When the song ended we were breathless and laughing. It was kind of exhilarating. Though I doubted I’d try that with anyone other than him.
“Come on, let’s get you a drink,” he offered as he led me back to my men. Ryker pulled me close when we reached the bar. They had a round of beers for us already so Sully and I took ours.
“Here’s to a successful trip,” I offered up. Everyone moved closer and clicked their bottles against mine.
“I’ll drink to that,” Lincoln grinned. “I fucking missed this.”
“You say that now, just wait until your blankets are ripped away in your sleep,” Ryker offered.
Lincoln shrugged. “I’m a deep sleeper, I won’t mind.”
“Well, you’re definitely not local,” the bartender said as he came up to us. The curious way he studied us was at least more polite than the diner patrons.
“No,” Ethan agreed. “We’re staying up at the museum for a month for work.”
The bartender let out a low whistle and raised his eyebrows. “Aye. Have fun with that one.”
“Do you know something we don’t?” I prompted. The fact I kept my voice curious and not eager was a fucking miracle. After the reaction from our waitress I didn’t want a repeat.
“Just about every local legend centers around that beach. The dark widow, a shadowy figure who wanders the shore crying out for her lover lost at sea. We’ve got the skeletal hands that reach up from the depths, grabbing anyone stupid enough to swim too close. The list goes on.”
“We did hear a story about the lighthouse keepers disappearing,” Sully added with a shrug. He was the picture of disinterested. The dark chuckle from the bartender had a shiver going through me. He was good at using his smoky, ominous voice to draw our attention and damn it was working on me.
“Sure, they all just ‘disappeared,” he scoffed. “Or joined the sea. They were as eccentric as they come. Kept to themselves and steered clear of anyone in town. The only one who came through was the wife for groceries every few weeks. Those poor kids.” The bartender was a weathered man, I couldn’t even begin to guess how old he was. But from the conviction in his tone, I knew he had this information firsthand. Likely a young boy during that time.
“Wouldn’t they have found the bodies if they just walked into the sea?” I asked.Note to self, check the dates on the disappearances to see if this man was storytelling to scare newcomers or if he remembered them as a child.
“The night they disappeared you could hear their screams mixing in with the storm. It would have washed them away elsewhere, food for the fish,” he countered. “They say you can still hear the screams on stormy nights. That’s how you know a bad one will hit.”
“Good to know,” Lincoln said as he tipped his beer toward the bartender then took a long pull. “We were actually told to talk to Old Man Johnson. You know him?”
“Of course I do. He’s over there propping up the wall,” he said. We followed his pointed finger over to the jukebox. The man was swaying to the music. Between the weathered skin and red nose, this man had seen drink and sun a lot in his lifetime. But his eyes were sharp as a tack and cut right through us as we approached.
“Can’t a man enjoy music in peace?”
“We were told to find you,” Ben said evenly. “The waitress at the diner clammed up and said if we want real information, not just stories, to come see you. Apparently you’re a bit of a local legend.”
Old Man Johnson puffed his chest out at the compliment. “Aye. I am.”
“We’re working over at the museum. I hear you’re the man to ask about the hauntings over there,” Ben continued.
“Oh, that I can tell you plenty about,” he laughed, gesturing for us to take seats around him. A few patrons nearby tried to listen in but he didn’t seem to mind the spectacle. “I was just a boy, no older than ten, when I had my first brush with death. My father was a fisherman, like his father before him, and that particular day the sea was choppy. We’d gotten a fresh haul of fish and were close to shore when something grabbed our boat. Tipped us right over and left a gash down the side. It was like a claw had scratched right through. I was pitched into the waters and my father had to save me, drag me out. But it was too late, or at least he thought so. He was trying to bring me back and as I coughed up the water blocking my lungs, I saw her. A woman wearing a long white dress, her hair dark and cascading around her. But it was her eyes that got me. Pale and clouded over. Yet they stared into my soul. She backed away, beckoning for me to follow her but my father’s voice cut through. He saved me from more than one certain death that day.”
“Oh wow,” I gasped. “That’s terrifying.”
“Always the white dresses and long hair covering their faces,” Ethan groaned under his breath. “They’re the creepiest.”
“She follows me to this day like the grim reaper. In my dreams she calls for me to join her out there. If not for nearly dying I’d have thought I was crazy,” he scoffed bitterly. “The day I die I have a feeling she’ll be there to usher me to the other side.”
“Is she maybe not just a ghost, but someone who knows you?” Sully asked curiously. “Like a sister who died before you or something?”
“Nah, I was an only child. The goddess of the sea can take any form,” he said simply, like that was answer enough.
“Is that the only ghost out there?” Ryker inquired. Johnson shook his head and laughed.
“Nah, but I’m sure you’ve heard the rest from the bartender. He makes it his job to spin those stories into something truly of nightmares. Well. All but one.” I swear these old locals were hellbent on making us drag out these tales.
“Which is?” Lincoln asked bluntly.