BridgeKeeper by L. S. Moore

Author:L. S. Moore
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: young adult, teens, ghost stories, thriller, brothers, supernatural, paranormal
Publisher: The Little Fig
Published: 2023-08-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-two

“Martha Janine Pearson, born 1949.” I reread the temporary marker, a plastic cross that stuck out above the dirt clods. “What the hell?”

Marcus knelt beside me, a thoughtful frown on his face. “Unless you got your ass kicked by a little old lady, this grave doesn’t belong to the spirit we’re looking for.”

“Maybe there’s another one.” I raised up and twisted around in the grass. Cold soaked through the knees of my jeans. There were fifty graves within sight, but no other new gashes in the lawn. This had to be the one I’d seen from the trail in the park. “I can’t believe it. I was so sure. Could he be in one of these older graves? What if he’d gotten killed years ago and hasn’t had a way through the veil until now?”

“Is that what your gut’s telling you?” Marcus asked, studying the ground around the grave.

I remembered how Seth had bowled into me on the trail, his desperate rush of words. “No. His feelings were too raw.”

Marcus pressed his palm against the mound and then, staring at it like Mrs. Pearson might call from six feet down and tell us what was going on, he crumbled a clod. “The body’s nearby. Most souls can’t travel far the first time they make contact.” He scanned the forested hillside across the ravine. “Did you smell anything besides stagnant water Saturday morning?”

“Like what? Oh, you mean . . .” My mouth went dry. I’d smelled the sickly scent of rotting flesh a couple times in my life, a dead possum in the road, an unlucky mouse in the garage at the old house. It’s not a smell you ever forget. “No, I didn’t smell anything dead.” A heavy chain strung along a row of marble posts marked the edge of the ravine. I walked over and leaned out searching the rocky cliff thirty feet down to the creek bank. No dead bodies.

Marcus stood. “We can’t do any more from here. Let’s go back and see what Seth found online.”

Marcus and Dad had had the whole police department and all its resources at their beck and call. We weren’t cops, what did he expect Seth to find? And why had Seth stopped zapping me? He seemed to have gotten fed up with practicing back home.

But a block from our house, Seth finally hit me with the bees, or one bee. His signal was disturbingly faint and showed no sign of stopping. He wasn’t shutting down.

“Something’s wrong.” I sprinted down the sidewalk, Marcus pounding behind me.

Our garage door was open with Mom’s BMW parked half inside and half out on the driveway. She’d barely missed hitting the Harley. Her shrill voice rose from inside the house before I’d rounded the big car’s bumper.

“You can stay at home with us if you’ll only stop! Say you’ll stop!” she shouted, standing over Seth as I burst into the kitchen. “I can’t watch you get killed! I won’t!”

Mom clutched a large glass of her favorite juice.

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