[Mystic Caravan Mystery 04.0] Freaky Games

by Amanda M. Lee

  I raised an eyebrow. “How did you know I was thinking that?”

  “Because I’m better than you when it comes to invading someone’s mind and not leaving a mark,” Dana replied. “I’ve had more practice. Vegas is a busy town. I also don’t run from my gift when the going gets tough.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “I think it means that she thinks you’re a wuss when it comes to your abilities,” Raven interjected. “I’ve often thought that myself, but for diplomacy’s sake I decided to keep it to myself.”

  Oh, well, that was rich. “When have you ever been diplomatic?”

  “I’m always diplomatic,” Raven shot back. “Did I ever tell you that I think your ankles are abnormally thick? Of course not. That would be rude.”

  I shifted my eyes under the table to stare at my ankles. They weren’t small and dainty by any stretch of the imagination, but they were hardly tree trunks. “There’s nothing wrong with my ankles.”

  “If you believed that you wouldn’t have looked.”

  “Oh, well, whatever.” I rolled my eyes and found Dana scowling, arms folded over her chest. “Is something wrong?”

  “The two of you are wrong,” Dana replied, annoyance evident. “I can’t afford to close down my shop for the entire day to deal with you idiots. I would appreciate it if you could get your acts together.”

  “I’m really starting to like you,” Raven said, grinning. “Have you ever considered joining the circus?”

  “Clowns are creepy.”

  “Oh, we totally know that,” I said, resting my hand on the table. “We need information about the area in which we’re staying. We’ve seen a few things.”

  “And heard about a few others,” Raven added. “What’s out there?”

  “Haven’t you stayed in that area before?” Dana challenged.

  “We have, but we’ve never seen anything like this before,” I answered, seeing no reason to lie.

  “To be fair, it might’ve been hanging around last year, but we got distracted by that whole mummy thing, which took up most of our focus for that visit,” Raven added.

  “The mummy thing?” The look of mild mirth was back on Dana’s pleasing face. “I forgot about that. You really did have your hands full during your last visit.”

  “I would like to think that we would’ve recognized danger if we saw it, but I’m not so sure that’s true,” I offered. “We’re well aware that something is going on out there right now.”

  “You need to be more specific,” Dana said, crossing her legs at the ankles and leaning back in her chair. “What do you know?”

  “Know?” I scratched my cheek. “I think ‘know’ is a bit strong. We have suspicions and we’ve heard whispers.”

  “We found footprints when we first arrived at the fairgrounds,” Raven supplied. “The feet were webbed.”

  “Webbed?”

  “Do you know what that means?” I asked, instantly regretting that I asked the question when Dana gave me a “well, duh” look that was right out of Raven’s repertoire.

  “I’m seriously starting to like this woman,” Raven said, chuckling.

  “I know what webbed feet are,” Dana said dryly. “I saw a duck or two in my day before the accident.”

  “Sorry,” I offered lamely. “I’m trying to be sympathetic.”

  “And instead you’re insulting,” Dana said. “It’s a fine line. You might want to watch where you’re walking. Others might not be as understanding about your foot-in-mouth disease as I am.”

  I swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Go back to the feet,” Dana instructed. “Did you see anything else?”

  “Not at that time,” Raven replied. “That night a dust storm hit, and right before it did Poet thought she saw something in the desert.”

  “Really?” Dana was clearly intrigued as she tilted her chin and gave the appearance she was looking at me. “What did you see?”

  “I honestly don’t know.” There was no reason to hold anything back. “I woke up in the middle of the night, but I couldn’t put my finger on why. It was … odd, for lack of a better word. I went outside to look around, and that’s when it happened.”

  “You went outside?”

  “Yes.”

  “In the middle of the night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I just told you.”

  “No, you told me you woke up for no reason and walked outside,” Dana corrected. “You didn’t tell me what propelled you to do it. Most people would remain inside in a situation like that, no matter what ‘odd’ feeling overcame them. Why did you go outside?”

  That was an interesting question. I wasn’t sure I had an answer. “I don’t know. Something compelled me to go out there.”

  “And what happened when you did?”

  I shrugged, immediately realizing that Dana couldn’t see my response. “I walked out to the area right behind my trailer. I thought I sensed something there. I reached out my hand and for one second I thought I touched something. There were red eyes, steady eyes, and then … the dust storm hit. I was distracted, and when I opened my eyes again I was alone.

  “The things is, at the time I couldn’t be sure that I was seeing something real,” I continued. “I thought I might’ve imagined it because my inner danger alarm was trying to warn me about the storm.”

  “A reasonable assumption.” Dana tugged on her bottom lip as she considered our predicament. “And now?”

  “And now we’ve had another woman show up during a different sandstorm, claim that she saw red eyes in the storm, and then start screaming as if someone was trying to kill her,” I answered. “I think it’s too much of a coincidence.”

  “I think we can all agree on that,” Dana said, her tone dry.

  “We’ve done a little poking around,” Raven said. “We’ve heard some of the local legends and tried to read up on others. We’re mostly intrigued by the dune.”

