The Wantland Files

by Lara Bernhardt

“That’s okay, Drew. You didn’t do anything wrong. You did great!” She noticed the frigid chill no longer filled her lungs or set her limbs quivering. “The Dark is gone, too. Why in the world would she just give up? I felt her clearly. She’s completely amped tonight.”

  Sterling knelt beside her. “Dare I ask what amped means?”

  TJ clicked his tongue and huffed. “Duh. Amped. Revved. Completely charged. Powered up.”

  “Whoa, pal. Power down. I just asked. I don’t know your made-up jargon yet.”

  “Why bother now? You won’t need it after tonight.”

  A moment of silence hung thickly in the air before Sterling answered. “No, I won’t. You’re right. Never hurts to learn something new, though.”

  Her heart ached at the sadness in his voice. Had she not been so consumed with where the entity disappeared to, she might have taken a moment to console him. But she had a feeling something terrible was about to happen.

  She lay her head on the floor. “Drew, where did Felix go? Do you know?”

  The wet smack of soggy fingers preceded his reply. “Fe-wix help baby Dosh.”

  “Baby Do—Baby Josh? Felix went to help Baby Josh?”

  “Yes. Fe-wix will help.”

  “Why does Felix need to help Josh?” She sat up. Something clicked. “Oh no.”

  The rattle jingled in the crib. She jumped to her feet, a cold, sinking dread in the pit of her stomach. “This was a diversion. She’s after the baby.”

  She bolted for the hallway just as Danielle’s piercing cry called from the master bedroom.

  “Oh, my God! Felix is in the baby’s crib!”

  32

  Kimberly paused in the doorway long enough to whisper orders to Sterling. “Stay with Drew. Don’t leave him alone.”

  She dashed down the hall and burst into the master bedroom. How could she be so naive not to see the baby was the intended victim all along? TJ’s footsteps pounded behind her.

  A night-light glowed in the corner, softly illuminating Danielle, who clutched the crib rail. “I know I saw him. He was here. In the crib.”

  Stephen stood behind her, a hand on her shoulder. “Shhh. Don’t wake up Josh. There’s nothing there. Come back to bed.”

  She went to Michael. “Did you see anything?”

  He shook his head. “You know I never see anything. That’s your job.”

  TJ spoke as he swung his camera side to side. “Nothing on the FLIR.”

  Danielle released her grip on the crib. “Ms. Wantland, I know I saw him. Please.”

  “I believe you. I saw him in Drew’s room a moment ago.”

  “Drew, too? Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine. He showed no fear or concern toward Felix. He claimed the cat helped him hide from The Dark.”

  “Oh, my God. What is happening here?” Danielle sank against her husband’s shoulder.

  “Look,” Stephen began, “you’re upsetting her. You’re not fixing anything. I want—”

  The rattle jangled.

  “Now you’ve done it,” Stephen groused. “You woke the baby.”

  “No,” TJ whispered. “The baby hasn’t moved. I have the FLIR on the crib. I would’ve seen movement.”

  She crossed to TJ and looked inside. The infant’s foot twitched once, and she noted the rhythmic rise and fall of consistent breathing. “Where’s the rattle?”

  TJ pointed to the far corner at the head of the crib. “Up there.”

  “The baby’s nowhere near it.”

  “Nope. Couldn’t have reached it.”

  “Maybe you rattled it,” Sterling remarked from the doorway.

  “I didn’t rattle it. My hands are busy with the camera,” TJ said.

  “You could have bumped the crib.”

  “Why would I do that? It would show up as a shaky segment on the footage. You’ll see. I wasn’t close enough to touch it.”

  Stan entered the room, recording the interaction.

  “Great.” Stephen sighed. “My wife on national television in her pajamas. Just what I always wanted.”

  “Hush,” Danielle said. “My pj’s cover more than my Sunday dress. Who cares?”

  “I care. Look around you. We’re up in the middle of the night—again!—sleepless, about to be the laughingstock—”

  “EMF is spiking again,” Elise whispered. “One twenty. One thirty-eight. One forty-five.”

  TJ and Stan panned the room.

