TWO SOULS: INTO THE FIRE
"Hey," Terry hollered into his phone. "Is that you, Steve? Hello?" He was still half asleep, and confused, but kept on yelling, as he could hear Steve making noises. Finally, Steve heard him, but he'd dropped his own phone, when he fell. He could hear Terry, somewhere in front of him, so he felt around in the dark, until his hand brushed against the phone.
"Terry," Steve croaked out, then coughed, as his stomach roiled, almost making him sick. "Terry, find him. Tell him I didn't mean to hurt him again. Make him come back."
Frowning, Terry asked, "What the hell, Steve...what's wrong? I don't know what you're talking about...slow down."
"Ghost...I need him...and I'm drunk...and you have to go get him," Steve said.
"Where is he? Are you at home?"
"Yeah, and he's at Kinsey's, unless he's gone. Please don't let him be gone."
Then, it registered what Steve had said...that he'd hurt Ghost again. Terry immediately remembered that other time when Steve had hurt Ghost.
"God damn you, Steve, if you went and hurt Ghost again, you're a dead man. I will personally do it myself," Terry vowed.
"Just go find him," Steve said. "Tell him I'm sorry, and bring him back here, please."
"Oh, I'm gonna find him, but I sure as hell ain't bringing him back to you, you bastard," Terry yelled. He then hung up the phone.
"No...no...wait," Steve cried into the phone, but it did no good.
Terry scrabbled some jeans and boots on, threw on a jacket, and ran out the door, immediately getting soaked from the rain. He didn't really notice much, as he ran down the block to Kinsey's place. He'd remembered to take his keys to the back door, and unlocked it as fast as he could. Standing just inside the hallway, he thought it odd that there was no noise, no lights, no sign of anything wrong.
He wondered where Ghost could be, if he was actually here in the club. First, he looked into the office, and then the bar area, but nothing was out of the ordinary. Looking up to the apartments upstairs, he didn't want to wake everyone, if he didn't have to. Then, he remembered the back room where there was a big couch. He'd slept there many times, himself.
He opened the door slowly, not knowing what condition he'd find Ghost in, if he was even there at all. The room was totally dark, as there were no windows, and the electricity was still out. He strained his eyes, peering into the depths of the room, toward where he knew the couch was located. Taking small, shuffling steps, he worked his way over, hands out, feeling for anything he might bump into.
Then, as his knees touched the couch, he whispered, "Ghost? Are you here?" Feeling around lower, his hands touched something soft...a blanket he figured. Poking some more, he felt an arm. "Ghost..." he said aloud. He gripped Ghost's arm, and shook him. Ghost screamed in pain and shock.
"It's just me...Terry...it's ok...wake up, dude."
Ghost sat up, holding his arm to his chest. He could feel his wrist throbbing now.
"Dammit, we need some light in here," Terry said. "You awake...you ok...are you hurt?" Terry asked in Ghost's direction, as he still couldn't see him.
"I'm awake," Ghost said through gritted teeth. "My wrist hurts, that's all, and you scared me."
"Come on, let's go out to the bar. At least there's a window. Do you have any idea where a flashlight or candles are around here?" Terry asked.
"In the office, I seen some," Ghost said. He reached out until he found the edge of Terry's jacket, and pulled himself up. They carefully walked out into the main room, then down the hall. The thunder and lightning were still crashing outside, and they could see where they were in the bright flashes.
In the office, Terry rummaged around in the desk drawers, finally finding a flashlight. He flicked it on. Ghost sat on the office couch, watching Terry.
"Ok, here's the deal," Terry said. He sat in Kinsey's swivel chair, behind the desk. "Steve called me. That's why I'm here. You wanna tell me what's going on?"
Ghost shook his head, and looked down at the floor.
"Why are you here, instead of at home?" Terry asked.
Ghost shrugged. "'Cause Steve hates me. He told me to go away. He wouldn't even look at me no more." He began sobbing.
Terry narrowed his eyes. "Did he hurt you?"
Ghost didn't answer.
"DID HE HURT YOU? ... GOD DAMMIT, ANSWER ME."
Ghost nodded. "Yeah, but he didn't mean to. It was the omen that did it."
Terry stood up, pushing the chair back hard against the wall. "He's dead. I'm getting my gun. I'll tell you when it's over," Terry said, and stomped out the door of the office.
Ghost was too shocked to say anything. It had happened too fast. He heard the back door open and then slam shut. "Wait...wait..." he screamed. Stumbling as he ran down the hall, he yanked open the door, but Terry was gone.
Thunder crashed again, and lightning lit up the parking lot. Ghost flinched as the cold rain stung his skin, but he splashed through ankle deep water, as best he could, down to Terry's house. "Oh God, oh God...I have to stop him..."
Just as he came to the corner of the building, he saw Terry getting into his car, and backing out. "Stop..." Ghost yelled, as he closed the gap, reaching the driveway right in front of Terry's car. As the car rolled forward, Ghost slammed his hands down on the hood, feeling pain shoot up his wrist and arm.
"What the hell?" Terry yelled, as he braked hard, throwing Ghost off, and onto the pavement. He jumped out, pulling Ghost up. "Get in the fucking car," he yelled, pushing Ghost ahead of him. "
"Don't shoot Steve...don't kill him," Ghost screamed.
"Shut the fuck up," Terry yelled back. He kept driving down the rain slicked highway.
Next part coming soon!
Peace, Love, & Writing