The Hauntings of Cold Creek Hollow (Haunted Series)

by Alexie Aaron

  “You fell from up there?”

  He nodded and reached out and grabbed her arm.

  Mia’s nose was filled with smoke, and she coughed. Around her, the room filled with flames, and she felt around for something solid to hang on to. The staircase collapsed taking her downward. Her hands reached frantically to stop her fall. As her body crashed through the first floor foyer, she felt a sharp pain in her left hand and watched as part of her hand flew away from her. Mia kept watching as she hit the ground, followed by a shower of sparks that burned and extinguished the life from her lungs.

  Harry let go of her, and she breathed deeply. “I saw it. Wait here.” Mia walked over to the pile of debris and started digging. After an hour of moving charred timber and melted flooring, she was rewarded with a faint shimmer. Carefully, she reached for the ring and tenderly closed her hands around the burnt and rotted digits. “Harry, I found you. Time to bring you home.”

  Mia laid the fingers down and took off her coat, pulled off her pajama top and wrapped the fingers inside. She put her coat back on, picked up her bundle and headed up the stairs.

  The nearest firehouse was only a few blocks away so Mia opted to walk there. She approached the first person and asked to see whoever was in charge. She was directed to the office of the Fire Lieutenant. Mindless of the image she must have presented to the lieutenant on duty, she sat in his office and said, “I understand there was a fire at 183 down the street.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I was rooting around in the cellar and found something that may belong to one of your fire-crew,” she said softly and laid the small bundle on his desk.

  He carefully unwrapped the bundle. “Now what have you...” his voice broke, “found.”

  “I think it belongs to...”

  “Harry,” he filled in as he carefully covered the fingers.

  Mia nodded. “He can’t rest without his wife having the ring. It’s important to him.”

  “Where?”

  “In the basement under three feet of burnt crap.”

  “I’m not going to ask you what you were doing there in your pajamas digging because I want to sleep nights.”

  “Wise man. You’ll give those a proper...”

  “Trust me,” he said, getting up.

  Mia got to her feet. She smiled at the large black gentleman. “I’ll be going back to the asylum now.” She nodded at Harry who was standing to the right of the lieutenant before she left the office.

  “So that’s how it’s done,” Mia said to herself as she walked back home, stopping only for her cold cup of coffee on the way.

  The super’s wife was leaving as Mia climbed the steps. “You take a walk or sumthin?”

  “Yep. I had to return a ring to a guy.”

  “In the cold light of day. You’re a cruel bitch,” she said, lighting her cigarette. “Get em drunk first.”

  “Next time,” Mia said thoughtfully.

  “How’d he take it?”

  “Seemed okay,” Mia said wistfully.

  “You’re a cruel bitch,” the super’s wife said again and walked off.

  Mia climbed the stairs singing. It wasn’t until she was inside her apartment that she realized she didn’t have her phone with her. Looking around, she found it under an essay on carbon dating. Flipping it open, she noticed five messages and ten missed calls. “Oh, shit,” she said before dialing voicemail.

  “Mia, you must be in the shower. Call me,” Whit’s voice said simply.

  “Wakey, wakey,” Ralph’s voice demanded.

  “Still in the shower, must be thinking of me,” Whit said and hung up.

  “Damn it, girl. Call me! Your uncle Benny’s getting worried.”

  “I’m getting my coat on. You have five minutes to call...”

  Mia dialed Ralph.

  “Well, it’s about time,” Ralph answered.

  “I forgot my phone. I was out,” she explained. “What’s up?”

  “You went out and forgot your phone in Chicago. Are you crazy?”

  “Calm down, it wasn’t on purpose. I was distracted.” Mia was getting a bit miffed.

  “Okay, I was just worried. A lot of bad things happening around you lately.”

  “I appreciate you worrying about me. I kind of like it,” she admitted.

  “So when is tall, light and Whitney arriving?” Ralph asked.

