My Brother's Ghost Pt. 03

My headache begins easing up once Scott starts the car. I have no idea what brought on those horrifying visions or that eerie, distorted voice inside my head, but I'm thankful they're gone. Still, I can't explain what's going on with me, that's even if I knew where to start.

Anyway, when we pull away from the overlook, we run over something. The metallic crunching sound beneath the tires makes me think it's a soda can. I can't be sure; however, with other things weighing on my mind I think little of it.

Once we're on the road, I go back to scanning the roadside looking for my brother. At first, we roll right along traversing the snow covered mountain byway. Each winding curve takes us deeper into the park. Soon, the wind begins to pick up.

"How high up are we," I inquire, gazing down at the valley below.

"Probably 2,500 feet or so. I think the highest point is around 4,000 feet give or take," he says.

"That's nowhere near as high as the Rockies."

"I've never see them."

"They're impressive," I say.

"I'm sure, but I doubt my car would make the trip."

"There's a tunnel up here?"

"Yeah, that's Marys Rock Tunnel. It's nothing to jump up and down about, though."

It seems like we're crossing into another world as we drive through the tunnel. Once we exit from it, though, the wind picks up more, strong enough for the turbulence to vibrate the car. Soon, low hanging clouds start rolling in and the driving conditions worsen. Before long, the thought of getting stranded crosses my mind.

Suddenly, a strong gust of wind forces us off the road. Small pieces of gravel hammer the underside of Scott's Camaro once the tires leave the pavement. If I wasn't terrified before, I am now. Fortunately, he's able to get back on the road without sideswiping the steel barrier.

"It getting bad," I mention.

"I've seen it worse than this."

"Maybe we should've waited."

"Are you having second thoughts," he asks, glancing over at me.

"No, I just don't like the idea of being stranded up here."

"What - you don't like my company?"

"I didn't mean it like that, Scott."

My nerves can't handle much more stress. I dig a cigarette form my purse and lite it. Then, I crack the window to let the breeze suck the smoke outside the car. After a couple of puffs, I calm down some.

"There's a mountain lodge at Skyland."

"Do you think my brother is there?"

"No, but we can stay the night if you want."

"I don't want to spend the night up here."

"Why not? It's nice and cozy - you'd love it. They even have rooms with a fireplace."

"I don't know," I say, drumming my fingernails on the glass.

"Aww... C'mon, it's better than that hotel you were at," he adds.

Scott is persistent. I've got to give him an "A" for effort on trying to get in my panties. Still, I didn't come all this way to have a good time. My brother is somewhere out here and I won't rest easy until I'm sure he's okay.

"I'd rather not, Scott."

"It was just a suggestion," he says, turning the heat up a notch.

An awkward silence settles between us. I'm sure my lack of interest is frustrating Scott. Still, he should have known that I wouldn't give him a time of day the way I blew him off at the restaurant.

After awhile, I dig my cell phone from my purse to occupy myself, mostly to put the breaks on Scott's subtle advances. Unable to pick up a signal, I wave it around trying to pick up one. It doesn't take long for him to figure out what I'm doing.

"You can forget a cell phone up here. There's a better chance of getting laid than picking up a signal."

Scott's sly remark is annoying. I don't bother to respond - probably because it seems as if he's making another pass at me. I'm hoping he gets the idea I'm not interested.

"You wouldn't happen to have a picture of your brother, would you," Scott inquires.

"Yeah, why," I question.

"It's hard to look for someone if I don't have an idea of what they look like," he explains.

"Give me a minute, Scott."

"Preferably a recent one," he adds, waiting.

I sift through the pictures on my phone.

"This is Kevin," I say, showing him the picture.

"He looks more more like your sister than your brother," he says, glancing at it for a second.

"It's the last one he sent me."

"I've never seen him around here."

"Do you think anyone at the restaurant may have seen him?"

"Hard to say. Most people around here aren't really accepting of someone like your brother."

"I probably should've asked anyway."

"So does your brother go by the name Kevin dressed like a woman?"

"He never asked me to use another name."

"I wonder why?"

"I couldn't tell you."

Soon, other thoughts begin rolling around in my head. Perhaps we're looking in the wrong places. I wonder if Kevin's roommate would be able to tell me something more specific or give us an idea where he may have gone.

"Why would your brother hike through Skyline Drive alone," he asks.

"My brother loved waterfalls and caves. He wasn't big on hiking."

"Can't say I blame him. Shenandoah Caverns is definitely worth seeing with less walking."

Suddenly, the visions return, more horrifying and graphic than before. I close my eyes. This time, I see Kevin. He's in the woods, running somewhere. He's hurt. No, he's bleeding and begging for his life. There's someone else with a knife. It's dark. I can't make out the other person's face.

