by Alexie Aaron
“I’m following you,” Cid said. “I could put in a larger booster and plug it to the school’s current. If the entity is using lights, then we have electricity. We should be able to communicate with the guys without them being on the second floor,” he explained.
“Great! I think, first, cut off the water. Then bust into the school. This way we don’t overplay our hand before Murphy and company can walk the halls,” Mike said excitedly. “Audrey, Homely, you take care of the research. Dave will help us here. And, Homely, get us an update on Mason…”
“I’m fine,” a voice edged in anger said from the darkness.
Mia spun around to see the pale face of Mason Callen move into the light. There was an older version of this tough boy on one arm and Doc holding him up from the other side.
Mia jumped up and gave the kid her seat. He settled in with a few groans.
“They released him.” Doc defended his position, “I thought it was better to be with him here, than to have him sneak out of the house and die along the road on the way here.”
“He’s a stubborn bastard,” his brother commented.
“Excuse me,” Doc started, “This is Patrick Callen, Mason’s older brother and guardian.” Doc proceeded to introduce him to the group.
“Thanks for helping the eejit. Doc tells me you still got people inside, so we came along to see if we could help,” Patrick explained. “We Callens pay our debts.” Patrick’s voice had an old world meter to it. His exposure to his immigrant parents had left more of a mark of Ireland in his speech than his younger brother’s.
“Chuck and Josh got out with these guys,” Dave told the new arrivals. “They went home. Richie and John are still inside with Ted and Burt.”
“I got a sledgehammer in the truck. Let’s take down some walls,” Patrick suggested.
Mason grabbed his brother’s arm. “That monster will tear you a new one. Or hurt the guys inside.”
“I hear ya, brother, but it’s got to pay for what it did to you,” he demanded. “No one beats a Callen and lives.”
“Asshole, he isn’t alive, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Mason spat. “It’s an elemental, like Granny used to talk about. It tossed big guys around like they were nothin’. It stank like rotten eggs.”
“Wait,” Mia interrupted. “You smelled it?” She looked at Cid, Dave and Mike, and they shook their heads.
“I got pretty close when it was twisting my nuts. It stank like, like sulfur.”
Mia’s head dropped forward in concentration. “Mason, would you let me take your hand?”
“Sure, sweet thing, but you could do better,” he joked.
“Eejit, I want to see if I can see what you smelt.”
“I want to make a rude joke, but I’m too tired. Go ahead and hold my hand.”
Audrey got out of her chair and moved it in front of Mason. Mia sat down and took off her gloves. “When I’ve got a hold of your hand, I want you to think about the encounter. I am going to try to see through your eyes. I’ll be taking the punches so just let the memories take over,” she instructed.
“Can’t let a girly take my hits, I’ll survive,” Mason said and held out his hands.
“Ready?” she asked.
He nodded. Mia grasped both hands.
She was kneeling in front of a schoolroom door when they connected. She saw in frustration the lock pick breaking. “Patrick’s gonna kill me,” Mason thought. He got up when he heard the scratch of chalk on the board. Mia saw a man within a man drawing on the board. It wore the ghost of the gym teacher like a hand puppet. The outer man was adorned in shorts and a Clinton Cougar Athletic Department t-shirt, his hairy arms and legs bulging. His court shoes were expensive, too expensive for Mia’s memory of gym teachers.
The man inside of him working the puppet was only a man in the sense of shape. Mia’s nose was filled with sulfur. Her skin screamed as it took ahold of Mason when he refused to obey. It left wormy things crawling upon his flesh, and evil thoughts permeated Mason’s mind. The teen fought hard, but the elemental played dirty. Once his testes were gripped in the ham-hand of the gym teacher, he complied.
Mia pulled away, gasping for fresh air. Mason looked at her, ashamed. She stared back at him in admiration. “You may be an eejit, but you’re amazing. I’ve never seen someone fight so hard. How much shit ended up in there,” Mia said, pointing to Mason’s head.
