Darkwood Falls Paranormal Investigators Book One: The Dead Truth

Chapter Eighteen

"Sorry is the Kool-aid of human emotions.   It's what you say when you spill a cup of coffee, or throw a gutter ball when you're bowling with the girls in the league.  True sorrow is as rare as true love." -Stephen King, Carrie.

     The trek out of the cemetery and back to the car was much less eventful.  Maybe the spirits sensed I wasn't about to deal with any more bullshit at that point.  The rain stopped and there was now an eerie calm around us. 

     It was I who led the way this time, walking as fast as my short legs would take me, desperate to get out of there.  I approached the gate that we had come through and shoved it open, letting it swing back after I passed through.  It almost hit Brandon, who caught the gate before it smacked him in the face.  It had not been intentional, but I didn't feel like apologizing to him.

     The gargoyles keeping watch over the entrance did not look as frightening as I passed by them this time.  It was probably because I had just experienced many things way more fucked up than creepy winged-bat-monkey-looking creatures.

     I made my way around the car to the passenger's side door, and Brandon approached the driver's side.  He started fumbling in his pocket for his keys, while cautiously eyeing me.  "You look mad.  Are you mad?"

     I fixed him with the coldest look I could muster despite my face being covered in mud and water.  I don't know how intimidating that really looked.  Probably not at all.

     "I'll take that as a yes."

     Without a word, I grabbed the passenger's door handle and flung it open.  I put one foot in before I heard his voice again.

     "Hey, there might be a towel somewhere in the back so you don't get mud and water in my car."

     "I don't give a shit about your car!" I yelled at him, collapsing in the seat with no remorse.

     "Fair enough. . . ." he said.

     I slammed the door hard, shaking the entire vehicle.  Looking weary, Brandon opened the door to the back seat, pulled out a neatly folded towel, and laid it carefully over his own seat.  He then slid into the car, looking down at the mud that now covered his precious floorboard.  I saw him cringe, but he said nothing.  I was secretly thrilled with myself.  There was silence as Brandon started up the car, and slowly pulled out onto the gravel road out of the graveyard.

     "What was going on back there?  I mean, before we talked to your parents, you kept having these weird reactions to those spirits.  You looked like you were in pain."

     I shrugged and turned my head to watch the scenery out my window so I didn't have to look at him.  "I don't know.  I don't want to talk about it."

     "It seems like something you should mention to Richard."

     "Fuck him."

     "Okay, I should probably stop talking now."

     "Yeah, good idea."

     The car was silent again, and I could feel my rage still bubbling, getting worse the more I thought about the events that had just transpired.

     "You told me they wanted to apologize," I said, finally looking over at my cousin.

     He glanced at me, briefly taking his eyes off the road.  "I did."

     "You lied.  Again."

     "I told them they needed to apologize.  When they agreed, I thought they might actually be sincere."