Dead Souls (44 page)

The murders were ultimately pinned on David Mackey. His medical history and psychological background backed up the long-shot possibility of his repeating a similar aggression that Benjamin Conroy had committed upon him and his family seventeen years earlier.
The Daily Observer
reported that after murdering a night guard at the Pine Oak Institute for the Mentally Insane, David escaped the grounds on foot and went on a rather clever, revengeful rampage, killing Benjamin Conroy's sister and brother-in-law, the lawyer handling Conroy's assets, plus a local couple who'd furtively amassed a wealth of information on Conroy and his checkered history. The only one to survive the attack was Conroy's only living legacy, Johnny Petrie, who'd come to
Wellfield
to claim the Conroy estate. Of course it was never entirely explained as to how Mackey learned of the Petrie Family's visit, other than he'd known about it all along and had kept track of the passing years and months on a calendar on the wall in the institute's TV room. Johnny had been questioned about the murder of the driver in his apartment, but the bus ticket with his name on it showed that he'd left
Wellfield
prior to this occurrence. He'd never found out what happened afterwards, and didn't really wish to know, although he came to assume that his mother had somehow perpetrated the misdeed.

Last night, on the fortieth night following the end of it all, Johnny had a dream. It had been the first dream after thirty-nine nights of dark, uninterrupted sleep. In this dream, he returned to
Wellfield
, at sunrise. The town was completely deserted, the people gone, the buildings crumbling before a baleful sunrise. Sepia-toned clouds filled the sky as he paced down Main Street, his footfalls thump, thump, thumping along the concrete sidewalk. In the middle of the street stood the entire Conroy family: Benjamin, Faith, Elizabeth, and Daniel. They were whole again, unhampered of injury. They appeared angelic, hazy white lights glowing behind their heads like halos. Benjamin spoke:
"Jesus roamed the earth for forty nights before ascending into heaven to be seated at the right hand of God."
 

Johnny felt himself waver, then fell down into darkness. But not before hearing Benjamin's final words:
Son…there is one more…

He'd awoken in the middle of the night, nearly unable to breathe, thinking over and over again:
on the fortieth night, on the fortieth night…
.

He'd remained awake the rest of the night.

Now, seven hours later, he stood up from a leather chair in the
Wellfield
town courthouse and shook hands with eight men who were all smiling greedily. He shook hands with the mayor last.

"In about two hours, Johnny, you'll be a millionaire. How's it feel?"

Johnny shrugged. Smiled. He supposed it felt good to know that he wouldn't have to rush off and find work right away. Two million dollars, after taxes, would amount to about one-point-three million, which would certainly pay the rent for a few years in Manhattan before he'd have to decide what to do with the rest of his life.

I just want the hell out of this God-forsaken town
, he thought.
Out, never to look back at the hell left behind. I'll press forward and hope and pray for the 'happily-ever-after' to take over. After all, I know there's a God now—chalk up another one in Mary's corner. Yeah, she knew, all right. There IS a God, and He is watching over us all, making certain that there are many more happy endings in this little concept we call 'life on earth'. We go through the motions, spending our short lives wondering if He exists, and if there are such things as ghosts. All I can tell you is that if the concept is there, then it is true because God put it there for a reason. He wants us to believe in Him…but will never just come out and tell us and take a bow at center stage because His adversary would crash the party like a bolt of lightning and do the same exact thing: tell us that he is there, rubbing his hands in anticipation for us to summon him out of its hidey-hole for a game of good vs. evil.

No, I won't look back. I'll be true and brave and will only look forward for the rest of my life here on earth, because I know a dark moving shadow will always be right behind me, breathing down my neck, waiting…

Johnny exited the room. Carl Davies was there, caught in mid-pace. "Well?"

"Done," Johnny said. "The money will be wired into an account in my name today."

Carl holds out a hand. Johnny takes it, unemotionally. "You've paid the price Johnny. Enjoy your reward. It's the very least you deserve."

"Thank you Carl. I truly appreciate your kindness and generosity."

They left the courthouse and walked in silence down the sidewalk to Carl's car, parked a hundred feet away. Johnny pinched the top of his coat up around his mouth. The wind whipped into his eyes. Tears formed and froze as they trickled down his cheeks.

