Soul Search: A Zackie Story

by Reyna Favis

  Lucas’ eyes drifted around the confines of the small room. “Still no sign of Bodean and Parmelia?” I’m not sure he was much interested in the answer, but it was a diversion.

  Cam shook his head. “No, not yet. They said they were having a hard time finding a temporary goatherd.”

  I chimed in, babbling because it was uncomfortable to stand by impotently while people suffered. “A likely story. I read just yesterday that goat herding was a booming growth industry and many young people were entering the profession.” Even if the part about goat herding wasn’t true, the part about this excuse being prevarication was most likely true.

  “Speaking of professions, did you follow up on the tip from Officer Creighton?” Cam shifted uneasily in his chair as he did his part to distract Lucas.

  I nodded. “Yeah, I called them yesterday and they want to hire me. It was probably the SAR experience that caught their eye, the willingness to do recoveries to bring the bodies back.”

  Lucas lifted his eyebrows in question, so we filled him in on the last search. We gave him the same sanitized version of the story that we gave law enforcement and then told him about the possible job opportunity for me. Lucas’ eyebrows stayed up, but now he looked dismayed. “You almost got shot?!”

  Cam made a motion with his hand for Lucas to stay calm. “‘Almost’ being the operative word here. It wasn’t even close.” Lucas continued to stare wide-eyed at him, so Cam leaned forward and held his eyes while the point was made again. “We were never really in any danger.” Which was true. Zackie was the one who might have been in danger, if a life threatening situation meant anything to an immortal.

  Lucas nodded and sat back, evidently too tired to argue with Cam’s version of things. His eyes moved back to Hannah and he reached out a hand to touch her cheek. Hannah murmured something to him and he immediately stood and headed for the door. “She wants some ice chips. I’ll be right back.”

  Hannah’s voice was weak, but she made sure we heard her. “I don’t want him here when I die.”

  Cam looked at me, his face etched with worry. “Hannah, are you sure about this? It might not be the best thing for Lucas or for you.”

  I nodded. “Listen to him, Hannah. Think this through. It might seem like it’s the easier thing to do right now, but later, he’s going to suffer with a huge amount of guilt for not being there with you.”

  Hannah sobbed softly. “I know… I know… But if he’s here, I won’t be able to do this, to let go. I don’t want to die in front of him. That’s the last thing he’ll remember about me. And he’ll carry that memory with him for the rest of his life. I don’t want to do that to him.”

  I blew out a breath. I understood where she was coming from. Nurses have plenty of stories about people who kept vigil with a dying loved one and the minute they leave for even the shortest period of time, the dying take that opportunity to let go. Those left behind are wracked with guilt for not being there at the final moment, but the truth was, the dying needed that space of separation to make the transition. I honestly didn’t know whose needs took precedence.

  Cam got up and walked to the window. “I don’t know how to help here, Hannah.” He sighed and looked down. “We can’t very well drag him away. He’d fight us tooth and claw.”

  “Who’s fighting?” Lucas entered the room carrying a Styrofoam cup. Taking his seat near the bed, he removed some ice chips and put them to Hannah’s lips.

  Hannah swallowed the melted ice and answered Lucas’ question. “I’m fighting. I’ll take on the lot of you.”

  Lucas smiled fondly at her. “That’s my girl.” Looking at us, he grinned triumphantly. “I told you she’d rally.”

  Cam and I exchanged a tortured look. Hannah had placed us squarely between the proverbial rock and a hard place. If we didn’t help her, we were denying a dying woman her last wish. If we helped her, Lucas would be tormented by the belief that he abandoned her at the end. Maybe we could sway Hannah’s decision if we could convince her that Zackie would help her to cross over. We could try to assure Lucas that she wasn’t suffering and give him a play-by-play of the action to let him know when she’d made it over, but I wasn’t sure he would buy it. Sometimes, there was a high cost to being purely rational. Speaking as an expert, certain situations in life require the irrational and there are just times when you need to let the crazy out.

