No Quit

  Before he reached the woman at the top of the hill he was climbing, she vanished. Henry plowed over the spot she’d been on and came to an abrupt halt. His boys were down in that ravine near a ramshackle hut, the beam of a flashlight illuminating them in shadow and gilt. Jake was on his knees, desperately trying to hold Cael who was thrashing stiffly on the ground, screaming shrilly enough to make his throat bleed.

  Henry didn’t realize he’d been moving, practically sliding down the slope. He just knew he was getting down there to his sons. He slid onto his knees on the other side of Cael, flinging dirt.

  “Dad!” Tears spilled down Jake’s cheeks even as a flash of relief cracked his devastated features.

  Henry took hold of Cael, dragged him into his arms. His young body was clenched as tight as a fist, bending his spine backwards even within the circle of Henry’s arms. “What happened?”

  Jake shook his head. He had to shout over his brother. “A ghost had him. Was doing something to him! I don’t know. He had his hands fastened to Cael’s head, and Cael was…” Jake’s chest was moving up and down, too fast. He swallowed, shook his head again. “I flung salt at him. The ghost exploded. Cael and I rolled down the hill, and then Cael started screaming. Dad, I can’t make him stop! He won’t stop! Something’s still got a hold of him!”

  Henry reached over to reassure Jake, gripping his arm. At the contact, Jake involuntarily hissed, flinching back.

  “Broken?”

  Jake nodded. “Think so, but it can wait.”

  It would have to. Henry nodded acceptance of that fact. “We’ll fix this. Don’t worry.”

  Jake didn’t say anything, just stared at his writhing, screaming brother. The veins in Cael’s neck and forehead were bulging and even though his voice was giving out, fading into a hoarse rasp, the sound was just as potent. How much more of this could his body take? There was a very real possibility of his fourteen-year-old having a heart attack. They had to get him away from here, figure out what was going on fast. Henry was tempted to hit him, knock Cael out, but feared that might lock him further into the nightmare of whatever was going on.

  Henry shifted, getting his feet underneath him to stand when Jake called out.

  Henry’s head snapped up. He caught a glimpse of the woman even as he saw Jake fling out his arm, tossing salt. “Jake, no!”

  Too late. The spirit dispersed. Salt rock particles dropped on them, reflecting in the flashlight’s glow like crystal raindrops. Henry curled over Cael’s head to shield him, but the salt still splattered them both.

  Cael gasped, a long painful shudder and then his coiled body sagged.

  Henry and Jake both stared, barely breathing.

  “Oh, Jake. Of course.” Henry dug into his jacket for his own salt canister. “Whatever’s happening is because of a ghost.” He poured half the entire contents of his can over Cael’s chest, scooped some up and rubbed the salt across the boy’s forehead. “Come on, Cael. Come on, son.”

  Jake leaned closer, his fingers fanning into his brother’s sweaty hair. “Cael, it’s time to wake up. I’m gonna kick your scrawny butt if you don’t.” Henry smiled at that.

  The eyes moved beneath the closed lids. Encouraged, Jake sank his hand farther into the kid’s hair. “That’s it, come on. Wake up for me. Come on, Cael. You’re scaring the crap out of me here.”

  Dark eyelashes fluttered. Slowly the lids slid open, revealing those muddy colored eyes, so much like their dad’s.

  The relief was fleeting as the kid’s body started tensing again. He cried out, “De…”

  Jake was practically hovering over Cael. “You’re okay. I’m right here. Cael, it’s okay. I’m right here.”

  “De…”

  “Come on, Cael.” The desperation in Jake’s voice stabbed its way into the center of Henry’s heart.

  “De…” Cael’s eyes were huge, frightened, unfocused. It hurt to see that kind of fear in his child’s eyes. Cael started flailing around. His hands grasped onto Henry’s arms in a vice-like grip. “De…De…Diegooooo!” he screamed.