And in his mind, the dream-voice of Eddie Carlson haunted him:
Johnny, please, see to it that evil never returns to
Wellfield
again…
, and then, the voice of Benjamin Conroy:
Son, there is one more…

"Where's the box?" Johnny asked.

Carl starts the car. "In the trunk."

Johnny took a deep breath, then said, "There's one last thing I need to do."

As if understanding of Johnny's sudden plight, Carl drove away down Main. "Where are we going Johnny?"

"We're going to the bus station Carl. But first, we need to make one stop, okay?"

"And where is that?"

Johnny hesitated, then answered, "The Conroy house."

I
n less than ten minutes, they were there. Although the property was still considered a crime scene, the investigation was officially over. The posts that at one time tethered strips of yellow crime scene tape still stood erect from the ground. Strips of the plastic tape whipped in the wind like flags. Carl pulled the car into the driveway.

"Keep going," Johnny said. "All the way up."

The familiar sound of high weeds and gravel crunched under the tires. Carl drove to the head of the driveway and stopped.

"What are we doing here Johnny?" Carl finally asked.

Johnny considered telling Carl what he already knew, but ultimately decided to keep it to himself. "Just open the trunk, okay?"

Carl nodded, reached down under the steering wheel, and popped the trunk-release. Johnny exited the car and circled around to the back. He lifted the trunk, and peered inside.

The box. He reached in and carefully poked through all of Henry
Depford's
research materials: the bibles, the papers, the notebooks, the photographs, everything that at one point had belonged to Benjamin Conroy. Johnny had requested the materials, reminding those taking charge of willing Conroy's estate that these things had originally belonged to his father, and were to be included as a part of the inheritance. The small stipulation was immediately agreed to by
Wellfield's
lawyers, the will was amended, and in two days Johnny and Henry were allowed to search through
Depford's
study, which fortunately had been 'held as evidence' from his surviving family members. He gathered only those items that at one time belonged to his father.

Including one nail that had been hidden in an envelope. Inside it was a note from Benjamin Conroy, written seventeen years earlier:

There is one more…

Indeed there is
, Johnny thought, grabbing the envelope containing the note and the nail. He opened the envelope and removed the nail, then walked to the barn, thinking along the way,
Benjamin knew. Somehow, he knew. Perhaps it was God who told him. Or maybe it was the false guidance of the non-existent spirit of Osiris. Regardless, in life, he knew how things would pan out, and left me a message, because in death, guided by evil, he knew there would be no other direction than that of evil's lies.

Holding the nail, Johnny entered into the barn.

There is one more…

He paced into the gloom beneath the loft, its rotted wall torn away to reveal its dust coated walls, as unremarkable-looking as the rest of the structure. There huddled in the corner, was the last one.

He recalled what Henry
Depford
had told him when they spoke about Benjamin and the events perpetrated at his home:
Benjamin couldn't get to you, so he crucified the family dog instead…

Johnny paced to it. It had survived here in the same body for forty days: the soul of Conroy's dog, now in the mangled body of the dog Henry ran over with his pickup. It was rotted and full of holes, covered with maggots and horseflies. Its yellow fur was reduced to patches of mangy fuzz. A thick coconut-like foam covered its sticky-red muzzle. It lay on its side, exposed innards dark and still.

It picked its head up and made a weak barking sound.

Tears squirted from Johnny's eyes.
One more…

He took a deep, nausea-filled breath, then slammed the nail deep into the bare heart of the dead dog.

"Enjoy the afterlife," he uttered, then paced out of the barn, into the welcoming warmth of
Wellfield's
morning daylight.

H
e dreams of light, white light, and it is good. It shows him the future, and in it there is a family: He, the patriarch, his wife, and his son and daughter. They attend church every Sunday, spending all their times together, both good and bad. Sunshine rains down on the Petrie family, and goodness abounds. All of them look ahead to a bright future under God's watchful eye.

But, there is a growing shadow in that white light. It represents the temptation to look back. It becomes a secret, one that he keeps from his family. It exists as a cardboard box that sits in the attic of his home. The temptation grows stronger and stronger, and quite soon it begins to eat at him and begs him to explore the mysteries within—the mysteries of his past that will never leave him, because no matter how long he denies the want to look back, it will remain with him, always and forever, growing stronger and stronger…