As they barreled toward the scene of the crime, Mark noticed the vehicle was having problems climbing the hill. It must've been a pinhole leak in the radiator hose: a little steam was coming from under the hood. Each drop of rain was doing its part to keep them reaching Ray Macpherson. Mark looked down at the creek-- it was still right there, on the edge of flooding. Still running brown and smooth over the rocks.
"There," Mark said, breaking an extended silence, "it looks like someone was living down there." He pointed to what appeared to have been a bulldozed-over cabin.
"Where?"
He saw the dirt road that led to the ruined cabin then steered onto it and followed it down until the precipice, weather and the car's fragile condition combined made him too nervous to continue with the car.
"Why are you stopping? It's pouring."
"I'm worried that our only means of escape might get stuck or the creek flooding. We should've walked the whole way down. They got out of the car and walked down the muddy hill. They were soaked by the time they got to the jeff cabin.
The property line was posted with signs: NO TRESPASSING. Some cat named Tommy Binder, Esq. signed them all.
They both checked the place out. It was bulldozed over all right-- the rain was falling into the ruts left by the machine. A number of trees were knocked over too-- no doubt to create an attempt to create a blind that would prevent people from seeing and exploring what was at the bottom of the hill for awhile. Monsters had been here at the bottom of the hill.
There was a shed still standing, its green fiberglass roof blowing in the wet wind. They saw one of the cabin's walls was still standing, sort of. They saw the cabin had once had a small cellar that was now flooded.
"What a fucking mess-- I guess we ought to look around," Mark said.
Dennis immediately went for the flooded basement area, stopping on the stairs-- after going ankle deep in the murky pool; "Hey, man," Mark began, "those stairs probably aren't real strong......"
The stairs must've given out because Dennis fell through, disappearing for a moment before coming back up-- gasping and gagging up brown water.
And then the dead began to dance in the dusk that was just beginning to settle over Kurtzville.
A very dead and very gray hand rose behind Dennis's head. What with the full moon and all that had just poked its way over Smithville Peak, it was positively surreal. Flesh hung downward and loose from the hand that was floating and bobbing just behind Dennis, just out of his vision until he felt something bump against his leg and he turned to see what it was. Dennis saw the corpse and panicked-- frantically swimming to the broken stairs which broke again as he tried climbing up.
Mark recognized that it was a good idea to get Dennis out of that pit before he drowned; he braced himself against the ledge and put out a helping hand which Dennis grabbed as soon as he could. He felt the pain coming as soon as Dennis grabbed his hand; electric fucking pain shot through his body (he should've paid more attention to that twinge!) as soon as Dennis tried pulling himself out using Mark as his brace. A nervous system shortout. Mark involuntarily dropped Dennis who then fell back in, causing the newly discovered body to bob in a more animated fashion. Mark rebraced himself and used his better arm. Dennis climbed out, soaked with what could be diseased water. Mark looked down at his own shoulder which was now hanging loosely by his side.
"Maybe we should both go to the hospital, sorry about that drop, it's an old softball injury, Mark said. "No kidding," Dennis replied disinterestedly while he stared at the headless corpse which was floating in a circle on the surface. Someone must've tied it down-- because someone tied a rope around the headless body's now bloated gut.
The water must have been cold: Dennis was beginning to shiver from the chill and quake from that final realization that the hunt was over and the results were what he expected but certainly not hoped for. He just stared into that pool, watching the body spin slowly in a slo mo circle. He was losing coherence.
"That's him, Jesus fucking Christ that's my dead brother." Dennis walked to one of the number of huge decaying oaks that lay around the property and sat down. He was sobbing like a just beaten up kid.
Mark looked around the area for something he could use to pull the body out of the water. "Dennis, could you do me a favor and pull yourself together-- just long enough to help me find something we can pull him out with, a big stick or something? Something like those body hooks lifeguards use. "
They each sat in contemplative silence for about five minutes before the search for the "rescue" device equivalent began. Mark broke the silence: "Dennis, how you doing buddy?"
"I'm all right, time to get the show on the road, eh?"
"Yeah, I found a tarp in the shed; I was thinking we pull the body to the edge, get the tarp under him and then both of us pull upward. That oughta work.
"This is your kind of business my man ... I pound nails-- don't know a thing about first responder work."
Mark stared into the murky pool (that batch of dead people from Front Street returns for a second in the form of a psychic flash).
"I know you ain't one of them," Dennis continued, "but, man, this was the only relative I had. The only friend I ever had. There might be a point where you are going to have to back off-- you know? Don't worry, if Maureen is involved in this I won't hurt her. I couldn't kill a chick. Just couldn't do it. But the rest of those muthafuckers are fair game the way I see it."
"As long as you don't hurt Maureen I could care less what you do and I'm gonna forget you even made that statement. I don't want to be testifying against you down the road."
"Just wanted you to know what's going on. "
Mark moved on to another subject. "One of us is going to have to go into the water so we can get the tarp around the body and push from underneath. That cool with you?"
"Yep."
He climbed into the water after dropping the tarp into the pool. "I'm going to have to go under for a second. When I come up the body should bob a little. Pull hard, use your legs. If the body starts falling apart, I'm bailing out. I don't want its bones piercing my skin, you can catch some awfully nasty shit from the broken bones of a rotting corpse.
Dennis nodded. Taking a deep breath, Mark went under.
Dennis pulled and they were able to lift the putrid corpse to the good step easily enough. Dennis pulled it out completely with a heave and a wail.
Mark got out of the fetid pool as quickly as he could.
They both stared at the corpse-- some kinds of strange looking water insects were burrowing their way through the gray flesh of the headless body. Mark noticed there was some kind of weird looking maggot on his leg and he shook it off spasmodically, again experiencing the pain in his shoulder. It was now close to dark.
Dennis wrapped the body more carefully for transport and Mark rummaged through the Goat's trunk, finding some towels and grabbing some beers.
Back at the ruined cabin they both began shivering.
"About the same height as your brother?"
"It's him."
"Something tore his head off. That's not a sword or axe. Whoever did this..."
"Whoever in your family, in that church you're mixed up with," Dennis interrupted- reminding Mark how tightly the ties that bind tie.
Darkness and madness were closing in around them. Mark had heard enough and he exploded.
"Shut the fuck up! What do you want me to do go back to Philly and tell somebody that there are murders going on up here?
"Now do you want to help me get this guy-- your brother-- into the trunk? I say we get him back to the Improper and we plan our next move. I think it's best we keep this whole thing close to the vest and deep, deep underground. How bout you?"
"Yeah, that's the right idea; after we get Ray's body into the car we should dig around the trees, Ray used to deal a little grass on the side and he usually kept his stashes outside of the house somewhere. He was as good as people get when it came to hiding things from the man."
They hauled the body up the muddy hill and put it in the open and waiting trunk. Then they returned to the cabin site and began the search; it didn't take long for Dennis to find a plastic case, wrapped in duct tape. Dennis cut through the tape and they discovered that it contained cassette tapes.
It was time to return to the Improper.
"I guess it's time to kick back, drink a few beers and listen to how Doctor Ray Macpherson spent his last days in search of your family's jealously kept... and insane secrets," Dennis said before trailing off to sip on his beer.
The car had problems with the cooling system but Mark took it easy and the cooling temperatures helped. He nonetheless kept a careful eye on the temperature gauge.
"Is it alright?" Dennis asked.
"Yeah it should be okay as long as I take it easy."
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