The Hauntings of Cold Creek Hollow (Haunted Series)

by Alexie Aaron

  Burt took the pills and started eating. “This is so surreal, like an out of body experience.” He looked around at the sunlit kitchen and Mia sitting there dunking a piece of toast in an egg.

  “Wait until the pills hit you,” Mia snorted. “I have this feeling like something isn’t finished. But I need time to rest. My body and mind are battered.”

  “Me too.” Burt started eating. “This is good. I noticed a boat pulled up on your lawn. I didn’t know you had a boat.”

  “I don’t, it needs to be returned. Whit came here all hopped up on Tom’s mother’s pills, decided he would just get around the gate with Benny Evert’s boat.”

  “How close are you and Whit?”

  “Before this we were just friendly. We went to school together. He’d kind of look out for me, but I think it was more in a cop way than a friend way. If the trouble in the hollow hadn’t happened, I don’t think he’d even go out of his way to say hello. I’m still Mia the freak.”

  “Does this bother you?”

  “I can’t be friends with someone who wants that part of me to disappear, Burt. I was born this way. I’ve accepted it and learned to live with it. I even did some good with it while I was in Chicago.” She looked at him and beamed. “All by myself.”

  Burt felt a warmth spreading through him. He hoped it wasn’t just the Vicodin. “I want to hear all about it.”

  “Well, there was this fireman...”

  ~

  John Ryan stood next to Father Santos and studied the wall of the studio. There were five handprints - Whit’s he assumed - with five scenes radiating out of the five fingers. The first was a scene of banishment. A woman turned away from a village of Native Americans with fingers pointing and spears drawn. The woman leaves distraught and loses her way and falls into a swamp.

  The next scene is a black mass rising, similar to what Gerald had told him he had seen with Mia, coming out of the swamp. It moved swiftly towards the village and consumed it by twisting the bodies and eating the children.

  From the middle hand was a typical pastoral scene with wagons arriving. This time the men were white, and they built near the swamp. Once again the creature rose.

  The next scene was Steele’s group being seduced by the woman of the swamp. Twisting men and enjoying women, some manacled, some not. A half-eaten boy lay on an altar.

  The last was Whit, Mia and Sherry.

  “What do you think Father?” John asked.

  “I think we may have decreased the players in this age old drama, but the play is still going on. I don’t think it’s only Sherry that is haunting Whit. The woman, the hag, of the swamp has taken over Sherry or is using her. Sherry was always her plan B.”

  “How do we resolve this?”

  “I’m not sure. I think we need to find the origination point. The swamp may be anywhere in those woods.”

  “After the dam was built, the land dried up. That’s when the developers came in.”

  “This could have reawakened the hag,” Father Santos offered. “Mia said the threat had been growing for some time. It was only after the Restoration group started on the old houses that she sensed Steele.”

  “Rose could be the key.”

  “But wasn’t she just the secretary?”

  “She was an agent too, a very influential person with her peers. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if she suggested those houses to the group. They had been rotting in the hollow for close to a hundred years. Not many people knew of their existence,” John pointed out.

  “Mia and Whit are in danger,” Father Santos said. “They are the last depicted.”

  “Whit’s over at Tom Braverman’s house.”

  “I’ll call Mia,” Santos said as he flipped open the phone. “It wouldn’t hurt Whit to spend some time in the Lutheran church. It may slow the hag up,” he suggested.

  “I’ll make the calls,” John said and walked out of the room.

  ~

  Burt had offered to do the dishes when the phone rang, and Mia walked over and stared at the ID before picking it up.

  “Father Santos,” she answered.

  Burt, who was clearing the plates, stopped what he was doing and walked over.

  “I’m not alone, but I do need to refortify the sanctuary... Burt Hicks. I know, me too... I’m going to put you on speaker so Burt can hear.”

