The Haunted Traveler December 2017 Edition

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132 Send that thought packing, too. Just find the cigarettes. One hand on the wheel, he leaned over and popped open the glove box. Expired insurance cards, dingy Kleenex, a box of ammo for the Smith & Wesson .38 under his seat. And his Camels. Tyler held the pack to his mouth to fish one out with his teeth. His eyes returned to the road. A few yards ahead, the highway veered sharply to the left. The car was already off of the road before he could jam the brakes. It barreled over the shoulder and across a flat, grassy clearing for thirty feet until it hit a hump of red clay that brought it to a sudden halt. From the trunk came a loud thud. Tyler would have to check on his cargo later. Getting his car back on the road before anyone spotted him was his top priority. Tyler glowered at the pack of Camels. Fuckers nearly got me killed, and not from cancer. He popped the hood and got out to survey the damage. The engine was still intact, so he closed the hood and wriggled under the car to inspect the chassis. Except for clods of red mud and leaves stuck in all the nooks of the undercarriage, the car was unscathed. Tyler got to his feet and brushed off his pants. He stepped toward the trunk, stopped, and decided instead to have that smoke after all. He reached through the open driver-side window for the cigarettes. He got one, but when he straightened up to light it, the cigarette fell, forgotten, from his lips. Della stood at the edge of a line of scraggly pines, perhaps twenty yards away, a languid expression on her face. She was wearing a nightgown, the white silky one where in just the right light he could see the slight curves of her breasts and hips underneath. But in this light—the bloody, noxious red of dusk—the gown was like liquid fire enshrouding her body. “No,” Tyler muttered. He felt a judder in his mind, as if his sanity had been plucked like a guitar string. Tyler clambered into the car through the window, reaching for the revolver under the seat. His legs flailed in the air. When his hands finally found the gun, he wrenched it free and pulled himself from the car, brandishing the revolver like a crucifix. Della was closer. Tyler leveled the pistol at her and squeezed off two rounds. The report echoed along the empty highway. She was still standing, her blank expression unwavering, her gown unblemished. I know I hit her, right in the chest. Della stepped into the clearing. Tyler dove headfirst into the car, wondering how she’d followed him. She didn’t follow me, he told himself. She couldn’t have. It ain’t her. That thing is something else, something that ain’t fucking human. He turned the ignition, cursing it if it dared to stall. But the car cranked immediately.
Tyler threw it into reverse and floored the gas, slinging rooster tails of dirt out in front of the car. “Goddammit, go!” He shifted into drive and stomped on the gas again. The tires caught. The car launched. Tyler cut the wheel to the left, then right, trying to steer towards the highway. The car fishtailed, but he wouldn’t let off the gas. The car bounced back onto the road. Tyler momentarily left the seat and his head whacked the roof. His eyes darted back and forth between the highway and rearview mirror, gauging the growing distance between him and the clearing. Another curve in the road and the clearing vanished. That wasn’t her! Tyler’s mind shrieked. It couldn’t have been Della. She’s… He couldn’t finish the thought, so another voice did—Joel’s. She’s dead, bro. * * * Tyler pressed in the dashboard lighter, careful now to keep his eyes on the darkening landscape ahead, and blindly took a Camel from the pack. A truck crested the hill. Tyler drummed his fingers on the wheel until the truck passed and its taillights—like malevolent eyes—had faded from sight. The dashboard lighter popped —like a thump thump thump from the trunk— so Tyler reached for it. His hand trembled. He made a fist to steady his hand, then took the lighter and lit his cigarette. The biting smoke calmed him, but not much. He had to piss, but Tyler wouldn’t stop now, not even if Jesus Christ and Elvis were hawking scuppernong wine on the roadside. Not after what he’d just witnessed. I imagined her, he thought. She wasn’t really there. She couldn’t be. Oh, she was there all right, said Joel. Tyler sucked deeply on the Camel, as if he could smoke Joel’s voice from his head like smoking a rattlesnake from a gopher hole. It didn’t work. Real or imaginary, Tyler, you saw her. It ain’t important whether or not she was real—the important thing is why. Why what? Tyler thought. Why you saw Della. Tyler snorted. And why’s that? Cause of the guilt, bro. Your guilt. Tyler shook his head. He would beat his temples with his fists if he could do so without taking his hands off the wheel. Joel’s voice had to go. The bastard—Tyler had loved his brother, but damn if Joel hadn’t been a grade-A bastard—was three years in the ground. Wrecked his car while drunk. Joel Purdee had lost the right to dispense wisdom. But the dead never really die, little bro. 133
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The Haunted Traveler December2017 E
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Table of Contents Highland Fling Ma
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The Haunted Traveler A Roaming Anth
