Enlisting Her Heart (13 page)

by Willow Brooke

Jammi pondered her life, going over the
‘
if's
’
and
‘
why didn't I's
’
the entire trip. She had no collage
degree,
besides a few hours at the community building in the small town she had grown up in. Friendship, Texas
,
wasn't known for much of anything. The jobs were all blue collar with no extra education needed unless you moved a hundred miles in any direction. She had planned on staying there forever, just like her parents had, and some day settling down to have a family and plant roots with Danny Lawson. So much for that idea.
Now, the open road was the door to new opportunities, and she was in the prime of her life. This little thought fueled her to press on, giving her the ray of positivity to bring a small little smile to her face.

With only five miles left to go, Jammi eased down the road, remaining in a hydroplane most of the way. When her tires hit something that had floated into her lane, she set off in a dead spin. “Shit!” Just like her daddy had taught her, she turned the wheel in
an
attempt to correct
the
wheels and get the vehicle to a stop. She watched as the edge moved in closer and closer, sending her heart up into her throat. If she didn't get stopped now, she was going to slam into the guardrail. “Please let it hold up!” Her voice squeaked the moment her front bumper made contact with the metal. Three more times she turned, smashing against the tiny barrier that kept her from pummeling over the side to instant death. She finally screeched to a stop, just as the car made a clunking noise and shut off. Her first reaction was relief that she had survived and was alive. “Oh my God. Thank you
,
Jesus.” Her head leaned back against the headrest. Tears welled in her eyes, streaming down her cheeks in rivers of relief.

The throbbing in her fingers came to her attention as she unlocked the death grip she had on the steering wheel. Wiggling and rubbing each hand, she tried to work blood back into them to help with the ache. If it weren't such a dangerous spot, Jammi would have been half tempted to recline her seat back and sleep in her car until daylight. As the weather stood, there was no telling if o
r when the mud slides and drain
off would gush over the side of the cliff, and take her with it. Plus, with her being on the bend of a rather nasty curve, any passerby could slam into her and send her tumbling over the edge.

Rubbing the tears away, she sat back up and cranked the ignition. The first crank resulted in a few sputtering sounds, then nothing. Her second attempt was about the same, and the third
,
it refused to even turn over. “Shitty-shitballs!”
s
he yelled in frustration. “Great! I get to walk in a downpour on this twisted, dark
,
spooky ass road and hope I don't get hit by a friggin' Mack truck. This day keeps getting better and better!” With one final pound to the steering wheel, she unbuckled and turned to the back seat, rummaging for her raincoat buried in the over
-
stuffed trash bags that held everything she owned. After tearing holes in four bags, she spotted the bright pink plastic material and yanked it out the side, shredding the bag in two. “Ughhh!” Coat in hand and her cell tucked safely in her bra to keep it dry
,
she grabbed her keys and suited up. With any luck, the coat would keep her from getting totally soaked to the bone and she wouldn't catch pneumonia before she found the small amount of civilization that lay only half a mile from her destination.

On
the
count of three, she opened the door and stepped out into the torrential downpour. Her feet were soaked through before she could even step away from the car. With a small shoulder on each side of the road, she knew it was either hurry or risk becoming road kill. The water sloshed up to her knees, making the trek even more rugged. “Lord, please don't let this be how I die. If it is my time, let me go out more gracefully. I don't want to fall to my death from the bumper of a vehicle or from pneumonia. Send lightning or something that will be fast and painless.” She spoke to the darkness, wishing now she would have grabbed the flashlight out of the glove box. The car was at least half a mile back, and there was no way in hell she was going back to get it. The pitch-blackness started screwing with her mind, setting fear into her gut. What if's began snowballing in her mind, making each step pure torture. She began to jog, ignoring the burn that set into her thighs and calves. Oh, she was sooo taking a hot bath when she got to her new home. “Shit! That is going to be kinda hard when all of my dry clothes and toiletries are in the
damn car
!” Now, she ran on anger. It helped some, keeping the negative ways she could die at bay. Lights show
ed
ahead, giving her the little boost of hope she needed. Her feet were so cold and numb
that
pins and needles shot up her legs, making each step agonizing.

