Sleep Stalker (Ghosts Beyond the Grove Book 1)

SLEEP STALKER

GHOSTS BEYOND THE GROVE PART ONE

by Joy Elbel

Sleep Stalker, Ghosts Beyond the Grove Part One

© 2015 by Joy Elbel

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Dedicated to those who suffer from that which is unseen.

“It may not be romantically eloquent, but you gotta take the good with the bad.”

–Zach Mason

Acknowledgements

     So I can’t help but notice that this section changes dramatically with each book I write.  I used to owe that to life changing.  At this point, I realize that life isn’t what’s changing—
I
am.   

www.SelfPubBookCovers.com/
yvonrz
—for the awesome cover design.  It fit so well with my plot that I couldn’t pass it up!

Jessica Marie Brown—inspiration for the character Salma.  She is every bit as mystical as her fictional counterpart.  Check out her vintage finds and handmade jewelry on Etsy and tell her Ruby sent you! 
https://www.etsy.com/shop/LonelyMoonChild

Ruby and Zach—though you’ve suffered many setbacks in your short time together, there really is a light at the end of the tunnel.  Keep moving forward until you find it.

Table of Contents

  Foreword

  Prologue

  1.  Wing Man—Zach 

2.  Hotbed of Confusion—Ruby

  3.  Star Quality—Zach

  4.  Common Ground—Ruby

  5.  Fed Up—Zach

  6.  Digging for Answers—Ruby

  7.  Left Hanging—Zach

  8.  Mountain vs. Molehill—Ruby

  9.  Head in the Clouds—Zach

10.  Feet on the Ground—Ruby

11.  Fight or Flight—Zach

12.  Caught in a Landslide—Ruby

13.  Any Way the Wind Blows—Zach

14.  The Fault is Mine—Ruby

15.  Unaired Theory—Zach

16.  Down with the Sickness—Ruby

17.  Lifting Weights—Zach

18.  Downtime—Ruby

19.  Rising Spirits—Zach

20.  Down in the Dumps—Ruby

21.  Winds of Change—Zach

22.  Losing Ground—Ruby

23.  Turning it Up a Notch—Zach

24.  Standing My Ground—Ruby

25.  Up in the Air—Zach

26.  Hit the Ground Running—Ruby

27.  Heaven Scent—Zach

28.  All Downhill from Here—Ruby

29.  High Anxieties—Zach

30.  Landing Gear—Ruby

31.  Spaced Out—Zach

32.  Down to the Wire—Ruby

33.  Icarus Reflected—Zach

34.  Touchdown, Arizona—Ruby

35.  As Above…—Zach

36.  …So Below—Ruby

37.  Anguish and Apogee—Zach

38.  Earthquake—Ruby

39.  Secrets and Syzygy—Micah

Foreword

    
Sleep Stalker is told in alternating viewpoints.  Odd numbered chapters belong to Zach with the final chapter being the only exception. The even ones are all told from Ruby’s perspective.  As such, new chapters don’t always pick up exactly where the last one left off.  Sometimes they see incidents in completely opposite ways.  But one thing is for certain—
you
are guaranteed to see that an incredibly confusing force has invaded their lives.  Zach may be the target; but what affects him, ultimately affects her as well.

Prologue

     Crazy.  It’s a word we all use casually and probably on a daily basis.  “If you think I’m going to get up at 5 am to cook breakfast for you, you’re crazy!”  “Two hundred dollars for
that
ugly purse?  They must be crazy!”  “She’s a nice person but I don’t want to hang out with her—her nonstop chatter drives me absolutely crazy.”  After what I went through—what
we
went through—I try not to fling that word around nonchalantly anymore.

     True insanity has nothing to do with bacon or eggs, designer labels, or even overly-talkative friends.  True insanity is not knowing what is real and what is illusion.  It’s a metaphorical precipice.  It’s a jagged cliff where you stand and dangle one foot over the edge not realizing that you’re putting yourself in danger.  It’s when your thoughts race yet somehow slow down at the same time.  Nothing at all makes sense anymore.  Nothing.  Silence screams at you at a deafening level so you scream back until your throat is raw.  Time runs in circles around you until the vertigo makes you sick.  Insanity.

