Trouble at Thunder Mountain

by M J Waverly

  “Chapman Coven House,” I said.

  His eyebrows drew together. "I detected usual activity other than what the developers were doing the other night."

  "What kind of activity?" I jerked my head back.

  "A different kind of energy, which I couldn’t identify.” He sighed. "If you see me in the shadows, don't panic."

  "I won’t." I liked Dr. Hawthorne hanging about. Good to have reinforcements.

  On my way to my truck, which was parked on the town square. Rudolph stepped out of his statue. “Greetings, Sidney, I hate to interrupt, I feel a disruption in the energy field around Cloverville.”

  “Let me guess. Wickersham Drive at the Chapman Coven house,” I answered. I tried to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

  Rudolph waved his head as Dr. Hawthorne strolled past. "I would visit tonight, but I have rounds to make."

  "Have a good evening,” Rudolph called out.

  Dr. Hawthorne disappeared into the darkness. No sounds of footfalls or a car engine. Could he turn into a bat? Still hard to think of my writing professor was a vampire. But he’d been very helpful to me.

  Rudolph kept his finger on the pulse of the Cloverville spirit community, and I hoped he’d share any information he might have before I arrived at the haunted house.

  Rudolph began to fade as a crowd of people spilled out of Crooked Spoons. “Please give me a report in the morning.” His voice hung in the wind.

  “All right. Just not too early.” I had to be at Third Eye anyway in the morning, so it wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience.

  Should I call Jason? I glanced at the time. Ten p.m. It was late, and he had to work early, tomorrow.

  Jason Hunsinger, my boss, and sometimes, sometimes not potential boyfriend, wasn’t happy with Todd and Cyrus, his friends and part time paranormal photographers because they’d been unavailable to film due to their new job filming current events and weddings.

  I jumped in my truck and drove until I reached the more rural section of Cloverville. The stars shone more brightly in the night sky away from the light pollution. I suddenly felt alone and vulnerable

  Lightning forked in the sky followed by booming thunder. Never a good sign. Usually, in Cloverville, it meant something supernatural was happening somewhere.

  I turned up the radio to focus on the hard-pounding rock n’ roll song. I wished Nana was riding in the passenger seat of my truck, turning down Chapman Road, I checked my driver’s side mirror. I blinked.

  “What is that?” My heart raced wildly as I looked once again.

  I gripped my steering wheel. Yep. This was real.

  A man, wearing a Revolutionary War clothing and tricorn, galloped down the road on a large horse, followed by three humongous black dogs with red glowing eyes. Panic flooded through me.

  A ghost? Ghost dogs? I pressed down on the gas and the truck’s engine revved up another gear. Rechecking the mirror, I saw the rider and dogs gaining. Stay calm. Tapping into my power, my ability clicked on like turning on an oven, preheating ready to bake.

  Snowball materialized on the passenger side seat. Her reassuring glow soothed my frightened nerves.

  "Hey, girl."

  A comforting purring filled my truck.

  The ghost rider and his horse galloped inches from my bumper. I swallowed and kept driving. I had to get to the haunted house and find Uncle Joe. Was this how Ichabod Crane felt when the Headless Horseman chased him?

  A few seconds later. The ghost rider was even with my driver’s side window. I cut a quick glance at the side. The ghost turned, and red eyes glowed from within a skeletal face, similar to Emma’s many guises. He lifted his tricorn hat, nodded, and then lowered it back down onto his skull. My bravery shriveled like a raisin.

  Through the trees, the glow of ambulance and police lights shone brightly. Could I make it?

  "Make a left turn in one hundred feet." My GPS phone spoke in its monotone voice.

  The ghost rider and the three dogs turned and disappeared into the midnight dark woods and disappeared into the shadows.

  This wasn't good.

  Something thudded loudly on my truck’s roof. I looked out the windshield and could've sworn something with large dark wings flew ahead of me. Dr. Hawthorne?

  Ahead, a large wooden sign swung back and forth from a branch on a large and twisted oak tree. Welcome to the Chapman Coven House

  Finally, I pulled up next to a sheriff’s car. My heart thudded with loud thumps against my chest.