Shards of Red Glass (A Ghost Adventures Story)

Secrets to Be Kept

Zak's POV

We reach Las Vegas near noon on our third day from Scire Creek. We stop by my museum, and pile out. I take Billy's place in the driver's seat, and Saira slides into the passenger seat. We wave to the others as we drive off, heading home.

"Ask it, Zak." I look over at Saira, and see her staring out the window. Even after spending so much time in Vegas, she still seems amazed by all the colors and people. "What was the grass for?" I ask, not wanting to hinder her explanation any more than I have to.

"It's a gift. From God," she says. At that moment I hit a red light, so I'm free to turn and gape at her. "I tore up a blade of grass. He said to rebuild it, so I did. It turned into this one. Light, Zak," she says, and I turn my eyes back to the road, and drive on, listening to Saira as she describes her dream. Purgatory. God. The broken blade of grass. His warnings and promises.

I get out of the van when we reach my house, keeping silent as my brain tries to process this information. We walk through the front door, and Gracie leaps off the couch to greet us. Saira smiles as she pats Gracie's head. My eyes trace her scars, and latch onto the Band-Aids still on her wrists. Images from that night flash through my mind, and I absentmindedly pat Gracie's head as well.

Saira walks into the kitchen, dropping her bags against the island, and opens the fridge. "What do you want?" she asks, and I reply,"A beer, please." She smiles over her shoulder at me, and grabs two beers from the fridge. She hands one to me, and moves to sit on the couch. I sit next to her, and open my beer.

After taking a sip, I turn to Saira, who watches me. "How can you have dreamed this? And gotten the grass at the same time?" I ask, and she shrugs. "I have no clue, Zak. I've always been strange. Besides, according to the Christians, God works in mysterious ways," she replies, looking out the window at my garden.

"You once said that you were the weapon of good and evil. Do you mean God and the Devil?" I ask, and she nods. "I was created for this purpose. Given gifts by both beings. Being forced to fight their silent war. Lucifer tempts me to kill, while God promises peace for me if I just follow my heart. A bunch of bullshit, I say."

I blink at her, not wanting to speak my mind on this matter. I knew that if I contradicted Saira, then she wouldn't talk to me, and I couldn't stand that. Not after seeing her broken and weak in that bloody bathtub.

"Speak your mind, Zak. I won't not talk to you," she says, echoing my thoughts. "I don't know how, Zak. I just know what you're thinking. Probably another gift God gave me," she adds bitterly, still looking out the window.

"You don't believe in God, do you," I say, more a statement than a question. She shrugs, and finally turns to look at me. I see pain in her eyes, fresh and raw, just like the pain I saw in her green irises that night in the bathtub. My heart stops beating for a second, and my willpower crumbles.

"I believe that there are several things that make this world turn. Lucifer's name is feared, while God's is revered. Hell is seen as bad, and Heaven as good. There's no middle ground. No place that is equal good and bad. Nowhere where people can truly be themselves, and not be judged one way or another." Saira looks back out the window, releasing me from her stare.

I reach out my hand to cover hers, but she doesn't look over at me as she speaks. "Do you know Forest? The spirit I was talking to outside Andromeda's Bar?" I nod, then remember Saira can't necessarily see me. It doesn't matter, though, as she continues.

"He was like me. Well, not I-can-see-ghosts-and-have-scars-from-people-I've-watched-die like me. He murdered someone as well." Saira takes a deep breath, and forges on, her still-bruised throat expanding and contracting as she breathes.