  “Fine, this way I don’t have to repeat myself. Let me start at what has been going on at Whitney Martin’s house.” The priest started talking, and Mia moved into the protective embrace of Burt. It was some time before he finished his tale.

  “Father, what are we going to do?” Mia asked.

  “You stay put. This is an old evil. I think the old ways will work. Salt, brick and water,” he listed. “I will get the group together. Can I bring them to your home tomorrow?”

  “Just don’t pass by the graveyard,” Mia requested. “There are a lot of hitchhikers there.”

  “Burt, you stay with her.”

  “I’m not leaving, Father,” he assured. Father Santos hung up. Mia moved deeper into Burt’s arms.

  Burt held on to her for quite some time before speaking. “I think the first thing is to fortify your perimeter.”

  “Yes. I have everything I need,” Mia said, burrowing in Burt’s arms.

  His eyes misted. “Mia, I’ll do everything I can. I’m not leaving you.”

  She looked up at him. “I know.”

  “Time for you to get dressed. I can’t think with the right brain when you’re all snuggly and bare-assed,” Burt growled.

  “Okay, let’s get moving. And when we’re done, you can mount a perimeter assault,” Mia said as the sparkle returned to her eyes.

  “I love it when you talk all battley,” Burt teased. “Now get a move on and put on some pants.”

  ~

  Whit paced back and forth down the aisle of the church. He wasn’t buying what the sheriff was trying to tell him.

  “What do you mean it isn’t Sherry?” Whit asked. “It paints like her. And how did it know about Mia?”

  “Father Santos says it may just be reading your mind, using your guilty conscious to manipulate you.”

  “Sounds more like Rose...”

  “Why?”

  “She was the queen of manipulation. As far as I can remember, she has been sneaking around spying on people. Twisting the facts and controlling the weak.” He thought a moment. “Rose bought the first house of the five they renovated. Out by the twist in the stream.”

  “I thought there were only the four. Three at the hollow and April Johnston’s place,” John listed.

  “Nope, five. Bring me a county map, and I’ll show you,” Whit offered.

  “You’re not to leave here. That’s an order. I have Tom posted at the door. I told him to shoot you if you do.”

  “Isn’t that a bit drastic?” Whit said, raising an eyebrow.

  “I told him to take out a leg, knee if he had to.” John Ryan smiled. “I am not chasing you around town. You understand.”

  “Yes, but what do I do in the meantime?” Whit asked, holding out his arms.

  “Reflect. Come to think of it, a prayer or two wouldn’t hurt.”

  “How come Mia doesn’t have to be confined?” he asked the retreating back.

  “She’s got protection,” John Ryan said as he opened the door to leave. He turned and looked back at Whit once more before shutting the door.

  Chapter Fifty-two

  “You want to remind me again why you have crushed red brick circling the house?” Burt asked as he finished inspecting the circuit, filling in where it gapped.

  “It’s a deep south thing. Nothing that wants to do you harm will cross it. I could just do the doorways, but I like being out on the deck.”

  “Okay, does it work?”

  “Don’t know. Haven’t really tested it yet,” Mia said thoughtfully. “Although, why not?”

  “It’s pretty.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” Mia put he
r hands on her hips. “I think the perimeter is fortified.”

  Burt looked around at the property. The front lilac hedge was just starting to bud. The grass needed mowing, but Mia said the mower would ruin the salt and brick circles so they could leave off the mowing for a while.

  “You want me to move the boat?” he said, looking at the aluminum craft.

  “Nope, the owner’s in Florida until May, I think. We may need it for a getaway.” Mia laughed. “Hope you row better than I.”

  “Another chink in your armor. Mia, I’m crushed. You have no rowing abilities?”

  “None,” she shook her head slowly. “I can’t even canoe.”

  “That’s it. I’m packing. Can’t live with an oar-challenged woman,” Burt teased.

  Mia pouted, “I can learn.”

  “I’m a good teacher. Why don’t we go inside, and I’ll teach you a few new things.” Burt angled his head suggestively.

