Under The Big Top

by Alice J Black

  * * *

  “What’s going on?” I asked before I reached the big top.

  Rob was standing outside with Terry, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world. His face was pale, and he clutched the clipboard against his chest like it was protective armour.

  He rounded on me. “I thought you said this place was free of ghosts?”

  “I thought you didn’t believe,” I shot back.

  “Maybe if you’d done your job—”

  “Hey!” Jake stepped in. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

  “And who are you?” Terry looked him up and down, and I saw with a hint of amusement, there was a flash of fear in his eyes.

  “This is Jake,” Olivia said. “He’s our supporting operator.”

  “And that means?”

  “Don’t you worry about that.” I turned to Rob. “Rob, what happened?”

  “I got here first thing this morning and decided to tackle the big tent. Once that’s out of the way, we’ll have more room to work.”

  I nodded.

  “We were only in there for half an hour at most, when Charlie was flung across the room. He hit the beam in the middle of the tent and broke his arm."

  I glanced at Jake, then Olivia.

  “What? What is it?” Rob asked.

  “This tent we’re standing in right now.” I motioned to the canvas over our heads. “It was brought down the other night when Jake and I began the investigation. The beam snapped, and the whole thing came down.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Terry snorted.

  “It’s true,” Jake said. “We had to make a run for it.”

  “So how is it still standing?” Rob asked.

  “There must be something we missed.” I bit my lip and lifted the pack off my back which Olivia had so kindly remembered to pick up as we were rushing from the house. I grabbed the DVR and lifted it in front of me. “Can we get everyone out of here, please?”

  Rob’s fingers went to his mouth and he whistled, drawing the attention of the men.

  I wondered whether it was through loyalty or morbid curiosity, but they had all stayed, and soon they were all stepping out of the tent.

  “I’ll be right outside.” Rob crossed the threshold after his men.

  I turned my attention to Terry, who stood with his hands on his hips, clipboard still clutched in his bony fingers.

  “Aren’t you going?”

  “No. I intend to make sure you complete the job.”

  “It won’t be safe,” Olivia said.

  He crossed his arms. “I’m staying.”

  “Okay, fine,” I said. “Don’t say we didn’t warn you. Oh, and Terry?”

  “What?”

  “Make sure you stay quiet.”

  His jaw dropped, but I turned away and switched on the DVR.

  “Who are you?” I said.

  In the quiet of the tent, all I could hear was the breathing of the three others standing behind me. The tension was thick, curling over my shoulders like the chain of an anchor, weighing me down.

  “I’m Peyton. I’m here to help you cross over.”

  A shadow flashed over my mind, so fleeting I almost missed it.

  “Peyton?” Olivia whispered, taking a step closer to me.

  She’d felt it, too. It was strong.

  “You can end this. You can know peace. Tell me who you are.”

  Laughter broke through the tension, thick and viscous, filling the air.

  I heard Jake mumble something, head shaking as he searched for the invisible creator of the sound.

  Terry stepped back.

  I stopped the recording and replayed it. I heard my voice over and then silence. And then right at the end, when I’d demanded to know who he was, the voice answered.

  I am Cannelleni.

  The breath caught in my throat. A second later I heard footsteps. When I turned, I saw Terry making a break for it through the tent, to the open air.

  “He didn’t last long.” Jake smiled.

  “Cannelleni. He’s the guy who ran this place,” Olivia said.

  “I thought he took off. He left this place to rot when he made a couple bad business decisions.” I frowned. “Hold on.”

  After dropping to my knees, I grabbed another device out of the bag and turned it on. White noise filled the space.

  Jake winced. “What is that?” He pointed to the device.

  I moved to stand and held it flat on my palm. “A spirit box. He can use the white noise to talk through it.” I took a deep breath. “Cannelleni, why are you here?”

  “Killed. Me.” The words came through the bouts of static, in robotic speech.

  “Who killed you?”

  “Performers. Murder.”

  “He was murdered. Here.” Olivia’s hand went to her mouth.

  “The papers said he ran in the night,” I muttered. “But he was killed.”

  “Revenge.” The word came heavy and thick.

  Then Jake was knocked off his feet. He landed on his back just as I turned. Moaning, he pushed himself up onto his elbow and held his hand up to signal he was okay.

  “Cannelleni. We didn’t do this,” I pleaded.

  “Revenge.” The word was a snake hiss, full of bitter bile.

  Olivia flew off her feet. She landed on the earth, with a dull thump and remained still. Then she coughed and reached for the glasses which had been knocked off during the flight.

  “Jake!” I yelled, picking up the spirit box and throwing it his way.

  He caught it and stared at the device.

  “Keep him distracted.”

  I didn’t give him a chance to protest. Instead, I took off, heading for the stage. Why was Cannelleni still here? I had to figure it out and quick.

  I leaped up onto the stage, using my hands to propel me, and landed on the wood. My foot went straight through one of the rotted boards, and I yelled as I nearly fell backwards. I caught one of the old lights that had been used during the show and it held long enough for me to pull myself up.

  On the stage, I moved around the broken patch and searched with my eyes. Nothing but bare boards, lights, and the tattered curtains.

  Taking a left, I hurried behind the stage, where I saw pieces of equipment that had been trashed, broken lights, and rubbish. Nothing personal.

  I rushed back to the front of the stage just in time to see Jake go flying once more, careening into Olivia and sending them both sprawling. I gasped and was just about to jump down to help, when I saw it. A square shape cut in the boards.

  A trapdoor.

