To celebrate the upcoming release of my paranormal mystery novel, By Your Side, I’m sharing random excerpts of the story each week from now until July 22 when the book goes live.
Click here for more info on By Your Side and to pre-order the ebook for $2.99 from Amazon, Kobo, Apple, Nook, or Smashwords. For now, enjoy the following scenes from Chapter Six – Dreams and Encounters
Elias Gray stared at his outstretched arms as if noticing them for the first time. His shirt was soaked through, his pants drenched and torn. He had also lost a shoe. How did I manage that? He recalled that his foot had become caught in something while he was under water and he had to sacrifice his shoe to free himself. Under water?
Elias stood at the end of a narrow stone jetty beneath an overcast sky. Waves crashed against weathered rocks far below. How did I get here? On either side of him, a vast beach stretched unbroken into the distance. Scattered bodies lay along the sand, but they were not sunbathing. They were fully clothed and motionless.
All of them dead.
Bobbing in the water, bits of debris mingled among crates and flat, rectangular objects. Some of them drifted toward the base of the jetty. Priceless paintings and ancient statues were tossed by waves and smashed against jagged rocks.
Farther out to sea, a jumbo jet’s white and blue fuselage tilted sideways and sank into the deep. Within seconds, the ocean had claimed it and the tide carried on its undulating rhythm. From the horizon beyond, a dense fog swirled its way toward land at an impossible speed.
Elias scanned the corpses along the shoreline. He shouted at the top of his lungs, but there was no response. I can’t be the only one. There must be at least a few other survivors. He dropped to his knees and lowered his head into his hands. None of this makes sense. I don’t even remember getting on a damn plane.
“Janos!” A voice called from the fog that had by now enveloped the jetty. Elias drew himself up, expecting to find someone running toward him. “Janos!”
No. It came from below. Elias crawled to the edge of the jetty and peered down. “Leland!” His friend had managed to climb halfway up the side. “Hold on. I’m coming to help you.”
Elias lowered himself, finding handholds in the crags and crevices as he descended toward Leland. He was nearly within arm’s reach of his friend, but there was no way to go any farther. “Leland, if you climb a bit higher, I can pull you up. You can do it, old man.”
Leland inched his way closer. Elias grabbed his hand and strained to haul him up. “Dammit, Leland. Push with your legs.”
“I’m sorry, Janos.” Leland’s voice quivered. “I seemed to have misplaced them.”
“What?” Elias stretched himself to look past his friend.
Entrails and bone protruded from Leland’s severed torso. Elias screamed and lost his grip, sending what was left of his friend plunging into the sea. He pressed his face against the cool damp stone. Don’t panic. Breathe. Just breathe.
“Lose something?” A voice called from above. Although the man’s features were difficult to discern through the fog, the double-barreled shotgun bent over his arm was visible enough.
“Who are you?” Elias asked.
“I’m… all alone among the dead.” He loaded two shells into the gun and took aim at Elias. “And so are you.”
Both barrels exploded.
“No!” Elias twisted sideways. His free hand slapped something solid in the fog and sent it tumbling to the floor. Floor? When Elias awoke, he found himself lying across his bed face down. The room was dark, save for the pale glow of moonlight from the bay window across the room. Spare change, once stacked neatly atop his nightstand, lay scattered about. The sheets in which he’d become entangled clung to his damp skin. Elias examined his hands in the moonlight. They were covered in blood.
He thrashed and kicked at the sheets until he tumbled off the side of the bed. Scrambling to his feet, he dashed into the bathroom, slipping on the cold tile. He flipped the light switch with his elbow. Bloody footprints streaked the floor.
“Christ, what the hell is this?”
In the mirror, his naked body was spattered with blood, but there were no open wounds and he felt no pain. Seconds later, he was in the shower, taking comfort as ruddy water disappeared down the drain—until it didn’t. Instead, it began filling the tub, covering his feet, his ankles. Something rubbed against him. Elias leapt out of the water just as a fully clothed body surfaced face down. It was a woman of slim build, her drenched auburn hair matted to her back and shoulders. Elias turned the body over.
The woman’s green eyes flashed open. “You’re all alone here,” she whispered. “Alone among the dead.”
Elias awoke with a shout. He tore aside the covers and stormed out of the bedroom, pacing the length of the hallway until his anxiety abated. They were just dreams. Just dreams. All the talk about ghosts in this house. Need to stop taking this shit seriously. According to the antique brass clock on the wall, it was nearly ten-thirty in the morning. He’d never slept so late in his life.
He opened the window at the end of the hall and leaned out. The sky was overcast, just as it had been in his dream, but everything else appeared normal. All except for the cellar doors. Directly below, they were wide open.
“What the hell?” They had been closed and locked for the past two days. Had Leland and Hagen returned in the middle of the night to double-cross him? Perhaps they wanted to steal the art back and sell it on their own, cutting Elias out of the deal.
He ran back to his bedroom and slipped into jeans and a polo shirt before retrieving the Luger 9mm hidden behind his bedside table. He crept down to the first floor, but there was no one to be found. In the kitchen, however, the door leading to the basement was open—again.
I’m putting a fucking padlock on this thing. Elias listened for any sounds from below before making his way down. The basement was empty save for the covered paintings and wooden crates along one wall. Convinced that he was alone, Elias tucked his gun into his jeans and made a cursory inspection of his inventory to ensure all pieces were accounted for.
When he was satisfied, he started toward the cellar doors but slipped on the smooth concrete. He raised his right foot. The sole was covered in blood, same with the left.
Behind him, the steps were bleeding.
Like a macabre waterfall, streams of deep red seeped out of each wooden tread and spilled down to the next. Elias drew his gun. He backed away from the steps until something to his right caught his attention. On the wall above his inventory, a word formed.
Verbrecher.
The accusation struck as much fear into Elias as the fact that it was written in blood. The German word for criminalremained legible for only a few moments before losing form and dripping down the wall.
The metal doors that led out to the side yard were still wide open. Elias bolted toward them, but no sooner had he reached the second step than one of the doors slammed down on his head, sending him sprawling. His gun fired as it flew from his hand and skittered out of sight somewhere in the shadows of the stairwell.
Pain seared through his skull. Elias cradled his head between his arms. He forced his eyes open and winced at the bright morning sunlight that now pierced the clouds. As if taunting him, the other cellar door remained open. Elias wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of the house but couldn’t even push himself up, let alone think through the sharp throbbing.
He heard a voice, a man shouting. Perhaps it was the man from his dream, the one with the shotgun. Before Elias faded out, he wondered where his own gun had gone.
* * *
The paperwork had been completed and the hospice staff briefed. Robert and April were taking their son home to die. They walked beside him as Tammy pushed his wheelchair down the hall. When they reached the elevator, she leaned down to give him a gentle hug.
“The man from the house is coming,” Matt whispered. “He’s on his way to the hospital in an ambulance.”
“Which man?”
“The one with all the paintings.”
“You mean the art dealer? Elias Gray?”
Matt nodded as the elevator doors opened and several people filed out.
“What happened to him?” Tammy asked.
“The girls said he lives alone.” Matt lowered his voice as his father backed him into the elevator. “Alone among the dead.”
April inserted herself between Tammy and her son. “Please, Matt. Not this again.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Meade. I have no idea what he means.”
“Ask Mr. Gray,” Matt said. “He’ll know.”
“I warned you, Doctor.” Robert glared at Tammy as the elevator doors closed. “Good riddance.”
Check back next week for more thrills and chills from By Your Side!