Helltown - Jeremy Bates Page 0,9
black marker on the chest of his white long-sleeved shirt.
“A black-eyed pea, dude.” Noah nodded at Austin and Cherry, who had gravitated toward Jeff and the others, and said, “Those two are a nightmare together.” He was speaking quietly so only Steve could hear.
“Fun drive?” Steve said.
“How about I drive you and Jenny back. Jeff can deal with them in his car. We almost crashed into an eighteen-wheeler when Austin was getting into that stupid box.” He took another swig of wine, glanced about at the trees and vegetation deadened by the mist, and said, “So what’s the deal? Why’d we pulled over here?”
Steve shrugged. “First stop on the haunted Ohio tour.”
“Can’t believe we agreed to this.”
“Hey, you never know—we might actually see a ghost.”
“Yeah, and Austin will get through the night without spewing.”
“I’d put my money on seeing a ghost.”
“He’s already had four or five beers in the car.”
“Maybe he’ll puke on a ghost. That’d be something.”
Jeff released Austin from a headlock, kicked him in the ass, and hooted with laughter when Austin whimpered. Then Jeff clapped his hands loudly, to get everyone’s attention. “Okay, listen up, ladies and dicks,” he said, immediately commanding attention the way he could. “This bridge—it’s called Crybaby Bridge, and it’s the real deal.”
“Why do I feel like I’m being sold blue chip stock?” Jenny said.
“Snake oil,” Mandy said.
“I’m being one hundred percent legit,” Jeff said. “Hundreds of people have verified that this bridge is haunted. Verified, pussies. And if you want to—”
“How’d they verify it?” Steve asked.
“With those spectrometers the Ghostbusters use,” Noah said.
Jeff darkened. “Will you two twits listen up?” He dangled his car keys in the air. “This is my spare set. I left the other set in the ignition.”
“Why would you do that?” Mandy asked.
“’Cause the legend goes, you leave your keys in the ignition, lock the car, and take off for a bit—”
“How long?” Mandy asked.
“I don’t know. Ten minutes.”
“And go where?”
“Down the bank to the river, I guess. Fuck, Mandy, who gives a shit? We just have to be out of sight of the car. Then we wait ten minutes. When we come back, the car should be running.”
“You’re serious?” Steve said.
“As a snake.” Jeff stuffed the spare keys in his pocket and started down the bank to the river.
Steve glanced at Noah, who shrugged.
“As a snake,” Noah said, and followed.
CHAPTER 2
“It’s Halloween, everyone’s entitled to one good scare.”
Halloween (1978)
Thick colonies of blood-red chokecherries and bracken fern and other shrubbery overran the bank, so Steve couldn’t see where he stepped. He lost his footing twice on the uncertain terrain, but didn’t fall. He called back to the others to be careful. A second later Austin stampeded past him, his arms pin-wheeling. Steve was certain his momentum was going to propel him onto his face. However, he crashed into Jeff’s back—on purpose, it seemed—which brought him to an abrupt halt, his beer sloshing everywhere.
“Thanks, mate,” Austin said jocularly, slapping Jeff on the shoulder and sucking on the foaming mouth of the bottle. Lately he’d been adopting a British accent when he was drunk because he got off on saying words like “lad” and “mate” and “geezer.”
Jeff scowled. “I’m giving you the bill for the dry cleaning.”
“Fancy rich chap like you can pony up a couple bucks.”
Steve stumbled down the last few feet and stopped beside Jeff, who had produced a mickey of vodka from the inside pocket of his now beer-stained jacket. Jenny appeared next, emerging from the fog like a wraith. She was moving slowly, cautious of where she stepped. Her leather pants clung to her long legs, the black elastic top to her small breasts, outlining the triangular cups of her bra. She frowned at the vegetation as she passed through it and said, “I hope there wasn’t any poison ivy in there. I got it once as a kid. It bubbles between your fingers.”
Steve said, “That’ll make gross anatomy interesting.”
“I know, right? No one will want us on their dissection team if we can’t hold a scalpel.”
“Yo, nerds,” Jeff told them, “check it out.” He pointed to the bridge’s piers and abutments. “That’s the foundation from the original bridge.”
“The original one?” Mandy said, pushing through the last of the ferns. Then, higher pitched: “Oh shoot! My tights!” A good-three inch tear had appeared in the yellow Spandex high on her upper right thigh, revealing white flesh beneath. “Stupid branch!”
“Are you wearing underwear?” Jeff asked.
“Jeff!”
“I can’t see any.”
“Stop it!”
“Anywho,” Jeff said, “the original bridge was an old