Walking With Ghosts (A Short Story) - Plot & Excerpts
It hung heavy, like an accusation of murder or a bell that chimed out every man’s doom. Unspent tears shone from each face. The more vocal were screaming threats into the killers face, but this wasn’t 24, and none of them were Jack Bauer.The fact a child had died hadn’t even begun to sink in yet.Josie stared at the shovels. Three of them, all encrusted with hard residue. The floor around their blades was clean. Maybe he’d cleaned them off already.One of the uniforms said: “Where the hell would you bury anyone between York centre and here?”Josie stared. The shovel’s were dry, pitted with old dirt. The man’s clothes were coated in orange dust and cement. She walked over to the shovels, crouched down and peered closely.There was something else, a small blade hiding behind them. She looked around, caught Kett’s eye. “Look at this.”He crouched down beside her. “What’s that? A. . .a trowel?”“A builder’s trowel,” Josie said. “For a grave-digger?” Something deep was starting to speak to her, and not the spirits this time.
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