Don't Wake the Dead Page 19

  “We didn’t.”

  “I don’t follow,” I stated, confused by his words.

  “Zoe, since the show aired last night with all the promo information about you and next week’s episode, we’ve gained fifty thousand followers.”

  “What?” I asked incredulously.

  “Since announcing that you joined the show and posting that short clip of you from next week’s episode, we’ve grown by fifty thousand subscribers.”

  “That can’t be right.” I shook my head. “Maybe you misread the numbers before or something.”

  Mal gave me a pointed look. “We’ve been hovering just above fifty-two thousand for months. Nothing I did seemed to help us grow. Now that you’ve joined the show, our subscriber numbers have doubled. It’s amazing! People are already talking about you on the social media pages.”

  I felt the blood drain from my face. “They’re talking about me? What are they saying?”

  He shrugged. “The usual. That it’s cool you can see ghosts. That they’re glad there’s a girl in the group now.” He cleared his throat. “And maybe a few comments about how hot you are,” he mumbled, his voice dropping almost to a whisper.

  “What?” I cried, sitting down in front of the laptop and reading the comments on the YouTube video. My cheeks felt hot as I toggled over to The Wraith Files Facebook page and started reading the posts there.

  “Oh, my God,” I muttered, propping my head on my hands. “I can’t believe this.”

  Mal patted my shoulder. “Hey, don’t get so upset. It’s a good thing.”

  “A good thing?” I asked, my head popping up. “Have you read some of these comments? One guy wants to do something unspeakable to my…my…I can’t even say it!”

  Mal blanched. “Yeah, well there’s always a few weirdos.” He leaned around me, his hands flying over the keys on the keyboard. “I think I’ll just block him right now though, because that really was nasty.”

  “Am I going to end up with a stalker? Because I can’t have a stalker, Mal. My stress level is too high at the moment with a murderer trying to kill us yet police can’t find him. A stalker would drive me right over the edge!”

  Mal squatted down beside me, putting a hand on each of my shoulders. “Breathe, Zoe. Take a deep breath. You will not have a stalker. These are just trolls.”

  “Trolls? Do they live under a damned bridge?”

  He shook his head and sighed. “It’s a term used to describe someone who makes outrageous and derogatory comments on social media posts. They don’t really mean it.”

  “Then why would they write that?”

  “To elicit a response. A strong response. Please try not to let them get to you. I’ll delete any wildly inappropriate comments. I promise.”

  I took a deep, shuddering breath. “Okay, okay. You’re right. It’s the Internet, people post things they would never say otherwise, right?”

  Mal nodded.

  “I still think I need a drink,” I muttered.

  “Well, it’s after noon, so I don’t think we’ll go to Hell for drinking a couple beers.”

  A few hours later, after three hard ciders and a lot of deep breathing, I was feeling much better about the situation.

  “Am I going to be a celebrity?” I asked Mal as we lounged on my sofa and watched television.

  I was feeling a little giddy as I popped the cap on my fourth hard cider, otherwise I never would have asked.

  “Maybe,” Mal answered.

  I burrowed deeper into the couch cushions, my shoulder bumping his. “I’m not sure I want to be a celebrity,” I grumbled. “The paparazzi sucks.”

  Mal laughed. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about the paparazzi unless a network picks up the show.”

  I twisted my head around so I could stare at him with wide eyes. “A network? Like who?”

  Shrugging, he replied, “I’m not sure. My agent is talking to almost everyone…Bravo, Syfy, A&E, AMC, and a bunch of others. There wasn’t a lot of interest before, but with the amount of attention the latest episode is getting, we may finally get somewhere.”

  I gaped at him. “Bravo? Syfy? Those are all huge networks you’re talking about!”

  “Yeah, but there’s no guarantee they’ll want us.”

  “Okay,” I nodded as I spoke. “So, no freaking out yet?”

  “Not yet,” he stated.

  We watched TV for a little while longer, until I could barely keep my eyes open.