  “I don’t see anything,” TJ said. “Not the cat, not the dark entity.”

  “Me, neither,” Stan said.

  “Kimmy, what’s happening? Where is she?”

  “Where is who?” Stephen demanded.

  “The entity your son calls The Dark,” she said.

  Sterling offered his opinion. “Ms. Wantland believes you’re being haunted by the ghost of the previous home owner. The schoolteacher.”

  “What? We heard they were a sweet old couple.”

  Sterling’s voice indicated he enjoyed having another nonbeliever in the room. “Right? But now apparently she’s here harassing you.”

  Michael finally interrupted. “Not now, Sterling.”

  She remained beside the crib, gripping her crystal, hoping for an opening to connect with the spiritual remains of Edna Miller. If she could connect, she should be able to guide the spirit, and hopefully convince her to cross over to the next plane of existence.

  She rested a hand on the crib rail but yanked it away with a stifled cry of surprise.

  “Kimmy? You okay?”

  “The crib is hot again.”

  “EMF one sixty-seven,” Elise said, “and continuing to climb. Pushing two hundred. I’ve never seen it so high. How is she doing this?”

  “Kimmy, what’s happening?”

  “I don’t know. She has to be here, but I can’t detect her—”

  The hair on her arm stood on end. She felt a sensation she could only describe as a bucket of ice water dumped over her head. She gasped, her lungs struggling to process the suddenly cold air. She looked up.

  The dark entity descended from the ceiling, features more clearly pronounced than she’d seen them yet, appearing almost corporeal. The face very much resembled the newspaper clipping photograph, but distorted, angry, somehow older, as if Edna Miller had continued to age after death. The wispy edges of the figure shimmered in the glow of the night-light as it drifted closer to the crib.

  She took a deep breath and situated herself in front of the baby bed. “Get back,” she gasped and pushed Stephen and Danielle backward. In her peripheral vision, she saw Stan and TJ maneuvering with their cameras.

  Danielle and Stephen stumbled, clearly confused.

  “Hey!” Stephen said. “What the heck?”

  Danielle also sounded concerned. “What’s happening, Ms. Wantland?”

  “I’m not sure yet, and I want everyone back a safe distance. The Dark is in the room. I can see her. She’s coming toward the crib.”

  “I want my baby!” Danielle moved to press past her.

  “Stay back. I don’t know what she’s going to do.” She spread her arms wide in an attempt to protect the infant.

  Sterling stepped forward. “What are you doing? There is nothing in the room. You are terrifying these people for nothing.”

  “I told you to stay with the toddler. Go back to his room.”

  “He’s fine. I’m more concerned about your fearmongering. Can you stop this charade and quit trying to convince these people you see some kind of spirit?”

  “Listen to me. Please. I’m not pretending anything. I’m trying to protect the kids.”

  Danielle gasped. “Let me have my baby!”

  “Ghosts don’t exist. Nothing is endangering my family in this room except you.” Stephen sounded at the end of his rope.

  “EMF remaining stable at just under two hundred.”

  The Dark swooped in front of her. She could clearly make out facial features, twisted into a grimace. She reached out to connect but sen
sed only jealousy and loneliness. Ugly emotions that no doubt contorted the entity’s face.

  She stood her ground. “You cannot have this baby.”

  “What the hell?” Stephen demanded.

  His wife wailed, “Let me have my baby!”

  She heard tears in the young mom’s voice.

  “Kimmy?”

  “She’s right in front of me, Michael.”

  “I see her,” TJ said, his voice hushed. “I see a shape on the FLIR. It’s a heat signature.”

  “That’s nothing,” Sterling insisted. “A blip. Could be residual heat from Danielle or Stephen.”

  “No,” TJ insisted. “It’s blue. Cold. And it just showed up. This is freakin’ awesome. First time I’ve seen live while taping.”

  “You want to see it, so you see it,” Sterling countered. “I’m looking at it myself, unaffected by Ms. Wantland’s histrionics, and I do not see a ghost.”

  “Dude, I keep telling you, you don’t know what to look for—Ms. Wantland, be careful! It’s, like, moving.”

  “Everyone, quiet.”

