Digger - The Doctor Will See You Now by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 31

The old man had obviously embellished during the telling of his story. No one could know that much detail about events going back some twenty years. By the time he had finished, the teenagers had moved closer to each other, as though sharing body heat. They were, however, as terrified by the story he told as by his presence, but they remained silent throughout, from beginning to end. After the fire burned down from blazing logs to dying embers, the dim orange light cast a haunting glow against the old man's face, lighting his long white hair with a tinge of gold. He grinned oddly and spoke in an almost taunting manner. "Now, that ain't just another ghost story, is it? Not when it's true."

Samantha spoke up first. She had the uncanny ability to remain calm under the most stressful circumstances. "You know, guys," she began. "It's getting really late. We should probably turn in."

Everyone quickly agreed, and getting up from in front of the fire, they quickly headed towards the cabin. But Samantha became curious and made one small request of the old man.

"Can I ask what your name is?"

The old man continued sitting on the log, his eyes staring through her as a silent warning that questions would not be tolerated. Seeing his expression, Samantha's sudden discomfort led her to step back, away from the old man's angry eyes.

"Um, we're going to turn in," she began. "So you should probably go, okay?"

But her words fell on deaf ears as the old man remained on the log, his eyes burning into her. She was not easily intimidated, but the old man's ancient appearance and penetrating gaze made her feel more than a little spooked.

The moment was suddenly broken by a tapping on the window from inside the cabin. She turned briefly to see Jake with an expression of urgency, and turning back to the old man, she found his expression unchanged. "I have to go," she said.

There was no response. She walked away and into the cabin, and closing the door behind her, Samantha approached the group. Mark was sitting at the dining table with his laptop open while everyone stood over his shoulder, their eyes fixed on its display. Everyone but Becky, who sat in the next room with her knees pulled up to her chest, was crying quietly. Samantha glanced back through the window, where the old man continued sitting in front of the fire, staring into its slowly dimming embers. "Sam," Jake began. "You have got to see this." She stepped behind Mark, who had accessed an online article about the twenty-year-old story. "What am I looking at?" she asked. "I googled the word Digger," Mark began. "This was the only article that came up."

He scrolled through the article, skipping most of the details. Samantha looked back again. Now, the old man was making heavy eye contact.

"Shit," she whispered. "I wish I knew how to get rid of this guy."

As Mark scrolled down the article, everyone was stunned. With the story was the police sketch created some twenty years ago.

"Holy shit!" Kyle said.

They all shared the same reaction. "You are fucking kidding me."

Seeing the picture as well, Samantha turned back to the window, only to find that the old man was gone. "Guys," she began. "How long did it take him to walk over to the fire?"

"Um, I don't know," answered Jake. "He seemed pretty lame though, why?"

She had taken her eyes off him for only half a minute, maybe. But the tone of her voice drew everyone to the window, their eyes searching the darkness outside. "Where the fuck did he go?" Mark asked. They split up, searching the darkness through the rest of the windows, and as far as anyone could tell, there was nothing to see. Everyone gathered around Mark's laptop again. The police sketch bore a striking resemblance to the old man who wandered into their camp, told a gruesome story, then disappeared. A story that, as it turned out, was true. Then, he seemed to have simply vanished, almost in front of their very eyes. Samantha continued to be the one in control. "Let's make sure all the windows and doors are locked," she said.

The cabin was sealed up for the night. "What about Becky?" Jake asked. Becky was still curled up in the fetal position, her face buried in her knees as she rocked back and forth slightly. "I'll deal with her," Samantha replied.

No one slept. The darkness of that night's events had successfully induced a group insomnia. Even Samantha, as strong as she was, found sleep an elusive creature. It was not the darkness of the night that robbed everyone of sleep. It was the darkness that sprung up from the old man's story and subsequent sudden disappearance that haunted them. But the darkness can hide many things. It can cloak the madman in all of us or pound its way through the bolted door of the subconscious mind. But one thing is certain: There’s nothing better than a good ghost story.

End