  “All right, I have to go to bed,” I declared, shoving myself to my feet. While I didn’t stumble, it was a near thing. That hard cider had gone straight to my head.

  “Don’t forget that we have to go pick up my gun at the sheriff’s department tomorrow,” Mal called out to me as I trudged up the stairs.

  I waved a hand in acknowledgement, but kept climbing without a word. After my sleepless night yesterday, I had no trouble falling into a deep, dreamless slumber.

  Chapter

  “For fuck’s sake, of all the nights for you to sleep like a drunken sailor on shore leave,” Teri muttered.

  My face felt cold, as though someone had held ice against my cheek for too long.

  “Goddammit, Zoe, wake the fuck up!” she yelled.

  My eyes popped open and I sat straight up in bed. Before I could yell at her for scaring the shit out of me, she lifted a finger to her lips.

  “Shhhh, there are people in the house. You have to get out of here.”

  Still feeling foggy from sleep, I fought my way free of the blankets on my bed.

  “That’s fine, Zoe. Don’t worry about being quiet. You want them to know you’re awake and trying to escape,” she spat sarcastically.

  I didn’t respond verbally, but shot her a withering glare as I crept toward the bedroom door.

  “What are you doing?” she asked. “You need to go out the window and go over to Preston’s. He’s home. I watched him jerk o…I mean, get dressed earlier.”

  I grimaced at her slip. There were some things a person just didn’t need to know about her neighbor.

  “What about Mal?” I whispered as quietly as possible.

  She shook her head. “He fell asleep on the couch. They had him tied up before his eyes were open all the way.”

  “Who?”

  Teri shrugged. “I’m not sure. Her name’s Trisha, that much I heard.”

  My heart began to pound in earnest. It had to be Trisha and Steven Dwyer. On bare feet, I padded down the hallway to the mouth of the stairs, Teri trailing behind me.

  “Zoe, seriously, you need to leave!” she cried out behind me.

  I squatted down and peeked around the railing. I could see Mal’s jean-clad legs and bare feet and the top of Trisha Dwyer’s head. It was definitely her.

  “Steve, we need to go get the girl,” she insisted, her voice little more than a hiss. “She could have woken up.”

  “I know, Trish, but I need to make sure this guy is tied up before I go upstairs for her.”

  Trisha sighed loudly, but didn’t argue anymore.

  Moving carefully, I backed away from the stairs on my hands and knees. When I knew I wouldn’t be seen, I climbed to my feet. I wanted to go downstairs and help Mal, but that would be stupid because I knew nothing about self-defense and I was unarmed. The shotgun I’d bragged to Mal about was hidden in the coat closet by the front door. My best bet was to do as Teri suggested and climb out my bedroom window. Preston was a tough, muscular firefighter. He could help me, or at least act as a deterrent so I could call the police.

  Instinctively, I avoided the boards in the wood floor that squeaked, and went to the window. It had been a long time since I’d tried to open it. As I tugged on the sash, it got stuck about an inch from the bottom.

  I gritted my teeth as adrenaline flooded my body in response to this new obstacle. Carefully, I lowered the window then tried again. The sash made it up three inches before it stopped, but now it was completely stuck. I couldn’t close it or open it further.r />
  As I fought with it, the window squeaked. Sucking in a sharp gasp, I stood perfectly still, waiting to see if Steve and Trisha would come pounding up the stairs.

  Nothing.

  The only other window in the room had more than a twelve foot drop straight to the ground. This one opened up over the roof that stretched out over the back porch. The distance from the roof to the ground was a lot smaller.

  I was going to have to force the window open and make a run for it. I didn’t have time to waste. Steve was going to finish tying Mal up any second and come for me.

  I pulled in a breath and yanked up on the window with all my might. Wood squealed and shrieked as the glass flew up, crashing into the top of the window frame.

  Without waiting for a reaction from the intruders, I threw my leg over the window sill, realizing too late that I should have stopped to put on shoes. There was no time now.

  As I shimmied out the window, I could hear footsteps thundering on the stairs.

  “Dammit.”

