black. Christopher’s cries echoed off the cold metal walls. He could see nothing, but he could feel the body inside the drawer. Was it moving? Was it breathing? Christopher reached back and felt the skin of the body’s hands peeking out of the sheets. They were cold and lifeless. No electricity. And that smell. He remembered that smell from his father’s funeral. It was like talcum death. Was it alive? Dead? Christopher focused his mind. He had to find a way out. He reached down and patted his own body.
The phone.
He almost forgot. Mrs. Collins’ phone. It was still in his pocket, right next to the hissing lady’s key. Christopher turned on the phone. The light reflected off the metal drawer, making it glow. He looked to his sides. He saw old, withered hands. And no bars on the phone.
The light went dark.
Christopher turned the phone on again. He looked back down. The hands were palm-side up now. The body had moved in the darkness.
The phone went black. Christopher turned it back on. The hands were moving.
Twitching. The fingers reached up. Brushing against the back of Christopher’s neck.
“Chrisssstopher,” the voice whispered.
Christopher screamed. The corpse sat up.
“What’s my name? Give me back my name, Christopher.”
Mrs. Keizer’s hands went around Christopher’s neck. Christopher fought back against the old woman, but her grip was inhuman. He felt the air leave his body until a voice boomed through the morgue.
“NO! HE’S MINE!”
The morgue fell silent. Christopher felt Mrs. Keizer’s hands leave his neck. The drawer opened with a click and slowly slid back into the room. Christopher looked up and saw the eyes staring at him from the center of the morgue. Bloodshot and black. The face was pure evil.
It was the sheriff.
“Why did you kill her, Christopher?”
Christopher was stunned. The sheriff looked so hateful. His skin pale and waxy. The whisper scratched his hand. He had already broken the skin. He was going to scratch his way to the bone.
“She was only a little girl. Why did you kill her?”
“I didn’t, sir. Please.”
“Why did you kill him? He was just a little boy,” a voice said.
Christopher turned. He saw Ambrose Olson rise off the gurney. His eyes black with rage.
“I didn’t kill David, sir. We can still save him!” Christopher pleaded.
The sheriff and Ambrose reached down with powerful arms and lifted Christopher out of the drawer. Struggling for their sanity.
“You kill her every time I go to sleep. I can’t watch her die again. I have to stop you before you kill her again!” the sheriff yelled.
“You kill David every time I go to sleep. I can’t watch my brother die again. We have to stop you before you kill him again!” Ambrose hissed.
The sheriff held out his hand to the group.
“Somebody give me a gun,” he said.
The security guard handed his gun to the sheriff. Mr. Henderson took Christopher’s right hand. The doctor and Nurse Tammy took the left. Mrs. Keizer rose out of the drawer, the vertebrae of her spine curving like a vulture. Ambrose backed through the crowd and joined the sheriff. They stood with their backs to the exit door. The rest of the morgue stood behind Christopher. The sheriff raised his gun.
“You brought this on yourself,” the sheriff said. “This has to end now.”
With those words, the sheriff pulled back the hammer and shot four times. Christopher felt the bullets whiz past his ears on their way to hitting the doctor, Nurse Tammy, Mr. Henderson, and Mrs. Keizer. The four fell back into the mob, blocking their way. The sheriff grabbed Christopher and brought him through the exit doors. Ambrose quickly locked the mob inside the morgue and turned to Christopher with a gentle hand on the shoulder.
“Come on. We need to get you out of here.”
Chapter 112
Mary Katherine sat in the backseat of her father’s Mercedes, looking out the window. It was quiet outside. The roads were empty. The Christmas lights twinkled on every house and storefront. But it didn’t feel like Christmas. It felt eerie. Not a soul in sight. Just the smell of those fires far away. She would have said so, but her parents hadn’t spoken a word since they took her out of the hospital, and she wasn’t going to say the wrong thing to make them turn around now.
“We’re here,” her father said calmly.
The Mercedes turned into the church parking lot.
Mary Katherine looked up at the church. It was especially beautiful tonight. An oasis in the middle of the eerie night sky.