GRYDER'S COVE TALES: HOWLERS

the voice in the board...

"So how do you wanna do this, Gail?" asked Olivia from across the motel room where she was putting some food away in the small cabinets above the kitchenette sink. The two had just returned from a trip to the store for breakfast items and a few things for later. Gail sat in a chair by the small table and propped on her elbows.

"This thing isn't like the ones they mass-produce, so it won't take both of us to make it work. I'm surprised the F'n thing doesn't just start working on its own."

"God, that's creepy."

"Yeah, tell me about it," said Gail absently as she stared at her backpack in the corner where the board lay silently waiting.

Waiting?

Yes, it certainly seemed to be....waiting and listening, knowing what was to transpire in the coming hours. Gail's gaze was fixed on the backpack, her surroundings falling into a hazy silence as she recalled that night at her house when the board first spoke. Her flesh began to tingle and crawl, her breathing slowed to nothing, and her blood went suddenly ice cold. A hand grasped her shoulder and she gasped as she wheeled around to see Olivia handing her a paper plate of microwave waffles and sausage links, which she almost upset when her hand shot up defensively.

"Oh! Oh shit, sorry!" said Gail, taking the plate and catching her breath, "Guess I'm a little on edge right now."

"It's OK, I get it," Olivia smiled, "I'm trying my best not to just bury my head in a pillow and cry. I can imagine how you must feel right now, especially after that dream. You said it was that Edgar Briggs guy Barnett James told us about, right?"

"Yeah, him and a few hundred other people Elsie Gryder apparently killed or tormented. One more dream like that, and I'll be bunking with Billy Randall at Adams Institution."

Olivia took two bottles of orange juice from the mini-fridge and cracked them open, handing one to Gail as she sat on the other side of the table. They ate and drank in silence until both had finished the last of their meals, then Gail collected the plates and empty bottles, insisting when Olivia tried to do it herself.

"You prepared this glorious feast, so I'll handle the arduous clean-up," smiled Gail, turning and stepping three feet to the wastebasket.

"Done deal. Well, I guess we should concoct some sort of plan for tonight, huh? We need a battle plan in case something goes wrong."

Gail was putting on a confident front, diving right into the subject at hand and being the authority figure, just like on the job, only her job never involved the possibility of being dragged kicking and screaming into a supernatural realm, attacked by, shit, who knows, little crawly things with needle-like teeth? Goblins? Demons? Worse? Her ruse was bullet-proof, iron-clad, unshakable and rock-solid...and Olivia saw right through it. She felt the fear Gail was feeling, along with the reluctance and the anxiety, but was determined to help just the same.

"I think I have a good idea," said Olivia, returning to her laptop and her browsing, "I hide behind the curtains with a bat, and if anything tries to take you, I'll jump out and whack the shit out of it!"

Gail tried not to smile. No dice.

"I'm serious, Liv. Geez. Alright, how about this: I contact the voice, try to get my answers. If anything goes wrong, you be ready to grab it and toss it outside. That's about the best thing I can come up with. Why are you looking at me like 'what the fuck'?" Gail inquired, hands out in mild frustration.

"OK, I've been looking up witchboard stuff online, right?"

Olivia reached over onto her bed and retrieved her laptop, handing it to Gail.