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MARGE
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“YOU’RE NOT BAD FOR a woman,” Headless Rob called from the back seat, admiring the way Barb zipped around the potholes. “Reminds me of my moves when I was fleeing Armless John after raiding his stockpile of liquor.” He rubbed his chin. “Or was that Hairlip Harry?”
Something caught Marge’s eye up ahead. “My Jeep! It just turned down toward Old Emmett’s Point. There’s a cabin at the end of the road.”
Her Jeep was followed by an SUV, which also made the turn. “That’s Redneck’s car!” Cootie shouted. “And Ivy’s with him.”
“Hang on!” Barb said as she hung a right and followed Redneck’s SUV.
Marge looked at Barb. “Are you packing?”
“You mean, a gun?”
“No, an overnight bag. Yes, a gun.”
“You didn’t tell me to bring a gun.”
Marge held up her hand. “Stop the car!” Barb continued driving. “Stop!”
Barb slammed on the brakes. A cloud of dust surrounded the car. “What now?”
“I think it’s pretty obvious Redneck killed Cootie. And he’s going to try to do the same with them. You can’t go in there without a gun.”
“Heck, you’re ghosts. Can’t you protect me?”
“No. We don’t have solid form. We can’t stop a bullet from hitting you. The cabin’s not far. We’ll rush on ahead and see if we can provide any distractions to help the girls. You go back to the road. Drive slow. Find a spot where you can get a signal, call Deputy LeBlanc and tell him Redneck’s after them.”
Barb shifted into reverse and backed out of the dirt road.
“Boys,” Marge said to her fellow Sinful spirits, “we don’t want any new dead people today, okay?”
“What’s my job?” Cootie asked.
“To stay out of the way.”
Headless Rob’s head disappeared, replaced by the bloody, gory mass where the blade of a sword decapitated him more than 200 years ago. “It’s showtime.”