"Pull over here," Joey commanded quietly.
Royce did so, leaving the pavement just as the road curved. Out the windshield their destination loomed hideous and glowing on the backdrop of night.
"Someone left the lights on for us," Joey pointed out.
Royce peered closer and nodded. That made it worse. It was an open invitation. Remembered days and nights imprisoned within those transparent walls tugged at his mind. He knew if he were on a more physical plane of existence he'd probably retch.
He turned the ignition off and smirked at the absurdity of the move. Force of habit. The smirk faded as he realized he was sitting in a parked car with a girl. He sat back and looked timidly at his hands in his lap. He studied the pale blue-gray of the left one and the twisted texturing of the right. Coming back to reality he looked over at Joey.
She stared blankly out the window. She wasn't blinking and, to Royce's increasing dismay, she wasn't breathing. Worried, he reached a hand over the wide leathery expanse between them. Before his fingers touched her shoulder, Joey took a deep breath and sighed. She turned her head to give him a quizzical look.
"What's wrong?"
Royce suddenly noticed he had slide closer to her, his hand almost touching hers. "You weren't breathing. That's not good for a living human being."
"I had what you might call a vision," Joey said rolling her eyes casually.
"What was it about?" Royce asked.
Joey shook her head, slightly nervous. She turned to the door. "Maybe we should get going."
She grabbed the door handle, but heard the locks click loudly. She spun around to look at Royce. "What are you doing?"
It was Royce's turn to be nervous. "I don't want to go to that place tonight."
"That's okay. I can go by myself."
"So the Jackal can get at you again," Royce scoffed. "I don't think so. You're not going anywhere without me."
Joey took a breath to suppress her anger, then said calmly, "So, what are we gonna do?"
A number of lewd replies crossed his mind, but they dissipated when she cocked an eyebrow. He was caught off guard by how attractive he found it. "We'll stay out in the car."
"Can you hold this specter for that long," Joey said greatly curious.
"It'll be light in a few hours. I can handle it," Royce assured her. He tried to hide how scared he was. Scared to go back to that house. Scared for her safety.
"Yes, but wouldn't it drain your energy? And with me being here--"
"I can handle it," Royce barked.
Joey's mouth clapped shut. She had never known a ghost's actions to be tinged with fear. Hatred, anger; yes, but never fear. She was taken aback by how attractive she found it.
"I'm sorry," she whispered sullenly and Royce was astounded to feel an aching in his chest.
"Look," he tried smoothing over his earlier tone. "It'll be awhile before we go. Why don't you get some sleep?"
Joey nodded, suddenly looking tired. She shifted to lean against the door.
"Wait a minute," Royce said. Joey shot up and looked at him. "Close your eyes."
She did so without hesitation. Looking at her reminded Royce of being parked on Lover's Lane when he was alive. He pushed the thoughts away. And when Joey opened her eyes, she found herself in the backseat.
"Whoa," she whispered. "Thanks."
Royce ignored her and looked out the window. He wished he had a pillow or blanket to give her, be he never really had a need for one before.
Joey didn't mind. After laying down on the seat, she fell right to sleep.
Joey hated having vision-dreams. They were more vivid than waking visions, which made them more dangerous. Her vision-dreams were usually foreshadowings of things to come. That night in the ghost car was no exception.
In her vision-dream, Joey was walking through the Kriticos house. She ran her fingers along the Ectobar walls. The writing came off on her skin. She heard a knocking behind her and turned around. Dennis was on the other side of the wall. He looked scared as he kept banging on the glass. She ran over and frantically rubbed at the writing. When it was all gone, Dennis gave a final bang on the glass and fell through.
Joey bent to help him up when she saw something out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head and saw the Jackal at the end of the hall. He let out an ear-splitting cackle and began running toward her. She covered her face with her arms and fell backwards onto the floor. After a few moments, the Jackal's screeching died away and her brother disappeared.
Her arms still shielded her face when Joey felt warm, gentle hands. They gripped her wrists and pulled them away. Royce was above her; unscarred; perfect. Astonished, she touched his right cheek tenderly. A small smile spread across his lips. As Royce leaned forward, she closed her eyes expectantly.
Joey's eyes shot open as a cold hand tore through cloth and flesh. No longer was Royce above her. In his place was a blond man with cold, evil eyes. She screamed as his arm came down again. The nails ripped through skin and clothing above her left breast. The man laughed louder and louder until it drowned out the sound of her yelling.
Finally, her eyes opened. She looked around in a confused panic. She calmed when she saw Royce, and grabbed his wrist for support.
For a second Royce thought he saw her as a little girl playing a cemetery with her brother not too far away. He shook the absurd thought off as he looked down at her.
"Are you okay," he asked concerned.
"I'm fine," she said sitting up. "Just a bad dream."
He wanted to ask her what she had dreamt, but she looked so shaken. He decided against it, and against mentioning what she had said in her sleep. He even chose not to question her about the thin lines of blood seeping through her shirt above her left breast. Instead, he opted to change the subject-- and venue.
"Sun's up. We can go when you're ready."
Joey nodded. "I'm ready to go now."
She grabbed her back pack and they got out of the car. Royce pulled his bat through the open window before the vehicle dematerialized in a soft swirl of blue-gray. They stood side-by-side, staring at the house. Then they slowly began their winding ascent toward it.