     When we left Charlotte’s Grove, I thought the worst was behind me—behind
us
—but the real challenge was still to come.  It took several years for Zach to sift through his memories and find the courage to put all of the pieces back together into one fascinatingly ugly picture for me.  I often wondered if there were things he left out, things too frightening for him to produce from his subconscious mind.  Or possibly things he was too ashamed to share with me.  I will never get those answers in this life.

     Shades, phantoms, wraiths, spirits—none of them even remotely prepared me for what I faced that first year in Ohio.  When we left Pennsylvania, Zach and I crossed more than just the state border.  We entered a gray area—a shadowy place where you question what’s real and what isn’t.  A place where happy endings don’t seem to exist.  But just when I was about to give up hope, I found the answer unexpectedly and from an unlikely source. 

     The lesson I learned was this—no matter what is going on, you have to continue moving forward.  Follow the signs the universe leaves for you.  If I hadn’t kept going, I never would have found the solution.  Two words kept me moving in the right direction.  Go forth. 

     With that being said, go forth and read—read the tale Zach would not give me permission to write while he was still alive.  Go forth and read what will fittingly be my final novel. 

     Go forth.

Ruby Rose Mason

1.  Wing Man

     Being in an airplane as it soared high above the clouds was the most miraculous sensation I’d ever felt.  Airports, however, suck.  When the plane landed in Chicago, I was only supposed to have forty-five minutes to find my gate and board the flight back to Pittsburgh.  O’Hare International Airport was vast and visually stunning—a place I would have gladly roamed casually for hours for its aesthetic value alone.  If there had been more time, of course.  And if I hadn’t been desperately looking forward to getting back home.  Back home to Ruby.  My adventures in California were fun but starting our new life together was what I was most excited about.

     I compared my boarding pass to the flight board to see what direction I needed to go then headed for gate 11A.  The last week of my life had been a dream come true for me.  I couldn’t wait to tell her all of the little details that a text or quick phone call couldn’t do justice to.  In my head, I was already visualizing the smile on her face when she met me in Pittsburgh.  If I missed this flight, I was going to be seriously pissed.

     I jogged the length of that airport never once coming close to colliding with anyone.  Until I took my eyes off of my path for a brief second to look at the sign above me, that is.  Gate 11A.  Just as I heaved a sigh of relief that I’d gotten to the gate on time, I crashed into someone with a brain rattling jolt. 

     Looking down to see who I needed to apologize profusely to, I found a boy standing in front of me dazed and trying to shake off the brutal hit I’d dealt him.  He was about the same age as me but nowhere near my size.  In fact, he was probably a full inch or two shorter than Ruby and appeared to be just as delicate as she was.  Leave it to me to injure the one Hobbit in the entire airport.

     “Hey, I’m sorry about that buddy—I’m in a hurry to catch my flight.  Are you okay?” 

     Before he had a chance to reply, the gate attendant’s voice boomed through the PA system.  “Flight 604 to Pittsburgh is experiencing an unexpected delay.  Boarding for that flight will begin in approximately one hour.  We apologize for any inconvenience.”

     “Dammit!” I shouted in frustration.  “All I wanna do is go home!” 

     The Hobbit, still dazed and with a frightened look on his face replied, “You and me both, dude.”

     After the announcement, I’d almost forgotten that I’d rammed into the poor kid like a freight train flattening a penny on the tracks.  “I hit you pretty hard.  Are you alright?  You look like you’re ready to throw up.  First flight jitters?”

     Rachel.  I sounded just like Rachel, my twin sister.  It didn’t happen often, but occasionally my thoughts flowed out of my mouth with the same rapid fire speech pattern she was famous for.  One of the unavoidable dangers of being a twin, I suppose.  But I was able to do what she rarely seemed capable of doing—I reigned my tongue in and gave him a chance to reply.

     “Um, yeah, I, I’m okay,” he stuttered.  “Just nervous, that’s all.”

     I sat down in the first empty seat I found and tossed my carryon onto the floor beside me.  The Hobbit placed his duffle bag next to mine but remained standing.  He looked as anxious as I felt last Saturday while I paced the gate in Pittsburgh before
my
first time in an airplane.  At least Ruby and my parents were with me to help calm me down—this kid was totally alone.  Until now. 

     I’d been hesitant to speak to strangers since my near death experience a few months earlier.  Why?  Because I’d made myself look crazy on multiple occasions by talking to ghosts in public not realizing that they weren’t actually alive.  Ruby and Rita both assured me that I would eventually become better able to discern who was dead and who wasn’t but in the meantime, I chose to curb any unnecessary social interactions.  But this kid looked so scared and alone and I felt partially to blame for that.  So for the Hobbit—I made an exception.

