by Ken Kreps
©2002, all rights reserved

To read more short stories and articles by author Ken Kreps, visit http://www.kenkreps.com.
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"Bartender, a beer please."

"Si, senor, Corona?" the bartender said as he approached the man.

"Yes, Corona’s fine."

"Enjoy senor.  Ahh, Ten pesos, por favor."

"Oh yeah………there you go."

"Gracias, senor."

Taking a long sip from his beer, the American looked at the bartender for a moment before saying, "Say, maybe you can help me."

"Si?"

"We came here to visit the castle and…."

"The castle?"

"Yes, the Castle of San Rio."

"Ahh, si, senor.  We call it Casa de San Rio.  My apologies.  What can I tell you about it?"

"Well, maybe I should start from the beginning.  I’m Matt Barnes.  I teach history at a university in southern Missouri.  A student of mine wrote a paper on  the Castle of San Rio….I’m sorry, Casa de San Rio."

"Si."

"I’d never heard of such a place and at first I thought he just had a vivid imagination and was making the whole thing up, hoping for a better grade.  But then I did some research and discovered that his facts were correct.  Still, a lot of the information was incomplete.  I became intrigued with the story and decided to spend part of my summer getting a closer look.  So here I am. We just got in about an hour ago."

"We, senor Barnes?  Your wife?" the bartender asked.

"No," Matt chuckled.  "She thought I was sort of crazy for making such a long trip based on a student’s paper.  I’m here with Greg Mason, the student who wrote the paper.  He’s still over at the hotel."

"What can I tell you?"

"Well, our research shows that a man was murdered there in the late 1940’s.  Marcos San Rio…the owner of the castle."

"Si, that is correct.  Senor San Rio was also the founder of our small town."

"He was murdered by his wife?" Matt asked.

"Si."

Matt looked around the crowded cantina.  "And he…..I’m sorry, you have customers and I’m keeping you from them.  Perhaps later we can………"

"No, senor Barnes, I am also the owner.  Manuel, my assistant will take care of the customers.  Please go on."

"OK, ahh what should I call you?"

"Carlos.  You may call me Carlos," the bartender said.

"All right, Carlos, what can you tell me about the murder?"

"Well, it was as you say, a very long time ago, but the story is that his wife, Maria, who was much younger than senor San Rio, married him for his money.  She grew tired of waiting for him to die and one night she cut his throat while he was sleeping."

"For his money, you say.  Legend has it that his ghost still haunts the castle guarding a large vault of gold."

"Si, that is what people say."

Looking skeptical, Matt said, "Well, no one really believes all that do they?"

"Oh si, senor.   Many of our people believe his ghost still walks the halls of Casa de San Rio."

"And the gold?"

Carlos offered a soft laugh before saying, "Senor Barnes, I’m afraid that part of the story is not true.  Marcos San Rio was a man of means, but no proof of the gold has ever been found."

"That was the castle, I mean the Casa that we passed on the hill at the northern edge of town?"

"Si, the biggest building for two hundred miles in any direction.  It has over thirty rooms."

"How do we get in?  I mean do they have tours or……"

"Oh no, senor, you cannot get in.  It has been closed for many years.  There is no way to get in.  I’m afraid you and your student friend traveled a very long way for nothing."

"Wow, Greg will be crushed.  He wanted to do more research, first hand.  Absolutely no way to get in, huh?"

"No senor, I am sorry."

"We tried to call ahead, but you have no phones in town," Matt said.  "Well thank you, Carlos.  I guess we’ll spend the night and head back tomorrow.  Maybe we can at least get some pictures of the outside of the castle on our way out of town.  There is one more thing though.  Is there another road heading north near here?  The one we came in on doesn’t look like it’s been maintained for years.   I mean we drove my van down here and I don’t want  to tear it apart on the trip back."

"No, I’m sorry.  There is no other road.  We get few visitors to our little village of San Rio."

"All right, well thanks again, Carlos.  You’ve been very helpful."

Carlos drifted to the other end of the bar to wait on other customers and Matt, as if in deep thought, took a few minutes to finish his beer before walking out the door.  He turned to his right and walked only a few hundred feet on the dirt street before turning into the Hotel Vera Cruz which served as the only lodging available in San Rio.  Like the cantina, the hotel was many years past its prime, but its faded walls hinted of the more glorious days it had once known.  The lobby contained a run down couch, a few nondescript chairs and a front desk.  Behind the desk, the clerk sat sleeping on a wooden chair.  To the right of the lobby was a boarded up door which obviously had not been used in years.  Matt assumed it had once been a restaurant or bar in the hotel's better days.  The desk clerk didn’t stir as Matt passed and climbed the creaking stairs to the second and topmost floor.  Greg looked up from the magazine he had been idly thumbing through as Matt entered the room.

