Birdie and Wyatt didn't remember what happened after they found Hal Best's skeleton. All they knew was the horrible, stifling silence that followed.
And then they were back at the greenhouse.
They could have ran or sprinted or perhaps even taken a leisurely stroll. But they only recalled their need to get out of the forest and away from the skeleton.
They asked questions like, "How is this possible?" and "How long has he been dead?"
But all of these were silly, of course, because they had no answers.
These were the facts: The skeleton of Hal Best was found in Gwydyr. And the spirit of Hal Best was found in Nowhere.
Birdie needed her sisters and Wyatt needed to find Hal.
There was that something, something, something in the air again. It was growing, building up into a living thing like a thunderhead on the horizon, ready to burst.
They'd just gotten to the fence when Wyatt came to a halt, almost causing Birdie to crash into him.
Wyatt muttered a profanity that Birdie reciprocated when she saw the cause of the traffic jam.
Hal Best stood in the doorway of the farmhouse, a photograph in hand.
He knows, Birdie thought, suddenly and darkly. Because, for the first time, she was near enough to Hal Best. She could feel his energy, strong and pulsing, just like Silas's.
"Wait here," Wyatt said.
Birdie scoffed. "Are you really as stupid as you look?!"
"Please." There was something in Wyatt's voice that made Birdie afraid. Or perhaps it was the weighty burden in his eyes.
She relented. "Fine. But I'm going to go get my sisters and I'll be back."
She wasn't sure why she needed her sisters. All she knew was that if something had to be done that they were more powerful as a threesome.
In complete Wyatt Best fashion, Wyatt walked away without another word.
Birdie swallowed. The wrongness in the air was electric, sending warnings down her spine. She had to force herself to stay where she was and not drag Wyatt back with her.
But her feet were frozen in place as she watched the underwhelming scene before her.
Wyatt lumbered up the sagging porch steps and stood in front of Hal.
They exchanged a few words that Birdie couldn't hear, and then they both went inside, closing the door behind them.
Birdie had never been scared of ghosts before. She'd always thought of them as friends. Sometimes annoying, sometimes rude. But never dangerous.
And yet, the thought of Wyatt inside the house with that thing made her want to vomit.
She'd seen Hal's skeleton and somehow that made everything worse.
She had to find help.
She had to get to sisters.
~~~~~~~~~
Wyatt sat across from Hal at the too-dark dinner table. He hadn't been here since his first night in Nowhere.
Now that he knew Hal was a ghost, things made much more sense. Hal's random disappearances, the lack of lights, the breakdown of the house, and the way he rarely ate food. Now that he thought about it, Wyatt had never actually seen Hal eat at all.
No sounds filled the house except for the tik tik tik of an old clock somewhere and the occasional creak of the house.
Wyatt had half expected for Hal to possess him or kill him or haunt his dreams for finding out his secret. Instead, Hal offered him coffee.
Presently, Hal poured the strong-smelling liquid from a percolator with a distinct ring of slimy mold around the spout, guiding it with a hand that Wyatt now noticed to be too pale and too waxy.
Hal handed Wyatt the mug that had several chips out of it, which would have been a drinking hazard if Wyatt actually intended to drink it. Nonetheless, he accepted it.
"Now you see why I need the forest," Hal said.
"So you can find your body?" Wyatt asked.
"No."
"Then I don't think I see why you need it."
Hal traced his finger along the metal percolator, which would have scorched the flesh of any living person. Hal, of course, didn't even notice. "Because there are things in there that I need to find."
"What kind of things?"
"My son, for instance," Hal replied.
Wyatt recalled the picture of Hal, the woman, and the baby.
Realization dawned on him clear and blinding, as if the sun had forgotten to rise slowly and instead simply appeared in the sky all at once.
"Silas," he murmured. "Silas is your son."
Hal nodded once.
That explained Silas's outburst when they found the picture. He'd remembered who Hal was. But it didn't explain why Silas was angry. Did that have to do with Hal too?
Wyatt swallowed, his throat raw and scratchy. "But he's a ghost too. You're both..."
His words faded, unnecessary to finish.
Hal's lips twisted into his cruel, rueful smile. "Thank you for the reminder."
"So what happened?" Wyatt asked. "What's going on?"