  “I’m impressed!” Dana’s smile was sly. “You took the time to pick up our lingo. Most visitors don’t bother to do that.”

  “We’re interested in all sorts of creatures,” I offered. “We’re mostly interested in making sure those creatures don’t hurt others.”

  “My understanding is that you set a sort of … trap,” Dana said. “If whatever is out there is evil, wouldn’t your trap draw it in?”

  “We refer to it as the dreamcatcher,” Raven answered. “In theory it should draw the creature in, but only if it’s evil. If it’s not … .”

  “So you want to know if it’s evil. Is that it?”

  “We want to know about whatever is hiding out there, whether it’s evil or not,” I clarified. “We like learning about new beings when we can. We only go after those who survive by nefarious means. If there’s something out there minding its own business we’re certainly not interested in messing with it.”

  “On the flip side, if there’s something out there grabbing or terrorizing people – which seems to match the information we’ve been given by the police and random residents – then we don’t want to leave it to get bolder,” Raven said. “Our biggest problem is that we don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

  Dana’s attention returned to me. “I don’t think that’s true. The Romani seems to know at least part of the story.”

  That was news to me, but I decided to take a leap all the same. “What happened in that Gorgon Mine all of those years ago?”

  Dana pursed her lips. “I was not there to witness it.”

  “Yeah, that’s cute,” I said. “Something tells me that no matter what you say you still know.”

  “Like you, I only know what I can find out through online groups and rumor,” Dana said. “You seem to know about the mine and what happened. What exactly do you know?”

  “I know that the owner claimed the workers died, but other people believe they were alive underground for much longer,” I replied. “I know that th
e owner tried to lower another worker into a parallel shaft not long after the tragedy and that he died under mysterious circumstances. I know that the owner died not long after that.”

  “You know quite a bit,” Dana said. “That’s good. All of what you said is true. I’ve gone out to that land a few times – always during the day, mind you – and tried to get a feeling for what happened so long ago. When something that bad happens in one spot it leaves a mark.”

  “What kind of mark?”

  “The kind only people like you and I can see,” Dana answered. “I saw flashes of what happened. If you go to the location and looked you’d probably see the same. But I’m not sure that matters.

  “A few of the men died in the initial cave-in, but the rest were alive for days,” she continued. “They knew relatively quickly that the owner would not save them. They were trapped in a small space with nothing to do but wait to die. What do you think happened?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “What always happens when you lose hope?” Dana prodded. “They turned on one another, frustration taking over. Some of the men killed each other out of fury. Some did it out of a sense of mercy. Once they ran out of water the men started suffering. Still, others didn’t die from lack of food or murder at the hands of their coworkers. They still died horribly. I saw that … although not the how, which troubles me.

  “The remaining men survived longer than they should’ve, and they killed quite a few to last as long as they did,” she continued. “Imagine the anger and bitterness that fueled them to want to cling to life even though they knew the ultimate outcome would not be in their favor.”

  “Oh, I think I know what you’re saying,” Raven said, her interest evident as she leaned forward. “You’re saying that the dune isn’t really a thing. Er, well, it is, but we’re looking at it wrong. It’s a figment, isn’t it?”

  “I’m glad to see you’re knowledgeable,” Dana grinned. “What do you know about figments?”

  “They were once human,” I automatically answered, my mind busy. “They essentially wished themselves into being.”

  “That’s an oversimplification,” Dana corrected. “They didn’t wish themselves into being. They did hate enough to create a monster that bore no resemblance to what they used to be.”

  “So you’re saying that this dune, this monster that shows up only during storms so far, is one of those men,” I said. “You think he turned himself into a monster as a way to get out of that mine.”

  “And then you think he took revenge on the people who left him down there to suffer, like the mine owner,” Raven said. “That kind of makes sense.”

  “It does,” I agreed. “Is it dangerous?”

  Dana shrugged. “That is the question, isn’t it? I won’t pretend to know which soul turned into the figment or why he took the shape he did. I don’t know what storms have to do with anything. One of the visions I saw when I went to the property did involve a storm, but I’m almost certain it happened underground, which leaves out the possibility of them being ravaged by a dust storm.”

  “Yeah.” I rolled my neck until it cracked. “Does it kill?”

  “I don’t know,” Dana replied. “I’ve heard numerous stories about people disappearing. That’s why I did some research and went out there. No bodies have ever been found.”

  “Have the bodies from the mine been recovered?” I asked.

  Dana’s smile was appreciative. “You two are always thinking, aren’t you? I asked that question myself. No one seems to know.”

  “And there’s no way for us to know unless we start digging,” Raven muttered. “I’m not doing that.”

  “No, we have no idea what else could be down there for us to unleash,” I said. “I’m guessing the figment escaped because the owner – I think his name was Partlow, if I remember correctly – sent the worker down in a parallel shaft. The figment managed to escape because the owner was greedy and opened that shaft.”

  “That doesn’t mean the creature is evil,” Dana cautioned. “What happened to the other worker might’ve been an accident.”