"So, how’d it go?" Greg asked.

"So far so good.  The cantina owner bought the story of us being from a university.  I talked loud enough so that some of the other locals heard me.  They think the van is mine.  That’ll give the police a dead end to chase until they find the stolen vehicle report."

"And the gold?"

"He denied there ever was any, but we know better don’t we?"

"Yeah," Greg answered.  "Thanks to your cellmate, if he’s telling the truth."

"Charlie lived in Mexico for years," Matt said  "He knows what he’s talking about."

"And just why did he tell you about the gold?"

"He said he couldn’t do the job alone and needed help.  That was before he disappeared a few months ago right after we both got out.  He was right about not being able to do it alone.  But we can still do the job without Charlie."

"Hey, bigger cuts for us," Greg smiled.  "You ever find out what happened to him?"

"Who knows.  Charlie always was a strange bird."

"Well, if he’s right, the cantina owner knows where the gold is."

A determined look crossed Matt’s face as he said, "He knows and he’ll tell us.  One way or another, he’ll tell us."

Greg stood up and ran his hand up and down one corner of the room.  "God, look at the cobwebs and dust in this room.  It’s filthy. It’s not going to be easy to sleep."

"Sleep….who’s planning on sleeping?  We’re doing the job tonight.  By this time tomorrow we’ll have enough gold to keep both of us happy for the rest of our lives."

The sun had just set when Matt returned to the Cantina with Greg at his side.  Carlos, still behind the bar, smiled as they entered.

"Ah, senor Barnes, you have returned."

"Yeah," Matt replied.  "Thought we’d get a bite to eat and a beer before turning in."

"And this must be the student you spoke of."

"Yes, Greg Mason. It was his paper that started all this.  Greg, this is Carlos."

Greg nodded and said nothing.

"Tell me senor Mason, our little town is so far, how you say, off the beaten path, how did you hear about Casa de San Rio?"

"Well, uhh….I ….well, it’s a long story.  I had to do a lot of research."

"Yes, just lots of hard work," Matt added.  "Say Carlos, our van is parked out back.  Would you mind looking at it?  I think you can help us with something."

"Well, senor, I know very little about automobiles."

"Oh, this isn’t a mechanical question," Matt assured him  "but I really think you can help."

"Well, of course, If I can help I would……"

"Fine, it won’t take a moment.  Shall we look at it now?"

"Certainly senor Barnes."

The three men went through the small kitchen of the cantina to the back door.  Once outside, the van was parked only a few yards away.

"Here we are," Matt said.

"Si, senor.  How may I assist you?"

Without warning, Matt grabbed Carlos, pulled him close, and pressed the business end of a revolver against his side.  "How may you assist us?" he snarled with a threatening voice.  "By showing us where the gold is hidden, Carlos, or had you rather I use this gun in your side to blow a hole in you?"

"Gold, senor?  I know nothing about gold."

"Stow it, Carlos.  We know about the gold and we know you know where it is."

"You are wrong senor Barnes.  I swear I do not…"

"Tell us or you have five seconds to live Carlos.  Take us to the castle and the gold now."

Speaking calmly, Carlso said, "I am not afraid of your gun.  I will take you there, but you will never leave San Rio with any gold."

"You let us worry about that, Carlos.  Just show us the gold." Greg told him.

It was a short drive to the castle which was silhouetted on a hill above the small town.  Greg drove while Matt sat in a back seat with Carlos.  Matt’s gun was still pressed tightly into Carlos’ side.  The dark castle loomed above them as the van made it’s way up the hill.  No visible entrance could be seen.

"OK, Carlos," Matt Growled.  " do we break into the castle or do you know a better way?"

"No, senor, we do not have to desecrate the casa by breaking in.   I will show you where to stop.  Up ahead, 200 feet.  Stop there."

Greg pulled the van to a stop where Carlos had indicated. The three men got out of the van and walked to a section of the tall stone wall.  The wall was unbroken by any sign of an entrance.

