The Forgotten, Part 2

   I've only got one bar of reception, but I try anyway. The phone rings once, twice, five times... Just as I'm about to give up and hang up, she answers.

   "Hey, David, what's up? How's the vacation?"
   "Hey Mary. It's alright, I guess. I just needed to hear someone else's voice for a while."
   "Aww, getting a little lonely? I told you you should've brought Amy with you."
   "Mary. We broke up a month ago. I needed some alone time."
   "And yet now here you are, complaining of being lonely." I can hear the smirk in her voice. My sister is younger than me and revels in any victory over me, no matter how small. 
   "More like cabin fever. Did you get the picture I sent?" I ask, attempting to steer the conversation onto lighter topics. 
   "Of the daisies? Yeah, I did. I am so jealous of whoever owns that house, to be able to have that view whenever they want. If I owned it, I'd never rent it out, just live there." She sighs.
   "I'll tell the owners, but somehow I don't think they share your enthusiasm. Certainly not in regards to gardening." I smile. I was right, talking to her was making me feel better. 
   She laughs, then pauses for a moment, as if she's checking something. "Wait, didn't you say you were alone?"
   A small chill runs down my spine. "I am. Why?"
   "Do you have the TV on?"
   "No? Mary, what is it?" I glance around, the unease quelled by hearing her voice rising again. "Mary?"
   She pauses again before replying. "It's nothing." She says. "Must've just been hash on the line. I thought I heard someone saying 'therefore rotten' or something--"
   She cuts off just before a wave of static comes over the line. For a moment I fancy I can hear a voice whispering 'therefore rotten' before the line clears again. 
   "--gardener or something?" Mary finishes, sounding uncertain.
   "What? I missed all of that. Say again?"
   "Do you have a gardener or anything like that?" She repeats a little more strongly. 
   "No, I'm completely alone." I answer, exasperated and more than a little creeped out. "The nearest life is over four hours away. Why, Mary? What's wrong?"
   "In the picture, the garden--" A surge of static engulfs her words, cutting off whatever she was about to say, before the line abruptly goes dead. I can feel my pulse quickening, the palms of my hands sweating, making the phone slippery. I no longer have any reception. Frantically-quickly, I go into my photos and look through the six I took most recently.
   The garden, she said. What's wrong with the garden? My eyes flick back and forth, left-right-down-down-left-right-down, until I see it.

   A person, so obvious it's ridiculous I missed him until now. In all the photos, bottom-left of screen, looking directly at the camera, at the phone, no, past the phone, at ME, in all six exactly the same. His face looks sad. No, not sad; miserable. He has the look of someone who has lost everything. He looks scared. He looks terrifying.
The thing that scares me most, though, more than his grey-blue skin and clothes, more than the fact that he looks almost transparent, insubstantial, is the fact that I didn't see him. I looked through the photos multiple times, but I somehow managed to overlook him, and I can't help shake the feeling that if Mary hadn't pointed him out, I would never have seen him.
   A high-pitched ringing starts up in my ears. Years of habit reveal themselves when I open my mouth to pray for the newly lost soul, before reality reasserts itself. 
   I shove the unease from my mind and storm outside. If someone was in the garden then they were trespassing. 
   "Hello?" I call out. "I know you're out there. I saw you!"
   Silence is my only reply. The ringing gets imperceptibly louder, the hairs on the back of my neck raising a little. 
   "He has to be around here somewhere," I mutter to myself. "Come out! I'm not playing around! I'll call the police!"
   The ringing suddenly spikes, pressure and pain building in my ears until I'm forced onto my knees through sheer force of hurt. 
   Oh God, it hurts, why does it hurt so bad-- What have I done-- have my eardrums burst-- Oh God oh GOD OH GOD--
   Just when I think it can't possibly hurt any more, the pain disappears. The fog of agony lifts from my mind and I'm left kneeling on the dry grass, my heart racing, lungs pumping and mind whirring. A chill runs down my spine and something flickers on the outside of sight. I spin around and almost catch sight of him before he disappears into the bushland. Hauling myself to my feet, I stagger after him.
   "Hey, get back here!" I yell. I can't shake the feeling that the pain was somehow his fault. I'm not letting him get away from me.