  At Steven Dwyer’s curse, I slipped and slid down the pitch of the roof, gasping as the rough shingles cut into my bare feet and legs.

  “Trisha, she’s going out the back.”

  When I reached the edge of the roofline, I crept over to the border that hung above the back porch. I lowered myself over the edge, my toes brushing the top of the wooden railing.

  I let go too quickly and lost my balance, falling backward into the shrubs around my house.

  I barely felt the sharp twigs as they bit into my legs, tearing my flesh. Scrambling to my feet, I rounded the back porch and headed toward the front of the house. Maybe if I could get in view of my neighbors and start screaming, it might draw enough attention to scare off Steve and Trisha.

  I made it three steps before an enormous weight hit my back, knocking the breath out of me as it crushed me to the ground.

  I tried to suck in air to scream, but my lungs refused to work. Hard, rough hands grasped my arms and flipped me over onto my back.

  In horror, I stared up into Steven Dwyer’s enraged face. He must have been handsome once, but the excessive drinking and misery from his marriage had ruined his looks, just as they’d ruined Trisha’s.

  “Bitch,” he snarled, pulling his arm back.

  Before I could lift my hands to protect my face, his fist descended and the world exploded into a flash of multi-colored lights, followed by darkness.

  Chapter

  My cheekbone throbbed where it was pressed into the carpet of my living room. I couldn’t hold back the moan that spilled from my throat. My head hurt so badly that I wanted to cry.

  I tried to lift a hand to my face to check my cheekbone, but it wouldn’t move. Opening my eyes into thin slits, I tried to take stock of my surroundings.

  Then the memories came rushing back.

  My eyelids flew open and I found myself face to face with Mal. His brown eyes were focused intently on me.

  “Oh God, Zoe, I thought you were dead,” he whispered, his voice so quiet it was nearly soundless.

  I tried to speak but my mouth was so dry that my tongue felt glued to the roof of my mouth.

  “I don’t understand what you’re waiting for,” Trisha Dwyer bitched. “They know everything and we just broke into their house. If we leave them alive, they’ll tell the sheriff and our asses are in jail for the next twenty years to life.”

  My eyes widened at her words. Mal’s expression mirrored mine.

  “Well excuse me for hesitating to kill two innocent people, Trisha,” Steve barked.

  “I don’t understand why you’re stalling. You’ve done it before. How hard is it to do it again?”

  “You forget that the only reason I did it before, Trisha, is because you told me that Hank beat the shit out of you when you told him you were pregnant with my child and you were leaving. You told me that he said he’d kill you before he let you leave. That you lost the baby. Our baby.” There was a short silence. “But it was all a fucking lie, wasn’t it? You just wanted that big, fat life insurance policy.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” she snapped.

  “For the last eighteen years, you’ve made my life nothing but misery, Trisha, so excuse me if I’m not pissing myself with joy at the idea of killing two more people because you fucking want me to!” he roared.

  “Keep your voice down, Steve! Do you want the neighbors to call the cops?”

  “I just don’t understand why you didn’t do the same thing to me, Trisha. Couldn’t you find another dumb redneck to do your dirty work?”

  There was no response. Mal and I stared at each other in utter shock and terror.

  “You couldn’t, could you?” Steve asked with a bitter laugh. “But you tried, didn’t you?”

  Suddenly, I felt something cold around my ankles, working at the rope that Dwyer had used to tie my legs. I couldn’t see her, but I felt Teri’s presence at my back. As the ropes loosened, I sighed in relief.

  Teri, I mouthed to Mal. He looked confused but I didn’t have time to explain.

  “Steve, you know we don’t have a choice. This will be the last time. After these two are gone, we can leave. You don’t have to stay with me. It’ll all be over,” she wheedled.

  “Hurry, Teri,” I breathed.

  “I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying,” she muttered. “Do you know how hard I have to concentrate to touch these fucking ropes?”

  A few seconds later, the ropes around my wrists fell away. Mal watched incredulously.

  “Knife. Right pocket,” he whispered.

