His spirits sank as he approached the small group sitting on the football field. Tyler Dean was lazily winding a blade of grass around his index finger, his head tilted and a deliberately casual expression on his face. Beside him, Brandon Wasik sat, his large shoulders hunched. He looked up at Sam as he approached, a grin forming on his squashed features. Sitting a short distance from them, her legs crossed beneath her and her back to Sam, was a girl. She turned towards him, a curtain of straight hair falling over her shoulder, and he recognized Julie. She grinned as soon as she saw him.
“Hawkins- didn't know you'd be training with us. Thought they might stick you right up there with the grownups, with big sis running things,” said Tyler. “I guess we should be honoured.”
Sam rolled his eyes, sinking down onto the grass beside Julie, but with a fair bit of distance between them. He probably had been better trained in the skills they'd need for border patrol duty, but he'd been drilled for years on the need for secrecy. It was funny, really, he told himself. Tyler and Brandon were probably looking disdainfully at him because of Allison's reputation, not his father's. Her fast rise from border guard to deputy had, of course, been chalked up to raw talent, honed during the hard times Jericho had faced over the years she'd been there. They had no idea where he and Allison had really gotten their skills. Everyone knew Hawkins as a good deputy, and a good leader, but most of them had no idea of the bigger secrets he had finally imparted to Sam a few years ago.
So he sat, ignoring the looks Tyler and Brandon were sending his direction as he would a mosquito buzzing around his head. Julie, however, had narrowed her eyes. “Don't be an ass,” she said.
Brandon chuckled to himself; Tyler made an exaggerated expression of contrition. “Oh, shit, wouldn't want to offend you.”
Julie fixed her narrowed eyes on him a moment longer, and turned to Sam. “Can you believe we have to start today? I think there's a storm coming.”
The four of them glanced at the sky. It was indeed darkening.
“Anyone know where our leader is? Or who's our leader?” asked Sam.
“I don't know. Scott Nystrom, I think,” she said, as Brandon said, “Looks like he's standing us up. I wouldn't want to train us on a day like today.”
Julie pulled back her hair, holding it off her neck. “I thought Woody was going to sign up?”
“He was,” said Sam, wishing childishly that his best friend had ended up in their group instead of Tyler Dean and his sidekick. “I guess he ended up with a different team.”
“Maybe he got daycare duty instead,” said Tyler. “But I guess he wouldn't either. Not with Daddy picking teams.”
Sam gritted his teeth. “How'd they let you out of the mine anyway?” he asked before he could stop himself.
“What can I say? Someone wanted me,” said Tyler.
“They signed up more of us this year,” said Julie. “The news about Utah is making people nervous.”
Tyler looked annoyed with her for a moment. “Explains how you got picked, Jules.”
Julie merely made an irritated sound.
Tyler smiled at this. Sam sighed. Of course, the more annoyed Julie would get, the more Tyler would be encouraged. He'd seen this between them before- many times, ever since eighth grade. He wasn't eager to sit through more of it.
“Come on, guys,” he said. “We're 'sposed to stop acting like a bunch of idiots now that we're in patrol.”
Tyler didn't seem to hear him. “Really, they must be getting desperate if they let someone in who cried during the seventh grade campout.”
Julie made a sputtering sound. She seemed to be pretending to laugh, but it lost the effect as her eyebrows knit together angrily.
“If Mr. Hubert's stories scare you that much, what are you going to do when all the deer and raccoons and stuff start snapping twigs in the woods?” asked Tyler.
Sam laughed to himself now. “Didn't you almost crap yourself when he told the one about the headless truckdriver?” he directed at Tyler.
Brandon turned, laughing, and pointed a finger at his friend. Julie smiled at Sam, who couldn't help but smile back at her. Tyler's face was more serious.
“Seriously, Jules,” he began. “You'll be so scared. There's lots of ghosts around here. You don't see them when you're working at the day camp, but at night, patrolling the streets and fields by yourself, you're bound to run into them. I just don't think you'll be able to handle it.”
“Ghosts? Oh no, what will I do?” she said with an overdramatic hand to her forehead. Sam grinned, and Brandon snickered.
“You don't believe me?” he asked softly. He was obviously trying for an effect, and Sam thought to himself how funny it was that the sky overhead was darkening, casting them in a shadow.
“This town's full of ghosts. Haven't you heard the stories?” asked Tyler.
“The ones about Bloody Mary and One-Eyed Jack?” asked Julie in a mocking tone.
