Chapter 1
When sixteen-year-old Kyle Stapley heard the uncontrolled screeching of tires behind his bicycle, he was sure he was about to get hit. He wanted to change his current heading, but he was already on the sidewalk. Where else could he go? Turn into the street and surely die? He did the only thing he could do - duck towards his handlebars. He guessed the next thing he’d notice was his bike disappearing from beneath him while the grill of the vehicle launched him into the air as if shot out of a canon. A couple of seconds of weightlessness would be the last sensation he’d ever feel depending on where and how he landed. Does it hurt being dead? What about being paralyzed? Broken bones had to hurt. While questions about his ultimate fate orbited his brain at lightning speed, nothing happened. He was just about to lift up when he heard a loud crunch followed by more screeching tires behind him, but this time the sound was farther back. He slammed on his brakes, forcing his tires to skid. When his bike stopped, he set his feet down and twisted around. What the hell happened back there?
As he caught his breath, the first thing he saw was his friend, Vance Gidwell, coasting toward him. How could Vance be so calm while he thought he was about to die? Further behind Vance was a new burgundy SUV sitting cockeyed upon the sidewalk they were on, just outside the creepy Southern Pines Cemetery, with steam billowing from its hood. Across the now empty four-lane street sat an older white sedan sitting sideways across the left lane, its driver-side quarter panel crushed all the way back to the cracked windshield. So that’s what scared him to death. He wondered who hit who? Vance pulled up next to him and stopped. Okay, now where the hell is Adam?
“Vance, do you see Adam anywhere?”
Vance twisted around and said, “Whoa, that’s a bad accident, and it just missed me. What did you say?”
“Do you see Adam?”
Vance scanned the gathering crowd. “No, I don’t see him anywhere.”
Where was that guy? Kyle bet he stopped to see to see the aftermath of the accident. He always did stuff like that. Seconds passed and still no Adam.
“I’m going back to see if he’s somewhere in the crowd,” Kyle said.
“Wait, I’ll come with you.”
Kyle flipped his bike around and pedaled toward the accident with Vance following close behind. The strong odor of burning rubber, exhaust fumes, and whatever was in the steam invaded his nostrils as he closed in. Boy, did it stink. He stopped short of the gathering crowd and still didn’t see Adam. He glimpsed into the cemetery grounds, but noted Vance didn’t. Why did the accident have to take place outside the cemetery? It was the only place in town the three friends despised. A gleam from under the SUV caught Kyle’s eye.
“Vance. Look at that. Isn’t that Adam’s bicycle wheel?
“Where?”
“Down there underneath the SUV.”
“I think so. Where is he?”
“I don’t know. I still don’t see him. I hope this SUV didn’t hit him. Come on Vance. You check near the cemetery’s fence and I’ll make my way through the crowd to see if he’s in there somewhere.”
“Why do I have to check near the fence? You know how I feel about cemeteries.”
“It won’t take long. I’ll meet you on the other side. Just forget about Pet Sematary. It was only a movie. It wasn’t real.”
“Okay, but hurry up. You know I hate cemeteries, especially this one.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
Kyle was aware that Vance watched the movie Pet Sematary without his parent’s permission when he was eight-years-old, and now, each time they passed by it, Vance refused to look inside.
Kyle huffed when he saw all the people gawking at the accident. Is anybody helping whoever’s in the SUV? He turned sideways, squeezing past onlookers. He finally spotted people helping the victims but still no Adam.
Through the crowd’s chatter, he heard Vance’s voice.
“Kyle! Kyle! Back here! I found Adam! Help! Somebody help!” Vance’s voice cracked.
The pitch of Vance’s voice made Kyle’s eyebrows rise. Something was very wrong. He battled his way through the throng of people. They weren’t doing anything anyway. When he reached the rear of the crowd, he spotted Vance standing within the cemetery grounds staring down at something behind the waist high bushes. There was no way Vance would ever enter that cemetery, not without being dragged in. But there he was, standing there, stiff as a statue, and even with his African-American skin tone, Vance’s face looked devoid of blood.
Kyle hopped over the short wrought-iron fence surrounding the expanse of the cemetery and approached Vance, but he didn’t acknowledge him and continued staring at the ground. Kyle moved aside, away from the bushes and finally saw what Vance was staring at. There was Adam Trenton beneath a blood-spattered headstone, lying on his side with blood cascading over his face down into the grave’s soil.
Kyle’s blood iced over. In all his sixteen years, he’d never seen anyone hurt so badly outside of television or the movies. He didn’t know what to do. Should he try to move Kyle? No, that may hurt him even more or even kill him. He turned to the adults that were leaning over the fence staring. They had cell phones, but none of them were calling for help. Instead, they were snapping pictures which made Kyle’s blood boil.
Then he detected the wail of a siren which grew louder then stopped. Two more sirens followed. He hopped back over the fence and sprinted around the outside of the crowd. He didn’t care which emergency vehicles they were. He stopped before running into the street and spotted three police cars. An officer stopped traffic in both directions while the others were examining the accident victims. Kyle sprinted to the one he considered least busy – the one directing traffic.