  Henry locked gazes with Jake. “We’re getting out of here now.”

  ~~~

  Jake trailed behind his father, holding his injured arm to his chest even as he held the flashlight to light the way in front of his dad. Henry carried Cael the entire way, up and down the knolls, only stopping long enough to adjust his hold on Cael each time the kid arched too wildly.

  His brother was back to screaming, if you could call the raw scratches of sound rasping out of Cael’s throat a scream. Jake steeled his nerves against it, clenching his arm more tightly. And when they finally stepped into the parking lot, Jake thought he’d never been more ecstatic to see a junky old motel in his life.

  His dad stopped at the door, arms occupied with jerking Cael. “Can you get to your keycard?”

  “Yeah, Dad, I got it.” He had to let go of his arm, fingers twisting into the collar of his shirt to keep his arm up while he dug in his pocket with his other hand.

  And the woman in blue appeared between them and the door.

  “No, Jake,” Henry warned. “She helped me find you.”

  He barely had any salt left anyway, but that didn’t stop him from reaching inside his jacket for it.

  The woman pointed at Cael. “He promised he’d help me.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” Henry snarled. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on. Who’s Diego and what is he doing to my son?”

  “You have to help me.” Her eyes were pleading. “You must free me from Diego first. You cannot help your son. If he stops hurting Cael, Diego will come for me again.” She started weeping. “Please let me have one night.”

  Jake cocked his head. She wasn’t making any sense.

  Henry hitched Cael higher in his arms. “Diego murdered you.”

  Her gaze snapped up. She nodded.

  “You’re forced to relive it over and over, aren’t you?” Henry’s voice was quiet.

  “Sí.”

  “But somehow, because of Día de los Muertos your murder has been transferred to my boy.” The vein in Henry’s forehead stood out. “My son is reliving your murder.”

  The ghost’s chin trembled at the violence underlying Henry’s tone. “Sí. Yes. All of our deaths.”

  “All?” Jake flinched at his dad’s sharpness. “How many murders is my son reliving?” Henry seemed to crumble at that. His shoulders slumped as though Cael’s weight finally got to him, but their dad only shifted the kid higher, pulling him closer, and rested his forehead against the sweat-soaked head that was even now rolling against his shoulder.

  “Dad!” Jake pointed at the spirit. “This is her fault! She did this to Cael. I say we salt her bones and make it stop.”

  A horrified expression crossed the apparition’s features and she blinked out.

  Henry shook his head. “She’s not doing it. It’s Diego.” Henry glared at the door. “He’s the one we’re going to salt. But we need to find him.”

  “Sorry, Dad.” Jake unlocked the door, feeling miserable. “You were trying to get the information from her and I blew it.”

  Henry carried Cael inside and laid him gently on the closest bed. “It’s okay. We’re going to find him.” Cael’s hands scrabbled in the comforter, his body twisting, curling in on himself. The hoarse screams had turned into guttural cries.

  Henry pulled out the large salt canister from the bag on the floor. “Pack this around him.”

  Jake immediately began pouring the fine salt granules on his brother. “Can we give him something?”

  Henry had his phone out, punching in numbers. “I’m afraid that might hurt him more, trap him further in whatever this is.”

  Cael bucked up suddenly, his hands clawing at his throat. He looked like he was being strangled and Jake couldn’t do a damn thing about it. The hell he couldn’t. He poured a generous amount of salt across Cael’s neck. Surprisingly it appeared to help. Cael’s breat
hing eased and his hands flopped back to the mattress.

  Jake swiped a weary hand down his face. He felt Henry’s presence behind him. “Yeah, Ruiz,” Henry spoke into his phone. “I don’t care. Check out AMA. Just get your ass out of that hospital bed and get to researching. Diego. No, I don’t have a last name. I need this done yesterday. I am calm!” Henry pulled the receiver away for a moment, closed his eyes. He placed the phone back to his ear. “Just…be as quick as you can. Cael’s suffering. Yeah, I will. And Ruiz, thanks.”

  Henry set the phone back in its cradle. A deep weariness seemed to have settled into the creases at the corners of his eyes. A warm hand slipped onto Jake’s shoulder and squeezed. “Keep doing what you’re doing, son. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Jake stiffened at that. Part of him didn’t want his dad to leave him alone with Cael. He didn’t know what to do. What if he couldn’t bring Cael out of another strangling fit? But Jake understood that his dad had to go. He had to take out the Big Bad that was doing this to his brother.

  His dad must have felt him stiffen because he gave Jake’s shoulder another squeeze. “You’re doing fine. I wouldn’t trust Cael’s care to anyone else. You can do this. You good?”

  “Yeah.” Jake nodded. “I’ll take care of him, Dad.”

  “I know you will. Think you can wrap your arm on your own?”

  “Sure.”

  “Good. I’d do it, but I—”

  “Can’t spare the time. I know. Don’t worry about me.”

  Henry sighed. “I will always worry about you. That’s my job.” He smiled sadly. “But I know you can handle yourself. I’m going over to county records.” Which at this late hour meant he was breaking in. He pulled the first aid kit out, placed it on the table where Jake could get to it easier. “We’re going to find this SOB and then Ruiz and I are going to dispatch his demented murdering soul.”

