Hello all! I thought it might be fun to send out my first chapter of a manuscript I'm currently working on. It's only about half complete, but moving pretty quickly. This is a story of a girl, Zoe, who stumbles across a murder. But this isn't an ordinary murder, and soon Zoe's life will be turned upside down.
Enjoy!
Chapter
1
“We are going to have to
split up.”
The
statement shocked Zoe. “What? No!” She knew she looked like a gaping fish. They
were in the middle of nowhere.
Her
friend Susie nodded as she folded a map while juggling a flashlight under her
chin. “Yes, Zoe. Only twenty-five minutes left until the deadline, and we only
need three more items. We are so close. Imagine,” she cajoled, “how nice it
would be to spend some of your vacation time in Las Vegas. It would be such a
nice break from work.”
Zoe
moaned at her friend’s tone and tried not to shiver at the image of Susie lit
up like a blond-haired Halloween freak show under the beam of the flashlight.
“It’s so dark out here. What if I get lost?” Twirling a lock of short hair, she
glanced around, but only saw darkness. It had felt like a bad idea to get on a
chartered bus and go on a Halloween night scavenger hunt, but here she was,
doing exactly that.
Tiffany,
the third wheel of the adventure, sidled next to Susie. “You’ve lived here longer
than I have. Come on, Zoe, don’t be a downer. I am going on my own, too. We are
so close to winning this scavenger hunt.”
“I
didn’t know we would be splitting up in the middle of the woods,” Zoe snapped.
She realized she sounded like she was whining, but didn’t care. She was
whining. “It can’t be safe.”
Susie
held out an extra map to Zoe while she shone her flashlight on the surface. She
pointed a painted fingertip toward the middle. “Here is the Boston Cemetery,
and it is only five minutes away down that walking path. You just need to go
there and make a tombstone rubbing from the year 1864. I will go up to
Johnson’s barn to find a pitchfork. Tiffany, you can go to the gas station near
the bus. It says to get coffin nails, which by my estimation means cigarettes.”
“This
is the worst list,” Zoe complained. “Who asks people to walk around at midnight
to find pitchforks, coffin nails, and tombstones?”
“Where
is your sense of adventure?”
“At
home in bed.”
“We
don’t have time for this,” Susie huffed. “We’re going to win, but not without
your help. We did so well on the other items. If we all hurry, we’ll meet back
at the bus in less than ten minutes. We’ll be done before everyone else gets to
the tour bus. We’ll win!”
“Fine,
but I’ll have you know, I don’t appreciate being the one to go to an abandoned
cemetery.” Zoe gazed at the two women with narrowed eyes.
“You’ll
be fine. Now, go! Remember Las Vegas and how awesome it’s gonna to be. Come on,
Tiffany, let’s get moving.” With that, the two other women started jogging away
from Zoe. Their flashlights jumping with each stride.
“Remember Las Vegas,” Zoe mimicked
sarcastically as she pulled her lightweight jacket tighter around her. She’d
run up the trail and find the damn grave. Then she’d give Susie and Tiffany a
piece of her mind, and she would claim ownership of the biggest bedroom in
their Vegas hotel. Shining her flashlight in front of her, she set out toward
the cemetery.
The
Ohio cemetery wasn’t overly large, due to the fact that Boston Township was
nonexistent now. The government had bought out the entire village more than
forty years ago and declared it a natural park. Rumor was the buyout was due to
some sort of chemical spill, but no one could provide positive proof of such an
occurrence. Eventually all the houses were demolished, and the last lingering
soul moved from the city years ago. So, out went the townsfolk and in came the
ghost hunters and paranormal weirdos.
Now you’re one of the weirdos,
her brain teased.
Zoe
shook her head and continued to shine her flashlight on the tractor path
leading to the graveyard. Two minutes later, she illuminated the trail in front
of her with her slim flashlight and stared at the paths that veered away from
each other. She’d been here a time or two before, but didn’t remember the path
splintering off. Taking the path on the right, she walked a few feet, but grew
confused when she came to another fork.
In
front of her, a broken fence rose eerily in the moonlight, and she startled
when she thought she saw a shape move in the darkness. Zoe picked up her pace,
but soon realized she didn’t see the cemetery that should have been right in front
of her. Quickly bringing out her cell phone, she turned on the GPS, and typed
in the cemetery in the search box. Her phone stated she was three minutes away
from her destination.
Shining
the flashlight in front of her, she stared at the screen and followed its
directions. Finally spotting the raised area that protected the old cemetery
plots, she picked up her pace. She put her cell phone in her jacket pocket as
she took in the occupants of the deserted town’s cemetery. A twig snapping
somewhere beside her caused her to squeak in fright. She stopped and listened,
but only the rustling leaves overhead sang to her.