  I rushed towards it and dropped to my knees, ignoring the stinging pain that sliced through my flesh. After pulling the square door up, I stared into a darkness beneath.

  Then I fumbled in my bag and found what I was looking for. The head torch. I snapped the elastic over the back of my head, turned it on, and jumped down the hole.

  Under the stage, everything was dark and I was surrounded in a myriad of items that had once been used for the show. None of it was useful. I had to find an item that meant something to him.

  I waded through the materials, across the dirt and dead weeds. I moved past a box that looked like it belonged to a magician and several rusted metal rings on the floor.

  I spotted something white. The gleam of the headlight caught against it. Frowning, I stepped closer and gasped as I realised what I was looking at.

  Bones.

  It wasn’t something that was keeping him trapped here. It was someone.

  Cannelleni’s corpse.

  I heard another thump outside, and then Olivia screamed.

  Shit. I had to be quick. After setting the pack on the floor, I reached for the salt and sprinkled it across the old bones while delving into my pocket. I grabbed the lighter. I struck the flint, held it against the bones, and watched as the structures went up.

  I fell on my backside as I watched the fire consume the bones, licking the matter until it burned. Then the flames ros
e higher and higher. The wood above began to burn, and the smoke increased.

  The bones would continue to burn, and I knew that the reign of terror would end but I would likely join the funfair if I didn’t get out of there. Now.

  “Uh-oh.” I dived to my feet, grabbed the backpack, and rushed back through the miasma of items under the stage.

  The hatch came into view, and I pulled myself up onto the wooden boards. After rushing around the curtain, I saw that the stage was on fire, and through the flames, Olivia and Jake stared at me.

  Jake was yelling, but I couldn’t hear him over the roar of the flames.

  “Shit.”

  I was looking at the only way out. I had no other option if I wanted to be free of the big top.

  Taking a deep breath, I pulled the other strap of the bag onto my free shoulder and then rushed forward. I can do this. I can do this.

  As I neared the flames, I leaped. Crashed through a wall of heat and then emerged out the other side. I landed and rolled, and then there were hands on me, patting me down.

  We were up and running, as behind us, the tent was swallowed up by flames.

  I dived out of the door, and as I looked back, breathless and panting, Jake grabbed my hand.

  “You weren’t kidding, were you?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Not at all.”

  He planted a kiss on my forehead and lay back against the dirt. I dropped to the ground beside him, my legs unable to hold my weight, and watched the fire take the big top.

  A huge crack rendered across the expanse of land, and I knew the beam was coming down for the final time. As the canvas swooped to the ground, still consumed in flames, a lone figure appeared inside.

  A fleeting image. One that I wasn’t sure was real. But as the ringmaster made his final bow, I knew he was at rest.

  “You have destroyed Council property.” Terry’s voice cut through the roar of the fire and the juxtaposed quiet of the morning air. “You will pay for that.”

  I looked up at him. His face was still pale, and a sheen of sweat covered his forehead.

  “I did you a favour, Terry. I not only got rid of the ghost that haunted this place, but I took down that big tent in half the time the men could’ve done it.”

  “She’s right, Terry.” Rob laughed. He held out a hand and heaved me to my feet. “You okay?”

  “I am.” I nodded.

  Jake helped Olivia up. We were bruised and battered and blackened by the smoke.

  “Are you okay, Olive?” I wound my arm over her shoulders.

  Olivia had made the decision to stand down from the fieldtrip portion of our ghost hunts, and now here she was, a victim of the angry ringmaster.

  “I’ll live.” She coughed.

  “The ambulance is on its way,” Rob said to her. “You can get seen.”

  “I’ll be okay.”

  “I insist.” His arm went over her shoulder as mine dropped.

  I expected her to shrug him off and walk towards the road by herself, but she smiled and allowed him to guide her.

  “Well, I didn’t expect that.” Jake scratched his head as he watched the pair walk away.

  “Me neither.” I shook my head.

  “So tell me.” Jake flung his arm around me.

  I smelled his musk mixed with the smoke.

  “Am I really an operations supporter?”

  I grinned. “Self-proclaimed title, if I ever heard one.”

  “Olivia gave it to me.”

  “Well, I guess you have been. On this case.”

  “I can see it now. Blaine and Wayland, Ghost Hunters.”

  “You forgot about Olivia.”

  “Yeah, my bad. Let’s stick with Soul Seekers. I kinda like it.”

  “Jake, you don’t have to do this, you know.” I stopped and shook my head. “This is my world, not yours.”

  “Wherever you’re concerned, it is my world.” He kissed me, sweet and longing.

  The sirens of the ambulance came to a wailing stop, and I could see Rob helping Olivia into the back of the van.

  “I guess it’s our turn next,” I said.

  I took Jake’s hand, and we picked through the debris of the funfair.

  “And after that, we’ve got a whole load of whipped cream to get through.” He grinned.

  I leaned forward and kissed him, our lips meeting in a gentle caress.

  “I agree. I think my work is done here today. I’ve had enough angry ghosts to last a lifetime.”

  About the Author

  Alice lives and works in the North East of England with her partner and slightly ferocious cats! She writes all manner of fiction with a tendency to lean towards the dark side. Most of her work is rooted in darkness, her inspiration coming from a macabre selection of reads as well as the dreams that frequent her sleep.

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  Also by Alice J. Black

  The Leak of Madness

  The Darkness Within

  The Room of Arches

  The Beginning

  Dead Drunk

  Shadows At Starlight

  Murder On The Sapphire Bay

  The Parliament House

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