Amber by Dan-Dwayne Spencer (e book reader .TXT) 📕

Trying to shift my weight to make myself feel better, I grabbed the edge of the seat and pulled hard. The seat-cover ripped, and beneath it, I found a dead body. I could only see part of it, but it appeared to be a dead man dressed in a shirt and tie.

“Arland think. There is no reason a dead body should have been in your seat cushion. You’re dreaming again,” Mr. Dark growled the words.

“No, I’m not,” I replied, then quickly covered my mouth because it came out louder than I expected. No-one turned my way or acted like I’d said anything. Ignoring the warning, I again peered into the seat cushion. His dull, dead eyes stared back at me with a glazed blankness; a gaze looking deep into nothingness.

I jumped up. My sudden movement allowed the loose seat to fall sideways, and the entire body fell out onto the floorboard of the van. It didn’t exactly flop out like a fish would, but rather, it unfolded like a contortionist in a circus act. I marveled at how it could have fit in the little seat. Only one thought crossed my mind: what am I going to do with it? It was far too big to be stuffed back in the cushion.

To my surprise, no one noticed the body sprawled across the floor of the van. They went on as before. Like the proverbial elephant in the room, he lay there in my way, so I grabbed the wall panel and pulled myself nearer to it. The panel broke off in my hand; water gushed from behind it, and another dead body slid out of the wall. He wore a swimsuit like mine, and the corpse was covered in some kind of thick mucus. The van made a sharp turn, and the body slithered across my legs, only to stop sliding when he lay beside the first dead man. I suddenly felt nauseous.

Everyone else continued to talk and laugh as if nothing was wrong. They acted like bodies always fell out of seat cushions and walls. I spoke up, “Don’t you guys see something…anything wrong back here?”

Roger turned to me and gasped, “You’re wearing real clothes instead of your swimsuit.” He tapped Jimmy and said, “The world is going to come to an end—Loveless is wearing clothes.” Laughing, he turned back to his conversation with Flower and Rose.

I did my best to step over the dead men by holding onto the front passenger’s seat, which Rose occupied. I gripped the vinyl piping with my fingertips and pulled myself forward. A loud cracking sound and the back of the seat ripped off. A third dead man fell out into my arms. I instantly dropped him. This one had on the western shirt Jimmy loaned me from his gym bag.

Again, no one noticed. I yelled, “Stop the van.” Flower threw on the brakes, bringing it to a screeching halt.

“What’s wrong?” she cried.

“Look around and see for yourself.” I threw the door open and stepped out. The gravel lining the road crunched beneath my feet. Leaning forward, hands on knees, I felt nausea rush over me. Don’t puke, don’t puke, was all I could think. The taste of stomach acid rushed into my mouth and I gagged—nothing came out. I walked in a circle, trying to pull myself together. Every time I looked back into the van, I saw the same three dead people laying under the seats.

I stepped toward the setting sun and stood at the edge of the gravel lining the road. Standing there, I looked down. In the drainage gully, another dead body lay peacefully recumbent. A woman wearing a nightgown and I just knew she too was dead. She raised her lifeless, blue-tinted hand toward the sky and a star floated down. It landed on her palm. Upon touching it, her body crystallized and shattered into a million snowflakes. Weightlessly, the tiny white doilies floated, blowing in the wind—spiraling up to the heavens.

The star hovered before me, and I reached out and took it. It thrilled me; I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. As the thing glowed in the palm of my hand, I felt strange. I felt powerful. I felt hope. Returning to the van, I touched the three bodies with the star. They too crystalized into snowflakes which floated out of the van and up to the clouds. Before my eyes, dead flesh became a thing of beauty before eroding layer by layer, snowflake by snowflake—leaving no trace of their presence.

Jimmy shook me awake. “Stop muttering in your sleep. You’re talking about finding dead people. You okay?”

I sat straight up. Outside the van, dusk had passed, and darkness covered the world. I checked the seat, no rip. I looked under the seats, no bodies.

Flower glanced up at me in her mirror. “We’re almost back to the commune.” I’m sure she saw my frightened expression. “You okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” I said, and I rubbed the sleep drool from my face. “Just fine. As fine as I’m going to be for the rest of my life.”

I could see her eyes in the rearview mirror. She had pulled her brows together in scrutiny. “Do you need to tell us something?”

“I don’t know, maybe?” I fidgeted, feeling uneasy. “This is all new to me. I’m pretty sure I can’t tell the difference between a freaky vision dream and a plain old nightmare caused by something I ate.” Another thought crossed my mind, maybe it was brought on by my guilt about Kelly Carter. If I’d kept my mouth shut, he would still be alive.

Jimmy turned to me and demanded, “At this point, Arland, you can’t keep things to yourself. We need to know every dream or daydream you have—just in case.”

Flower pulled up beside Jimmy’s Mustang and we all