Page 2 of Forever Dead

Eleanor reached for the small clock on the side table. It was 10:14. Her fingers tightened around it. No one she knew called after nine without warning. At ten fourteen, they certainly did not arrive unannounced.

She watched from the chair. The driveway was nearly a quarter mile long, curving through maple and oak before opening beside the old barn. From the house, the entrance appeared only as a break between the trees. The car did not move. Its lights pointed directly toward her. A minute passed, perhaps less, long enough for Eleanor to become aware of the clock ticking beside her.

She put it down. “Who are you?”

The question was barely audible. The headlights stayed fixed.

Eleanor considered calling Ruth, then dismissed it. Ruth lived fifteen minutes away and would only work herself into a panic. The police, perhaps. No. Not yet. There was no crime in sitting at the end of someone’s driveway.

Then the car began to move, slowly enough that Eleanor found herself leaning forward as she watched.

The beams slid between the trunks, illuminating one section of the drive after another. Dead leaves flashed white and vanished again. The old fence threw long bars of shadow across the pasture.

Eleanor stood. Cold had stiffened her knees. She reached for the cane, planted it firmly, and crossed to the window.

Gravel whispered beneath the approaching tires as the vehicle passed the first curve. She tried to make out the body of the car behind the glare. Dark-colored, she thought. Sedan, perhaps. It was impossible to tell.

The driver moved with painful slowness, not the hesitant crawl of someone searching for a number. There were no house numbers out here anyway.

The car came through the second bend and stopped halfway between the road and the farmhouse. Full beams poured through the front window.

Eleanor recoiled and raised one hand against the glare. “Good Lord.”

The driver’s door opened, and a figure stepped out.

Eleanor leaned closer to the glass despite herself. The headlights erased detail. She could see only a dark shape beside the car. A person. Tall. Broad through the shoulders. Or maybe the light was stretching the outline.

The figure stood still, and Eleanor’s heartbeat quickened.

“Hello?”

The word escaped before she thought about it. No one outside could have heard through the glass.

The figure turned. For a moment it seemed to be facing the house. Then it walked across the driveway and disappeared into the line of trees.

Eleanor stared after it. The driver’s door remained open. The headlights stayed on. A small voice in her mind told her to move.

She backed away from the window. The landline sat on a table in the hallway. Eleanor crossed the room too quickly, caught the edge of the rug with her slipper, and steadied herself with the cane.

“Careful.”

Her hand shook as she lifted the receiver, but there was only silence. Eleanor frowned and pressed the cradle. Nothing. She tried again.

No dial tone.

The line had worked that afternoon. Ruth had called at three and spent twenty-two minutes complaining about the pharmacy changing the shape of her tablets.

Eleanor pressed the cradle harder. “Come on.”

Still nothing. Her unease sharpened. Had the wind taken down the line? It happened. Not often, but it happened.

Then she thought of the person in the trees.

Eleanor lowered the receiver as a sound came from outside.

Crunch.

She went still. Another crunch followed.