The Hidden Graveyard: A Suspenseful Short Story Read online

  “What did you say your name was?” I asked politely with my hand jutted out to shake his.

  He gave me a firm handshake. “Ah! Benjamin. You can call me Ben. And you are?”

  "I'm Liam, and this is my brother Damian." I motioned toward him, and he reached out his hand to meet Ben's.

  “What’s this about you wanting to know about 1998?”

  I could tell Damian was about to give away our whole story, but I wasn't going to let him give it up that easy. There was something a little off here in the way the woman wouldn't meet our eyes.

  "We grew up not too far from this area and ended up camping at that campground just through the woods. 1998 was the last year we were up here, and we've been looking for some friends of ours that used to camp with us.

  "Oh yeah? Well, we've lived here an awfully long time. If you could tell me who you're looking for, maybe I know them!"

  He smiled at his wife, who smiled back while carrying the pitcher and cups to the table. She sat beside him, allowing him to continue leading the conversation.

  “We’re looking for the Sullivans - Nancy and Derrick? They were here around then. Ever heard of them?” Damian chimed in before I could speak.

  He pet his mustache. “I don’t believe I have.”

  “You mean the couple who died? Those parents?” The wife blurted out.

  Ben looked at her with a mixture of confusion and maybe even frustration. At his gaze, she shrank into her chair as if to let him know she was sorry and she wouldn’t speak out of turn again.

  "They died? What do you know about that?" I tried to seem inconspicuous but wasn't sure if they bought it or not.

  Ben looked at his wife and gave her a slight nod to show she could speak.

  She shifted in her seat nervously. “Well, I heard that they had been murdered in these woods around that time. So sad. They were staying at the campground and their two sons...” They both looked up at us simultaneously, “…were left behind while they went missing. They were presumed to be dead after hours of searching the woods.”

  “Wow. We had no idea they were in trouble-”

  Interrupting me, Ben said, “They weren’t in trouble. It’s just like she said. They went missing. Lots of things happen in these woods. Lots of things. Who knows what could’ve happened to them. Alligators, starvation, hypothermia, not to mention diseases like malaria and sepsis. We’ve been in these woods for a long time. We’ve seen it all.”

  Damian, like the numbskull he was, reiterated, “If you’ve seen it all, why didn’t you see them? Do you know what happened to them?”

  The couple stared at each other again. My heart rate skyrocketed, and the silence was overwhelming. I felt like if I let out a single breath, the entire house would cave in. I swallowed, staying perfectly still as we all stared at each other.

  I finally interrupted, "Well, it seems that you don't have any additional information for us. We'll have to process this news together. So sorry to have bothered you."

  Damian wouldn’t break eye contact with Ben. As I started to stand and prepared to leave, he stayed locked in. It was a chicken fight in the middle of a war. I so badly wanted to interrupt, but I couldn’t stop the mysterious bond they had suddenly. It was like Damian had an intuition that I just didn’t possess. He knew something that I didn’t, and I wasn’t sure he could even put it into words for me.

  He stood up slowly, not breaking his stare. Ben slowly stood as well, his wife rising next to him, looking between the two of them just as I was. I didn't know what else to say; I had barely got out the last sentences, I couldn't breathe any longer. I grabbed Damian's right arm and began to walk towards the door. He waited until we were out of the kitchen to finally turn around and walk out with me.

  As we walked down the front porch steps, Ben stood in the doorway.

  “Goodbye, fellas. Have a nice walk, now.”

  He and his wife looked out the door as it slowly closed. We waited a moment to choose a direction so as to not alert them to our tent location. It was clear that they’d be watching us from the house.

  "What was that?!" I yelled at Damian when we finally trekked back onto the path in the woods. "Why were you staring that guy down? We were doing just fine until you started to open up that big mouth of yours!"