"Are you trying to trick us.?" Greg said.  "There’s no door here.  You’ve led us to a solid stone wall."

"Not quite solid, senor.  One only has to know which stone to push."

With that, Carlos reached out and put pressure on one of the stones in the wall.  A section of the wall slid open noiselessly and a long hall could be seen inside.

Matt shook his head in disbelief as they walked down the hall.  "I’ll be damned.  We wouldn’t have found that door in a million years."

"Look at these walls, Matt.  They look like they’re carved out of solid stone."

"Keep your flashlight off the walls," Matt cautioned.  "We need both lights on the floor.  Man, It’s musty.  Smells like no one’s been in here in years."

"You mean no one alive," Greg said laughing.

"Knock it off.  You don’t actually believe those stupid stories about ghosts, do you?"

"No, just having some fun, " Greg answered.

"I’ll have my fun when we’re out of here with the gold."

"You will not leave with any gold, senor," Carlos warned.

Matt turned suddenly towards Carlos and slapped him sharply across the face.  "Shut up, Carlos, or the next time I’ll……"

"My, God, Matt, look!!"

By now the three men had made several turns into other corridors, at the urging of Carlos.  As they rounded their final turn, a room loomed straight ahead.  Inside, glistening in Greg’s flashlight, stood hundreds of gold bars.

 "It was here.  Charlie was right," Matt cried.

Greg’s eyes grew wide and he couldn’t hide his joy as he said, "Gold bars, stacked in neat piles…..lots of neat piles."

"Come on..  It’ll take nearly an hour to load the van," Matt said.

"It’ll never hold all this gold, Matt."

"It won’t have to.  It’ll hold enough so that both of us can live like kings for the rest of our lives. The new springs and axles I had installed will do their job and we’ll be at the landing field by morning.  But first we have to take care of Carlos."

"Do we have to?" Greg asked.

"We have no choice.  We need a head start before anyone else knows the gold is gone.  OK, Carlos, this is…wha….where did he go?"

Matt looked in amazement at where Carlos had been standing.  He was no where to be seen.

"He was right there next to you," Greg said.

"Did he run past you?"

"No," Greg answered.  One minute he was there and the next he wasn’t.  Besides, on these stone floors, we’d have heard him running."

"People don’t just disappear into thin air.  Check the hallway."

Greg ran into the hall flashing his light first to the left and then to the right.

"No, the hall’s clear.  What should we do?"

"We load the gold."

"But Carlos will alert the town. He’ll bring them back."

"Let him.  You’ve seen the town.  How many can he bring?  We’ve enough firepower in the van to kill as many of them as we have to."

"Wait a minute.  I went along with your plan to kill Carlos, but you never said anything about more killings."

"We’ve come this far and I’m not going to let anything stand in our way.  I’ve been a loser all my life, pulling small jobs and doing time for most of them.  This is our one big score, Greg, and nobody can stop us.  Now are you with me or not?"

Wiith false bravado Greg said, "Uhh…yeah sure, yeah, I’m with you."

"All right.  Lets go move the van as close to the outside door as we can and start loading the gold."

With that Matt walked briskly out of the gold chamber and, when he got to the next corridor, turned to his right.

"Matt, where you going?"

"To the van."

"Your headed the wrong way.  It’s this way to the left."

Starting to get irritated, Matt said, "No, it’s not.  It’s this way."

"No, I’m sure we should take this hall to the left." Greg insisted.

"Look, I’m not going to argue with you.  It’s…"

Matt was cut off in mid sentence by what sounded like a large metal object striking the floor in the distance.

"What was that?" Greg shouted.

"I don’t know, let’s just get out of here and move the van."

A hoarse and whispering voice which seemed to come from the walls themselves said, "You are not welcome."

"Did you hear that," Greg said in fear.

"Just keep moving, the opening in the wall we came through should be just around the next corner.  What the……..?

"Oh my God, there’s no opening.  The hall just stops at the wall. Everything looks different than it did when we came in."

"Leave my casa," The ghostly voice roared.

"Come on Matt, let’s backtrack," Greg pleaded.  "We need to go that way and…"

Before Greg could finish his sentence, a figure appeared in front of them, as if materializing from thin air.

"My God, Carlos!!" Greg exclaimed.

"Si, senor Greg."

"Look, Carlos," Matt tried to explain.  " We weren’t really going to hurt you back there.  No, we were just trying to scare you, right Greg."

