Deadly Lies (Sequel to TBFOWS)

Deadly Lies- Chapter 12

            Letting out a slow breath, I felt us begin to slow down. I watched as we drove into a gated area. Before us, opened up a grand field of healthy green grass. As we drove further in I noticed people standing at certain areas of the grass. A few cars were parked at the entrance and John stopped the bike beside a gray Ford. When he put the kickstand back down, John helped me off the bike and placed the helmet onto the bikes seat.

            Placing my hand in his, together we walked deeper into the field and I realized quickly it was no field, it was a cemetery. The reason I hadn't realize it when we first drove in is because there were hardly any tombstones. Instead, there were tiny name plates engraved into rocks. On the way and I didn't have to ask to know where we were going. I kept my eyes averted to the floor as we passed a sobbing couple. Grounding my teeth, I thought of John, standing here all alone.

            We walked for a few minutes before John jerked to a stop. Looking up, I felt my heart stop. We were standing on a small hill, overlooking more graves. Although there were countless nameplates engraved into stones, one caught my eye. Unlike the other graves, this one was dug up and there was dirt everywhere. John grasped my hand tighter and pulled me towards it. Running, we made it down the hill and to the dug up grave.

            Stopping at the mouth of the open grave, John was like a lighting pole on a winter's night, stiff and cold. Letting go of his hand, I walked ahead, bracing myself for what I would see. Looking down, I clenched my teeth, desperate not to vomit. The coffin was wide open and inside lay a skeleton. Once Johns beautiful mother, the now skeleton had its hands, which once held John, were crossed on over its chest, literally vacant eyes stared back at me. It was obvious that someone had been in the coffin, it appeared as, her once energetic legs following John around the house, were now crushed. The coffin itself looked ransacked.   

            "Oh God, no!" I whimpered taking a few steps back. I heard John move closer and I quickly turned around.

            "Don't." I gasped, putting my hands up. He tried to step passed me, but I stopped him. "Please, John. I don't you to remember her like this."

            His eyes didn't waver from the graves mouth.

            "John." I whispered, pleading. "Don't do this to yourself." I pushed my shaking hands against my face, rubbing furiously. When I put them down, I realized John was no longer in front of me. A wheezing noise behind me forced me to turn around. John was on his knees, eyes staring at his once beautiful mother. His body was shaking all over and his fists were curled around fragile blades of grass. Rushing to his side, I fell to my knees beside him. After a few minutes, I knew I had to find the groundskeeper, we had to find out what had happened. 

            "I'll be right-" John grabbed my hand and pulled me to his side.

            "Don't go, please." His voice was gruff, as though he was holding back a sob. Nodding, I wrapped my arms around his crumpled body and we sat there silently, I watched the sun dip lower in the sky. If I was to look at anything but the sky, the tears that I've been holding back would flow in seconds.

            I felt John shift beside me and I looked down, just as he took his hand off of my mine, he jumped down into the grave.

            "JOHN!" I screamed, both startled and scared. I steeled myself and looked into the grave. John was pulling something out from behind his mothers shoulder blade and then he was climbing out, his eyes dead, just like his mothers. His eyes soulless. Staring, I noticed he was clutching something in his hand.

            "45." John said lifting his hand which held, a piece of paper. Taking it from him, I quickly realized it was the same handwriting as the note that was pinned onto the dress.

            "John, there was note pinned to the dress. It was written in the same handwriting, it had a number as well. 19." I whispered.      

            "Do you have it?" He asked, brows drawing together. Shoving my hands deep into my pockets, I found them empty.

            "No, I must've left it at home." Grasping John's hand, I tried to pull him further away from the grave. He didn't move. I watched him put the strip of paper into his pocket and turn back.  

            "I'm sorry." I heard him whisper and turned back towards me. He wrapped an arm around my waist and towed us to the exit. Turning back, I took one last look at the grave. A cold hand grasped my heart, squeezing the very life out of it. I'm so sorry, Misses Foster. Just as we left, the moon began to rear its head. As soon as we got to the bike, John handed me his helmet and placed a heavy hand on my shoulder.

            "I'll be right back." I noticed that his powerful walk from before had turned stoic. Putting on the helmet, I watched as John approach a man dressed in green overalls. The harsh light from the building beside them illuminated the plot of land they were standing on. After a few minutes, John returned and the man dressed in green overalls walked off towards the direction we had come from. A dreadful feeling began to worm its way up my spine, a feeling that we were being watched.

            "John-"

            "He's here." John hissed, looking into my eyes. "I'll kill him."   

            Together, we got onto the bike and John started the engine. I hadn't noticed the uncanny silence until the engine cried to life. Wrapping my arms around John's torso, I closed my eyes and begged for the arctic, bitter hold constricting my chest to melt away, but it only intensified the closer we got home. We were running out of time.