where he was going, but by the time she got to the door herself, his car had pulled out of the driveway. She pulled the door closed and sat down heavily on the floor.

  * * *

  Mason was lying on his couch, reading his Sociology textbook. He tried to keep up with the reading for his college courses, but sometimes he failed miserably. He'd discovered that when he did the reading, he didn't need to study nearly as much for exams, but sometimes reading textbooks was such a chore. He didn’t understand why people had to write textbooks in such a dry style. Certainly, there was a way to convey the information in a more interesting way.

  Someone was pounding on the door of his trailer. He'd bet even money he knew who it was, too.

  He sat up and stretched. The pounding continued. He was coming. God. Mason stood up and went to the door. It was Blair, Garrett, and Dawn. Wow. They were triple-teaming him. "What?" said Mason.

  "Let us in," said Blair.

  Mason studied his fingernails. "What if I say no?"

  Blair rolled her eyes and pushed past him. Garrett and Cecelia followed. Mason stood staring at the empty doorway for a couple seconds, then he closed the door. "Please, come in," he said.

  Blair stood in the middle of his living room, surveying it with distaste. "I don't understand why you moved off the river," she said. "This place is so..."

  "Did you really come here to discuss where I live?" Mason asked.

  "Actually, no," said Blair. "I came to talk about Ramona."

  Mason nodded. Right. Ramona. If he didn't know better, he would think Blair had a crush on Ramona. She talked about her enough. He gestured to Garrett. "I thought the situation was under control."

  "I'm not the only person she told about Angelica," said Garrett. "She also told her best friend Heather. But you knew that."

  "Did you know that?" Blair demanded. "God, Mason, you fucked up that Angelica thing so bad. If you hadn't—"

  "Whatever," Mason said. "You killed Blair in front of Garrett. In front of his goddamned fucking face. And you let her get away, so she was running down the street—"

  "That wasn't all my fault. If you had been there, things might have gone differently."

  "And anyway," said Garrett, "Garrett's not a problem anymore. But Heather is. She's interested in the occult."

  "Did you know that?" Blair repeated.

  "I didn't know she was interested in the occult," said Mason. God. Why hadn't Ramona listened to him when he told her never to say anything about Angelica? This would never have happened if she'd just kept her goddamned mouth shut. On the other hand, if he hadn't wanted to see her so bad, he wouldn't have gone out on the porch that night and offered her a light.

  "But you knew about Heather," said Blair.

  "And you didn't say anything," said Cecelia. "Do you understand that this is about more than just you? So, okay, you're in some sort of depressed funk thing, but what about the rest of us?"

  "I won't let you recruit Ramona," said Mason.

  "It's so much bigger than Ramona now," said Blair. "We take Ramona, that will make Heather suspicious, and then she'll start digging in her little ghost books—"

  "Actually," said Garrett. "It was kind of a big book."

  Blair ignored him. "—and then we're in big trouble."

  "Talk about trouble," said Mason. "I can't believe you're palling around with Garrett, the guy who ‘raped’ you. Everyone in town is talking about it. They think you're crazy, Blair."

  "They'll get over it," snapp
ed Blair.

  "I think you're losing it," said Mason.

  "No, you're losing it," said Blair. "Besides, I used to have someone who helped me with these sorts of things." She crossed to Mason. Ran her hands over his arms. He shook her off. Looked at the ceiling. "What happened to you?" she whispered to him. "Where did you go?"

  Mason went to the couch and sat down. He had to stay away from her. Sure, sometimes, he missed her too, but he just didn't think the way she thought anymore. "So what are you planning to do, then?"

  "Take Heather," said Cecelia. "Ramona will think she's crazy, because everyone who believed her won't anymore. And we cut off the connection to the occult."

  "Heather lives in Freeburg," said Mason.

  "We do it in Freeburg," said Blair. "Or if we can't, we can bring her back here. We can overpower her and knock her unconscious or something."

  "But does it even matter?" said Mason. "She doesn't live in town."

  "I guess that's what you told yourself when you convinced yourself you didn't have to share this information with us," said Garrett.

  Mason sighed heavily. "What if Ramona leaves Elston?" he asked. "Wouldn't that just make this all go away?"