  “Are you feeling alright?”

  “I’m a bit stiff.”

  “I can see that,” Mia said, looking at him. She walked over and took his hand. “I promise to be gentle.”

  “Not too gentle,” Burt said as he stepped over the salted threshold.

  “Okay, not too gentle.” Mia closed the door behind her.

  ~

  She hovered by the gate. Watching, waiting, hurting and aching. She followed his scent from the hollow. Steele was gone, and she needed another lover. She had tasted this man during the battle. So far he resisted her call. If he continued to reject her, he would pay for it. Until then, she would play with the painted man.

  ~

  Whit, Tom and John stood looking over the county map. “Rose’s house is here in the low area between the hollow and the Johnston place,” Whit pointed out. “It’s not more than fifty years old.”

  “Give me that topographical map, son,” John asked Tom.

  Tom spread the map out. The three looked for landmarks and eventually singled in on Rose’s house. It was in a lowland.

  “I wonder if this could have been a swamp before the dam went up,” John asked. “I’m going to call around and see if we can get some older maps of the area.”

  “Why?” Whit asked.

  “I think the original source of all this evil may have been residing under Rose’s house.”

  “It sure would explain a couple of things,” Whit said.

  “Who is Rose’s heir?” John asked.

  “I’ll make some calls. As far as I know, Rose wasn’t married, and her folks died some years back,” Tom told them.

  “Okay, let’s get moving on this. Whit, you come with me,” John ordered. “I promised Father Santos to keep an eye on you.”

  ~

  “Where was the paint boy?” she wondered as she entered the house. Night was coming, and she wanted to play. Frustrated and angry, she tore the cabinets off the walls of his kitchen, her long nails raking over the milled wood. She moved on to his bedroom and sniffed his sheets. He hadn’t been back since the morning. She would go back and rest a while, build up her energy until paint boy returned or tasty man left his protection.

  ~

  Mia lay next to Burt, listening to his steady breathing. She opened up her mind and let it drift away from the bed where they had tenderly made love. She drifted away from the house and sensed that something evil had been at her gate. She could see a faint darkness that stained the cement where it seemed to pace. Mia drew back into herself and opened her eyes.

  It wasn’t yet six in the evening. She eased out of bed and walked into the living area. It was clean enough for company, and she could offer them coffee thanks to Burt. She checked every opening again. All was well.

  “Honey, come back to bed,” Burt purred from the bedroom.

  She padded in asking, “Aren’t you hungry?”

  “Starved. But come back to bed. I want to tell you about the dream I just had.”

  Mia crawled under the covers. “I love dreams, tell me.”

  “I was having a conversation with Murphy. We were sitting on the picnic table, but it was here at your place because we were watching the water. He told me this was the safest place to be because the hag hated water. You were coming towards us carrying a pitcher of lemonade. Murphy said that I better marry you or he was going to axe me.”

  “Are you sure he didn’t say he was going to ask me? I’ve always fancied being a farmer’s wife.” Mia grinned.

  “I can’t see, if you can’t row a bloody boat, how you are going to milk a cow?” Burt reasoned. “To continue... there was something else he said, but I can’t figure it out. He said there were bones under the roses.”

  “It must have been important if Murphy talked to you. He’s only said four words to me my entire life, and the first two were, ‘tough shit.’”

  “Really?”

  “It surprised me. The other was ‘get mad,’ so if he said all that to you, I’d pay attention.”

  “Even though it was in a dream...”

  “Especially because it was in a dream,” Mia said sagely. “I was trying to travel out of my body earlier.”

  “Oh, how far did you get?” he asked interested.

  “I didn’t get farther than the front gate,” Mia snorted. “I’m too chicken. I sensed something was amiss earlier, and I was able to see a blackness where something bad had been before.”

  “What brought you back, oh wandering one?”

  “You. Plus I was starving.”

