Ghostly Attachments (Haunted Series)

by Alexie Aaron

  Mia patted the table beside her, and Murphy sat down, placing his axe beside him. He pushed his hat to the back of his head and nodded towards the hillside.

  The three of them watched as One Feather rode his pony. Two could see him, all could hear him. They cheered him on. He continued his path, hell-bent on saving his village.

  After he vanished, Mia excused herself as she had mortar to use up before it hardened. She got up and waited until she was far enough away to turn back and take in the sight fully. There sat Whitney and Murphy in companionable silence.

  Whit looked over at Mia and winked and said to the air beside him. “So Murph, how about them Bears?”

  Murphy looked at Whit and then at Mia and smiled before he took his axe and let it fall in the pile of wood beside the table. Whit winced but kept on talking.

  “Yes, they are cracking good. Don’t let Tom know I used the word cracking, he’ll think I’ve gone to the dogs.”

  Mia walked away and back to her work. As she put on her gloves she pondered her life, and although it had been a strange one so far, she knew it was just now getting interesting.

  ***

  Turn the page for an excerpt from

  Sand Trap

  A Haunted Novel by Alexie Aaron

  Chapter One

  Burt hit the wall hard. He narrowly missed smashing the mini camcorder he held by twisting his body at the last moment. His hip took the impact. He turned to right himself when a mass of flesh and bone smashed into him. The mass had a name, Mike.

  “Damn it, Burt, what the ef is going on?” Mike said as he slumped to the gritty floor in front of him.

  Burt grabbed the collar of Mike’s shirt and pulled his comrade in ghost hunting away from blocking the camera’s view of the room in turmoil. He propped the stunned investigator against the rotted plaster wall beside him. Bruises and broken bones would be assessed later. The first priority was getting this outburst of paranormal activity on film.

  “Sit back and take a breather. I think we walked in on a bar fight. Can you smell the beer?” Burt asked, focusing the mini on the swirling mass of wind, leaves, dust, and debris that held court in the center of the old abandoned saloon.

  “Smell?” Mike complained as he felt his nose, wiping the blood away with the bottom of his PEEPs tee. “I’ll be lucky if I’ll be able to breathe through this thing.” He looked over at Burt who was fiddling with the controls on the mini. “Are you even listening to me?”

  “Sure, but let’s be professional about this. Less complaining means less editing later.”

  Mike shook his head wondering what happened to the affable Burt. “Do you hear yourself?”

  Burt ignored him and advanced into the room towards the disturbance. Through the enhanced viewfinder he caught small glimpses of two combatants locked in a wrestling match over a chair. If he could just get the camera to pick up the changing hues, he thought, as the chair was wrenched away and sent crashing into the wall above Mike’s head.

  “That’s it, I’m out of here!” Mike said. He started to crawl towards the open doorway when another projectile, a window frame recently wrenched from the wall, floated towards Burt and crashed over him. His friend fell to his knees, his arms imprisoned in wood, dried putty and glass.

  “Dudes,” Ted’s voice came in through Mike’s ear piece, “What the hell is happening? We lost the Wi-Fi feed from Burt’s mini.”

  Mike looked at the mini which was vibrating in a dozen pieces under one of Burt’s knees.

  “Mini’s out, Ted, over.”

  “Sending, Beth in with…”

  “No!” Mike yelled, cutting him off. “Do not send Beth in here, over!”

  “Sending…”

  “Do you fucking understand me? Over!” Mike screamed as he watched Burt taking punches from an unseen assailant. His arms were pinned by the window frame, and he was taking a beating.

  “Crude language, dude,” Ted complained and added, “over.”

  “Too dangerous. This is way, way, out of control here. I’m going to try to get Burt out. I suggest you two start packing up, over.”

  “Naaa, plim, philm,”Burt spat, through bloody lips.

  Mike tried to decode what the hell the man was saying as he pulled his friend out of harm’s way. “Film? Are you one nut shy of a jock strap, man? They’re killing us here.”

  Mike managed to extract Burt from the window frame and headed for the door when the massive oak and brass bar flew over their heads and exploded against the exit, filling it with plank and metal.

  “Jesus, Mary, Joseph,” Mike whimpered.

  “Dude, language,” Ted’s voice hissed in his ear. “Beth says the Bible Belt has a problem with your swearing.”