  ~~~

  Jake couldn’t take this. He’d rather have his leg chewed off by that Chupacabra than watch his little brother toss around on the bed like that. The mewling gasping noises Cael made sounded more like a wounded cat than his kid brother.

  He’d taken only a few minutes to wrap the ace bandage tightly around his broken arm and then secured it to his side with one of his shirts. It wasn’t pretty, but it worked well enough. It was a throbbing ache that he should probably take something for the pain, but he had to stay alert, except he didn’t know what to do and it was killing him. Cael was hurting and Jake was helpless to do a damn thing about it. And so soon after he’d found him bloody and torn in the forest…then months of being in a coma not knowing if he’d wake up. He’d just gotten him back and now this?

  He stopped pacing and sat on the side of the bed. “Oh, Cael. Just hang on a little while longer. Dad’s…he’s gonna take care of this. You know Dad, he can fix anything. He’ll fix this. He’ll fix this,” his voice broke. He let his palm slide over the kid’s sweat soaked shirt, stopping above Cael’s heart. “Gods, Cael.”

  He lifted the washcloth out of the ice bucket filled with water he’d placed on the nightstand and started mopping away the sweat across Cael’s brow. And suddenly had an idea. Pouring a handful of salt into the ice bucket, he dipped the cloth in the salt water and began wiping Cael’s cheek.

  “De…” The voice was so soft, so utterly wasted. Jake squeezed his eyes closed against the sound, against the whimper of the murdering ghost’s name on his brother’s lips.

  “Jake,” Cael croaked.

  Jake’s eyes whipped open. “Cael? You with me?” He dropped the cloth to grasp Cael’s lax hand.

  “Uhhh.”

  “It’s okay, Cael. No, don’t try and talk. We know what you’re going through and Dad’s gonna fix it. He and Ruiz are taking care of it right now, so just try and hang on, okay? Just hang on. Cael?”

  The kid’s eyes were barely open. Jake didn’t know if he understood him or not until Cael’s hand weakly squeezed his.

  “Thank gods. Cael, I’ve been rubbing salt water on you. It seems to help, but I want to get some inside you as well. Do you think you can drink?”

  For a moment he thought Cael wouldn’t respond until there was finally a little blink. “Okay.” Jake ran over to the sink, filled one of the hotel cups and brought it back where he dumped at least a tablespoon’s worth of salt into it. Holding Cael up and getting him to drink with one arm broken was going to be a bitch.

  “All right, Cael, I’m going to slip in behind you.” Setting the glass on the nightstand, Jake shifted to the side of Cael’s back and then lifted him. Once he got Cael leaning on him, he grabbed the glass and brought it to his weak sibling’s lips. “Come on, Cael. You gotta try. Please, just take a sip. One sip.” He tilted the cup and was pleased when a little of the liquid got past the lips, though a lot more ran down Cael’s chin. Under normal circumstances salt water would have made him gag. “Okay, that’s good. You did good.” He had no idea if that was going to help or not, but Jake was willing to try anything. At least Cael wasn’t screaming or making those hideous noises anymore.

  His phone rang, making him jump. Cael’s head rolled to the side. Jake patted him and shifted out from underneath to get to the phone he’d left on the other side of the bed.

  “Dad?”

  “Yeah. How’s Cael?”

  “The salt seems to be helping a little. He actually knew me for a second.”