“Hey! Excuse me, sir! Excuse me, but my friend was hit by that SUV, and he was knocked into the cemetery. I think his head hit a headstone and he’s bleeding a lot. Can you help him?” The officer followed him over the fence, and once he saw Adam, he kneeled down.
“Vance, did Kyle move at all?”
Vance didn’t answer. Kyle looked over. Vance was near tears and shivering. Tears rolled down his cheeks. Without a word, Vance turned, jumped the fence, and ran toward his bike. Kyle’s jaw dropped when he saw his other best friend bolt, leaving him alone to tend to Adam. He should be furious, but he understood. Vance was always the shy one of the trio who never got involved in to many activities outside of school. The sight of Adam, bloodied, and laying in a cemetery must have been too much for him, but at least he found Adam.
Kyle growled at the crowd as they continued gawking at his injured friend, taking pictures and pointing. If they want pictures, he’ll give them something to take a picture of. Up went both middle fingers and he ensured everyone had a clear view of them. They continued gawking while other’s laughed. Kyle had had enough.
“Why don’t you help my friend instead of taking pictures of him? You’re all worthless. I wished you’d just get outta here and go home.”
The officer paused, looked up, and said,
“You heard the young man. Everyone not here to help should leave. You’re contaminating this scene.”
The crowd’s chatter increased as it began breaking up.
Multiple ambulances arrived on the scene, and he hoped someone would come over to examine his friend. Seconds later, a couple of paramedics crossed the fence and knelt down next to Adam. The officer leaned in and whispered something to the them. Kyle couldn’t hear what the officer said, but he didn’t like the stoic look it left on their faces. What did he say? The officer stood up and stepped back to give them plenty of room to work.
They treated Adam like a newborn, with one focusing on his bloodied head while the other ran a stethoscope around his chest, and by the paramedic’s expression, Kyle believed he couldn’t find a pulse. He began ringing his hands.
They slowly rolled Adam onto his back and tore open his shirt. This was not good - not good at all. Then the paramedic brought out the paddles. Was his friend dead? The rest of the world evaporated, and he found it hard to breathe.
Adam’s body convulsed from the electrical shock after the paramedic yelled “clear”. He cringed and could feel the surge of electricity coursing through his own body. They prepared the paddles again. Adam couldn’t be dead. Kyle’s muscles tightened when Adam’s body convulsed upward again. How many times were they going to keep doing that to him? The paramedic with the stethoscope announced he’d found a heartbeat. Kyle became lightheaded and thought he would faint. He let out a deep breath, discovering that he’d been holding it, while the paramedics stowed their equipment.
Without warning, Adam’s body lurched upward. Kyle jumped back and so did the officer. The paramedics turned with wide eyes. What’s wrong with him? Why is he doing that? The paramedics looked afraid to touch him. Then a paramedic forced Adam’s body back down to the ground while the other retrieved the stethoscope again.
“He still has a heartbeat. Have you ever seen anything like that before?” said one paramedic to the other.
“Never. When I pushed him back down, it felt like he suffered from rigor mortis. That’s the strangest thing I ever saw. Let’s get him to the hospital quick.” One paramedic hopped the fence and ran toward the ambulance.
Kyle dropped his shoulders. Would Adam even make it to the hospital? He clinched his jaw when the paramedic returned with a bright orange fiberglass board and immobilizing blocks, and watched them secure Adam on the board, placing the blocks on either side of his head to keep it very still. The officer assisted lifting his friend over the fence and they carted him off into the back of an ambulance. Kyle was only a spectator. He wanted to, and could have helped the paramedics and officer, but that last convulsion twisted his mind. For the briefest amount of time, he thought Adam became possessed. Every movie about exorcism he’d ever seen poisoned his thoughts.
Kyle remained at the cemetery as the ambulance disappeared around the corner, its siren wailing announcing that his friend may be on the verge of death. He was broken, having lost two friends in a manner of minutes. Yes, he knew he’d lost Vance also. The sheer look of terror upon his friend’s face made him wonder if they would ever have the relationship they had before the accident.
The smoky exhausts of roaring tow truck engines filled the air as the damaged vehicles were lifted then driven away. Stragglers still milled around the crash scene, and the officer who attended to Adam was one of them. The officer stared at the bloody headstone Adam’s head smashed into, and Kyle hopped over the fence to join him. The inscription on the headstone read,
Brian Kinkaid
1989-2015
May God Have Pity on Your Soul
That name meant something to Kyle, but he wasn’t sure why. The officer looked over and smiled, but Kyle couldn’t return it. Suddenly, he blurted out,
“Do you know what caused the accident?”
“Not yet, son.” The officer shook his head and commented, “Brian Kinkaid! Oh boy! A lot of people are glad he’s dead.”
“Why?”
“He hurt a lot of people in this town about two years ago, and the State of Kansas had the last word.”
“They executed him?”
The officer looked down with wide eyes and said, “Yes, that’s right. They executed him.”
“Oh. If my friend hadn’t hit his head on that headstone, he might have been fine.”
“I’m sorry about your friend, but we need to begin our investigation. I hope your friend will be okay.”
“I do too,” Kyle said, hanging his head as he turned. He hopped back over the fence once more and headed for his bike.