     “My name’s Zach—Zach Mason.  I’m sorry I ran into you—I thought I was going to miss my flight which of course ended up being delayed anyway.  Are you heading to Pittsburgh too?”

     “Uh, yeah.  Pittsburgh,” he said as he cautiously took the seat next to mine.  “And Micah, my name is Micah Sloan.”

     I studied him for a moment, trying to figure out what to say next.  Usually, I was fairly good at finding that one topic that would get someone to open up and start talking.  Micah wasn’t just an exception to that rule, he was a walking enigma.  Multiple facial piercings and the gaudy oversized heart tattoo on his forearm stood in drastic contrast to the designer clothes and shoes he was wearing and the fact that he smelled like baby powder.  His almond-shaped eyes seemed sad, desperate—hungry even—as he stared at the empty seat across from him.  Those were the eyes of someone hungry for something unattainable, something just out of reach. 

     As if on cue, my stomach decided to suddenly make me aware of the fact that I hadn’t eaten since leaving Santa Ana very early that morning.  A thunderous growl burst forth from my midsection loud enough to snap Micah back out of the trance he was in. The flight home wouldn’t be long enough for in-flight meals so at least the delay was good for one thing—it gave me plenty of time to forage the nearby fast food places so I didn’t starve to death in mid-air. 

     “I’m gonna go grab something to eat. Will you watch my bag for me?  I’ll be right back.  There isn’t a line so it should only take a minute.”

     “Sure, as long as you bring something back for me.  I’ve had a bad craving for hot wings since last night but I’m assuming I’ll have to settle for some chicken nuggets.  I’m totally starved—I haven’t eaten yet today.”  Micah leaned back in his seat and dug into the pocket of his jeans, producing one wrinkled dollar bill and a single quarter.  With a sigh, he placed them into my hand, “Never mind—just get me the largest quantity of food this will buy.”

     I nodded and walked away feeling terrible.  There was no way I was going to sit down next to him with a huge burger and fries while he ate a child-sized portion off of the value menu.  When I got to the counter, I saw that they offered a family pack—four burgers, four small fries and ten chicken nuggets.  With more than enough money in my own pocket thanks to my recent brief gig as a rock star, I added two chocolate milkshakes and two cherry pies to the order and returned to my seat with a feast for the two of us.

     “Thank you,” he said between bites, devouring his share of the nuggets before I even got the paper wrapping off of my first burger.  “You have no idea how much you’ve helped me, Zach.  No idea at all.” 

     “You’re welcome,” I said, shoving my cherry pie into the front pocket of my bag. 
That
was the best part of the meal—I was saving it for an in-flight snack.  As I took the first bite of my burger, I noticed just how much a decent meal had changed Micah’s demeanor.

     His eyes looked clearer, less troubled than they had moments ago.  I was proud not only of my good deed but that I had managed to trust my instincts and help him out.  I hadn’t done anything nice for anyone I didn’t know well in quite some time.  But for the last few minutes, I felt almost like the old me—the Zach who existed before the shooting, before ghosts became a daily worry for me.  Ruby said it would take time but….

     No sooner did I think her name than I looked up to see her weaving her way through the swarm of travelers at gate 11B.  It took a few months for me to get used to seeing her with curly hair, but now I was able to instantly pick her out of a crowd. 

     “Ruby?!” I exclaimed, dropping my burger back into the box and running to meet her.  She wanted to go to California with me but my trip was too last minute.  My first semester at Pendleton officially started in two days.  The only option that made sense was for her to stay behind and start moving our things to Ohio.  I thought I would have to wait a few more hours to see her but there she was.  It was just like her to fly out to Chicago for the sole purpose of flying right back to Pittsburgh with me.  She shouldn’t have wasted the money on my account but I was glad that she did.  I couldn’t have asked for a better girlfriend.  No one could.   

     “Ruby!” I shouted, my eyes fixated on her as she glided in and out of the throng of passengers lining up to board their flight.  She was wearing a dress I’d never seen before, something very off track from her usual taste in clothing.  The dress was an orange and brown tribal print of some sort that reached all the way to the floor.  It was different but I loved it.  She changed a lot during those last few months of our senior year but so did I.  Thankfully, we didn’t grow apart—we grew separately yet together. 