“Or- the heeeaaad-lessss-truck-driiiiv-er!” said Sam, enunciating each syllable in his creepiest voice. Everyone but Tyler laughed.
“Not those, dumbass,” said Tyler. “The ones from around here. Gracie Leigh, and Old Man Bintner?”
“Those aren't ghost stories!” said Julie.
“Yeah,” said Tyler. “They are. Maybe no one ever told you 'cause they thought you'd cry.”
“Shut up,” said Sam, but Julie had a cautious look on her small features. “What do you mean, they are?” she asked, in what she obviously meant as a skeptical tone.
“You've heard who they were when they lived here-”
“I know who they were! I bought a Mars Bar with my first allowance at Gracie Leigh's. Mrs. Leigh was really nice to me!” Julie's hair whipped around her face as a breeze blew across the field. All four of them leaned back, letting it engulf them.
“I remember when Mrs. Leigh got killed. Everyone was freaking out worse than the bombs,” supplied Brandon.
Sam was quiet. He remembered, vaguely, the time to which they were referring. What he remembered most about that time was being quiet, staying indoors, and wondering every night about the secrets in the house. He'd heard more about Gracie Leigh, and her infamous murder, in the years after it, but at the time, he remembered being inconvenienced as his father had rushed out to find the killer. He had promised to practice football in the backyard.
“But I guess no one ever told you about Gracie Leigh's ghost?” said Tyler.
“No,” said Julie cooly.
“They say she's really pissed 'cause no one ever caught her killer. That's why she can't leave.”
“That's not true. They caught her killer,” said Julie, the conviction in her voice fading as she spoke.
“Well, who was it?” asked Tyler.
“It was...” Julie faltered.
“Jonah Prowse,” said Brandon.
“Or was it?” asked Tyler, grinning at the others' confused faces. “They let him go. Some people still thought it was him, but others weren't sure.”
“If they let him go, it must not have been him,” said Julie.
“Hey, who did do it?” asked Brandon, now puzzled.
“No one knows...except Gracie herself,” said Tyler. “That's why she comes back every night, clanging around the cans in her store and making a big mess. That's why Dale Turner is so weird. He's partly crazy 'cause of her.”
Brandon laughed, but Julie looked unimpressed. “That's stupid,” she said. “I don't believe that.”
“No?” asked Tyler. “Why's Turner so crazy then? Why's he chase kids away from his store with a broom?”
“Because some people-” Julie gave a not-so-subtle nod in Brandon's direction, “try to steal from him.”
“Bull,” said Brandon, but he had a proud sort of grin on his face.
“Okay, you don't believe in good old Gracie, how about Old Man Bintner?” asked Tyler.
“Who's that?” asked Sam dully. He glanced towards the school, wondering what could possibly be taking their leader so long to show up.
“Old Man Bintner used to live on Cooper Street. You might have known him,” he said to Sam. “Near your house.”
“I didn't,” said Sam quickly.
“I forgot, you used to be a hermit. Well, Old Man Bintner lived there for years and years. Probably his whole life. He was a bit of a douchebag, so most of the neighbours avoided him.”
“My father knew him. He said he just liked to do things on his own,” protested Julie.
“Well, that got him screwed. Remember the first winter after the bombs?” Tyler looked around at his reluctant audience. They nodded.
“One night, the temperature dropped really fast. Most people were smart and made fires with whatever wood they had, or went to stay with their friends and shared body heat.” He grinned at Julie, who made a disgusted face. “Old Man Bintner just wanted to be left alone. Next morning, they found him, dead in his own living room.”
Julie's eyes were huge, but she didn't look afraid. Sam thought she looked sad. “That was the first night a bunch of people froze to death?”
Tyler nodded, looking a little embarrassed at the reproachful looks he was getting.
“What does that prove?” asked Sam. “Lots of people died. Lots of people die every year. I don't expect my old teachers and friends from St. Louis to start showing up in my bedroom in the middle of the night and throw cans of spaghetti-o's at my head.”
Julie giggled a little, and he smiled at her.
Tyler watched this with his mouth in an 'o' shape. Shaking his head, he returned to his 'scary story' mode. “He died before we got the windmills. He's jealous of everyone who doesn't have to suffer the same fate as he did. So sometimes, in the houses on Cooper Street, when someone's in a room by themself, especially if it's cold or stormy out and warm inside, their power mysteriously goes out. Sometimes, they even feel a cold hand brush against their neck. It's Old Man Bintner.”