She
told herself it was just her imagination. She knew she had plenty of it. It
also didn’t help that the cemetery was known to be home to an odd satanic cult
or two. Her heart beat faster. “1864,” she repeated to herself. “Find the grave
and get out of here.” She quickly shined her light on the waist high gravestones.
All the years were wrong, so she kept walking in search of the elusive 1864.
Another
sound, a gasp, floated through the cemetery. She whirled to frantically scan
her surroundings for some sign of person or animal, but she could see nothing
in the utter blackness outside her feeble light. She took a deep breath to calm
her jumpy nerves. Circling to shine her flashlight around her, she searched the
gravestones for the needed year. Off to her right side, she spotted a
potential. Quickly walking to the grave, elation filled her as she spied the
date.
She
hit the jackpot! She reached into her purse, grabbed a piece of folded paper,
and scratched a pencil across the paper and gravestone. It wasn’t a
professional gravestone rubbing, but she wasn’t about to whip out a water
bottle, take time out to tape up her paper, get rubbing wax, and create art.
She just needed a date to verify she was in a cemetery in the middle of the
night, by herself.
She
was a fool.
As
she berated herself, another sound drifted from behind her. What was that? A
strange gurgle emanated somewhere outside her field of vision. The darkness
spoke, terrifying Zoe. Her flashlight beam jumped from gravestone to
gravestone.
A
deep voice, a chant, rose from the graveyard, stopping her in her tracks. Zoe
pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. She realized this probably wasn’t her
brightest idea, but she was curious enough to investigate. It was possible
teenagers were in the midst of a Halloween prank, and she was about to go viral
on some punk’s webpage. But if she caught them on camera first, she might be
able to turn the tables.
The
chanting grew louder and more feverish, and Zoe moved forward in search of the
culprit. The smell of something vile and rotten permeated her senses. Suddenly
Zoe found herself standing in front of a man crouching over a body lying prone on
the ground. Leaves rustled around the pair, shifting and whispering. Without
thought, she picked up her phone and pressed her finger on the picture button.
The area lit up with the camera’s flash just as the man raised a long knife
above the body on the ground.
Zoe
screamed as the man slashed the knife forcefully downward. The man’s hands
jerked at the sound of Zoe’s voice, but the knife buried to the hilt in the
victim’s chest. The body writhed and gasped. Horror gripped Zoe, holding her
immobile.
The
man incredulously stared at her as she came upon the scene. His eyes glittered
dangerously, signaling retribution of the interruption. Long, dark hair fell
over his brow and plastered across his gaunt face. Dark clothes hid his shape.
Zoe
pulled her gaze from the man to gawk at the body. The light from the moon
illuminated a young man with bright blond hair who stared sightlessly into space.
He was dead. Her brain barely registered the thought before her body’s flight
or fight response kicked in. She instantly spun around to run and slammed headfirst
into the outstretched arm of a praying angel. She stumbled backward and cried
out as pain sliced across her cheekbone. Lights sparkled across her vision.
Grasping
her cell phone, she ordered her limbs to aid in the escape and sprinted as fast
as she could out of the cemetery. She pumped her arms and legs and flew over
the tractor path. She’d dropped her flashlight in the cemetery, but the nearly
full moon illuminated the path. She ran past the spot where Tiffany and Susie
argued with her, she ran past the field where they pulled a corn husk from, and
she ran past the beaten down sign declaring the road closed to Boston Township.
As
Zoe ran, fear nearly choked her with every stride. Oh my God, I just saw a
murder! Disbelief clouded her brain. Blood dripped down the side of her
face from her run-in with the cemetery statue, but she continued her escape to
safety. She didn’t want to die, and she had no idea if the man followed her.
She didn’t look back for fear of stumbling on the rocky terrain, so she concentrated
on the ground in front of her. Her ears strained to listen for chasing footsteps,
but pounding of her heart made it impossible.
She
tripped over a rock, her phone flew out of her hands, but she wasn’t about to
stop and search for it. She continued to run. Every step she took seemed to escalate
the fear that attempted to claw its way out. She pictured the murdered running
behind her, sinking his knife in her back, and she pushed the thought away. She
steered her mind away from the horrible images and forced herself to
concentrate on the path ahead, not the possibility of the monster behind her.
The
lights of the awaiting tour bus came into view. Zoe used one last burst of
speed to get to safety. The man wouldn’t be idiotic enough to chase her into a
crowded bus, would he? Her side ached, and she knew she was nearing the end of
her endurance. “Help me!” she screamed as she ran closer. “Please! Call the
police!”
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