  “Flight gets in at five.”

  “Are you going back home?”

  “No, I think I’ll hang here for a few days. Or until the group figures things out.”

  “Finally you’re making sense. So what were you really up to?”

  Mia sat down and related the morning’s events to Ralph. He screamed when she described picking up the dead fingers. “This is the second time I was proactive with the whole ghost situation. It felt good. Less like a victim.”

  “I understand, dear heart, but I would prefer if you had someone with you next time. And that wouldn’t be me by the way.”

  “I hear you.” Mia looked at the clock on the table. “Ralph, I better try and return Whit’s calls before he gets on the plane.”

  “Okay, dear. Call me later.”

  “I will,” Mia said and disconnected the call. She hit speed dial number one.

  “About time,” Whit pouted.

  “Sorry about that, misplaced the phone,” she lied.

  “Oh that’s lame.”

  “I know. I went for a walk and left the damn thing in the condo,” Mia admitted.

  “Figures. I was just calling to tell you when I was going to pick you up.”

  “Whit, I’m not going home, not yet anyway.”

  “Really? I can’t say that I’m not happy about this. I’m surprised though. When I left, you were hell-bent on saving the world.”

  “I had a few people talk some sense into me.”

  “Mind if I come by? I’d like to unload on you,” Whit asked.

  “Sure, come over. Stay the night. When do you have to be back at work?”

  “Next Tuesday.”

  “Come, and we’ll enjoy the city for a while. I’ll fill you in on what’s been going on and you can unload.”

  “You make it sound so...”

  “Don’t start. See you tonight,” Mia said and waited for Whit to say goodbye before she closed her phone.

  Chapter Forty-two

  Father Santos stared across his desk at Angelo. The late afternoon light danced through the stained glass of the rectory window illuminating his face. “You know what you’re suggesting is frightening.”

  “By all the information we’ve gathered, the historical and the personal accounts, I think we have to move fast before this Steele escapes the hollow. If he gets flesh and blood legs, he will be long gone, and then we will be chasing him for a long time,” Angelo said seriously.

  “How did he get so powerful?”

  “The account of the missing Lewis boy gave Gerald an idea. He found records of previous sacrifices in England that fueled a lifetime of power for that club.”

  “Are we talking a demon?”

  “Don’t know. I don’t think so, but if it gets any stronger...”

  “And there’s the number we may be facing.”

  “Excluding Steele, my best guess is six. Bev was able to find death records of all but the seven. Of course if we add in the servants, we really have no idea,” Angelo admitted.

  “We can’t fight what we can’t see.”

  “Mia, Sabine and Bev can see them.”

  “With the exception of Bev, these girls have no experience...”

  “Fighting demons,” Angelo supplied.

  “Dear God, help us. Let me think this over before we approach the group,” Santos requested.

  “One night won’t matter, but don’t take too long. It grows while we wait,” Angelo cautioned the priest as he got to his feet and walked to the door. He looked back at his worried friend and said, “Mia crossed a lost one over today.”

  “
Really? Who?”

  “A fireman named Harry,” he said quietly and closed the door behind him.

  ~

  A very travel-worn Whit pulled into a parking space in front of the Coopers’ building. He was amazed, and suspicious, by his luck. He got out of the car and checked several times for a fireplug or yellow lines.

  “What’s the matter, you got a flat?” a voice asked from the doorway.

  Whit turned to see a middle-aged, bottle-blond bombshell leaning against the door.

  “Just can’t believe I found a parking space this close.”

  “It happens.”

  Whit extracted his suitcase from the trunk and started up the steps. “You wouldn’t be the angel of mercy that baked those cookies?”

  “That would be I, young man.” She nodded her head upstairs, “You expected?”

  “Yes, I called earlier. Why?”

  “Just curious,” she said, blowing smoke out the door. “Lots of activity up there last night.”

  Whit felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck. “Really, anything I should be worried about?”

