Free The Writer by Amy Cross Page B

the same blank look in his eyes.
    “I was worse,” he continues, as a cracking sound starts to emerge from his forehead. “I died instantly.”
    Slowly, his entire face starts to split open and collapse in on itself, taking the upper part of his head with it.
    “Get out of here!” a voice screams suddenly.
    Turning, I see Jacqui standing next to me with a horrified look in her eyes and her mouth torn open into a scream.
    “Get out!” she shouts again. “It’s not safe! They’re after you! Get out of here!”
    “Beth!” David shouts.
    “No!” I reply, turning and pulling the back door open. Almost tripping over the ledge, I stumble out into the garden and start racing toward the gate, only to suddenly slam into a dark shape.
    “Beth?” John asks, grabbing my arms. “What the hell’s wrong? I heard you shouting in there!”
    “It’s them!” I tell him, turning to look back at the house, where Hannah and David are watching me from the open door. “Do you see them? John, please, tell me you see them!”
    “I…” He pauses, his face filled with shock.
    “You see them, don’t you?” I sob. “John, you see them, don’t you?”
    “I… I see something ,” he replies uncertainly. “It sure looks like… but it can’t…”
    “It’s them,” I continue. “They’re right there, John!”
    “I…” He pauses, and I can see from the look in his eyes that after all these years of denying that such things are possible, he’s finally having to face the truth. “This way!” he says suddenly, pulling me through the gate and over to his truck.
    “Where are we going?” I ask him.
    “Away from here,” he replies. “I know a place. Don’t worry, it’s just… We need to get away from here so we can work out what’s really happening!”
    As he unlocks the door, I look back at the house, and this time there’s no sign of Hannah and David in the doorway.
    “They’re gone,” I tell him.
    “They were there a second ago,” he mutters, pulling the door open. “Get in!” he shouts, hurrying around to the other side.
    “You saw them, didn’t you?” I ask as I get into the truck. “Please, tell me you -”
    “I saw them!” he hisses, pulling the driver’s side door shut and starting the engine. “I saw…” He looks toward the house for a moment. “I saw something. I saw -”
    “It was them,” I continue, as my heart pounds in my chest. “You saw them! It was them!”
    Without replying, he floors the pedal and the wheels shriek as the truck lurches forward. Within seconds we’re speeding along the dark street, and I can’t help looking back toward the house.
    “It was them,” John says finally, almost as if he’s admitting defeat.
    “You saw them,” I reply, turning to him. “You can’t deny it anymore. They were right there. I know you always say you don’t believe in ghosts, but -”
    “It was them!” he shouts again, gripping the wheel firmly as he keeps his eyes on the road ahead. “It was them, Beth. I saw their faces. It was Hannah and your husband, they were right there.”
    Trying to stay calm, I stare forward for a moment.
    “They were ghosts,” he continues, his voice filled with shock. “I never thought it was possible, but I saw them. Two ghosts, right in front of my eyes.”

Seven
     
    “What are we doing here?” I ask as the truck crawls to a halt on the gravel road, its headlights picking out a small cabin up ahead.
    “This is where I come to write,” John replies, his voice taut with tension. “We’re safe here.”
    “We need to go back,” I tell him. “We need to face them in the house.”
    “Are you serious?” he asks, stopping the truck and switching the engine off. When he turns to me, it’s clear that he’s terrified. “Beth, what happened back there was -”
    “You saw them,” I reply, interrupting him. “Say it again. You saw them.”
    “I saw them.”
    “It wasn’t just me.”
    “It wasn’t just you.” He pauses for a moment.