By the time she made it to the parking lot of the small little store, she couldn't fight the tears that flowed. The past few days had taken its toll, and now her walls were finally starting to crumble. She ran into the parking lot of the tiny convenience store using the last little bit of energy she had left. Most of the lights were off, but there was a pick
-
up truck parked in the front, and she prayed someone was still there cleaning up for the night. Her hand felt like it would fall off as she rapped against the glass door. Jammi looked in, watching for any sign of movement. She huffed a deep sigh of relief when a figure walked out of the back toward her. She couldn't make out his face from the rain that gushed down her face, but knew inside meant warmth and dryness, and if she was lucky
,
something hot to drink.

By Willow Brooke

Zara
h
had awoke at the
continual
sound of cabinets being slammed and dishes rattled. Tonight, the unworldly things that took up residency in h
er home took it a step fu
rther. They had graduated rapidly from the ordinary books flying off the shelves to lights coming on and doors locking by themselves to dirty place settings and half eaten food lying on the table. Tonight, she had been attacked. While in the shower, something had locked her in the glass stall and turned off the cold water, scolding her skin. Due to all of the what if scenarios she had went over and over in her mind from the numerous horror movies she watched, she had instinctively used her elbow to shatter the glass and escape before
any
seriously injur
ies occurred
. With blood running down her arm
, she ran.
T
hings started to fly at her violently, and somehow
what she had concluded was a
poltergeist was able to make physical contact with her despite the beliefs that they couldn’t. Scratches raked down her cheek, dripping blood and burning enough to make her totally aware of it despite the fear
fest she faced.

She
’
d grown used to the apparitions that shared the nineteenth century hotel with her, and had learned to coincide with them harmoniously up until now.
For the most part
the premonitions she saw and heard were friendly, or just wanted attention and to be noticed. The grand
ballroom
that once
was
filled with couples dancing on the old wooden floor was now
occupied
with the same crowd and music
—only in a more translucent form than before.
She had stepped into the room on many occasions and been knocked smack dab in the middle of a formal ball, going unnoticed as couples walked around and through her carrying on. The strange thing was, she hadn’t been startled in the least. Her entire life she had experienced contact of all sorts with things of the unknown. From early on, Zarah had been different, but chalked it up to having more intuition than others.

Now, clad in
nothing more than
a black bath towel, she stood out at the end of the driveway shivering, waiting for Jessa. Between the smorgasbor
d
of paranormal magic fairytale stuff the huge group all contained, surely they could figure out how to rid the only place she could afford to live of the dead people, right?

The longer she stood there, the more frightened she
became
. It was in the middle of the night, and here she stood like some overzealous hooker already cleaned, naked, and ready to go.

Ok, I have to stop. I live in a great neighborhood. The small little town is safe. Nothing happens here, ever. Maybe it does...a
nd we don’t hear about it? Or t
he whole town is
involved
in some way like the Hills Have Eyes type deal? Shit! I don’t want to die being dipped in hot wax and left to suffer for weeks or months before my body shuts down.
I have to get out of here now!

Zarah did a little shiver shake, shimmying from her toes to her nose, and back again. Okay, so maybe her addiction to horror movies might have a tad bit to do with tonight.
The ghosts are real, that's a fact…but maybe the evil ones came for help or to hurt because I can speak to them and they understand...vi
ce
versa…

Her neighborhood was a newly developing site, with only a few houses scattered down one road and another in construction. The company that had recentl
y bought the area had demolish
ed most of the old original stores and businesses that had once stood, leaving only a few remaining to add charm to the housing area the
builders
were set to build. The old hotel happened to sit at the end of the street surrounded by woods on two sides, and more than one rubble lot surrounding it. What once was an old church house, was now a pile of wood and stone that was set to be a three bedroom
,
two
-
story house.

Damn spooky if
anyone
asked her.

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