  “Don’t know, just thought you should know,” Bonnie said and walked outside, letting the door slam.

  Whit continued up the stairs. The door opened with his hand in mid-knock. Mia looked up at him with the biggest smile on her face.

  “What have you been up to?” he growled and realized his mistake as her face fell.

  “Well, hello to you too.” Mia walked away from the door, leaving him to shoulder his way in with his suitcase.

  Whit looked around and could not believe he was in the same apartment from three days earlier. Gone was the old person smell, the bleakness, and as he turned toward the kitchen, he saw the box was gone too.

  “It’s gone.”

  “Yes, it is,” Mia answered.

  Whit looked down and around the doors. “No salt?”

  “All gone.”

  “I’m sorry. The super’s wife got me wound up.” Whit dropped his suitcase. “I’m tired and not thinking too clearly. Can we start again?”

  “Hello, I’m Mia, ghost-crosser extraordinaire.”

  “My name’s Whit, bullshit buster and law enforcement professional,” he added.

  “I have some leftover Thai if you’re tired or we could go out for a pizza, Chicago Deep Dish...” she tempted.

  “Do I have to move the car?”

  “No, there’s a place down a few blocks.”

  “Okay, let me wash the trip off, and I’ll be a new man.”

  Mia smiled as she led him to the guestroom and showed him where to wash up. There was an edge to Whit, just simmering under the surface. It could be fatigue, after all he had been through hell the last few days. Mia was surprised that he could still smile. Maybe after a few beers and a slice of stuffed pizza he would open up.

  ~

  Burt moved his sore body slowly from the bed to the wheelchair. Ted was on his way over to pick him up with the PEEPs van. Mike and Beth were busy compiling data, racing to pull together the thirteenth episode to present to the network the following Friday in LA.

  A knock brought Burt’s attention to the door. There stood a very tall, tan man dressed elegantly in a very expensive suit. “Excuse me, Mister Hicks, I am Angelo Michaels.”

  “Yes, come in. Are you with the hospital?”

  “No, I’m a colleague of Father Santos.” The large man looked around the room and nodded to Sister Agnes.

  “I see you’re being taken well care of.”

  “You know Sister Agnes?” Burt asked, unable to hide the amazement.

  Angelo just smiled. “The amazing thing is that you can see the sister.”

  “She was there when I woke up,” Burt explained.

  “Do you wonder what else you can see?”

  “A bit. What concerns me is, I have a friend who sees way too much. It interferes with her life.”

  “Mia Cooper?”

  Burt had a hard time suppressing his surprise.

  “I just met little Mia last evening. She had the misfortune to be born to parents so wrapped up in each other that they did nothing to help a child so gifted. All her freakish behavior stems from trying to deal with that gift and all the repercussions of it alone.”

  “She has a good heart,” Burt said ruefully.

  “Don’t worry. I assure you she is being looked after.”

  “Did she send you here?”

  “No, the child doesn’t know that I am here talking to you. If you would allow me a few moments of your time, I’d like to explain my being here and propose a mutual enterprise between myself and my associates and PEEPs.”

  “You have my attention. Go ahead.” Burt sat back and waited.

  “A few days ago, I believe you were attacked by the evil remains of the Illinois Hellfire Club. Mia has been sensing an emergence of evil in Cold Creek Hollow for some time now. We believe the restoration of the homes there woke Steele and his followers. By going into the foundations of the church, you invaded their little hidden kingdom. Most of them don’t have the power to ascend out of their tombs that we believe are under the church, but there is one that is not only strong enough to leave his lair but can influence other benign spirits it crosses.”

  “Sherry Martin?”

  “She was seduced by Steele. Promised a MoMA art exhibition. She went to the hollow to be with this energy that she felt at the time acted as her muse. He used her as he had used others under his spell. She wasn’t the first target. I believe April Johnston was originally being set up by Chastity Murphy to be the flesh sacrifice that Steele craves.”