  We waited until Hannah was able to sleep and then silently made our way out, leaving Lucas to watch her while she slept. Gazing at him over my shoulder as we went through the door, I thought that maybe there was hope for him. On the one hand, he showed every evidence of a man storing up time with a wife that he would soon lose. This was the rational Lucas. On the other hand, he espoused the belief to anyone who would listen that Hannah would make a full recovery. This was the wish fulfillment Lucas. There was a definite left brain – right brain conflict playing out and it gave me hope that he would believe at least some of what we told him when Hannah’s time came. I shared my thoughts with Cam as we rode the elevator down.

  Cam rubbed his brow and closed his eyes briefly. “We should at least try to convince her. Whether or not we convince him of anything is anyone’s guess.”

  I shrugged. “At the very least, she has Zackie. That has to make things easier.” Cam nodded absently as he exited the elevator and we made our way to the parking lot.

  Unlocking his truck, Cam found Zackie waiting patiently in the truck bed. “Speak of the devil.” Turning back towards me, Cam checked his watch. “Would you be interested in having dinner at my place? I have some leftovers that are becoming surprisingly ripe.” Cam had been generous about sharing meals since we returned and I appreciated that he went to the effort of buying extra napkins for me. I also appreciated how his actions spared my bank account.

  I grinned. “Happy to help you dispose of your kitchen waste. I’ll meet you there.”

  When we arrived at Cam’s house, a red pickup truck was already gracing the driveway. Parmelia and Bodean emerged from this vehicle to greet us.

  Cam smiled broadly. “Very glad you’ve come. I hope you weren’t waiting long.” Zackie climbed out of Cam’s truck and then sat in the driveway, watching the cousins with no great interest.

  Bodean dipped his head in response. “Fair’s fair. We couldn’t have cleaned up that mess at the McLean’s without you, so we figured coming up here was a necessary inconvenience.” I didn’t say it out loud, but I wondered what changed. They certainly took their sweet time getting here. Cam and I had just about moved on to trying to develop a plan C to deal with the Changewater situation. Instead of voicing my opinion on the matter, I extended the dead hand to Bodean to shake. “Unh-uh. I’m not doing that again, girl.”

  Turning to Parmelia, I offered her the same greeting. She narrowed her eyes at me and turned away to get her bags. “Not funny.”

  Cam unlocked the front door and called over his shoulder. “We were just about to have dinner. Are you two hungry?” He was met with a chorus of agreement, so while he showed Parmelia the futon in the office and pointed out a comfy couch in the living room for Bodean, I set the table and started some food nuking in the microwave. Seeing the nature of the leftovers, I put an extra stack of napkins near my plate. Meanwhile, Zackie followed them around as they settled in and I caught her watching the cousins as if they had larceny in their hearts.

  When we sat down to eat the leftover spaghetti and meatballs, it was a quiet affair. We made small talk, asking them about their trip, how the McLeans fared and if they heard anything more about Daniel. They asked after Lucas and we told them of his struggle with Hannah’s cancer. Surprisingly, it was the topic of Daniel that brought the most news. I had fully expected him to disappear from the record, never to be heard from again.

  Parmelia sipped her coffee and stared at her hands as she related the tale. “The McLeans were doing a little trail magic - ”

  My monkey brain latched on to this new term and I interrupted. “What do you mea
n by trail magic?” As everyone looked at me, I automatically started wiping my face with some of the extra napkins, feeling self-conscious that I’d probably made a mess.

  Bodean, determinedly ignoring my efforts at hygiene, lifted a shoulder and explained. “It’s not entirely altruistic. What they do is set up a cooler with some fruit and cold drinks and a few camp chairs. They wait around and offer the goodies to thru-hikers as they pass by the trail near their house. These people might not have seen a cold drink in weeks and fresh fruit is like the food of the gods to them.”

  Cam tilted his head and furrowed his brow. “So, why isn’t this altruistic? Do they do some sort of price gouging?”