"Is something the matter," Scott asks, nudging my shoulder.

"My head is hurting again," I fib, opening my eyes.

"Do you want me to pull over," he questions, letting off the gas.

"Not right now, Scott."

I may have no interest in Scott, but he seems to have a genuine concern for me. Either that, or he's doing a damn good job of convincing me.

Anyway, I lean my head against the window, burying myself with in thought. Soon, we pass the Skyland mountain lodge. I half expect him to stop. To my surprise, he presses on. Awhile later, he pulls over into a parking area.

"Where are we," I question, sitting up in the seat.

"Dark Hollow Falls. It's a popular attraction in the park."

"Do you think my brother's here?"

"It's as good a place as any to look," he says, opening his door.

My optimism begins filling me with false hope. I open my door and follow Scott across the parking lot and down a narrow mountain trail. Footprints in the snow suggest that there are dozens of people here, possibly more.

"Go on ahead, Amanda."

"Where are you going," I question, stopping in my tracks.

"I forgot to lock the car. Don't worry. I'll catch up with you."

I stuff my hands into my pockets and make my way down the slippery trail. In the distance, I can hear voices, but I don't see anyone. After awhile, I start to get a little jumpy and glance over my shoulder looking for Scott.

Up ahead, a couple appear, heading back up the path. Soon, more people. Some of them wave as they pass, but most don't even bother to.

Finally, after walking about a mile and a half down the mountain slope, I arrive at the base of a series of waterfalls. Nestled in a thicket of trees covered with snow, the cascades of cold mountain water spill from the rocky ledges into a pool of water where a fog like mist rises from it. It's not an impressive sight, but it is visually stimulating nonetheless.

Hot flashes come over me when I approach the falls for a closer look. After a few minutes, I start looking for Scott. There's no sign of him on the trail.

While I wait, I take some scenic pictures with my phone. Then, I kneel down at the water's edge. As I gaze at my reflection in the crystal clear water, it looks like some one is standing behind me. Startled, I turn only to see no one is there. As a matter of fact, I'm all alone.

I dip my hands in the freezing cold water, close my eyes and splash it onto my face. When I open my eyes, there's a distorted image in the rippling water. Even though it mimics my every move, it's definitely not a reflection.

"I must be hallucinating," I mumble, gazing into the moving water.

At first, I'm somewhat confused by what I see until a hand reaches out of the water. Then, an arm, a head and body rise from the water. The ghastly figure looks like my brother, but it's not him. Maybe it is and I'm just too frightened to notice.

"What the - ," I shout, stumbling backwards until I fall on my ass.

What I see is terrifying, something that I can't rationalize. Digging my feet into an icy slush, I panic, scooting away from the ghastly figure as it steps out of the water and approaches me. Once I reach a point where I can stand up, I turn around and run, slamming into Scott.

"Amanda," he says.

"We've got to get out of here," I scream.

"Calm down," he says, holding me still. "You look like you seen a ghost or something."

"Did you see that," I pant, looking over my shoulder, pointing.

"See what - the waterfall," he asks, peeking over my shoulder.

"That - that figure - over there - standing in the water," I stutter, panting.

"There's no one here but us," he says, looking around.

I sit down on a tree stump. My heart; racing.

"I think my brother is dead, Scott."

"You don't know that for sure. Right now, he's just missing. That's all."

"I know what I saw," I yell.

"We need to get you out of here," he says.

Scott wraps his arm around my shoulder and helps me to my feet. His embrace should feel comforting given the unusual circumstances, but it doesn't. In a way, it seems rather empty and hollow.

"Do you need some help getting up the slope," he asks.

"I - I think I can manage," I stutter.

The hike up the mountain seems longer than it took to come down it. At first, Scott leads the way. Then, he let's me pass him. Maybe it's just me, but it feels like his eyes are weighing heavy on me. By the time we reach the tourist parking area, I'm exhausted and relieved to see his old, beat up Camaro. Before we reach it, he notices something that my eyes miss.

"Great - just fucking great," he says.

"What," I inquire, panting as I rake the hair out of my face.

"There's a flat tire on the car."

"Are you serious?"

"Don't worry. I've got a spare."

After Scott unlocks the car, he digs the jack and lug wrench out of the trunk. Before long, he's busy changing the flat tire. I pace around the parking lot until the craving for a cigarette hits me. Then, I open the car to get one from my purse.

"You know, Scott, I was just thinking."

"About what," he inquires.

"Kevin's roommate might know where he was heading."

"I'm sure he would've told the cops that."

"Fuck, I guess we're back to square one."

When I light my cigarette, I notice something stuffed underneath the car seat. Curious, I pull it out to see what it is. It's a pair of red satin panties - the same pair taken from my hotel room last night.