  I nodded my understanding, glancing up to see that Steve and Trisha’s backs were to us. I wouldn’t get a better opportunity to free Mal.

  Quickly, I slid my hand into his pocket and pulled his pocketknife free. I opened it, praying that it wouldn’t click or make any other sort of sound.

  God was on my side because it opened soundlessly. It cut through Mal’s bonds easily.

  As he rolled into a sitting position, he nodded toward the front door. Steve and Trisha were still talking, but their voices were quieter now.

  I rose to my feet and ran toward the front door. In that moment, fear had driven away my ability to think clearly. Otherwise, I would have yanked the shotgun out of the closet and taken aim at the couple from Hell.

  “Steve! They’re getting away!” Trisha yelled.

  I glanced back over my shoulder in time to see Dwyer lift his arm, a pistol gripped in his hand and aimed right at Mal.

  “No!” I screamed, watching helplessly.

  Just before Steve pulled the trigger, Teri appeared at his side, shoving at his arm with both hands.

  The shot went wide, embedding itself into the wall. Mal didn’t hesitate. He lunged forward, grasping Steve Dwyer’s wrist with one hand as his other fist plowed into his nose.

  Even from across the room, I could hear the crunch of the bones as the older man cried out in pain.

  I saw Trisha fumbling with her pocket and realized she was armed as well. There wasn’t time to run for the coat closet. Terrified and desperate, I grabbed the first thing I saw, which was one of the antique brass bookends on a table beside me.

  “Trisha!” I yelled.

  When her head whipped around, I hurled the heavy object at her from just a few feet away. She didn’t have time to evade and the bookend caught her in the shoulder.

  Crying out, she stumbled and fell to the floor. I dashed over to her, landing on her back in the same manner in which Steven had taken me down earlier. I heard the wind go out of her lungs in a rushing groan.

  Before she could recover, I drove my hands into her shoulder length hair, grasping two handfuls. I bashed the side of her skull against the hardwood floor, flinching at the hollow thunk. She flailed beneath me and I did it once more, my stomach turning at the sound of her head hitting the wood.

  This time, her body went still beneath me.

  I quickly dug through her pockets and ran my hands around her waist, finding a small revolver
tucked into the front of her jeans.

  A pained groan filled the air and I straightened, lifting the gun as I rose. Though I didn’t own a handgun, my father made sure I knew how to use one. Just in case, he’d said. After this was over, I was going to thank my father for his paranoia.

  It was unnecessary though, because Steven Dwyer collapsed at Mal’s feet in an unconscious heap.

  Mal stared at me, startled. “I thought you didn’t have a handgun,” he declared.

  “It’s Trisha’s,” I replied, lowering the weapon to my side.

  “Do you even know how to shoot one of those?” he asked.

  “Just because I don’t own one doesn’t mean I’m clueless. My daddy taught me how to shoot when I was a kid.” I glanced down at Trisha’s unmoving form. “I suppose one of us better call nine-one-one before they come to.”

  “You do it.” Mal held out a hand. “I’ll take the gun and watch these two.”

  I didn’t argue. I didn’t want to have to shoot one of them if they woke up and tried to finish what they started.

  I ran upstairs and grabbed my cell phone off my nightstand. Teri appeared next to me, tears on her ghostly visage.

  “I thought you were going to die,” she said brokenly. “I don’t think I’ve been so frightened since I died.”

  “I’m fine,” I soothed her. “Thanks to you. You saved us, Teri.” I felt tears fill my own eyes. “I’m so glad you were here.”

  “Me too,” she responded, moving toward me.

  Though it tingled like hell, I let her wrap her arms around me. She couldn’t feel the contact, not really, but we both needed the comfort of an embrace, even if it was an incomplete one.

  “Okay, I have to call the police before those two psychos wake up,” I stated, stepping back. My arms and back burned from the cold touch of her energy.

  “Can I hang out in your room tonight?” she asked. “After they all leave.”

  I usually banned her from my bedroom, especially when I was sleeping or dressing, but in this case I would definitely make an exception.

  “Absolutely.”