Nightmare Magazine Issue 16 by Nightmare Magazine

Author:Nightmare Magazine [Nightmare Magazine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Horror, Dark Fantasy, Short Stories
Publisher: John Joseph Adams
Published: 2013-12-31T00:00:00+00:00

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That was one of the longest nights in Francisco’s life. Calling Gaines. Calling the cops.

Answering a thousand questions.

The cops—Sheriff Crow—grilling him, almost accusing him.

Gaines looking furious and scared, and giving him looks.

Everybody watching as the sheriff made Francisco take a breathalyzer. Their confusion when he passed. No trace of alcohol.

All the rubberneckers showing up in crowds like someone sent out invitations.

The reporters. First the local guys, then stringers for the regional news. Then the network TV vans. Shoving cameras and microphones in his face.

Hour after hour.

Then the O’Leary’s showing up.

Yelling at him.

Screaming.

Mrs. O’Leary totally losing her shit. Nobody thinking that was strange, because it wasn’t strange. Francisco thought about how he’d feel if this was the grave of one of his kids. He’d fucking kill someone. Himself, probably.

Francisco saw Mike and Scotty and Lucky from the Scarecrow. Some of the other guys, too. Hanging back, standing in a knot, bending now and then to whisper something to each other. Scotty nodded to him once, and that made him feel a little better. Solidarity. He was still one of them, and that wasn’t a sure bet at first. Sometimes things cut you out and make you one of “them,” one of the people the guys talk about rather than talk to.

Debbie texted him a dozen times, asking if he was okay, telling him everything was on the news, telling him things would be okay, asking when he was coming home.

It was nearly dawn before the cops cut him loose and let him drive home. By then most of the crowd was gone. His friends were gone, and the Scarecrow was closed.

Even Gaines was gone. Probably on the phone with his lawyer, worrying about how much of his money he was going to lose to the O’Leary’s when they sued. And, of course, they would sue. This was America, everybody sued everybody. Might even mean that Gaines would fire him, cut his losses, try to blame it all on him.

The last person left at the cemetery was Sheriff Crow.

“You can go,” he said.

Francisco stood for a while, though, staring at the grave.

“Why?” he asked. For maybe the fiftieth time.

The sheriff didn’t answer. Instead he asked a question he’d already asked. “And you saw no one here?”

“Like I told you. I was alone here.”

“No kids?”

That was a new question and it startled him.

“What—you think some jackasses from the college—?”

“No, I mean younger kids. Did you see any young teenagers.”

“No.”

“No teenage girls?”

Francisco shot him a look. “What? Like girls from Kaitlin’s class?”

The sheriff just stood there, looking at him with an expression that didn’t give anything away. “You can go,” he said again.

Francisco trudged back to his car, confused and hurt and scared. Sad, too. He wanted to go home and hug his kids, kiss his wife, and check the locks on all the doors.

When he got into his car he checked his cell phone and saw that he’d missed a bunch of text messages. From Scotty and a couple of the guys. Shows of support.

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