They're hostages.

Geno Bonatello, Clover, and that horrid little girl. They were hostages to a force that no longer inhabited a mortal body, a body that had decomposed so severely it wasn't worth the effort of reanimation. Hopefully, Geno was now free.

Lyla snatched the striped top from the dryer and stormed up the basement stairs, through the kitchen, and out to the backyard. She opened the lid of the propane grill, placed the shirt on the grate, and ignited the burners. She watched it burn, consumed by flame until its charred remains contracted into a smoky rag. When she was satisfied that the fire had done its job, she turned off the burners and tromped alongside the house to the front porch. 

She sat on the porch steps, elbows planted on her knees, her chin in the cups of her hands. She knew the nosy neighbor was peeking through her mini-blinds but she didn't care. 

Her dad's car pulled into the driveway obscuring the neighbor's view of Lyla.

"Something the matter?" His eyebrows peaked like a roofline when he got out of the car.

She shook her head no.

"You still smell gas?" He came around the car to the porch steps, clasping a bag from Home Depot.

"Just needed some air. My head hurts from pretending I understand Chemistry."

"Lemme replace this thermocouple and we'll be back in business." He jogged into the house.

........

When Darcy steered her car into the Packer's housing plan the following afternoon, her eyes popped. "Are you serious? He actually lives here?"

"Yep."

"Jump on it, girl."

"It's not like that." Lyla sighed. "I mean it maybe could've been. But after all that..."

"So what about that Iron Man thing he's training with?"

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe he recovers way ahead of schedule. Look. You thought he was dead and now he's actually walking around." 

Lyla turned away. 

"Sorry. That was insensitive," said Darcy. "Just trying to keep it positive. Not that I'm one to give advice."

"It's not just about his legs and arm being paralyzed," Lyla said quietly. "He has a seriously bad brain injury." The words hurt when she said them. "Make a left up there."

"So how did he fix your laptop if he's so disabled?"

Lyla shrugged and said wistfully, "He's full of surprises."

"Look at these houses!" Darcy craned her neck. "Oh, my God! Is that a pear tree? Yeah, that's totally a real pear tree. They're teenie little pears. Look at them. They're adorable."

"Are you high?"

"No, I'm not high. Can't a girl appreciate a mini-pear?"

Lyla shook her head. "You just get weirder and weirder."

"Me?"

"Wait'll you see the house on the corner up here." Lyla pointed. "Looks about as big as our school."

"Okay, I'm just gonna say that robot suit totally sounds like a rich person thing."

"Yeah, probably is."

"If it was me or you, no robot suits for us."

Lyla dialed her phone.

"Hey," said Packer.

"Hey, we're almost there," Lyla replied.

"Can you. Just by yourself?"

"Huh?"

"Just you, okay?"

"Okay," said Lyla.

"Come in. Come through... through the garage."

"Okay."

"What's that about?" Darcy asked.

"He's prob'ly embarrassed about the way he looks. You okay with that?

"I thought he was gonna pop out naked or something." Darcy snickered.

"Something is seriously wrong with you."

Darcy drove up Packer's driveway and stopped in front of the open garage door.

"Holy shit." Darcy gulped. "This is one big-ass house."

"I'll be right back," Lyla replied then got out of the car and walked through the empty garage. When she entered the kitchen she heard his voice from the livingroom. "In here." He raised his hand.

She found him on the couch with her computer on his lap.

"How did you fix it?" she asked.

"I did, did a..." he stopped, took a breath, then slowed his speech. "I... did a Safe Boot... and reset your... your SMC. And some... some other stuff."

"I don't even know what you're talking about but thank you so much."

"So don't throw... throw it on the floor. Again."

"I won't."

"But I need... to tell me about this."

He opened the laptop and turned it to face her. On the screen was the image of the ghastly creature perched on the iron railing at the Ames burial site.

She choked on her words. She couldn't make eye contact.

"Drone foot... footage," he said. "Tell me."

She plopped down onto the edge of the couch, her face in her hands. "It's Keenan."

He didn't respond.

"That's where he's buried," she whispered. "That thing?" She shook her head.

He said nothing.

"You're not the only one who's seen him," she said, finally able to bring herself to look at Packer. "He just marked Jack's car with the O. Just like..."

"The Packer-mobile."

She nodded. "You prob'ly think I'm crazy, right?"

"So... those doc... Doctor Haden... and the others. They were, they were wrong... about you."

She met his eyes.

"You really... just like I did," he said. "You saw him."

She nodded.

"And he's... he's dead," he whispered.

A bigger, more definitive nod.

"Jack. Your... your boy... boyfriend."

"No. Not really," said Lyla.

He wasn't convinced. "So what... about this... what were you gonna.... about his grave?"

She searched her bag. "Someone who deals with hauntings and spirits and stuff," Lyla said. "She told me what to do." She produced Clarisse's letter, then handed it to him.

He began reading.

"I know," Lyla continued. "When I hear myself say things like that it sounds totally crazy." 

"I saw him... too. So you're... you're not... totally crazy."

"She said we need to salt and burn his remains."

"Dig? Dig him?"

Lyla nodded.

After a pause, Packer asked, "So what... what is that?" He tapped the screen with his finger.

She averted her eyes from the creature. "I have no clue."

She checked her phone when she got a message.

Jack: U home? I got the stuff.

Lyla: No.

Jack: I'll stop by later.

She texted her reply.

Lyla: No. My dad works tomorrow. Come tomorrow morning? Early? Before school?"

Jack: OK

When she glanced up from her phone, she met Packer's eyes. He looked at her the same way she looked at Jack when he was on a call with Carissa.