A Haunting Dream
From Berkley Prime Crime
I crawled out of the ditch as quickly as I could, my heart pounding, the ghost ship pushed from my thoughts like yesterday’s high tide. I’d almost fallen right on the person. It was hard to tell for certain in the dim light, but the face looked like it belonged to Chuck Sparks.
Nothing but Banker determination made me go back to the ditch and try to decide if he was still alive. I got down close bedside him. I wasn’t a doctor, but I couldn’t feel a pulse. He felt cold. His body was stiff to the touch.
I used the light from my cell phone to look at him more carefully. It was Chuck. He was covered in sand as though he’d been rolled in it. Had someone buried him and the tide had shifted the sand?
I tried using the phone to call someone for help. No signal. At that point, it was a better flashlight than a phone. I didn’t want to leave Chuck alone but I had no choice. There was only so much I could do to help by myself.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I have to go. I’ll be right back with someone who can do something for you. Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”
As I started to get to my feet, his hand moved, clutching at my skirt beside it. His ghastly white face turned and looked at me as it had in the previous vision. “Help her.”
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