Have Spacecat, Will Travel: And Other Tails by John Hartness (top ebook reader .TXT) 📕

hopes that the home team would draw more fans, so the windows were easily within reach, if all locked up tight.

“Okay, let’s go do this the hard way,” Sam said, starting up the bleachers and motioning for Jess to follow.

“What are we gonna do?”

“You’ve got a gun. We’ve got glass that needs to get out of the way. I think this will work just fine,” Sam said, reaching the top of the bleachers and putting her hand on the closed window. “Hey wait.”

“Wait, what?” Jess asked.

“This window moved.”

“What do you mean, moved?”

“I mean moved like might be open,” Sam replied. She put both hands on the window and pushed. Sure enough, the old, counterweighted glass creaked and protested, but swung up and out of the way.

“I can totally climb out of here,” Sam said.

“But what’s the drop look like?” Jess asked. She looked back at the gym floor better than ten feet below her.

Sam stuck her head out the window and looked down. “It looks like about—”

“Sam, don’t do that—”

Simultaneous with Jess’s worried shout, the heavy glass slid back down in place with authority, slamming into the back of Sam’s neck and sending a sickening crack echoing across the gym. Jessica screamed and ran to her friend’s side, but it was too late. Samantha’s neck was broken, and her throat crushed for good measure. The falling metal window frame snapped her neck like a twig and left her lifeless body dancing.

Jessica clutched the other woman’s legs, twisting herself around into a sitting position on the top bleacher. She sat there, her arms around Sam’s legs, her face buried in the other woman’s pants leg sobbing for several minutes.

After pulling herself somewhat together and checking Sam’s pulse to ensure that the other woman was, in fact, dead, Jess squared her shoulders and stood up.

“Ready to finish it now, Jessica?” The voice was thin, breathy, like it didn’t come from a body.

Jessica whirled around, looking for the source of the words. “Who’s there?” she yelled.

“Oh good, you can hear me. I thought you might.” The voice came again, this time seemingly from right behind her. Jess wheeled around and lost her balance, flailing her arms wildly as she started to tumble backward down the bleachers. She felt hands come out of nowhere and grab her wrists, her shirt, her shoulders to help hold her upright. It felt like there were dozens of them.

“Be careful, Jessica. We aren’t done with you yet.” The voice came again, and Jessica turned, looking for it. This time she caught sight of something shimmering down on the court.

“Who’s there?” she demanded. Jess stomped down the bleachers, careful to put her feet only on the steps, not on the seats, for better footing.

“We’re all here, Jessie. We can’t leave.” The voice came again, and Jessica saw the shimmer start to take shape. Out of the glimmer of light materialized the misty form of a skinny teenage boy in a gray JHS sweat suit. His hair stuck out at odd angles, and he looked more like a scarecrow than a ghost. But Jessica recognized him in an instant.

“Reggie? Reggie Coventry? You’re the one doing all this shit? You’re the one that killed all my friends? You motherfucker, I’ll send you to Hell!” Jessica charged down the last few steps onto the gym floor and raised her shotgun. She pulled the trigger and racked another shell, continuing her march forward as she sent five shells of rock salt through the shimmering image in quick succession.

“That won’t work here, Jessie. That only works on summoned spirits. This is my house, bitch, and I’m in charge!” The ghost stretched out a hand of light and wrenched the barrel of the shotgun aside. Jessica felt the resistance as if a human hand grabbed the gun, a hand attached to an NFL lineman maybe, or a pro wrestler. She gasped and dropped the gun. It floated for a second, then clattered to the floor.

“Now that we’ve gotten that unpleasantness out of the way, and there’s nobody around to disturb us, let’s chat, shall we?” The ghost crossed his legs and sat, Indian-style, floating in mid-air. A plastic-bottomed chair slid out from the scorekeeper’s table and scooted all the way across the gym floor to rest behind Jessica’s legs. She put a hand back to steady the chair and sat, as if she didn’t trust it not to slide away at the last second.

“Why are you here, Reggie? Why haven’t you moved on? And why did you hurt my friends?” Jessica asked, trying to bring her emotions and breathing back under control. Her chest felt tight, and she could see the beginnings of black spots moving in on her vision. She was seconds away from a full-blown panic attack, and she knew if that happened, she was going to die just like the rest of her crew.

“I get to ask the questions here, Jessie.”

“Jessica. Or Jess. Nobody’s called me Jessie since—”

“Since high school? But you’re back home now, Jessie, where everybody knows your business, and everybody calls you Jessie.”

“You never called me Jessie. You knew I hated it. Why now?”

“Maybe in twenty years I decided I didn’t give a shit what you like, you ever think of that?” Reggie’s form flickered as his voice rose. “Now, I said I’m asking the questions. You answer them all correctly and I’ll let you live.”

“Did you make that offer to my friends?”

“No. They were dead the second they stepped foot in this place. I knew I’d never be able to have this conversation with you if they were alive. You wouldn’t be able to be honest unless I broke you down a little, took away your crutches.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Reggie? You were always a weird little dude, but you were never mean. You were kinda sweet, actually.”

“Yeah, I was sweet. I brought you flowers on Valentine’s Day. Remember? Daisies, because I heard you tell Angela Childers they were your favorites. Then you threw them