Ghosts of the Last Chance

Part 3

We last left Erin having started work at the Last Chance gas station somewhere in a small town in the west.  After being shown the illusion called a Pepper’s Ghost, which uses light to make a figure appear on glass, he was informed that even though the whole thing was a trick, it shouldn’t work without being plugged in!  His new manager had gone into the store to deal with a customer at the last break. 

Erin found himself alone with the “ghost” as it moved back and forth against the glass window pane.  On the other side, he saw only the mostly empty parking lot, and the thin ribbon of road that led back up to the interstate.  One third of the cars in the parking lot was composed of his truck, and another third had been there when he pulled up, so he assumed it was Chantelle’s Honda.  There was nothing particularly alarming about the newest car, the one he assumed belonged to a customer who had just showed up.  It was still running, but that wasn’t too unusual.  He had noticed that it was more common than not for people around here to keep their cars running while they attended to errands inside.  Not an extremely environmental bunch, he laughed to himself.  Or one that worried about having their cars stolen, he added to himself.

While it ran, the car hitched and chugged in a way that didn’t sound especially healthy.  It was a long car—if he had to guess, maybe a late 70s or early 80s American sedan.  The setting sun made it impossible to accurately gauge the color, but it was dark, in any case.  Smoke leaked from the exhaust.  Again, nothing that was “wrong” about it, per se.  Older cars were also common around here.  And while it wasn’t exactly a “classic,” he could see why someone would hold on to it.  Still, it made him anxious for some reason.

“Not this again,” said a voice extremely near him.  He somehow jumped and froze at the same time.  There was no one around him on any side.  The only one even remotely close was the pepper’s ghost image—Ryan, he remembered Chantelle had called it—which was still looping back and forth.

As he stared at Ryan, suddenly remembering that the light wasn’t even plugged in, the blue-lit image stopped and stared back at him.  “We don’t have a lot of time,” it said.

He had always prided himself on being brave enough, as far as it goes.  He had never blanched at the sight of blood, or run from a fight.  Never had a nightlight or worried about monsters under the bed.  Later he would blame his highly attuned fight or flight response for showing his feet the way to the exit.

As he rounded the corner to the back door of the Last Chance, ready to demand some serious answers from Chantelle, he heard something much more immediately worrying than possible proof of the afterlife.

The distinct sound of a shotgun being racked seared through the air from the front counter to where he was hidden in shadow in the back.

“There’s two cars here,” a high, reedy voice said.  “Who else is here with you?”

He had no idea how long the pause in her response actually lasted, but it felt like nearly an eternity.

“Th-that’s Ryan,” she said.  Erin didn’t know whether to be relieved, or even more worried.  He wasn’t a coward, and he wouldn’t abandon Chantelle to whoever was at the front of the store, but he hadn’t had time to come up with a decent plan for exactly what to do to help yet. 

“Well, get him in here!” the man yelled.

“I can’t,” Chantelle said.  “We’ll have to go to where he is.”

Erin could almost hear the man trying to make sense of that from where he stood.  “Why?” he finally asked.

“Well, he can’t move,” Chantelle said.  “We’ll have to walk over to him.”

“Fine,” the man said, and he heard the two of them moving to the entrance.  His concern about the immediate crisis overrode his concern about the talking ghost, and he crept back around to the window to see what was happening.  

As he moved toward the glass again, the ghost said, “I always hate this part.”

To be concluded in the next available issue!