  “Next time bring back a pizza,” Burt instructed.

  “Smart ass,” Mia giggled. “Pizza sounds good.”

  “Do you get delivery out here?”

  “Nope, but I have a frozen one we could dress up a bit.”

  “Sounds great. Do we have to get out of bed to make it?”

  “Yes, but we can eat it in bed,” Mia offered.

  “I’d rather...”

  Mia stopped his words with a kiss.

  “Censorship, Ms. Cooper.”

  “One tries.” Mia kissed him again. “So what did you say to Murphy?”

  “My business,” Burt said seriously.

  “Fair enough.” Mia moved on top of him. She put a hand on either side of his face. “I want you to listen carefully to me.”

  “Okay, don’t mind the wood you’re raising,” Burt said, adjusting himself.

  “Murphy may seem like a decent sort, but there is a mean side to him. There is more holding him here than a couple of acres.”

  “I understand. Now, how about my problem?” Burt lifted the sheets and stared under them.

  “I wonder if I have an axe somewhere.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.” Burt grabbed her and tickled.

  Mia fell over laughing, and Burt rolled over her. “I love to hear you laugh.” He reached down with one hand and continued the assault.

  “Stop, oh man,” Mia laughed and squirmed. “Geneva Convention, no torture.” She laughed some more, and he stopped tickling her. “Whew!”

  “You’re a really beautiful woman,” he said huskily as he bent down and kissed her.

  “You’re due for an eye exam,” Mia said and kissed him back.

  “I have twenty-twenty vision.”

  “That’s not all you have,” she said as she reached for him.

  “That’s your fault. I’m innocent.” Burt rolled his eyes at her touch. He gently lowered himself upon her.

  They moved slowly together, savoring each moment joined. Mia would remember this time the rest of her life. As he filled her, she realized she loved this man. And she knew without any words being said that he loved her too.

  Chapter Fifty-three

  The group started arriving around nine in the morning. Mia and Burt got up early but spent way too much time in the shower enjoying each other, so they had to scramble to make coffee and straighten the house.

  Burt moved his SUV into the garage next to the F150. He waited for the group to arrive. He was on gate duty while Mia finished baking some cookies.
She left him with instructions.

  “Before they drive in, you check out the vehicle, make sure no one has hitched a ride. Then once they drive in and get out, put a salt ring around the vehicle. Especially if it’s the sheriff as he will no doubt drive by the cemetery.”

  “How many are we expecting?”

  Mia tried counting in her head and gave up. “Seven?”

  “Seven cars?”

  “Oh, I hope not. If that’s the case, they’ll have to park in the street.”

  The first car to arrive was a black sedan with tinted windows. Burt opened the gate but held up his hand and motioned to the driver to put the windows down. Gerald complied. Burt smiled at Bev. He noticed a pale young woman sitting in the back.

  “Is she real?” he asked Bev.

  She broke out laughing. “Yes, she is, although who could tell. The girl needs some sun. Burt, this is Sabine.”

  He nodded at Sabine as he motioned for Gerald to pull the sedan in and park as far over as he could.

  Seconds later, a large black truck pulled up. The windows went down, and Burt could see Angelo and Father Santos. Burt directed them over to the left.

  Burt was just about ready to shut the gate when a brief beep alerted him to the Sheriff’s Department sedan that was entering the drive. He wasn’t surprised to see Tom and the sheriff, but seeing Whit did give him reason to pause. The vehicle was clean, and Tom pulled the car behind the black sedan.

  “Mia’s in the house. Mind the salt and brick dust, please,” Burt said as the group headed over to the house. He shut the gate and proceeded to pour a rock salt line this side of the gate.

  “Can I help?” Tom asked.

  “Sure, grab a container and pour an unbroken circle around each car. I asked if I could just do one big circle around all of them and got an earful.”

  “Mia is a handful,” Tom said and headed for the garage.

  They worked together, and soon they were on their way to join the others.