  Bodean shook his head. “Naw, nothing like that. What they offer is free. It’s just that it’s a way for them to advertise their inn. A hiker might be drawn in by the sudden appearance of creature comforts and decide to stay the night with them. At the very least, hikers talk and spread the word about the inn.”

  Parmelia interrupted this off-topic discussion and brought us back to her story. “Anyway, while they were doing trail magic, they met this thru-hiker who had a weird story that sounded to them a lot like something a cop would do.” She took another sip from her coffee and braced her elbows on the table as she cradled her mug, staring at the design painted on its side. “You know how there are all these caricatures of the different types of hikers on the Trail?” I shook my head when she glanced my way. I told her that it was my impression that you only had your thru-hikers and your section hikers. “Not exactly.” Her gaze went back to examining the mug. “There are maybe a dozen different types. For instance, you got your romantic, prancing through a meadow in bare feet and quoting Thoreau. Then you got your survivalist out there eating what he can catch, building his own shelter and more than ready for the zombie apocalypse. And then there’s the stoner. You’ll smell him coming because of the patchouli and pot.” She cracked a small grin. “So, a bunch of stoners were in a shelter and they’re ready to party. As soon as one of them was able to light up a joint, it would go out. The joints just wouldn’t stay lit. The weed was dry, the paper was dry, and it would start smoldering when they touched the fire to it, but then something would make it go out. They kept trying until they heard a deep voice say, ‘Y’all stop that now.’ One of them got yanked out of his sleeping bag and something they couldn’t see started stomping around the shelter. Eventually, it left for the woods and the stoners put all their weed and paraphernalia away, just in case it came back.”

  Cam chuckled and slapped the table with his palm and Parmelia jerked a little at the sudden noise. “That sounds exactly like something Daniel would do.” I had to agree.

  After a beat, Bodean cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “Okay, so tell us about this thing you got here.”

  Squaring my shoulders, I took a deep breath and started explaining to them how Joel was remodeling the house for a disabled veteran and the little girl he saw. Cam told them about John Castner, who we found in the pit, and the hanged men buried at the crossroads, Peter Parke and Joseph Carter. When we described the fight with the Entity in the field, the cousins began to exchange worried looks. Cam then told them about Zackie’s rescue of the little girl, Maria Matilda, and how brutally the Entity retaliated against Mary, the mother. Holding up his broken arm, Cam described the chaos and the violence that ensued. Bodean and Parmelia looked at us with wide eyes and appeared paler than usual after the story was done.

  Parmelia, her brow puckered and her shoulders hunched up around her ears, was the first to speak. “So, what is it… you got four spirits left trapped by this Entity?”

  Cam shook his head. “Actually, it’s five. John Parke was the homeowner and was also killed in the house. We have not yet encountered him, but there’s no doubt that he’s there as well.”

  Bodean rubbed his face and looked balefully at us. “You two are like magnets for this stuff. You know that, right?” He took a quick look around the kitchen before settling his eyes on Cam. “You got any scotch? I’m gonna need something after a story like that.”

  Cam got up and found some tumblers and a bottle, pouring a finger for each of us. “Cheers,” he offered as he raised his glass. It burned my throat and I cautiously swallowed small amounts, careful not to embarrass myself by coughing or sputtering. Once the heat hit my belly, it was strangely fortifying.

  After a few sips, Bodean raised his drink and watched the light play on the amber liquid. “I think there is something in the field as well. Your Entity had a strong reaction to you being there.”

  I leaned forward, joining my fingers around the tumbler. “I hadn’t thought of that. I had thought the Entity was reacting to us interfering with the hanged men.”

  “You interfered with the man in the pit too, trying to get him to move on. No action on the field after that little foray, so it can’t have been for messing with the hanged men.” Bodean drank and wiped his lips on the back of his hand.

  Cam frowned, tapping his lip as he thought. “It can’t be another body buried there. We didn’t detect a spirit presence either time when we crossed the field.” He paused and after a moment picked up his train of thought again. “It must be an object and it must be something significant to fight so hard over that piece of ground. If we knew what it was, it may help us defeat it.”