“Nary a bit, as Granny used to say. I’m used to tougher talk on the basketball court, lady.”
Mia felt the cool hands of Audrey on her face. “You’re burning up,” she commented.
Mia felt nauseous but was determined not to retch in front of the others. “I’ll be alright. I’m not sure what I saw, but I think Mason’s granny is partially right. We have a combo entity, similar to Sherry and the hag,” Mia told Mike.
“Lord in heaven, that almost killed you and Burt,” Mike said.
The others, not familiar with the history, looked at them blankly.
“We’ll catch you all up. In the meanwhile, I don’t want anyone taking down doors or walls until we know we can protect the guys inside. Mia, we may have to call in the big guns…”
“Why? They didn’t much help before. Just chanted a good Latin cadence,” Mia complained. “Please wait, I think once we have all the info, then we can proceed. There are so many questions still not answered.”
Mike watched her face. He knew that she did not want Angelo Michaels involved. But he knew she would call him if it meant freeing Ted and the others. Angelo had crossed the line with Mia. Mike knew from Ted just how far he went, using her as one would use a tool to achieve the end goal. “I’ll let you tell me when it’s time. Maybe a heads up to Father Santos wouldn’t go amiss. I’m sure we can trust him not to involve Angelo if we ask him not to,” Mike reasoned.
“Call him if you want to. I’ve got a chest of evil to unearth. Patrick, care to use some of that Callen brawn to help us extract a sea chest from the ground?”
“At your service. Who is going to watch the punk?”
“Mason could help me watch the video feeds,” Dave suggested. “I’m getting a migraine watching all six.”
“Get me up there, and I’m at your service, Hult,” Mason said rising. His brother put a hand on his shoulder, forcing him back into the chair. Patrick nodded at Homely, and the two of them carried him in the chair and hefted him up onto the truck bed. Cid and Dave took over from there.
“Well that’s the kid sorted. Come on, honey, show me to your chest,” Patrick said, pun intended.
Mia coughed and pointed to the woods. She followed, putting Cid, Homer and Mike between him and her.
Chapter Thirteen
“Am I a Criminal?” Burt read from the board. Underneath it were five sets of numbers.
190103
1803302
25502202
320807
320808
“The last two numbers are one apart,” observed Richie.
“Not math though,” Ted said, pulling his gaze from the board to the room around him. “Looks like a classics book depository or an AP English classroom.”
John tapped Richie on the shoulder. “It’s a book cypher. The zeros mean a change. Change from page to row to word. Like the first one is page nineteen, row one, word three. But which book?” he asked, looking at the stacks of books that gave the illusion that they were growing in number.
“Am I a Criminal?” Burt repeated.
Ted walked around the room. He picked up a copy of A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle, commenting, “I love this book.” He stood there thumbing through the pages. Page nineteen, row one only had two words, in this copy, Yes, please. He shook his head and picked up another book, but not before stuffing A Wrinkle in Time in his back pocket.
“Theodore to earth,” Burt called. “Look for a book dealing with criminals.”
Ted picked up Wuthering Heights. He wasn’t sure it was about a criminal, but Heathcliff and Cath
erine did do criminal things. He placed it on a desk. His eyes scanned the stacks. Lord of the Flies, no, Huckleberry Finn, yes. He placed it next to Wuthering Heights.
John walked over and sat down, picked up the books Ted left and looked at the first set of numbers and shook his head for each book. “Nada.”
“This must have been a hell of a class. Look, Russians,” Ted said. “Oh my god, this has to be it. Here’s a Modern Library edition of Crime and Punishment.” He tossed the book to John.
Burt picked up the chalk. “Call the words out to me,” he instructed.
“Nineteenth page, row one, third word is I.”
Burt nodded. “Go on.”
“Eighteenth page, row thirty-three, second word is am. Two-hundred fifty-fifth page, row twenty-two, second word is an. The next two are on the same page next to each other.” John flipped through the book excitedly. “Extraordinary man.”
