+18 - GHOST of ME 1 - Alex and Claire Corban lead ordinary lives in their small town. Until their family past catches up, forcing them to face supernatural events that will change their lives forever. -- draft UNDER **HEAVY** REVISION --Please let m...
Dave Graham reached the stream and stopped with a tired sigh. He scanned the other side with his flashlight, thinking it was all for nothing. They'd never find the Thompson boy like that, but it was the least he could do for Lou and Sarah.
He'd set up a good search in the morning, and ask Mayor Dickinson to give the day off to some of the city staff if they needed more men. And he'd turn the hospital upside down, along with every house in town, too. A sedated boy with a concussion couldn't just play Lazarus like that and vanish.
"Talk to me, boys," he said on the radio.
The others replied in order, one by one. And all of them said the same: nothing, no traces, no clues.
"Why am I not surprised," Graham grumbled to himself.
At the police station, Claire sensed Ollie's frustration when they heard the others over the radio. He pushed his chair back roughly.
"Shit!" he snarled. "I'm going crazy here, doing nothing!"
"Y'know? I was thinking," Claire said softly. "They went north and west, right? But what about the south?"
Ollie looked down at her, frowning. "You think?" he muttered.
The girl shrugged. "I don't know. But we've got nothing to lose trying."
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Rob rubbed his arms, shivering. He was so cold he couldn't keep his teeth from grinding, and yet, he was sweating. He let out a muffled groan when his bare foot stumbled on a rock.
He didn't know where he was, or where he was going, or how he'd gotten there. He was almost convinced it was a dream, but he couldn't wake up.
His muddled head was full of unrelated recollections, mixed with vivid sensations. The loud pounding of music, the bitter taste of Clyde's ale, and overwhelming pleasure that had nothing to do with drinking with his friends.
Where was he? What was this old dirt road across the woods?
His jeans were soaking wet up to his knees after fording a stream. Its name floated for a moment in the haze of his mind. Little Sandy? The clouds reflected light up ahead, he had mountains on his left and nothing past the trees on his right. Meaning the lake was on his right? So he was south of town, heading north? Little Sandy! What the hell was he doing so far from home, on foot and half naked?
The headlights shone out of nowhere, right in front of him, blinding him. He stopped and raised his arm to shield his sore eyes. The road seemed to move under his numb feet. Everything spun around him before going black. He didn't hear the voices calling out his name. He didn't even notice he'd crumbled down.
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