Free Forest Ghost by Graham Masterton Page A

shots.
    ‘“Grzegorz and I ventured out as it began to grow dark, even though we were still gripped by such inexplicable fear that we could barely speak. We found the bodies of five young German soldiers lying amongst the trees. Three of them had been shot in the head, but all three of these were clutching their own pistols. The other two had obviously faced each other and shot each other in the mouth with their respective rifles. One of them was still holding to his lips the muzzle of his fellow’s Gewehr 98. We could only conclude that this had been a suicide pact between the two of them. They had all killed themselves, rather than face whatever it is that haunts this forest.”’
    Jack said nothing, but waited for Maria to finish. She turned over three more pages in the diary, and then she read, ‘November twenty-fourth, 1940. “It is no use. It is no use fighting this panic any longer. We have seen the white thing again and again, behind the trees. Yesterday we tried to get away and after five hours of walking we almost managed to reach the village of Truskaw. Somehow, however, the dread was so strong that I could hardly breathe, and Grzegorz was so terrified that he could speak no sense whatsoever, gibbering like a lunatic.”’
    Maria paused, and then she said, ‘This, on the same page, is the very last entry. “It is hopeless. We no longer fear that the Germans will find us. In fact, we almost wish that they would, to bring a swift end to this indescribable terror. However now it seems that the Germans are too frightened themselves to come into the forest this far. There is no escape from the white thing, whatever it is – a human being, an animal, or a Forest Ghost. Grzegorz and I have talked and we have decided that there is only one course of action that we can take. We will follow the example of those two German soldiers, and together seek the most honorable death that we can. May God save those we have abandoned, and may Our Lady treat us with compassion and forgiveness.”’
    Maria closed the diary and placed it back in the metal box.
    ‘That is all,’ she said, simply. ‘The diary ends there. All the rest of these papers are letters from various members of the resistance – orders to go into hiding, mostly, and what targets they might consider striking against. Krystyna said that the Institute of History has made copies of all of them, including this diary, but they believed that as the last surviving member of my family I ought to have the originals.
    She lifted the box up and held it close to her face and deeply inhaled. ‘It smells,’ she said. ‘After all these years, it still smells of forest.’
    Jack said nothing for a long time. The rain kept up a soft, persistent pattering, and through the ivory net curtains he could see the drops shuddering down the window pane. Maria closed the box with a squeak and put it back on the side table.
    ‘So that was how they died?’ Jack asked her, at last. ‘Your great-uncle Andrzej and my great-grandfather Grzegorz?’
    Maria nodded. ‘As far as we can tell, because their bodies have never been found. They did not want to kill themselves, because they thought that was cowardly, so they planned to kill each other. In effect, though, like your poor little boy scouts, it seems more than likely that they committed suicide.’

Forensics of Fear
    N ext day, Sparky went back to school, although Jack did offer him another day off, if he wanted it. Jack guessed that he was eager to tell his classmates about how they had gone to Owasippe to identify Malcolm’s body, and what they had found in the woods. After all, the scouts’ suicides had been headline news on almost every TV station.
    He was sitting in his office going through the previous night’s takings when Sally knocked at his open door. It was warm outside and she was wearing a sleeveless white blouse and khaki slacks and very shiny scarlet lip gloss.
    ‘Hey, Jack the Polack,’ she said.