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8
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10
Page 14 and 15:
12 The Gas Station Jenna Heller “
Page 16 and 17:
14 “It just amazes me that we’r
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16 At the top of the short staircas
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18 up her face and then lowered it
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20 There was a list of prohibited i
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22 “The girls are here, too,” M
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24 THE BONES Stephanie Bucklin “T
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26 “Then?” “Survival.” The
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28 “Lady Mordemag—” Darya sta
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30 could hear Lady Mordemag’s oil
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32 he had to curb his normal method
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34 paused again, listening and wait
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36 complete as it had at the top of
Page 40 and 41:
38 It Is the Ache that Dwells Withi
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40 “Mary? Come on, please open th
Page 44 and 45:
42 Leah Oates A BOLT FROM THE BLUE
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44 there people were always around
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46 before the storm hits. Once you
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48 “Car spell nargelette,” Ben
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50 It’s poison, the witch said. B
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52 “Sir, if you don’t come peac
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54 was all he had seen on the day
Page 58 and 59:
56 “So…Ax, is it?” Scott aske
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58 you came all the way from out of
Page 62 and 63:
60 of thought; a bright flash, foll
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62 It took a few minutes of brisk w
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64 games.” James punched the wall
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66 conjured of kicking it in the fa
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68 mom, but she wouldn’t answer.
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70 with a dull thump-thump-thump. J
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72 Jim Zola The Blind Piano Player
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74 Jim Zola
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76 across their fur and between the
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78 Cadie’s Missing Mike Oberly Th
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80 “Rascal is as rascal is,” th
Page 84 and 85: 82 The Flood Anna Kaye-Rogers The r
Page 86 and 87: 84 the girls. “She’s your dog,
Page 88 and 89: 86 Rainy days are the worst. As she
Page 90 and 91: 88 Jubydream turtle: falls in love,
Page 92 and 93: 90 The Moon Alexandria Cope Margare
Page 94 and 95: 92 early. She packed her things in
Page 96 and 97: 94 some ninja turtle action. Noah s
Page 98 and 99: 96 That’s why even though she was
Page 100 and 101: 98 Belinda slipped off the wet coat
Page 102 and 103: 100 “I liked Pretty Pretty Prince
Page 104 and 105: 102 The black-eyed doll approached
Page 106 and 107: 104 STALKED ON A WINTER’S NIGHT B
Page 108 and 109: 106 is, the playground is dangerous
Page 110 and 111: 108 exposed and the floors were lin
Page 112 and 113: 110 Jason and his fling heard the d
Page 114 and 115: 112 was divided into fifteen minute
Page 116 and 117: 114 Essentially, her home in Belle
Page 118 and 119: 116 Samantha had inherited the chai
Page 120 and 121: 118 For Death’s Amusement Rollin
Page 122 and 123: 120 wore white gloves on its enormo
Page 124 and 125: 122 process of extracting another f
Page 126 and 127: 124 Running Amber Cook They were fo
Page 128 and 129: 126 Witchery Kerry E.B. Black Tia i
Page 130 and 131: 128 Scream Megan Whiting It was a s
Page 132 and 133: 130 terrifying ease, then vanished
Page 136 and 137: 134 Tyler switched on the radio. An
Page 138 and 139: 136 veins. Then it stopped. She was
Page 140 and 141: 138 “She showed up at that church
Page 142 and 143: 140 Bear Trap Feivel Wolff He saw t
Page 144 and 145: 142 “I made you dinner, did I not
Page 146 and 147: 144 the windshield. A bit longer an
Page 148 and 149: 146 Now he could make out the tune.
Page 150 and 151: 148 “Tell your momma! Tell her I
Page 152 and 153: 150 Black Swan On the Water Side Co
Page 154 and 155: 152 They looked like Latinas, but I
Page 156 and 157: 154 BROTHERLY LOVE Diane Arrelle Na
Page 158 and 159: 156 Terror carrying her beyond hyst
Page 160 and 161: 158 wonder you’re imagining thing
Page 162 and 163: 160 Listening Neal Steichen Oh, Chr
Page 164 and 165: 162 I drop the mostly empty glass o
Page 166 and 167: 164 Brenda, I swear to God, one of
Page 168 and 169: 166 Brbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrrrr… Yup. M
Page 170 and 171: 168 or two of dust, out of the door
Page 172 and 173: 170 Biographies T. Thomas Abernathy
Page 174 and 175: 172 Brett Grinnell lives and works
Page 176 and 177: 174 Real Art Ways, Tomasulo Gallery
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