  “Or a myth altogether,” Raven said. “If it is a figment, we have the means to kill it. This one is probably particularly strong because it’s been around for so long, but we could end it.”

  “I have no interest in ending it if it isn’t dangerous,” I supplied.

  “Even if no bodies have been found, you heard Dana,” Raven argued. “People have gone missing.”

  “Yes, but have they gone missing because of the figment or because this is a desert area and people often go missing in the desert?”

  “That right there is the question of the day.” Dana wagged her finger. “Also, I need to caution you that the figment is a theory of mine. I have not seen or felt its presence. I can’t say with any degree of certainty that my theory is correct.”

  “None of us can,” I said, getting to my feet. “We need to see it up close and personal for that to happen. You’ve given us a lot to think about and a way to direct our attention. Thank you for that.”

  Raven followed my lead and smiled as Dana grabbed another cigarette. “We’ll probably be back.”

  “I’ll throw you a party.”

  Raven snorted. “Yeah, I’m definitely starting to like you.”

  12

  Twelve

  We were back at the fairgrounds for almost two hours – lunch preparations underway – when Max and Kade returned. Max parked close to his trailer, and I found myself watching as the two men exited the vehicle.

  They didn’t look particularly happy. They didn’t look upset either. Kade even managed to flash a smile and wave as Max disappeared inside of his trailer.

  I decided to take that as a win.

  “Hello there, pop tart.” Kade kissed me before I could return the greeting. “How was your day?”

  I arched an eyebrow, amused. “Screw my day. How was your day?”

  “Yes, we’re much more interested in your day,” Raven teased, handing me a bag of cucumbers so I could slice them.

  Kade’s expression was unreadable as he stared at her. It took me a moment to realize what bothered him. “She knows,” I whispered, leaning closer.

  Kade flicked his eyes to me. “How?”

  “She suspected at first, but I clarified it for her when she managed to hop into my mind when I was taken outside of the Hall of Mirrors a few weeks ago.” I chewed on my bottom lip, uncomfortable. “I’m really sorry. I should’ve found a better way to shield that.”

  Kade cracked a genuine smile, though it was small. “I would much rather have you safe than worry about something like that. Besides … everyone will find out eventually.”

  “They will?”

  Kade nodded. “It’s inevitable in this place. It’s fine.” He ran his hands over my shoulders, tilting his head to the side as if conducting some sort of internal debate. “My day was fairly calm, sometimes uncomfortable, but overall fine,” he said after a moment. “I’m not sure there’s much to share, but it was … fine.”

  “You might want to pick a different word,” I noted. “When you say ‘fine’ I hear ‘sucky.’”

  “It really was fine,” Kade countered. “It wasn’t terrible. It was … fine.”

  “Okay.” I squeezed his hand. “You seem a little tense. Do you want to take a nap or something while we get dinner ready?”

  “A nap?” Kade was incensed. “Why would I need a nap? I’m not a child.”

  “You whine like one,” Raven interjected, handing me several tomatoes. “I think we should do a light vinaigrette dressing. The heat is making everyone want fresh vegetables.”

  “Sounds good to me.” We shared smiles. “I’m definitely sick of the heat, and it’s only going to get worse when we open. The sun will bake us, and the crowds will smother us.”

  “Now I’m starting to like you for saying something so snarky,” Raven teased.

  I chuckled as I turned back to my task, taking a moment to
realize Kade was staring. “What?”

  “Did you guys bond or something while I was golfing with Max? I’m starting to feel like I wandered into a parallel universe. Wait … is that a thing?”

  “Not like you’re thinking, but there are definitely different planes of existence,” I replied. “Nixie and Naida grew up in one, in fact. As for getting along … well … we had a productive day.”

  “We did indeed,” Raven agreed, mixing the salad dressing ingredients. “We only had to stop ourselves from scratching each other’s eyes out once or twice.”

  “Well, that sounds much more interesting than my day,” Kade said, rubbing his hand over the back of his head. “Tell me about it.”

  I did just that, launching into the tale and relating it from start to finish with only a few interruptions from Raven. When I was done, Kade was clearly flummoxed.

  “A figment? And I thought it was weird that people called it a ‘dune.’ I don’t even know what to make of that.”

  “It’s not unheard of,” I supplied. “It’s happened throughout history, including in Nazi Germany. Several figments rose out of the misery there and exacted their revenge.”

  “And what happened to the figments once it was over?” Kade asked, legitimately curious.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, it sounds as if figments are created when one soul goes through enough misery to make it rip from one reality in an effort to create something new,” Kade replied. “They clearly want revenge – and it sounds like they deserve it – but what happens when they get their revenge?”

  “Oh.” Realization dawned. “You have a good heart. You’re worried about tortured souls. I like that about you.”

  “Oh, geez.” Raven made a disgusted face. “You two are way too schmaltzy for me to stomach without a family-sized bottle of antacid. Can you lay off the sugar?”

  “Can you lay off the snark?” Kade shot back.

  “Probably not.”

  “Then I think you have your answer.” Kade beamed at me as he reached for a knife. “I’ll help with the tomatoes.”