  The Dark drifted closer, one arm extended. Fingerlike extensions, longer and less opaque than real fingers, reached toward her.

  She leaned backward to avoid contact but pressed into the scalding crib. With a cry, she stepped forward, closer to The Dark.

  She glanced left and right, but if she moved at all she gave The Dark a straight opening to the baby. She saw Sterling attempt to cross to her, but Michael held him back.

  Danielle once again moved toward the crib. “Let me have—” The young woman gasped.

  “Danielle, what’s wrong?” Stephen took two steps toward his wife before he, too, stopped in his tracks. “What the hell is going on? It’s freezing over here.”

  “Kimmy? Cold spot?”

  “Stay back, Michael,” she said through chattering teeth. “Please. Let me handle it.”

  TJ laughed softly. “This is awesome. I see it on the FLIR. Big blue spot right in front of Ms. Wantland.”

  As she gulped lungful after lungful of icy air, the wispy tendrils closed around her throat and tightened. Her skin burned, and she couldn’t breathe. She’d never encountered a spirit so determined or so strong.

  She’d promised Danielle and Stephen help. She had insisted she could protect the family. And she’d truly believed it, never once doubted her ability. But she’d been wrong, she realized as her vision blurred. She couldn’t breathe.

  She wasn’t aware of losing consciousness until she opened her eyes and discovered herself on the floor, Sterling cradling her head in his lap midrant.

  “—told you she has seizures. Someone call a damned ambulance this time!”

  Michael knelt beside her, patting her cheek. “Come on, Kimmy. Come back to us.”

  Danielle’s and Stephen’s worried faces swam into focus. They both bent over her. Danielle wrung her hands. The rest of her crew hovered around her, waiting for her to recover.

  Her head hurt. She’d never felt so enervated. Sterling massaged her temples. She could get used to that. She closed her eyes and allowed a moment of soothing massage before she opened them again. But what she saw behind the young parents roused her foggy brain better than a double shot of espresso.

  The Dark hovered beside the crib, one arm reaching toward the baby.

  She tried to warn them, to shift attention away from her to where it belonged. But her limbs wouldn’t move, and her mouth wouldn’t form words.

  The rattle jangled, and a soft meow filled her with warmth and hope.

  Danielle glanced around. “Felix?”

  The young mother heard it, too. Drawing on her last reserve of strength, she pushed herself onto her elbows, then up into a sitting position.

  “The baby,” she managed through lips that felt thick, anesthetized.

  Rosie raced to her side, the case of chakra stones in one hand, a mug of hot tea in the other.

  “Not now,” she gasped, forcing herself to her knees.

  “You need to recharge.” Rosie tried again.

  She heard the baby gasp and work its infant mouth. The Dark leaned closer.

  “No.” She grabbed the crib, gritted her teeth as the wooden rail singed her hands, and dragged herself to her feet.

  Sterling jumped up. “Are you insane? Michael, she’s not in her right mind. Stop her! Call an ambulance.”

  He grabbed her arm, but she shook him off.

  Another meow sounded through the room as she stood and peered into the crib. Felix crouched over the baby, back arched, fur on end.

  The Dark’s fingers curled around the infant’s throat.

  The baby didn’t move.

  Felix slashed at the entity’s arm with unsheathed claws again and again. The cat turned its red eyes on her and hissed, fur on end. But now she understood. He wanted to help, not hurt. He crouched over Josh in an attempt to protect the baby, and he wanted her to intervene. She knew what she had to do.

  “Michael,” she gasped. “The Dark . . . is right by the crib. Try to get footage . . . before she drains the battery packs. Then don’t reload. I have to . . . drain her.”

  “Kimmy, EMF is around two hundred. You can’t drain that much energy onto yourself.”

  “I’ll have to draw enough. Get the electronics out of here. As many as possible. Unplug everything.”

  The room faded into a blur. All the voices and noise in the room fell away from her. She grabbed her crystal, focused on The Dark, and drew a deep breath.

  She plunged a hand into the dark entity, siphoning all the energy she could handle. Too much, and she’d risk psychic shock, a phenomenon comparable to electrocuting her spirit. If she overloaded her system, she risked permanent damage. But she had to save the baby.