"Yeah, that’s right.  Naw, we wouldn’t hurt you Carlos.  We like you."

"I do not think so, senor.  I think you came here to steal the gold and to kill anyone who got in your way."

"No, you’ve got us all wrong, Carlos.  OK, maybe Greg and I did plan to steal the gold, but we wouldn’t hurt anyone.  Help us and we’ll make you a rich man."

"I am already rich, senor Matt, in ways you could never understand."

Come on, Carlos," Matt said,  "We’ve seen that little hole in the wall cantina you run.  No one could get rich running that dump."

"You have angered the spirit of Marcos San Rio.  Leave the casa senor Matt, you and your friend," Carlos warned.  "Leave the town of San Rio now, or you will never leave at all."

"Come on, that was your voice we heard trying to scare us."

"No. senor, that was Marcos San Rio.  He is angered when any mortal enters his home."

The sound of crashing metal was again heard in the distance.

"Oh, God, Matt, we’ve got to get out of here."

"Carlos, help us get out of here and we’ll cut you in for twenty percent," Matt offered.

Greg felt fear and panic begin to take hold of him.  "He just disappeared into thin air."

"That’s impossible,’ Matt answered.

"No, no, I tell you.  I was looking right at him and he just vanished."

"Oh stop it, Greg.  People don’t just vanish into thin air."

"Wha…what if he’s not a person?  I mean, what…"

"Get hold of yourself.  Carlos is real and there’s no such thing as ghosts."

Again a metal object was heard falling to the floor, closer this time.

Gregs knees began to sag.  "Oh God."

Pulling Greg by the arm, Matt began running down the hall, back the way they’d come.

"Come on, let’s go the way you said we should.  Come on, Greg, we’ll make it.  Here, turn right into this hall and…"

Rounding a corner they came face to face with a glowing apparition; four feet wide and eight feet tall and no more that fifteen feet ahead of them.

Greg fell to the floor and screamed, "Aeeeeeeeee!!"

For the first time since they'd entered the castle, Matt felt real fear as he said, "Wh….who are you?"

"I am Marcos San Rio.  Why have you entered my Casa?" the hoarse voice whispered.

Gaining a little composure, Matt said, "Well, ahh, we’re tourists.  Yeah, tourists.  We’d heard about this place and wanted to see it for ourselves.  We’ll go now."

"No, you came to steal my gold and now you will pay."

"Pay, now just a…"

"Oh, God," Greg interrupted.  "He gonna kill us.  We’ve got to get out of here.

"There is nowhere to run," the ghostly voice answered.

"Like Hell there isn’t.  Come on Greg."

 "Oh, we’re gonna die, Matt,"

"Shut up.  We’ll make it," Matt shouted as they dashed madly through the halls.  "Look up ahead.  You were right.  There’s the opening in the wall.  Keep going.  Hurry."

Up ahead, both men could make out the opening, beyond which they could see the light of the stars.  Racing as fast as they could, they dashed through the opening into the night air beyond.  Both gasped as they gulped in the fresh air of the outside world.

Greg could not hide his joy.   "We made it."

"Not yet.  We still have to move the van and load the gold."

"Load the gold?  Your not going back in there are you?"

"I didn’t come this far to leave without the gold."

"No, Matt.  The ghost will kill us if we go back inside."

"No ghost is going to kill us.  Don’t you see?  The whole thing’s a trick by Carlos and his friends to protect their gold.  Sure, they keep those ghost stories going, a few weird voices in the castle, drop some metal things at the end of the hall so we can hear them.  That’s all it is.  It’s smoke and mirrors.  It’s parlor magic.  Well, they’re not stopping me.  Anyone gets in my way I’ll kill them.  Now lets go move the van and start loading the gold."

"No, I can’t go back in there."

Matt glowered menacingly at Greg, "I said I’d kill anyone who got in my way and that includes you.  Now are you with me or against me?"

"All  Right.  I’ll help you," Greg said reluctantly.

"Good, Let’s go."

"Wait, listen."

"Greg, I’m warning you."

"No, listen.  Don’t you hear it?"

A low rumble of excited voices could be heard in the distance.

Glancing back down the road with led to San Rio, Greg said, "Look, down there, at the bottom of the hill.  It looks like the whole town’s coming."

"We’ve got to get to the van and get the weapons."

"Weapons?  My God, there’s more than a hundred people in that mob.  We can’t kill them all."

"If we have to."

