There was a body under a sheet. A woman Renae didn’t recognize sat by the body, babbling to herself.

“Thank you,” the girl who helped moor the boat said. “If I didn’t believe in angels before, I do now.” She was a bottle blond with a very pretty face, but she looked ready to collapse. The same could be said for the crew cut man with her.

“What happened?” Renae asked, her stomach feeling as if molten lead was being poured into it.

“A lot of things that no one will believe,” the girl said.

The woman by the body looked at Renae. “They do kill people. They do!”

The boat cruised across the harbor, putting Ormsby Island in the far off distance. Jessica knew the island would always be there, waiting for her, every time she closed her eyes.

Just remember reuniting the kids with their mothers, she told herself. You’re going to have to try and forget the bad stuff. Fixate on the good stuff.

It was going to be hard, with so much bad to go around.

She nestled into Eddie. He hadn’t said much since they’d left the house, headed for the docks. She knew he’d given her a ton of his own energy to pull her back, to save her life and the souls of all those EBs. He would get better, regain his strength.

“I can’t believe Paul is dead,” she said, low enough so no one else could hear her. She especially didn’t want the kids to hear. They were already distraught. Having to wait on a dock with their dead uncle’s body wrapped in a sheet did little to comfort them.

“Had to be internal bleeding,” Eddie said. “Even if we’d had access to a phone, I don’t think anyone would have gotten to the island in time to save him.”

“Eddie, did we kill him?”

He pulled her closer.

“No. It was going to happen the moment he decided to use the island to make a name for himself. He wasn’t a bad guy. He just had a bad idea.”

Mitch and Rusty sat opposite them, neither talking. Jason and Alice slept with their heads on their mother’s lap. Those poor kids. Sharing Jessica’s gift, this wouldn’t be the end for them. They could either spend their lives fleeing from the dead, or embrace it.

Daphne was a soldier, refusing to let them see her grieve, not just for her brother, but Jessica was sure the marriage was over as well. Tobe kept to himself, quiet, loggy from blood loss and shock.

Or maybe they could get past this. They would all have to try.

She wasn’t sure if Nina would succeed. Because she had a quasi-refined sixth sense, she’d experienced what had happened on a deeper level than most. Eddie said he’d taken a quick look inside her mind and it was a disaster.

“I’m not sure if she can come back,” he’d said. “Maybe, after some time, I can meet with her and find her, try to help her through. For now, she’s gone, Jess. Just, gone.”

Despite the guilt and exhaustion, Jessica perked up when she saw Rusty toss a black case over the side.

Mitch didn’t protest as his partner threw all of their equipment into the harbor.

“It’s better off down there. Maybe the fish can appreciate it,” he said. When he was done, he put his Dodgers cap over his face and slept.

Jessica nudged Eddie.

“I think we better follow Rusty’s lead,” she said, eyeing the three plastic bags. Inside each was one of the Ormsby journals.

“You’re right,” Eddie said. “Some things are better off unknown.”

Together, they pitched the books overboard. The pilot and the woman, Renae, asked them once what they were doing but let it go at that when they saw no one was willing to explain.

Some things were better left feared and avoided.

With any luck, a storm would wash the island away, along with any hint of its dark and terrible secrets.

They spent a good part of the day at the hospital then the police station. Unfortunately for Daphne, she had to bear the brunt of the questioning. While Paul was taken to the morgue, Tobe was admitted to the hospital, as well as Mitch for the slashes on his body and Nina for a psych evaluation. While there, they learned that the knife had been removed from Tobe’s leg and he would be all right. Mitch was quickly released and brought to the station for questioning.

Daphne made it a point to absolve Eddie and Jessica from all blame. Paul died from a fall, an accident. While on the boat, Tobe and Daphne had secretly concocted a story about his accidently stabbing himself with the carving knife, falling on it in the kitchen when he heard Paul go down the stairs.

The police weren’t buying it, but no one else was refuting the story. No one wanted to see little Alice go through one second of questioning. They needed to heal, to grieve. Rusty had talked a blue streak in a reverse sort of interrogation. Finally, the police gave up under his barrage.

“If you want, we can catch a late flight to New York now,” Eddie said as they entered the hotel, the place where the whole madness had started. The air conditioning was overwhelming. Since the EBs had left, she had savored the summer heat.

Jessica and Eddie parted ways with Rusty, Mitch, Daphne and the kids outside the station house. Daphne would be staying in Charleston until everything had been cleared up. She had a very good lawyer friend who promised to take care of everything.

“No one can know what really went on out there,” Jessica said. “If they find out, the place will be crawling with people. As long as the Ormsby’s are out there, no one should step foot on the island.”

Daphne said, “I promise, no one will know.”

It seemed like months, not days, since they’d last been at the hotel.

“As much as I’d like to put Charleston in the rearview mirror, I need some real sleep before I get on a plane. And some food. Wait here while I check us in,” Jessica said to Eddie.

While waiting for her room key, she watched a young mother help her toddler walk across the lobby carpet, the little girl’s hands holding steadily to her mother’s index fingers. The girl took one wobbly step after another, until mom scooped her into the air.

Jessica thanked the desk clerk and pointed at their bags. “Can you have someone bring them up, please?”

“Of course.”

She tapped Eddie with the little white card envelope. “Come on, our bags will be right behind us.”

They took the elevator in comfortable silence.

The elevator pinged and the brushed steel doors opened. She followed the wall directions down the hall to their right, searching for room 507. When she got to the door, she turned to Eddie.

“Just this once, can you please look into my head and tell me why I keep doing this?”

He smiled. “I don’t need to go that far. You do it because you’re curious. You do it because you’re brave. You do it because you care. You do it out of love, both for the memory of your father and for the people you help.”

Jessica said, “I thought we were a mess when we were together, that we made things worse. Don’t get me wrong, we’re still a mess, but a little less than when we’re apart.”

Slipping her hand around the back of his neck, she pulled his head down and kissed him. It was short, soft, with the promise of more to come.

She gasped when Eddie scooped her into his arms, nearly dropping to a knee because he was still weak as a puppy. “The bags can wait.”

She moved the Do Not Disturb sign from the inner door handle to the outer, swinging it closed.

About the Author

Hunter Shea is the author of the novels Forest of Shadows, Sinister Entity, Evil Eternal, Swamp Monster Massacre and The Waiting. His first thriller, The Montauk Monster, was named one of the best reads of the summer by Publisher’s Weekly. Hell Hole, his ode to weird west fiction, was listed as one of the most anticipated reads by The Horror Bookshelf. His obsession with all things horrific has led him to real life exploration of the supernatural, spending nights on The Queen Mary and communicating with the spirit of The White Lady at the Union Cemetery. An avid cryptid enthusiast, he’s exceedingly proud to tell everyone that his novel The Montauk Monster is on display at the International Cryptozoology Museum in Portland, ME.