  I sat up straighter, suddenly gripped by an epiphany. “Whatever it is, I’ll bet we could find it if we did a grid search. We could bring both our teams in for a joint training and have enough people to grid that field.”

  Cam shook his head and his brow creased with worry. “And what if the Entity came after the SAR people? I don’t know if we could protect them.”

  Squinting, I struggled to put the pieces of a strategy together. “So, just the two of us were able to beat it back the first time. It only won the second time in the house because it was able go all poltergeist on us.” Nodding to myself, I continued. “I don’t think an open field offers any tactical advantage to the Entity. We should be able to keep the searchers protected while they grid if we put Parmelia and Bodean to good use.”

  Parmelia exhaled and began rapidly chanting a mantra under her breath. “Aw, crap, crap, crap…”

  Cam ignored her. “I have to say, I’m dubious. Still, I’m trying to keep an open mind. What are you thinking?”

  “Pretty simple. First, we’ll need to create a diversion to draw the Entity away from the field.” I pointed to Parmelia. “She’ll be the look out. We’ll know when and from where the Entity is coming.” Pointing to Bodean, I continued. “He should be able to bind the Entity. I don’t think it’s stronger than Daniel and Bodean was able to hold him.”

  Parmelia stopped muttering to herself and raised a question in tremulous voice. “Sorry if this is ignorant, but this part of dealing with spirits is not in my wheelhouse. If Bodean can bind the Entity, why don’t we just settle things with it right there?”

  “We have no leverage.” Cam shook his head slowly. “We can’t bind it forever and we can’t force it to move on to the next life. We need something to improve the odds that we can persuade it to move on. Whatever is in the field might give us something to work with. Maybe it’s something obvious, like the murder weapon.”

  Bodean cocked an eyebrow. “So, Parmelia and I are working this one. You need to let Lucas know, so he can film it.” Cam and I exchanged a quick, knowing glance, but we nodded. “And you guys are what, plan B? You’ll be on standby to dispense violence on its ass if it steps out of line?”

  I smiled sweetly and fingered the scar on my temple. “I’m very much hoping to be called into action.”

  # # #

  After dinner, Cam and I retreated to his office to plan the grid search with some online tools. We were forced to narrow down the amount of field to be searched once we determined that the entire field covered slightly over fifty acres. An air scent dog could cover one hundred acre areas during searches, but humans lacked the running and scenting skills, so we ne
eded an easier problem for the twenty or so ground pounders who would come to the training.

  Reconstructing our trek across the field using Google Earth, we were able to figure out the general vicinity where we were attacked. We then expanded the search area by a bit more to be conservative in our approach and increase the odds that we didn’t miss the object. I thought the final plan was a good balance between effort expended and probability of success.

  Cam chewed on his lip. “I don’t know. I’m still not feeling great about this. We have a plan A with Parmelia and Bodean sighting and binding the Entity. We have a plan B, where you and I do something to its ass if Bodean can’t hold it. But what if it gets past us?”

  I rubbed my eyes and sat back thinking. “I don’t want to put searchers in danger either, but I can’t think of another approach to get some traction on this problem.”

  Bodean was leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. “Why don’t you put Zackie to work? She held Daniel while all of us ran with our tail tucked between our legs. Have her guard the searchers.”

  Lying on the futon that would be Parmelia’s bed, Zackie made a grumbling sound. I thought it was the canine version of ‘whatever, dude.’ She really was less concerned with the living, but she’d do it if we asked her.

  “Three lines of defense. That’s good.” Cam nodded and seemed satisfied. “I’ll send e-mails to our respective training officers and suggest a grid search.” Looking over his shoulder, I thought Cam was being a little artistic with the truth, suggesting that this grid search would help out a local historical society, that it was possible there were artifacts in the field that were coming to the surface. And while the searchers trained, a film crew might be on location getting footage for Lucas’ ghost show. They wouldn’t interfere with the training and would give a suggestion to the viewing audience to donate to their local search and rescue teams, so would that be all right?