  The Dark turned to face her, the features a furious scowl.

  “What the hell is going on?” Stephen asked. “What is she doing?”

  “She’s seizing again,” Sterling answered. “Michael, do something!”

  “No. Do not disturb her. She’s fighting the spirit. In fact, everyone out of the room.”

  “Not without my baby!” Danielle cried.

  She heard Rosie comfort the young mother as she led her from the room. “Your baby is in good hands. Let Kimberly do her job.”

  Kimberly shook uncontrollably and grabbed the crib rail to steady herself. The wooden slats no longer burned. The entity grew weaker as she drained it. Her plan was working. But she couldn’t keep this up much longer. If she overloaded her system, she could lose consciousness. She couldn’t allow that to happen before she knew the baby was safe.

  Sterling’s voice challenged Michael, strong as granite. “I’m not leaving her side. Someone needs to take care of her. Until I’m convinced she’s in no harm, I’m staying right here.”

  His voice and concern strengthened her. But the entity seemed to grow stronger, as well. How was it doing this? The fingerlike projections still curled around the infant’s throat.

  “This is wild,” TJ said, excitement in his voice. “I swear I can see the energy leaving the spirit and flowing into Ms. Wantland.”

  “TJ, your battery pack . . . you need to go,” she said.

  “But this is fantastic footage! Best we’ve ever caught.”

  “She’s pulling more energy . . . from your batteries. Recharging while I drain.”

  “She said go!” Sterling’s rough voice startled her. “Get out. Who cares about shooting now?”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw him shove TJ roughly out the door.

  The Dark snarled at her but remained focused on the baby. She closed her eyes and pulled more energy.

  Felix let out a terrible shriek. She looked down in the crib. The infant’s chest no longer rose and fell. She was running out of time.

  “Felix, help me!”

  “Michael, she’s talking gibberish! If you won’t call an ambulance, I will.”

  The cat spirit thrust both paws into The Dark’s arm. The Dark open
ed its mouth as if to wail, but no sound resulted. The entity grew dimmer. She could see through it. Knowing she couldn’t take much more, she gave one last push to drain energy away from the spirit. The room grew faint and distant, but she saw the spirit retract its appendage from the crib and dissipate.

  She heard a desperate meow from the crib and knew what it meant. She fell into Sterling’s arms. How did he always manage to catch her when she needed him most? “Call an ambulance,” she instructed him as he cradled her. “The baby isn’t breathing.”

  33

  Kimberly opened her eyes and discovered herself lying on the couch again. The Williamses’ couch had become her makeshift recovery bed. Her entire crew scattered around the living room. TJ and Stan stood nearby, shifting from foot to foot. Elise sat in a chair, nibbling nervously on a fingernail. Michael spoke quietly on his cell phone. Sterling paced the room.

  Standing beside the couch, Rosie noticed she was awake before anyone else. “Hey, there. There she is. Thank goodness.”

  Sterling stopped pacing and dashed to her side. “Still think you need medical attention. But the infant took precedence, and Michael remains adamant you’ll be fine if we just let Rosie tend to you. I would feel much better if you saw a doctor, though.”

  While he spoke, he curled his fingers around hers. Grateful for the concern, she squeezed his fingers. “Thank you. I’ll be okay now.”

  She gathered the chakra stones from her energy centers and sat up. Her head pounded, the worst headache she’d ever experienced in her life. “How’s the baby? What happened? Please tell me the baby is okay.”

  Michael hung up and sighed heavily. “The baby is okay. Everyone can relax. Danielle says the doctor wants to keep the baby under observation for a day or two, but they expect no complications. Very fortunate we were here tonight.”

  She saw everyone in the room breathe a sigh of relief. Stan crossed himself and held his hands to the ceiling, offering a prayer of gratitude. TJ murmured, “Thank goodness. Glad we didn’t lose the little dude. That would’ve sucked big-time.”

  Michael crossed the living room and sat beside her on the couch. “You are okay, aren’t you?”

  She nodded, rubbing her temples. “Other than the worst headache I’ve ever had in my life, I think I’m fine, now I know the baby is okay.”