"Even if we had the stomach for it, we wouldn’t be able to kill them all.  Some would get through to us."

"OK, for once, what you say makes sense," Matt admitted.  "There’s too many of them.  Check your pistol."

"What are we going to do?"

"We have to get to the van.  It’s our only way out of here.  We can come back later for the gold."

A nearby voice cut through the night.  "The van will do you no good, senor, Matt."

Turning around Greg spotted Carlos standing not ten feet away.  "What the…..where did he come from?"

"More tricks, Carlos," Matt asked.  "Sneaking up on us in the dark so we’ll think  you appeared out of thin air?"

"No tricks, senor.  The towns people are only a few hundred feet away.   There is no way you can get to your van."

"Watch him, Greg, his hands are behind his back.  Carlos, take your hand from behind your back or so help me I kill you right here.  Slowly, Carlos, very slowly."

"Si, senor, I have nothing to hide," Carlos said.  He smiled and brought his hands into full view from behind his back.  He held a round object about the size of a volleyball.

"What….it’s a ball.  (laughing) All you had behind your back was a ball.  Hey, Carlos, You going to beat us to death with a ball."

"Matt, Oh Mother of Jesus, it’s not a ball.  He came here without us.  He double crossed us."

"What are you talking about?"

"Would you like a closer look senor, Matt.  Here, as you Americans say……catch.  I think you know him."

Carlos lightly tossed the round object towards Matt and Greg.  It landed only a few feet in front of them and rolled slowly closer.

 "Oh, my God, it’s Charlie….it’s Charlie’s head," Greg  cried.  As the blackness of unconsciousness began to roll over him, he realized the screams of terror he was hearing were his own.

Slowly an image began to appear to Greg.  I was fuzzy at first as if Greg were looking through thick gauze.  A voice was speaking, but like the image, was fuzzy at first, and made no sense to Greg.  Slowly the image of a large man in some type of uniform began to take shape.  The voice spoke again.

"Senor, senor…..wake up?"

"Wha…..what.  Where am I?  Quit waving that stuff under my nose."

"Oh, many pardons, senor.  I had to see if I could bring you out of it.  I thought, perhaps, you were dead."

"Oh, God, my head.  Where am I and who the Hell are you?"

"I am Sergeant Ramerez."

"Sergeant?  Army?"

"No senor, I am with the state policia.  I found you about fifteen minutes ago."

"What do you mean, found me?" Greg asked.

"You were wandering by the side of the road, talking to yourself.  When I approached, you collapsed."

"And our van?"

"I saw no van.  No vehicle of any type.  You were on foot, senor."

Fighting off the daze that still hung over him, Greg said, "I don’t understand."

"Do you remember anything at all?  How did you get on this road?"

"I don’t…..wait, it’s starting to come back."

"Si.  Take your time."

"We were…..we…..I had a partner, Matt…..did you find Matt?"

"I found no one else.  You were alone.  Do you remember your name, senor?"

"Yes, it’s Greg.  Greg…..Mason."

"And who is this other person you speak of………this Matt?"

"We were traveling together."

"Traveling where?"

"I’m not sure…..wait, is there a town near here called San Rio?  Yes, That’s where we were….San Rio."

Sergeant Ramerez laughed softly as he said, " San Rio?  I doubt that, senor.  Few people visit San Rio.  At least few people who…"

"Are we near there?"

"Si, four or five kilometers, but I’m sure you were not there."

"Yes, yes we were."

"And why did you go there, senor?"

"Well, uhhh, we were….we must have been tourists.  We were staying in the local hotel, seeing the sights."

"Staying at the local hotel?"

"Yes, that’s right.  Kind of run down, but it was OK."

The sergeant chuckled again.  "Yes, I suspect it was very run down."

"What do you mean?"

"Senor, Mason, what brought you and your friend to San Rio?"

"Well, we’d heard the story about the ghost.  Do you know the story I’m speaking of?"

"Si, I know of the ghosts of San Rio.  You say you stayed in the hotel, what else did you do in San Rio?"

"Well, not much.  Hung out at the cantina mainly.  Talked with the owner, Carlos, I believe his…"

The sergeant interrupted with surprise in his voice.  "Caramba, you spoke with Carlos?"

"Yes.  Why, is he wanted for something?"

"No, no.  How much do you know about San Rio?"

"Well, just the story about how Marcos San Rio’s wife killed him for his gold and about the ghost in the castle. "

"You have seen this ghost?" Ramerez asked.