  “Ted, you fucking asshole, I’m not swearing, I’m asking for help,” Mike said as the linoleum flooring beneath his feet began to curl. His mind fought to keep hysteria at bay. How the hell was he going to get them out of this room? “Window!” he shouted. “Ted, get your scrawny butt to the south window. I’ll be dropping Burt out of it in thirty seconds.”

  Mike dragged the flagging two-hundred and fifty pound Burt to the gaping hole once supported by the wooden frame. It was only a few feet to the ground, but the sill was high and Mike had to use all of his strength, gained from the long hours at the gym, to lift the now unconscious man over and out of the building. He heard Burt land with a sickening thud. He took one last look at the room and the approaching chaos before climbing up and jumping out, landing just to the side of the now comatose Burt.

  Ted ran up, bending his lanky frame over Burt, examining him for broken bones.

  “No time for that, we got to get the hell out of here.” Mike picked up Burt’s legs and urged Ted to get his other half. Ted grabbed the big man under the shoulders, and they moved as quickly as possible to the equipment van.

  Beth dropped the cord she was rolling up as she saw the men approach. “Here, put him down here,” she instructed them, wadding up a few PEEPs give-away hoodies and placing them under Burt’s head as they lowered him to the floor of the command post.

  He moaned and opened his swollen lids. He stared up at a female face and asked weakly, “Mia?”

  “No, it’s Beth. Hang on, we’re going to get you to the hospital…”

  “Did we get the shot?”

  Beth looked at Mike and mouthed, “What shot?”

  Mike leaned in and lied, “It’s all in the can, buddy.”

  Crashes of broken glass and splintering wood continued to emanate from the building. Mike grabbed Ted’s arm and asked, “Did we get our equipment out?”

  “Most of it. Some wasn’t worth retrieving, smashed up, like Burt.” He looked down at his fearless leader and added, “Sorry dude, didn’t mean you weren’t worth…”

  Burt waved his hand and tried to smile.

  Beth finished doing a cursory check on Burt and pronounced, “You’ll live.”

  “You don’t sound too thrilled,” he complained.

  Beth looked at Ted and Mike gathering courage before she spoke, “What the hell are we doing here? We are way over our heads, understaffed and outgunned. You both could have been killed in there. If you can’t see your assailants, you have no business interacting with an active, violent haunting without a medic,” she listed. “Come on, we have to call in the big kahuna here.”

  “If you mean Mia, no,” Burt said evenly.

  “Men!” Beth said as she got up, hopped out of the van and stomped off.

  “Hey, don’t go putting us in with lame brain here!” Mike called after her. “We didn’t dump Mia. Hell, some of us still talk to her.”

  Burt looked sharply at Mike, and Mike timidly pointed to Ted. Ted just waved his hand and said, “Mia’s cool, dude. Just cuz you’re not hitting that, doesn’t me we can’t work with her. Sure, she’s bossy, but, man, she can see and do things we can’t.”

  “She doesn’t like to travel, she won’t take direction, she has to do it her way,” Burt counted out
on his bruised and bent fingers.

  Ted sighed and countered, “She just needs a driver, she knows better ways to deal with these ghosties, she’s a woman…”

  “I heard that,” Beth called over from the pile of electronics she was trying to pack away.

  There was a brief whirl of a siren announcing the Illinois State Police vehicle that had just pulled into the parking lot of the former biker bar Lucky’s. It navigated over the craters in the blacktop before parking beside the command post van. Two state policeman got out and walked over towards the PEEPs team.

  Mike put on his professional face and greeted them, guiding them away from the downed Burt. Beth ran to where she left her briefcase. She frantically searched for their permit to film and the papers, signed by the owners of the dilapidated property, giving them permission to be there.

  The uniforms reminded Ted of some gossip he had neglected to share with Burt. “Hey, Burt, guess who’s back in Cold Creek? Whitney.”

  Burt winced and wondered how Mia was dealing with the deputy’s return.

  Alexie Aaron

  After traveling the world, Alexie Aaron, a Midwestern native, returned to her roots where she’s been haunting for years. She now lives in a village outside of Chicago with her husband and family.

  Her popular Haunted Series was born from her memories of fleeting shapes rushing around doorways, an heirloom chair that rocked itself, cold feelings of mysterious dread, and warm feelings from the traces of loved ones long gone.

  Alexie also writes the Cin Fin-Lathen Mysteries. These cozies set in England and south Florida combine action and intrigue with a liberal dose of humor.