  "You think you can make her do that?" asked Blair. "How quick can you make her do that? You know how hard it is for people to leave this town. It's why we stay here."

  "What do you care about Heather anyway?" asked Cecelia. "Or are you in love with her too?"

  "I'm not in love with Ramona," said Mason. He wasn't capable of an emotion like that. His kind didn't love. They just...survived. As best they could. He sighed. "Fine. When are you planning to recruit Heather?"

  "Soon," said Blair. "But Garrett doesn't know where she lives. We need to get that information from Ramona."

  "You want me to get Ramona to give up her best friend?" said Mason. "She won't do it. She's scared to death of what could happen, and she believes it's real since what happened to Garrett."

  "You're going to warn Ramona, aren't you?" said Blair. "This is why you can't be here alone. We can't keep our eyes on you. You could do anything."

  There was another knock on Mason's door. He stood up. "Jesus, you didn't think three of you were enough? Did you invite everyone over?"

  "No one else is coming," said Blair.

  Mason was already at the door. He flung it open, expecting to see a throng of the others. Instead it was... "Rick?" he said. Mason riffled through memories. It was sometimes hard to keep things straight. It wasn't as if he had little folders with people's names on them and their memories all in neat little files like a Microsoft Office Suite. Instead, everyone's memories got jumbled together. Mason tried to target just Mason's memories. Tried to place this face. "You got married," he said quietly. "To a girl named... Shit. Go away." Rick, who used to be one of Mason's close friends, had married Heather, who must be the same Heather that was Ramona's best friend. Why was he even here?

  Rick looked confused. "I almost went to the river, but then I remembered that you moved. I just need to talk to you, but I guess if it's a bad time—"

  "It's a really bad time," said Mason. "Trust me, you'll be much happier if you turn around—"

  "Who's at the door?" said Blair. She was suddenly behind Mason, her head resting on his shoulder. One of her hands reached to cup Mason's ass. He shook her off again, turning to tell her not to touch him anymore. "Well, God, Mason," she said, "let him in. Don't be rude."

  Mason hesitated. Was there really anything he could do at this point? Garrett would certainly remember that Heather was married to Rick. Rick would be a target anyway, wouldn't he? "Come in," he said, standing aside.

  Rick eased inside, his eyes darting between Mason and the other three people in the room. "Like I said, if it's a bad time, I can talk to you later. I didn't realize you'd be busy."

  "He's not busy," said Blair. She smiled. "Hey, I remember you. You used to live in town, didn’t you?"

  "No," said Rick, "but I went to school in Elston."

  "That's it," said Blair. "I knew I recognized you. What's your name again?"

  "Rick," said Rick.

  "You're Heather's husband," said Garrett.

  Damn it. Mason had known he'd put it together.

  "Yeah," said Rick. "Do I know you?"

  "I'm Garrett Hillard," said Garrett, offering his hand to Rick.

  Rick shook it. "You're Garrett, huh? It's funny, because you're one of the reasons I'm here. My wife has gone totally insane, and she thinks that you..." He looked around. "...that all of you are like these body stealing monsters." Rick laughed.

  "Fuck," said Blair. "Grab him."

  Garrett lurched forward, bear hugging Rick. Rick struggled.

  "Little help here, Mason?" asked Garrett.

  "What's going on?" said Rick.

  Mason didn't move. He didn't want to be part of this anymore. It had to end at some point. It just had to.

  "Mason," Blair prompted.

  Rick elbowed Garrett in the gut and managed to get one of his arms free. Garrett winced as he attempted to get Rick back under control.

  "Mason," said Blair. "Help Garrett." She caught Mason's eyes with her own, put a look of pleading and need into them that Mason didn't know if he'd ever be able to resist. He jerked toward Rick and Garrett. And then it was if his limbs moved without his thought. It was an automatic movement, lithe and slick like butter. He wrapped his arm around Rick's neck. Tightened it. Rick gasped and clawed at Mason's arm, but Garrett captured Rick's hands and forced them down to his waist. Mason and Garrett looked at Blair expectantly.

  "Who's doing it?" asked Mason.

  "You," said Blair.

  "No," said Mason.