Hal sat back in his chair, eyes distant.Tired. And for the first time, Wyatt could see him for what he truly was.
The left side of Hal's skull was bashed in; some of his teeth were missing. His shoulders were too bony to be human, with his flannel--the same flannel that had been on his skeleton--barely clinging to his gaunt form.
"I was fifteen when I met Elvira," Hal said. "She was at a boarding school in Holland, back in '36. We dated for two years and I knew, I knew, she was the one for me. Red hair, a quick tongue, and such compassion that she could make anyone smile just by looking at them."
Hal's words weren't soft or loving as he spoke of this woman. They were cynical, as if mocking the thinking of his youth. He went on, "Then, in '38, Elvira got pregnant. The same year my mother got pregnant with you."
Hal paused to look at Wyatt, who was sitting very still just then.
There was fact and there was fiction. Surely this was the latter. Surely Hal wasn't--
"We're brothers," Wyatt murmured. "You're not my uncle."
Hal snarled a laugh. "I'm not your anything, boy. As soon as Elvira and me came out with the truth, we were cast off like an old coat. You knew our father...would rather kill himself than muddy our good name."
Our father.
Wyatt was very cold, suddenly. It was as if the well-oiled gears that kept his mind running smoothly were quite rusty and he couldn't keep up.
He had a brother and that brother was Hal Best.
How had he never known? How had he never been suspicious? Even now, thinking back through his life, there was never a secret drawer of pictures or a topic his family never talked about.
But there had to be something Wyatt missed all these years--a missing piece in their seemingly perfect life.
As if reading his mind, Hal said, "They erased me from their history. It's regret that brings the dead back to life, you know. But if there's no regret, the dead stay dead."
"So what happened to you and Elvira, then?" Wyatt asked.
"We were seventeen-years-old, pregnant, trying to find help in a city at war. We starved, we foraged, we built shelter in the streets, had a baby during an air raid. It went on for six years. We thought the war would go on forever. Maybe if I'd known it would end the next year, maybe..."
His voice faded, haunted.
Tik, tik, tik went the clock in the background.
"We fled to the hills once the American troops moved in. That's where we found Gwydyr. We thought it was just a forest at first, but once you're inside, you know it's anything but. The taste of magic. The promise of hope."
For the first time, a soft, almost loving smile came across Hal's face. "There was peace to be found there, we knew it. But then the forest told us that something had to be sacrificed to awaken it." Hal's tone shifted again, getting farther away, and he wasn't even making eye contact with Wyatt anymore. "It was desperation to save her that drove me to kill my son."
Wyatt's stomach twisted with revulsion. "You killed Silas?"
"I did it for her!" Hal pounded his fist on the table, rattling the coffee percolator and the old china in the cabinets. The sound echoed through the house before fading.
Hal stared at the table, features wild with anger and pain and grief. "She didn't understand. Didn't understand that we were all dying anyway."
"Did the forest accept the sacrifice?" Wyatt asked, still numb from the shock.
"I wouldn't know," Hal said bitterly. "Elvira went mad. She called me a monster and took a rock to my head. I might've been able to survive if I wanted to, but I chose to die instead. As fate would have it, though, I was forced to show up here in this blasted town and live a life worse than the one I had before."
"And what about Elvira?"
"I can only hope that witch was sent to the labyrinth, but I don't know. All I know is that the forest has everything I've ever wanted and that it's my turn to collect due payment."
Before Wyatt could respond, Hal pulled out a shiny, old-fashioned revolver.
Wyatt recognized the weapon. He'd learned about them at Brambleby in history class. Had they been used in the Civil War, or was it the first world war?
Before he could decide, however, a shot rang out and Wyatt toppled from his chair.
Bright stars appeared in his vision before everything faded to black.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hey everyone! I think I've bitten off a little more than I can chew this month, lol. Between finishing TSoN, doing NaNoWriMo, editing "Good Things I'll Never Do Again", and starting a new job...I'm going a little crazy XD Sooo, although there won't be new chapters twice a week, I will try my best to keep posting at least once a week! So sorry, I know you were all looking forward to the rest of the story! But it'll come...if now slowly =P
~What's you think of Hal's story?
~General thoughts?
~Did you have a fun Halloween? ^_^
Thanks so much for reading! Don't forget to comment, vote, and share!!