“Come on,” groaned Sam. “I live on Cooper. If that was true, don't you think I'd know?”
Julie still had a doleful expression. Sam guessed she was thinking about poor Old Man Bintner more than eerie gusts of wind blowing out fires.
There was a rumbling in the distance. Tyler looked up at the blackening sky, and seemed to be even more encouraged. “And you know where it's the most haunted in the whole town?”
“Where?” asked Brandon, still obviously immersed in the story.
“The road by Richmond Ranch.”
Everyone was quiet. They all knew the significance of Richmond land in their town's history, and no one wanted to imagine the dead there.
“Seriously, Julie. You wouldn't believe how many ghosts they've got walking around there. Ghosts from Jericho, ghosts from New Bern, even a couple Ravenwood ghosts...”
Sam glared at him. Even Brandon had fallen silent. His father had been badly wounded in the New Bern war.
Tyler continued, undeterred. “Sit out there some night, then. Sit out there by yourself. Listen to all the sounds. They'll drive you crazy after a while. You'll hear the footsteps in the grasses. You can hear 'em whispering to each other. Reloading their guns. Driving the tank...”
The wind had picked up now, and it was whipping Julie's hair in her eyes. Her face was pale. Sam shook his head, thinking of his father's story about driving the tank. Thinking of his father made him think about those early days they'd spent together, that year after the bombs.
“Hey, I think I've heard that story,” he said suddenly, trying to hide his grin.
“What?” asked Tyler, clearly surprised he was willing to play along.
“Yeah, I have,” said Sam, trying to send Julie a covert smile. “All the guys, and girls, from our town and their town, all marching around whispering to each other. I've heard about that- and I've heard why they're still there.”
“Yeah?” asked Tyler. He apparently had not expected this, and, Sam wondered gleefully to himself whether Tyler had even heard a story or had been making it up on the spot.
“See, they've got some unfinished business. It's keeping them there, because they've never got to finish it. Some dumbass border guard is always getting in the way.”
Julie was giving him a quizzical look now, and Brandon was leaning in to listen. Tyler was also watching with a dumbfounded expression, surprised that Sam would jump in at all.
“When they're walking across the field, gathered together, it's because they're planning something...”
“Yeah?” asked Brandon in a tone so low it could almost be a whisper.
“They're planning...a football game.”
Sam hid a grin at their mystified expressions. No one said anything for a moment. Then, out of the blue, Brandon burst into laughter.
“A football game!”
Julie was taken by a fit of the giggles, and Sam joined her. The only one not laughing was Tyler, who seemed to be figuring out how his scary story had slipped out of his control and become a punch line.
“Well, that was a season they never got to finish,” said Sam, to roars of laughter from the other two. “Every fall, when we're busy harvesting crops, they're planning how they're going to kick each other's asses.”
“Bet that's why Mrs. Richmond is always yelling about people tracking mud on her porch. She doesn't know the football ghosts keep doing it!” snorted Brandon. This was met by peals of laughter, even from Tyler.
A large clap of thunder sounded directly over their heads.
Julie gave a mild shriek, and dissolved into laughter again. “We won't tell Mrs. Richmond it's you!” she shouted up at the black sky.
“Careful you don't let our leader see you do that. I don't think they want people on border patrol who scream at thunder,” said Tyler.
“They probably want people who are old enough not to believe in ghosts,” retorted Julie, as the thunder sounded again.
Sam looked up, and could see over at the playground in the distance, the children from the day camp running towards the school. Glancing at the nearer building, he could see a figure coming towards them.
“Miss Sullivan,” he alerted the others. They jumped to their feet, and stood blinking as a blond woman jogged towards them.
“You guys are here for border patrol training, right?” she called.
They nodded, as the rain began to fall from the skies.
Shielding her face with her arm, their teacher shouted over the sound. “Sorry, guys, I guess there's been some kind of mix-up. Let's go in to the office and we'll figure out what happened.”
Reluctantly, they began stepping towards her. The rain soaking through their clothes was such a glorious change from the humid heat they'd been subjected to all afternoon.
“Hi Sam,” said Miss Sullivan as he came closer to her.
“Hi,” he said. He let her keep walking, waiting for Julie and the others to catch up.
“I hope we don't still have to train today in this,” she said, her hair plastered to her face.
“I hope you don't get freaked out and have to call home,” said Tyler in her ear.
“I hope your aim's better than your stories,” said Sam. Exchanging a smile with Julie, he yanked on the metal door handle and stepped inside as lightning lit the sky.