He looked up at the board. Burt had written:
190103 = I
1803302 = Am
25502202 = An
320807 = Extraordinary
320808 = Man
“This guy has some ego,” John commented.
“Actually, in Crime and Punishment, the extraordinary man is someone who has the right – by nature of their, uh, extraordinariness, I guess – to break all legal and moral laws to bring about their own idealistic vision. It’s a justification to be exempt from the rules of ordinary people. – even kill – in order to ‘move the world’ towards that vision. I’m thinking our host chose to ignore the rest of the book,” Ted observed.
Burt looked over at his tech amazed. Ted had his hat on backwards, pockets filled with batteries and wires, but still understood Dostoyevsky. The guy was a genius.
“Ahem,” Burt cleared his voice and announced loudly, “The answer is I am an extraordinary man.”
The door swung inward, signaling their success. They started leaving.
Ira screamed, “Help me, I’m trapped!” as loud as his lungs would allow, but the four continued towards the door. Where was the goggled-eyed freak that heard him before? He stamped his foot and tried to move a desk, a book, but only one page at a time would turn. The last sight Ira had of his would-be saviors was the smart tall man walking out the door with A Wrinkle in Time in his back pocket.
Ira moved to follow them, but a thought occurred and he turned around. He sought out the stack holding the other Wrinkles and began the painstaking action of turning it page by page. He found the passage he needed and smiled.
~
The men lifted the chest out of the ground. It took all four of them. The trunk was heavy.
“What’s in it, rocks?” Patrick asked.
Mia knelt down and directed her light to the padlock. She brushed away the clinging soil and examined the lock. “It has a wax seal over the lock. Whoever did this wasn’t fooling around.”
“Looks like you could break that seal with a penknife,” Patrick suggested.
Homely looked at the newcomer and a furrow formed between his brows. He may be Mason’s brother, but he was also a thief. “I think it’s full of bones and evil. We should leave this to the PEEPs team; they’re used to handling this kind of thing,” he cautioned the young man.
Patrick nodded and took a step back. “Wise words, m’friend.”
“Let’s carry it back to basecamp. Mia, you may want to surround it with salt, just in case. Maybe cover it from the elements,” Mike told her but meant prying eyes.
“Sure thing,” Mia agreed distractedly. She caught movement peripherally. A crowd of spirits had formed. She could see more definition in the soldiers. They were young and angry. William’s jaw was set, and Mia worried that the group would rip into the chest, heedless of the consequences. “William, I need to find out how to undo this, how to get you all back to where you need to be. Can you give me time?” she pleaded.
“Who is she talking to?” Patrick asked, twisting around, trying to see in the darkness.
“Shush,” Cid said and held onto the man’s arm. “She can see spirits.”
William looked at the chest, the group of men getting ready to move it and then back to Mia. He held up a finger. “One day.”
“He’s giving us twenty-four hours, guys. Let’s not tarry too long. Let’s get this chest to the parking lot and protected before they change their mind.”
“What can they do? They’re ghosts,” challenged Patrick.
“Murph, show the man what a ghost can do,” Mia said to her friend who stood just outside of the group.
Murphy raised his axe, aimed for a tree just past its sixty years and sunk his axe in the side with a mighty crack! The tree shuddered but stood. CRACK! The second try felled the tree.
Patrick watched in horror as the mighty tree fell. He walked over and examined the stump. “Clean through,” he said in awe.
“In just two whacks of his axe,” Mia said proudly. “Now, do you want another demonstration or can we get this trunk to safety?”
“I’m convinced. Mary Mother of…” Patrick’s voice dropped off as he walked over and took his position at the chest.
“One two three, lift,” Mike ordered.
The four men managed the chest between them. Mia watched as they left the woods followed by a procession of Civil War veterans. Murphy moved over to her. He set his axe down and pushed back his hat.