"Uhh….well….no.  We didn’t go near the castle.  We heard it was locked tight and no one could get in."

"Until you mentioned Carlos, I thought perhaps you were just another gringo who drank too much tequila, but now…" his voice trailed off.

"I don’t understand."

"What you said about Marcos San Rio’s wife is true, but there is more to the story.  After killing senor Marcos, she wanted no witnesses left or anyone who might lay claim to part of the gold so she ordered her private army to kill everyone in town and burn it to the ground.  The story is well known by the local people.  My father told me about it when I was still a young boy."

"My God, Everyone in town?"

"Si, senor, 127 men, women and children.  She had them all brought to the cantina where they were killed and the cantina was set on fire.  From there the fire spread and burned down the entire village.   Nothing was left standing except the Casa de San Rio."

"Was his wife every made to pay for her crime?"

"Si, in a way.  In a very terrible way."

"What happened?"

"Three months after the massacre of the towns people, terrible screams were heard in the night.  They could be heard for several miles away.  No trace of Maria or her private army was ever seen after that night."

"God, I wonder why they gathered everyone in the cantina to do away with them?"

"Because it was owned by the second most powerful man in San Rio, Carlos San Rio, the brother of Marcos."

Shock could be seen on Greg’s face as he said, "Carlos is Carlos San Rio?  But that all happened over 50 years ago.  The man I saw couldn’t have been that old.  Maybe it was his son.  Yeah, maybe he inherited the business some years after the cantina was rebuilt."

"Senor, the cantina was never rebuilt.  None of the town was.  The burned remains of the buildings are still there.  Most people will not go near the village for fear of the dead.  I, myself, do not like to go there."

"But, you’ve been there?"

"Si, from time to time we have had gringos, like yourself, disappear on a trip to San Rio and I have gone there to look for them, but I have found nothing."

"But they turned up later?" Greg asked.

"No, I’m afraid none were ever seen again.  You are the first gringo, I have met who claimed to have visited San Rio and returned.  That is why when you first told me you had been there, I did not believe you."

"But the town wasn’t burned down.  There was the cantina, we stayed in the hotel, there were shops and people.  The cantina was full of music, people talking and laughter."

"When the wind is just right," sergeant Ramerez offered, "the local people say they have heard music, talking and laughter coming from the town.  That is why no one will go near San Rio."

"You mean…"

"The only thing left in San Rio is burned out buildings and ghosts."

"What about my partner Matt?   Everything’s so hazy.  I….I don’t remember much more than I’ve told you."

"I am sure he is gone."

"What do you mean gone?"

"Like all the others.  No one will ever see him again.  I will go there and look tomorrow, but I will not find him.  Except for yourself, no one has ever returned from San Rio.  You are very lucky, senor."

"Yeah, I’m lucky all right.  I wish we’d never gone there."

"Si, senor.  The lure of gold can be very strong."

"Oh, no, no, we didn’t go there looking for any gold.  We’re just tourists."

"You must think we are very simple minded people.   Why would anyone travel to a little Mexican village that does not even appear on the maps.?  No senor, I know why you went to San Rio.  Just be thankful you are alive."

"You’re going to arrest me?" Greg asked apprehensively.

"No, You’re not telling me everything you know.  Or perhaps you spent some time with the ghosts in San Rio and do not remember and that is why I found you stumbling down the road talking to yourself.  No, I will not arrest you.  I have no proof you have broken any of our laws.  But," he said starting to chuckle, "I’m surprised you did not know better."

"Know better?  What do you mean?"

"Well, after all senor," Ramerez said beginning to laugh harder, " why do you think we call it ……a ghost town?"

With that the sergeant threw back his head and bellowed a long and hearty laugh which resounded and echoed off the nearby mountains and canyons until it sounded like ten people laughing instead of one.  Only then did Greg realize he truly was the only person to ever visit the town and casa of San Rio and come away alive!!

Why was Greg’s life spared and how did he wind up on the road where Sergeant Ramerez found him, walking alone and in a daze?  Only the ghostly residents of San Rio can answer those questions.  Of course, if you’re really curious, you could spend a few days visiting a tiny village, high in the mountains of Mexico.  But, before you go, you should know one thing……They’re waiting for you.

©2002 by Ken Kreps  This work of fiction may not be re-published in electronic or print media without the express written permission of the author. All rights reserved.

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