  He heard his father’s deep exhalation. “That’s good. That’s real good to hear, son. Keep doing what you’re doing. “

  “Did you find the bastard’s bones?”

  “That’s why I’m calling. There’s five Diegos buried in this town within the last thirty years. Three in one old family plot across town and the two others are buried in the city cemetery. Ruiz’s taking the family plot while I go to the cemetery. We don’t have time to narrow it down any further so we’re going to salt all of them.”

  “Okay, Dad, but just hurry.” Jake didn’t want to jinx it by asking what happens if their Diego wasn’t one of those five.

  “I will. Just as fast as I can dig. This Diego is toast. I’ll call when it’s done.”

  ~~~

  Henry disconnected the call, glancing about the county records. The moment Jake told him Cael had revived a little his hands started shaking. Holding in the worry and anguish over what was happening to his boy was breaking him down. He couldn’t give in to it now so he did what he always did, what his military training drilled into him—push it aside, get the job done—but damn, if witnessing his own child in the clutches of some dark force didn’t blow to hell every ounce of that training.

  Suck it up, Gillant, you got a job to do. Shoving the papers he’d ripped out of the graveyard layouts into his pocket, Henry slipped back out through the door he’d picked-locked. He had a score to settle.

  ~~~

  Resting his aching back against the headboard, Jake sat on the bed beside Cael and pulled the kid up so his head lay on his stomach. Cael’s fingers twitched. His head started moving and those damn noises gurgled from his raw throat. Jake grabbed the washcloth, dribbling salt water over his brother’s hair, then down his cheek. He’d sponge bathe Cael all night if he had to.

  ~~~

  Henry was working on his second grave. He’d salted the first, sprayed a generous amount of lighter fluid over it, but left it to dig the other grave before lighting it up. Salt usually did the trick on ghosts, a pure mineral tied to the earth to disperse the spirit, but he’d found on the harder cases of ghosts, fire cleansed the remains, leaving nothing for a spirit to cling to. For Diego, he was going all out. He didn’t want to draw any attention to an open flame in the cemetery before he could do them both, especially with all the celebrants still out on the street. The two Diegos were buried about ten yards from each other. He’d light one and then run and finish off the second.

  So far there hadn’t been any stirring on the air, no cold spots, which troubled him. In his experience, ghosts usually made a
last ditch effort to stop their bones from being torched. He was counting on one of these being the right grave.

  If not, he hoped Ruiz had an angry Diego at the family plot. Not that he wished trouble on his friend, but if the right Diego wasn’t buried here, a little disturbance for Ruiz meant saving Cael. Besides, the Ranger could handle it. Henry stabbed the shovel into the ground. Once he was finished here, he’d head over to Ruiz, just to lend a hand.

  The shovel struck wood. So close. He used the shovel to scrape away the last remnants of dirt from the coffin, found the latch and lifted the top half of the lid and stared down at the skeleton dressed in his Sunday best.

  Henry poured a generous amount of lighter fluid and salt over the corpse, climbed out of the hole and flicked open his lighter. Taking a bandana out of his pocket he held the material to the little flame, watching it burn good and bright before he dropped the bandana into the coffin and the lighter fluid whooshed to a hot blaze. “Hasta luego muchacho.”

  He stood quietly for a moment, just listening, his senses alert to every noise, every crackle of flame, any pulse that might slide across the still air. Nothing.

  Damn he hoped things weren’t so quiet for Ruiz.

  Turning, Henry sprinted toward the first grave he’d prepared, pulling the torn paper with the grave plots out. It’d make for excellent kindling. Three steps away from the open grave, Henry struck his lighter, and…He sailed through the air, landing like a punch on his stomach. He felt himself being flipped over to his back, the specter suddenly straddling him, a meaty ghost with large drooping mustaches and greasy hair. The mechanic’s name patch declared him as Diego. Son of a bitch he was strong! Henry thought at the same time relief crashed over him. This was the grave! He had the bastard now!

  Locking his fists together, Henry slammed his hands into the spirit’s face. Diego’s form sputtered and Henry’s arms went on through. Crap! Henry tried to buck him off. Damn freaking heavy-assed ghost! This ends now!