“You did well. I had no idea you were that strong,” Mia confided.
“Now you do,” Murphy said, picked up his axe, tipped his hat and walked back into the darkness.
~
Ted stopped in his tracks. “Burt, did you hear that?”
“If we are talking about Murphy’s axe then yes. Muffled, but it would be since it’s outside of the school.”
“I wonder what he’s up to or, rather, what he and Mia are up to.”
“How are you doing, Ted?” Burt asked.
Ted slowed his step to make more distance between them and the teenagers. “I miss her. I understand now, how isolating investigation is without our communication.”
“This isn’t your usual position in the team, but I think you’re doing great, if it means anything.”
“Thanks, Blue Leader, it does.”
“Mr. Hicks,” Richie called to him as they made the next turn.
Burt was about to ask Richie not to call him mister when he saw the exit door up ahead. “No wonder we could hear Murphy,” he said quietly for Ted’s ears only. To Richie he asked, “It doesn’t open, does it?”
Richie tried the door, and it remained closed. They had come to the end of the hall. There were only two ways they could go. The exit door was locked, so it was the stairwell. “Try the stairs,” he suggested.
Richie pulled the door open and waited for them to catch up before entering. John followed him into the stairwell. Ted entered and walked around to see if the basement could be accessed from this stairway. He turned the corner and found the way blocked with a metal gate. “It’s gated. I guess we go up,” he called to the others.
~
Audrey, Homely and Doc departed, promising to return tomorrow. Audrey had a long drive ahead of her. She promised Mia to give PEEPs a call after she checked into her hotel room.
Mason turned out to be surprisingly adaptable. He made a few suggestions to Cid about taking advantage of a three monitor system set up like a dressing table mirror, so the viewer could catch movement in his or her peripheral vision. Also, alarms could be installed when movement occurred on the inside cameras. Outside, insect activity would set the cameras off.
Patrick watched his brother from the entrance of the command center. He had nosed around the setup and had already valued the equipment. He didn’t intend to take advantage of this group of people who had saved his brother; it was just a habit.
“Dollar for your thoughts,” Mia asked, handing Patrick a folded up bill.
He smiled wryly and handed it back. “First one’s free. I’m looking at my blood in there and see th
at he’s got talent. I’ve tried to get him to at least apply to college, but he’s against it on the grounds that our pappy didn’t have an education, and he did just fine.”
“The worry that he may outshine your parents may cloud his thinking. He needs school, Patrick, as you do.”
He turned and looked at her. “So you have a degree, do you?”
“Nah, I screwed up, but it’s not too late. I have a concentration problem.”
“Dyslexic?” he asked.
“No, ghosts. They are distracting when they are standing between you and the lecturer, screaming about some injustice or another,” she confided. “Ted says I can take courses on the internet though. I may give it a go.”
“I never thought of it that way. I’m presently in salvage.”
“I heard you were a fence.”
“Same thing,” he said dismissively. “Pays more. We need the money to survive. Our esteemed pappy didn’t have insurance. Couldn’t see the point of putting money into something he couldn’t benefit from. He didn’t even think of Ma. Figured we’d take care of her. You see, the man my baby brother remembers is mostly fictitious. He weren’t old enough to understand how fecking human he was.”
“So…”
“I took care of business. Started with old broke down farm equipment left to rot after the farmers were evicted from their land. I moved into autos, didn’t much care how I got them.” He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered Mia one. She declined.
“What happens when your luck runs out?” she asked.
“I got some money put away for Mason and a life insurance policy. He’ll be alright, but I want better for him. My heart fell out of my body when they called me on the way to the hospital. Said he’d been hurt real bad. I felt the fires of hell at the back of my neck, Mia. Not a good feeling.”
“According to Dave, Mason looks up to you. He brags about you all the time. Seems to me you’ve landed in the role model position. I’d look again at your life if you want Mason to examine his,” Mia counseled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get all preachy. I’ve been a bit of a bitch lately.”