  He sighed, "Liam. You need to trust me. Something's not right with those people. We've never seen that place before, and yet it was here every summer we were? We've walked these woods! We know this place. And we know mom and dad. You think they would just walk off into the forest without telling us or anyone else where they were going?!"

  “Well...no. But you can’t just accuse people in their own homes. Especially in places we don’t know. They could have beat you, or me. Or killed us! If they were involved somehow, what makes you think they would hold back from that?”

  Damian thought about it as we continued our walk back to the campsite. He always held his head low when he felt guilty. I could tell he knew he had been wrong in this situation. He knew he’d made a mistake. He shouldn’t have given up all of the information, even if he was just trying to help – eager to protect us and our parents. He was hot-headed, but growing up without parents, he needed to be. He needed to be confident, controlling over our surroundings. He had been responsible for me, constantly ready to fight anything that jeopardized our family.

  When we finally reached our tent, he said, "I'm sorry. I should've thought it through. I just wanted to get the answers, and when he came at you like that...I don't trust them at all."

  “I know. I don’t either. Maybe Meredith knows something about them?”

  "I wouldn't mind seeing her again." Damian winked at me.

  Smirking at him, I punched his arm playfully. He pretended to be sore and laughed it off. It was getting dark by the time we got the fire started and set up for dinner. As we ate, we went over the facts again. Something was clearly off about that couple in the woods. We had honed our instincts during a lonely childhood. Damaged kids turn into damaged adults. When you've been frightened your entire life, everything seems threatening. So maybe the couple was just odd, older than we imagined, and going a little bit crazy.

  We made jokes around the fire and attempted to lighten the mood, and then told ourselves that we would check in with Meredith in the morning since it was getting late. Sleep felt like a comfort I didn’t deserve. Since our parents’ death, I’d felt the responsibility of learning the truth. I was just better at ignoring it than Damian was, deciding to go about my life with that mystery unsolved.

  Sleeping meant I wasn’t working. Despite trying to avoid it for most of my life, the true weight of understanding what happened that night sat on my chest. I hadn’t been able to breathe. Sleep came, but rest didn’t.

  5

  I tossed and turned again, reliving the same moments. Breathless, stranded, alone, with no one but Damian to understand. The sirens, the lights, everything felt so real. I ran down that hill again, feeling each scrape and bruise form on my small body. I hit the bottom again, except this time it was hot. Hotter than I remembered. I smelled smoke, but not like a barbeque grill. Like a thick, black, smoldering smoke. And I heard my brother.

  “LIAM!”

  * * *

  I turned to look for him, but I couldn't find him.

  “LIAM!”

  Again, I searched the woods for his familiar face.

  I felt a shake this time and was suddenly awake, staring into my brother's terrified eyes. Smoke began to fill the tent. I grabbed my backpack as Damian grabbed his. Rushing to get out, I went to pull the zipper and burned my fingertips, dropping the metal clasp in an automatic reaction.

  Damian headed to the back of the tent, took out his pocket knife from the side pocket of his bag, and began to rip at the tent fabric. It only took a few seconds before we were outside, each of us coughing up a lung. Damian ran to the nearest tree, leaning one arm against it, huddling down and throwing up into the bushes.

  Unable to swallo
w, I opened my water bottle to begin sipping it when I saw a shadow in the woods. Watching. Lurking. I tried not to move, but at a moment’s notice, it took off into the woods.

  I bolted. Chasing it through the trees, I began swerving under and over lost branches and logs. I was determined not to let the shadow leave my sight. Whoever it was had wanted to watch us suffocate in there.

  The shadow came to the hill I fell down as a child and began slowly jumping down, watching each step it took. I didn’t take the same approach.

  I threw myself into the air, falling just as I did the day my parents were declared dead in this very forest. I didn’t see much as I was rolling down the 30-foot drop, but eventually my body crashed into his.

  He was tumbling with me. My lungs felt like they were bursting into flames. But I found him and brought him down. As we hit the bottom we came apart, and at that moment, he darted through the bushes, heading for the river. It took me a moment to get up and convince my body to run, but I wasn't far behind him.

