The Dead Man's Arsenal

Chapter Three

The brown and white puppy chased the little auburn brown haired girl down across the yard. Her laugh and the puppy's joyful yelps created a jolly tune the parents became acquainted with. Her auburn brown hair flowed out behind her in waves. She was joyous as she ran, the puppy dashed into a bush and the girl jumped up and yelped as the puppy ran for her. The puppies tongue lapped out of its mouth in a puppy grin as they ran together. Then something crunched underneath her foot and a horrible smell assaulted her nose as she screamed.
***
That was what that smell reminded me of. The baby rabbit had laid there, underneath my foot its dead body not moving as Baby licked at my hand, trying to calm me. Like she used to until a few years ago when dad kicked her across the room and killed her. She had flown into the wall where an old clock had hung, The clock fell down and stabbed her in the neck. Killing her several minutes after. Dad attempted to sober up after that but, as always it didn't stick. He went back to drinking less than 48 hours after we buried Baby.

The smell hits me harder as I crack the door open enough to see who is there.

The shock rolled through me in waves, erupting into more as his voice came out of him in gasping breaths.

"You found me," He gasped. "Please, Help me."

"Is this some sort of sick joke??" I exclaim staring at the dead man. Who looked awfully dead but seemed amazingly alive.

"No, It is not. When I died they left me there to rot. They didn't realize I was cursed and could come back for vengeance. Yet to get my vengeance I need your help." The guy literally had a foot that looked like it had been in a grave with the skin falling off and the bone making him wobble as he stood in front of me.

"What do I have to do?" I ask the question that has been lurking since we found him. What were we going to do?

"I used to live on a farm. Nice property, crappy place. I lived in an old run down house with an old barn to match. I need you to go there and light the place on fire and I'll jump in. It will keep you from getting in trouble hopefully, it will get rid of my body and all the secrets people don't need to know. We all know people in this town get nosey," The dead body speaking to me had a look of earnest and hope on his face as he looked into my eyes with what remained of his.

"Aaron and I will look into going through with it. In the meantime what are you going to do about you being umm... Well, dead?" I asked this question honestly, I partly expected him to answer with an 'I'll hide here for a while.'

"Out of sight out of mind. You, your friend and I will meet where Y'all first found me. This way we can all plan and get our minds together on it." He was serious, he looked at me with passion about this. What would we do if anyone saw us talking to a dead dude? We would be the talk of the town. Then all over the news with wanted signs framing our faces.

"What if we don't agree to help you? What if we decide we want to live normal lives and let the police handle you?" I ask snappily.

"Then, you will be shown a nice piece of death cake." He growls angrily as he stumbles towards me on his half rotten off legs.

"Touch me I dare you," I growl, I always had a pocket knife on me. Now was no different. I flicked the blade open and rubbed my thumb along the sharp edge, making sure to keep it hidden enough for him to not see it.

"What are you going to do to me, sweetheart?" His voice was gravelly, it was deadly. "I'm ALREADY DEAD!"

I flinched at his raised voice. He may be dead, but Dagonit nobody talks to me like that...

"One. I don't suggest talking to me that way. Two you wake my drunk of a father and we are both screwed. Understand me?" My lip was pulled up in a snarl and my teeth were grinding together, I was beyond angry.

"Last time I checked, you were alive and I was dead. While death has actually treated me kindly I doubt it will do the same for you." He growled back, his face was rotten in so many different places. It was revealing the decay on his teeth. It showed everything right to my eyes. My god did he look bad. A wave of pity rolled over me but passed quickly as my anger hit harder than a freight train.

"How do you know. Have you known me all my life? Did you watch me grow up? Did you watch me change after my mother died? Did you witness what I go through every night? The battle I fight to get out of bed every morning? I think not. I think I will be okay when death hits me, god I might even hit back harder. Cause' 'sweetheart' I don't go down without a fight!" By the end of my little rant, I was screaming, at the top of my lungs, loud enough for my father to wake up. But I didn't care. I needed it. He needed to know, that I wasn't someone that would take his crap. 17 or not. I am a fighter who will fight anything to keep her head above water.

"Be quiet!" He hisses at me. For being a dead guy he sure did know how to press my buttons.

"Like anyone would notice. Right now everyone has their blinds drawn tight, their windows locked. Their children tucked nicely into bed, ignoring everything that happens in this house. They turn a blind eye and ignore us. They started that when my father first hit me. They acted like they didn't notice." I snap back.

"Look here..." He trailed off, he didn't know my name. Just my face.

"Scarlett. I'm Scarlett, the boy was Aaron. You, my dear dead guy, are Arnold Jacobson. You disappeared on the 21st of December. No one could find you. Your son panicked and has been mourning and worrying for 6 months."

"How do you know that?"

"I researched you. I know a little like the police shut your case after two weeks. They said you were an old man and woulda died anyway. Now I suggest you head back to your little resting place so I can be ready for the storm I have to face tomorrow." I put my hand on the door that had somehow closed behind me when I stepped out here, and I opened the door. I walked in backward, one hand still playing with the edge of my knife.

"You know it's dangerous to play with a knife when you're walking backward, right?" I slammed the door in the old man's face as he asked the question. I looked at the couch, sometime during my conversation with Arnold my father had moved from the couch and took a bottle of Jack with him to bed.

I stumbled up the stairs and opened my door, I shut my door quietly and flung myself on to my bed. The springs creaked underneath me as I rolled around and felt for my phone. Finally grasping the small, valuable device I held it above my face. I had a text from Aaron.

"Hey, it's Aaron. You up?"

"How'd you get my number?" My thumbs flew over the keyboard typing back a quick response.

"The bad girl has her ways, the bad boy has his."

His response was cryptic so that's the game I decided to play.

"Just meet me at the park. Or can the bad boy not sneak out?"

"Oh, the bad boy can sneak out. What's wrong?"

"I can't tell you that now. Just meet me there."

Having Aaron meet me at the park was a shot in the dark of telling him this and him not being surrounded by his friends. Tomorrow I would go back to being me. It was no big deal, I would wear my leather jacket and a band tee. I would be fine. I would be back to me. I would be able to be a lone wolf and ignore Aaron. Then when I got home I would deal with the dead guy and tell Aaron what he told me.

As of right now, what matters is getting to the park and telling him a bit of what Arnold said.

I climbed back off my bed and walked towards my wall, I flicked on the light switch. My alarm clock flashed 2:50 AM at me as I slipped on my vans once again and grasped my doorknob. A little butterfly danced the tango with my anxiety in my stomach as I creeped out of my room. There was a board on the right as you step out of my door that creaks. I carefully danced around said board and skipped down the steps in my usual manner, careful not to wake my father or alert him to me moving around.

Walking out in the cold midnight air, I walked to the park to meet stupid... achm Aaron