     As the crowd milled into a tight line, I caught sight of her toward the back.  She smiled in recognition and called back to me.

     “Zach!” 

     Even with all of the noise around me, I heard her speak my name as though she were right beside me whispering directly into my ear.  It had only been a week since I’d last seen her, but the sound of her voice sent pleasant tingles up my spine.  But at that very same moment, so did my cell phone.

     I got an incredibly weird feeling just then, an odd premonition of sorts.  Even though she was right in front of me—her cell nowhere to be seen—I somehow
knew
that my phone’s vibrations were caused by a call from her.  And when I pulled it out of my pocket to check, I found that I was somehow right.

     “Ruby?  Is that you?” I asked hesitantly, eyes trained on the girl in the tribal print dress who was excitedly waving to me and beckoning me to join her.  Still no phone in either of her beautifully delicate hands.

     “Of course it’s me, silly!  I just called to let you know that we’re running late.  We took the wrong exit and ended up getting caught in stadium traffic.  The Steelers beat the Ravens, by the way—knocked the feathers right off of them as Dad would say.  But what are you doing answering your phone?  I expected this to go straight to your voicemail.  Shouldn’t you be in airplane mode right now?”

    “Yes,” I replied shortly and ended the call immediately.  My head was confused and clouded by the fact that the Ruby I was speaking to and the Ruby I saw in front of me were two distinctly different people.

     While it made more sense for the real Ruby to be the one I’d just hung up on quite rudely, I was
certain
that the girl at the far end of the gate was my girlfriend.  My phone began to ring again but I ignored it—I
had
to talk to the girl in the orange and brown dress.  I
had
to talk to the real Ruby. 

     The closer I got to her, the more convinced I was that the girl in front of me was the girl I loved more than life itself.  When I got about twenty feet away from her, she moved slightly to her left and disappeared behind the man in front of her.  And when I say “disappeared”, I mean she truly
disappeared
.

     She simply vanished—was gone without a trace.  That dress was bright and unmistakable yet I could see no hint of its pattern anywhere in the vicinity.  I began to get panicky, fearing that this was some sort of death omen.  Could I possibly be seeing her spirit before it even left her body?  Terrified, I started frantically shouting to everyone willing to listen to me.

     “The girl in the orange print dress!  Where is she?  Where did she go?  She was standing right here a minute ago!  Did anyone see where she went?  I need to find her!”

     Almost everyone ignored me.  The ones who didn’t, merely gave me blank stares or shrugged their shoulders nonchalantly.  Shaken, I begged them one more time.

     “Does anyone remember seeing her
at all
?”

     This time, those who responded to my pleas all shook their heads no. 

     I lowered my head and took a few deep breaths.  Maybe once I calmed down, I would look up and see her standing in front of me.  If I had any hope of finding her, I needed to stop freaking out first.  Counting to ten wasn’t sufficient time to soothe my rattled nerves so I tacked on five more. 

     When I raised my head, I saw two airport security officers approaching me but still no sight of my girlfriend.  While I felt like I was going absolutely insane on the inside, I
had
to project the complete opposite.  I had to look normal—
act
normal—so they didn’t boot me off of the flight.  If Ruby really wasn’t in Chicago, I needed to get home to her right away.  Something was terribly wrong.  Terribly.  Wrong.

     Before they had a chance to ask me what my problem was, I calmly—on the outside anyway—offered an explanation for my strange behavior.

     “I’m so sorry for the disturbance I just caused.  I thought I saw someone I knew but I was obviously mistaken.  It’s been an awfully long day and I just want to make it back home to Pittsburgh.  Everything’s good now—I swear.”

     Unconvinced that I wasn’t an on the lam psycho, they asked me for my ID and boarding pass which I gladly agreed to show them.  With some seriously phony confidence, I led them back to gate 11A where I’d left my bag.  When Micah looked up from his French fries, I gave him a weak fake smile.  In return, he gave me a look of dread, the look of a condemned man trudging toward the gallows. 

     Micah began to fidget in his seat, methodically wiping the grease from his fingers onto the leg of his pants after each fry he consumed.  That’s when I started to question my newfound “friend”.  As I reached into my bag to retrieve my paperwork for the guards, a look of sheer horror spread across his face.