  I burst through the pine branches in the bushes surrounding the river and scanned left and right. No one. Silence.

  There was no way anyone would attempt to cross this river. It was too deep. Even if they were crossing the river, I would’ve seen them. I was angry. Angry that I had lost him. Angry that I didn’t get any answers. Angry that my body was now wounded from a lousy attempt at capturing whoever was out to get us.

  Sulking, I headed back to the camp. Bruised and beaten, I returned to see the entire tent engulfed in flames with Damian leaning against a tree.

  I walked over to him.

  “Woah. You look great,” he smiled shakily at me.

  “Damian, I saw someone.”

  His mood shifted. “Like the guy who did this?! Did you get him? Or at least rough him up? Because it definitely looks like he got a few hits in...”

  "He must have started this. He was watching us from the trees over there, waiting for us to die. I chased him into the woods and then threw myself at him. I thought I finally had him, but he escaped, and when I went to look out by the river, I couldn't see him anywhere."

  "Well, it is dark out. He probably hid somewhere. I know you're going to make me say it... you think it was ol' Ben giving us a message? He definitely didn't like his wife telling us about our parents or us poking around."

  Fury filled my eyes. “If it was some kind of message, he better know that we know where to find him. And we’re coming for him.”

  “Hey, the anger issues look better on me, buddy,” Damian said with a smirk and nudged me on the shoulder.

  We stared at the fire for minutes, in disbelief of our close call with the grim reaper. The inferno grew and then began to fade. It was almost dawn when a car pulled up.

  Meredith rolled down her window and called out, "Well, look who it is. I knew trouble would follow you!"

  “That you did,” Damian shouted back.

  Meredith got out of her car, looking at what was left of our campsite. Someone had called in the fire, which thankfully hadn't spread far. It had incinerated the picnic bench, tent, and almost reached our car but thankfully was stopped by the sand and lack of wood. The tent now sat in a pile of smoldering embers.

  “What were you cooking so late?” Her sarcasm was evident.

  I rolled my eyes. “We were sleeping.”

  “Leave the fire still hot? Sometimes the embers can still fly off and catch something if it’s not completely out.”

  Damian, now exhausted and irritable, explained, "We put the fire out completely. Even put water on it. We woke up to something near the tent, trying to start the tent on fire. We couldn't even get out the front because the zipper was too hot. Had to cut open the back. Someone lit the tent on fire."

  Meredith looked both puzzled and suspicious. She walked around the embers, squatted down next to the ash, and began poking a stick through the mess. Suddenly, her eyes widened.

  “I think I found the culprit, boys. I’m not sure if this means anything to you, but here it is.”

  Wrapping a piece of clothing around her hand, she brought a small metal Zippo lighter to us. Engraved in the silver was one name, written in a cursive font. Thomas. I didn't know a single Thomas, but maybe our friend Ben did. Meredith glanced at the two of us, noticing the confusion and suspicion on our faces.

  “You think Thomas did this to you? Do you know who that is?”

  “We have no idea who Thomas is. But I’m telling you right now, we know who did this.”

  "Well, I'm glad you boys are okay. Let's go back to my office and talk."

  6

  Going back to Meredith’s office was strange. We’d never been inside of a sheriff’s office before, but this place was clearly not the norm. Only three desks sat inside a small square room, with one adjacent room for the sheriff. He had a cloudy glass door with his name on the front. Brickett.

  We sat down in the two chairs seated next to her desk. She powered up her computer and sat there waiting. We glanced uncomfortably at one another.

  “Oh! Would you guys like any water or maybe a pop or something?”

  I raised my water bottle. “I think I’m okay.”

  Damian nodded in agreement. We basked in the uncomfortable silence until the computer finally turned on, and Meredith began to type.

  "So, what did you say his name was again?"