  "Oh come on," said Blair. "You take Rick. You go home. You take Heather. Then you're Ramona's best friend. Doesn’t that sound appealing to you?"

  Actually it did. Mason moved one of his hands to the top of Rick's head and spread his palm out so that he was cupping Rick's skull.

  "Wait," said Garrett. "You can't let him do that. He'll sabotage it. He'll feed Ramona more information."

  "That's true," said Blair. "Cecelia." She snapped her fingers. Cecelia approached Rick eagerly. She pushed Mason's hand away, replacing it with her own. Rick's breaths were hardly coming at all now. He'd stopped struggling. His face was purple. Mason knew it was almost over. He tightened his grip on Rick's neck.

  Cecelia's fingers stretched and grew, going white like ice as they did. Long sharp needle-like claws tore through her flesh. Cecelia sighed, a mix of pleasure and pain, then she lifted her hand and sunk the claws deep into Rick's skull. Blood spurted onto Mason, but he kept his grip tight on Rick's neck. He couldn't be sure if Rick was entirely dead yet. If he was, it was okay. Brain activity continued long enough after death for the information they needed to collect. But they couldn't have him recovering. Rick couldn't start to breathe. Not now. Not ever.

  Cecelia's face was still Cecelia's face for that moment. They all had on their human faces. But her face had started to stretch. Her jaw hung open, and it began to fall lower and lower, exposing a gaping hole of a mouth. Blair reached for Mason's free hand as she took Cecelia's. Garrett put his hand over the hand Cecelia had on top of Rick's head.

  Mason could feel it. The first wave rippled into him, like the beginning of an orgasm, just before the point of no return. And then Cecelia threw her head back, every trace of her human face falling away. In a flash of blinding bright light, it ripped through them and into them, searing away their flesh, stripping them to white bone, and Mason lost himself in the ecstasy of it.

  * * *

  Heather woke up when Rick climbed into bed. She'd been sleeping fitfully for only a few hours. Attempts at calling Rick's cell phone had proved fruitless. He hadn't answered. She'd been terrified that he wouldn't come home. So she was relieved to feel the bed go down with his weight. She didn't care about the fight she'd had with Rick anymore. She knew that she loved Rick in a fierce and dedicated way. She didn't want to be w
ithout him ever again. She didn't know if he was still angry with her however, so she tentatively reached out a hand and rested it on his bare chest.

  He covered her hand with his own. "Did I wake you?" he said to her in the voice he only used in the dark in their bed.

  In response, she just snuggled close to him, sighing happily. Rick ran his hand up her arm to her neck, and began stroking her there, in the spot he knew she loved. Knew drove her crazy. She raised her head to him, and he placed his lips on her own. Heather pressed herself closer to Rick's body, and he held her close.

  Everything was going to be okay now. Everything was going to be fine.

  Heather thrust her hand between Rick's legs and felt his body thicken at her touch. He moaned and pulled her closer. "I love you," she whispered against his mouth.

  "I love you more," he said back, the way he always did.

  "No," she said, smiling. "I love you—"

  Rick's hand stopped caressing her neck and wrapped around it. Heather choked. She tried to talk, but she had no air.

  She knew that some people did this choking thing as a kind of kinky sex game, but she and Rick had never really leaned that way. Spanking was about as far as it ever went, and even that sometimes made Heather feel uncomfortable. She didn't know what to do, so she put her hand to his hand and tried to pry his fingers loose. His hand just squeezed tighter. Heather was really having trouble breathing, and she was starting to panic. She slapped at Rick with the hand she wasn't lying on. When that made no difference, she started punching him as hard as she could. He didn't stop!

  Heather couldn’t believe this. What was Rick doing to her? If he didn't let go of her soon, he was going to kill her!

  Chapter Fifteen

  Heather's hand clenched and unclenched in the air as she struggled for breath. Desperate, she thrust it back between Rick's legs, pushing his now very, very hard penis out of the way so she could get lower. Her hands seized the sack below it, and she squeezed as hard as she could.

  Rick howled, doubled into himself, and let go over her.

  Heather scrambled back off the bed, pulling as much air into her lungs as she could manage. "What the fuck was that?" she snarled.