  “Mia was in that house. How was she not overcome?”

  “Little Mia was with a very strong spirit, a man whose genetic markers go back to an original dissenter of the club. Abraham Whitney was a religious man who was conned by the club into establishing a church out in the hollow. The group took pleasure in desecrating the church below its very foundations. Our researchers found that Abraham stepped forward and fought this group with all the power he had. He wrote that he prayed to have the evil quenched. One night during one of the group’s perverted rites, a lightning bolt from the heavens hit the church causing a great fire. Abraham knew the fallen were down there but let them and their houses burn. I assume he may have helped them along.”

  “Rose was struck by lightning.”

  “Yes, she was. Nasty person I understand, gossiper.” Angelo wrinkled his nose. “She spent a lot of time causing pain. She may have even set Sherry Martin up. There’s no proof, but I think she’s paying for it.”

  “If the bodies are down there...”

  “The bodies are. It’s the only explanation for why Steele is gaining strength. He needs corruption and despair to fully form.”

  “So what is the proposition?”

  “Ah, a rational man.” Angelo walked to the window and gazed out of it. Sister Agnes stood looking at him as if he were something other than a man, something more. “My associates, of whom the number is few, intend to explore the spaces beneath the church. We intend to bring up and either bury the fallen in consecrated ground or destroy them. You of all people know from personal experience what we are up against.”

  Burt shivered violently, causing Sister Agnes to run over and put her warm hands on him. “Angelo, I didn’t wander into their lair, they came up and got me. The pure strength of their hands was staggering. To be touched by this evil is horrific. It never leaves. You can’t go down there, not even with an army.”

  Angelo took his time before replying, “But what happens if we do not? First this town, then the next town until Steele enters the city? Think of all his possible converts, like Rose, putting innocents in his way. This kind of evil has manifested before, but this time we have the opportunity to stop it.”

  Sister Agnes continued to massage warmth and hope into Burt which gave him the courage to ask, “Where did it happen?”

  “In Europe, one example started with a frustrated artist...�
��

  “No.”

  “Evil finds a niche. It lures, it rewards, it hungers until it finds ultimate satiation. It cannot be left to roam so freely again.” Angelo faced Burt. “We need you and your team to help us in our endeavor. In exchange, we will give your group inside information on haunts that can be captured on film. Places to explore that will not harm you. In short, you help us, you get your dreams.”

  “That’s if we survive.”

  “That’s the risk.”

  “How do I know you can come through with the goods?”

  Angelo laughed. “Not easily led are you? Okay, I’ll give you a freebie that can be filmed. Take your team to the cellar of Stephen Murphy’s house. Bring along some pickaxes and other excavation tools. Inside the south wall of the cellar is Chastity Murphy’s body. That is why she haunts the farm. She never left it.”

  Burt sighed. “If it’s there, then you have a deal. I can’t speak for all of them, but this piece of information being real will go a long way in persuading the rest of the team.”

  “I see your friend is here, and the nurses are waiting. Here’s my card. Call me soon. We move on Sunday.” Angelo handed Burt his card and smiled at Sister Agnes before leaving.

  The sister stayed at his side until the nurse came to discharge him and wheel him out of the hospital.

  Chapter Forty-three

  Mia tiptoed past the guestroom on her way to the kitchen. Last night’s pizza and conversation with Whit brought back an air of normalcy to her life. They had shared a few laughs, although he remained distant and no longer teased her. Her childhood daydreams of her and Whit Martin were painted over by Whit’s mourning of Sherry and Mia’s thoughts about a certain ghost hunter.

  Mia sat down in the stillness of the living room and closed her eyes. She wanted to try bilocating while Whit was in the apartment, in case something went wrong. Mia breathed deeply and let herself get into a meditative state. From there she pondered how nice it would be to go to the kitchen. Nothing happened, much to her disappointment. She rotated her neck back and forth before resuming a meditative pose.