  "He told us his name was Benjamin. I don't know his wife's name, they never said. Didn't look like they had any kids or pets, just alone in that big house out in the woods. Is it dark brown with maroon shutters? Victorian style. Have you seen it before?"

  She thought for a minute. “I haven’t... which is strange because I’ve walked those woods my entire life. Let me search for them. Aren’t very many people in this town, so it probably won’t be too long before I find them.”

  “Great,” I said.

  I looked over at Damian, who was staring straight at Meredith. I nudged him, and he quickly turned back to me. He'd never looked this way at a woman before. I'd seen him try harder than anyone I know to get a lady, but swooning? It just wasn't his thing.

  He gave me big eyes and turned back to watch her slim fingers type on the keyboard. Her eyebrows narrowed down in focus as she scoured the database based on the descriptions we’d provided. She knew this was going to be a tough case. Deep down, she knew she wasn’t going to find them. Someone who had lived in this little town for twenty years didn’t know the people who said they’ve been here since 1998? Doesn’t sound right.

  She gave us a look of despair. "Sorry, boys. They aren't in here. But! I have an idea. That campground used to have a book with all the regular campers' names and phone numbers inside. It's a stretch considering they don't seem like the camping type, but if they lived nearby, maybe they wanted to be a part of it."

  Damian and I nodded in agreement. Meredith got up and walked into the sheriff's office. Shadows peeked through the clouded glass. The two of us watched in anticipation. The voices got louder until finally, she walked out with a large hardcover book with 1995-2005 written on the cover. More aggressively than expected, she slammed it on the desk in front of her.

  “Fellas. We’ve got them.”

  Damian looked at me confused, as I shared the same expression with him, then with Meredith. She slowly opened the book to a photo on the first page. My stomach churned, nausea running up the back of my throat. I had to swallow a few times to keep anything from rising up again. The hair on my arms stood up. Damian looked as white as snow.

  Meredith, confused, asked, “Is that not the couple?”

  “No, that is them. Exactly. This was from 1995?!” Damian asked.

  Meredith nodded. Pictured in the old photo were the man and woman we saw in that house in the woods. The exact man and woman. Not a single thing was out of place: the mustache, the yellow dress, the tan skin with sunken eyes.

  "So, what does that mean?" I looked at him, shivering.

  He shook his head. “How should I know what it
means?”

  Under my breath, I murmured, "Ghost Whisperer."

  "Alright, I said one thing, and now you think I'm some sort of magic man," he scoffed.

  "Well. Could they just have really young faces? Maybe they age well."

  Meredith looked closer at the photo, bringing it up to her face, "I don't think so, guys. The chances of someone looking the same when they're 25 and 50 seems unreal. Are you sure they look like this?"

  “We’re positive. That photo could have been taken yesterday.” Confirmed Damian.

  “So what are you saying? Are they ghosts?” I asked bluntly.

  Meredith shook her head and then nodded. "I don't know. But I'm saying something is fishy around here."

  Damian raised his eyebrows. “I knew something was off.”

  We all looked at each other, unsure of our next move. The idea didn't seem so absurd now that a third party was in on it, too. The photo was uncanny. It was, without a doubt, the couple from the woods. It was obvious what we needed to do, but I don't think any of us were jumping at the idea.

  Reluctantly I said, “We have to go back there.”

  “What were you guys even doing in the woods?” Meredith asked, sitting down heavily behind the desk.

  I had completely forgotten that Meredith didn't know about our parents. We had all gotten along so well, we didn't realize she was out of the loop.

  “Well,” Damian began, “our parents took us here all the time when we were little. We’d stay in the campground a few weekends a year. One year while we were in the campground, they disappeared into the woods. It was late at night or early in the morning. We woke up to find them gone, the tent empty. We searched around for them for a while before I went and found someone who called the police. They searched the woods for days and never found them.”

  “Oh my gosh. That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.” She rested her hand on Damian’s shoulder and gave me a sympathetic look. “How old were you?”