Free Dusk Til Dawn by Kris Norris

turning it over in her hand, wondering if she’d captured any evidence that might give them some insight into who the creepy guy in the photo was or what this was all about.
    “Great. Now I’m the one searching for voices hidden in the static. I must be losing my mind.”
    She placed the unit beside her cell on the bed and grabbed Dylan’s shirt, raising it to her face. She glanced around the room then cautiously inhaled. Spicy pine and earthy musk tickled her senses, mixed with the fresh scent of laundry detergent.
    “God. Even his clothes turn my insides to mush.”
    She gave herself a shake, fingering the hem when a strong breeze swirled over her skin, beading it with a rash of goose bumps. Annie froze. A familiar sensation crept along the nape of her neck, as if someone was watching her. Her grip tightened around the fabric as she spun toward the door, her breath leaving her on a startled scream as she stared at the white figure standing in the doorway. Its features wavered in the bright light, its form slightly transparent. A cruel smile twisted the man’s lips as he sneered at her, slowly floating across the floor.
    Annie took a quick step back, tossing the shirt at the ghost’s face as she darted toward the bathroom. But the door slammed shut, trapping her between it and the mass hovering by the bed. She looked around for something to defend herself when the bedroom door crashed open, bouncing against the wall as Dylan barreled in. He was nothing more than a blur of motion as he raced at the ghost, diving at it from across the room.
    The smell of brimstone infused the air as Dylan passed through the apparition, tumbling roughly across the bed before slamming into the headboard. A harsh cackle echoed through the room as the spirit rose into the air, the lower half of his body expanding into nothing more than a thick black cloud. Dylan rolled to his feet, yelling at her to run.
    She shifted right, but the ghost howled, vanishing and reappearing in front of the door in the space of a heartbeat. The metallic taste of fear crested the back of her throat as she stared at the figure, its haunting eyes burning into a bloody shade of red.
    Dylan shouldered up beside her, his hand a reassuring caress down the line of her spine before he shrugged a bag off his back. He rummaged through the contents, removing a flask and a clear bag of white crystals. He handed her the bag, giving her a hardened stare. “Stay close and when I tell you to run, you’d better race your ass down to the Jeep, or I swear I’ll paddle your butt red the second we’re clear.”
    She nodded, not sure what to make of his claim. He appeared alarmingly calm, and she couldn’t help but wonder if his heart was beating half as erratically as hers. Dylan opened the flask, ushering her behind him as he approached the apparition. The ghost snarled and waved its hand. One of Dylan’s pictures flew across the room, crashing into the wall beside him, splintering glass across the floor.
    It hissed this time. “Die.” The menacing word rumbled all around them as if the air had spoken.
    Dylan stood his ground, raising the container to his chest. “You first.”
    He flicked his wrist, spraying a stream of liquid at the mist. The ghost shrieked, whirling in on itself until it vanished in a flash of light, leaving a smudge of ash on the floor as the only proof it’d really been there.
    “Run!”
    Dylan grabbed the bag then clasped his hand in hers as he raced out the door and down the stairs, his grip never easing. She ran with him, the echo of his single word still ringing through the air. He turned sharply at the bottom of the staircase, heading for the back of the home. A hiss sounded behind them, sputtering like water on a fire, as they charged into the yard. Dylan didn’t slow as he led her along the side of the house, emerging beside the Jeep.
    “Jeep, now, honey.”
    She waited as he unlocked the door, barely ducking her head in time as he shoved