Thursday, September 17, 2015

Shadows Disinterred: Day 15

Word Count: 90,022

Summary of Events:
Dallas overheard some more discussions between Shirley and Deby and also began to experience some viciously painful nightmares. Dallas was thwarted in several attempts to get into the barn to dig for bodies too, but made it into the basement again — not long enough to see anything before he was knocked out and dragged upstairs to be questioned, though. He also found that the pain from his nightmares was continuing into day to day life, puzzling him.

Excerpt of the Day:
""What were you doing in the basement?" Deby demanded.
The basement? The basement! Right. "I couldn't find either one of you, and there was no note," Dallas replied. "I saw a light downstairs, so I decided to see if one of you was down there."
"The light was on?" Deby asked in surprise.
"Yes, the light was on," Dallas lied.
"And you thought you would be allowed to go down there and look for us?" Deby asked.
"Well, I haven't been here without at least one of you here before, and so I wanted to find out whether I was alone or not," Dallas replied. "I was thinking because there was no note there might've been an emergency or something."
"And you thought you were going to find us in the cardboard boxes," Deby asked flatly.
"Well, all of the sudden the light went out," Dallas replied. "I was trying to find the wall, and I found the boxes. And then you hit me."
"I hit you?" Deby asked.
"Either you or Shirley, unless there are ghosts around here," Dallas replied.
Deby's face went pale again.
"There are no ghosts around here!" Shirley roared.
Dallas lifted his head and saw Shirley sitting in the chair; like Deby her face was pale, and she was glaring at him with her blue eyes vicious and her whole body trembling. Neither one of them seemed to like the idea of ghosts.
"Whatever you say," Dallas said.
Slowly he sat himself up. The throbbing in his skull kicked up a notch, but it wasn't too bad. He carefully shifted himself around so his back was to the back of the couch and he leaned back, closing his eyes, his entire body seemed to hurt worse, and he could feel where his handgun rested against his back like it was embedded into his back.
"I also have another question," Deby said, sitting astride Dallas' knees — which hurt.
She took a hold of Dallas' shirt and lifted it up. Dallas sucked in his sore abdomen despite the fact that he was sure Shirley and Deby would probably know full well about the bruises.
"What is this?" Deby asked, slipping a finger behind his holster belt, clearly visible above the waistband of his jeans, and running it slowly across.
"A money belt," Dallas lied.
"It doesn't look much like a money belt," Deby said.
"It's a new style they've come out with, I like it," Dallas replied.
Deby nodded. "Why do you use a money belt?"
"Because I was mugged and had my wallet stolen once," Dallas replied. "I don't really want to risk it happening again."
"I don't think you'd have to worry about being mugged and robbed around here," Deby said, getting up — much to Dallas' relief.
"Well, I don't exactly keep a spare wallet handy for when I'm in safe areas," Dallas replied. "What's the point?"
Deby looked toward the fireplace, then nodded and headed off for the kitchen. Dallas saw Shirley move out the corner of his eye; he turned to look at her as she shakily made her way toward him."

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