The October People (Gulf Coast Paranormal Extra Book 1)

by M. L. Bullock

  I walked to the window and set the recorder on the windowsill as I took in the view. At least there were no broken windows in this room. But there was also not one stick of furniture and not much of a view. Nothing to see but woods. Gosh, the sun was going down quickly. Too quickly. I’d have to finish setting up, but I had already decided that this would be the room; this would be HQ for the next few days.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I am going to hang around for a few days. I brought my own cot and a pillow. Would you mind if I stayed in here?”

  I shivered at my own question. I didn’t hear a word, but I was convinced that I would hear something once I reviewed the tape. Yeah, I was pretty confident about that. “I am going to take pictures too. Would you like to take a picture? May I take yours?” I snapped a few shots but still nothing. I wasn’t alarmed. Not frightened, not apprehensive. Instead, I got the strange sensation that I was expected, that whoever was here wanted me here.

  Now that is a worrying thought.

  “Non timebo mala…do you know what that means?”

  A clicking in the hallway caught me off guard. It was the exact same sound my camera made, only I wasn’t taking pictures in the hallway. And there was no possible way that was an echo; that’s not how acoustics worked. I took another shot of the empty corner and silently counted off seconds; when I got to ten, I heard it again.

  What in the Sam Hill?

  I walked into the hallway and looked around. I took another picture just for the heck of it. I counted off again and waited. Nothing. Hmm…maybe I’m making too much of it. I stepped back into the room and returned to the previous spot.

  “Is that you taking pictures in the hall? Are you taking my picture? I think I hear you. Can you do it again?” I waited another minute, but the phantom photographer did not repeat the sound. “I tell you what. I will leave my camera here on the windowsill. You can use it if you like. See this button? If you touch it, it will make that sound. You can touch it, but don’t break it. I will be right back.”

  I set the camera on the windowsill, pushing it back far enough so it wouldn’t fall off, and checked my watch. It was now 4:45 p.m. and time to get this show on the road. If I came back and found photos on the camera after that time, I would know that I made contact with someone. Or something.

  Boy, if that’s the case, this would be record time, I think.

  I hurried down the stairs, retrieved my cases and came back up. Nothing was moved, I heard nothing else, and I didn’t bother with the camera or audio recorder yet. I had to make three more trips; by the third, I was winded. I set up my cot and removed my thermal camera and tripod. I was definitely putting these guys in this hallway. I set them up, then grabbed an extra digital camera and slipped off down the stairs to lock the door and check the bottom floor.

  I didn’t like it down here. How had the atmosphere changed that quickly? It wasn’t cozy at all; in fact, it was kind of sickening. Kind of awful. The hallways were cluttered, and there were birds in some of the rooms as well as evidence of rodents. Yeah, I was glad I had decided to stay upstairs. It felt less decrepit on the second floor.

  So, what’s the plan, Jocelyn? What to do first?

  From some of the reports, the auditorium, the big room to my right, was a hot spot for paranormal activity. I supposed the practical thing to do was spend some time in there. And then maybe take some shots in the backyard focusing on the windows. When I walked toward the auditorium, I turned just in time to see a feather falling to the ground.

  And it appeared to have fallen out of thin air.

  It was a big black feather, maybe from a raven or a crow. I ducked, expecting to see a bird circling me, but saw nothing. I heard birds, but they were tiny finches. Nothing as large as whatever this came from. I took a picture as it landed on the ground. Looking around the room again, I searched for the bird, but there was nothing to see.

  Okay, reality check. No way did that float down from nowhere. You probably stirred up the feather when you walked past it, or it fell from a beam above you. There are all kinds of birds in this place. I took a few more pictures of the feather, and then I touched it briefly. It felt kind of crunchy, like it had been here a long while.

  And then the hallway went completely silent. All the birds stopped chirping. Even the crickets outside got quiet, like they did whenever there was a predator nearby. When I camped with my grandparents growing up, that was our cue to hunker down. But I didn’t see anything, and I sure wasn’t a predator. Maybe there was something here I could not see?

  That’s when I decided it was time to move. The auditorium could wait for a little while. The investigator in me said, “Get in there!” Survivor-Jocelyn voted that down, at least for the time being. Time to go back upstairs and come up with a solid plan.

  I put the feather back. I didn’t want to touch it anymore.

  It didn’t belong to me.

  Chapter Four—Hugh

  The last of the staff left this morning, and I assured the groundskeeper that I too would shortly depart. It was the first of October, an ominous day according to the locals, but I felt no fear. In fact, I felt nothing but relief. I did not realize how much I needed a break from the hectic demands of the Leaf Academy. True, there were a few reports to finish and some light duties to attend to, but I imagined the next month would be restful for both young Ollie and me. First order of business? Write to his parents immediately. The boy was not forthcoming with the details of their delay, but I must have a timeline. I would need to plan for our food and other necessities. But for how long?

  “How does walking suit you, young man? I thought we could explore the trail behind the academy. I think that red fox is running around again.”

  For the first time in a long while, I saw a glimmer of a smile on the boy’s face. It was brief, but I was glad to see it. “And I secreted a few more apples. I have them in my pouch. We can take them with us, in case we get hungry. How does that sound?”

  “Do red foxes eat apples?”

  “No, I do not think they do. I think they prefer mice and rabbits.”

  “Oh,” he said, looking a little sad.

  “Come now, don’t look so glum. Maybe this fox likes apples. We shall soon find out.” We tied on our shoes, and I allowed the boy to carry the bag of apples. I stuffed my sketchpad and pencils in my satchel, along with a canteen of water and a few crackers. I did not think we would be gone too long, but one could never tell. I had a tendency to daydream; it had been so long since I could allow my mind to wander. Still, I had to look out for the boy. He was so fragile and would likely need comfort and companionship. Yes, this had been the right thing. We needed this quiet and solitude, both of us, for different reasons.

  We walked out of the room, and by habit I locked it with my key. To my surprise, Ollie put his hand in mine as we headed down the stairs and outdoors. As we were not in school and there was no stern headmaster present to disapprove of such fatherly affection, I gladly accepted the boy’s hand. I had never been a father, but I could not imagine a situation where I would not bring my son home for his holiday. How could a good man do such a thing? I quietly pledged to scold his father and remind him of his responsibilities. If it had been me, I would have moved heaven and earth to bring my son home.

  But I was no father, nor would I ever be, I imagined. I released the boy’s hand as we stepped out into the sunshine and smiled at the sight of the nodding green grass that blew in a pleasant breeze. There were songbirds nearby too, and I thought I could hear the water splashing in the creek. That was certainly just my imagination; I had never heard the water from this distance before. You had to travel through the gate and down the path a little before you could hear the creek. But I could hear it very clearly now. I felt my skin prickle with strange awareness. And just like that, all that was peaceful and wonderful vanished.

  A man stood at the far side of the yard just beyond the metal fence. He stood stock-still like some kind of menacing statue. I could not
see his face or any of his features, for it appeared to me that he was made entirely of shadow. I heard Ollie’s breathing still beside me. He must see him too! I shoved the boy behind me as I watched the shadow darken slightly and then vanish altogether. I realized that I had been holding my breath. Ollie was clutching the back of my jacket.

  “It’s okay, Ollie. It was a trick of the light. See? There is no one there.” I pointed and smiled down at him. Was I trying to convince Ollie or myself? There had certainly been someone there. Yes, indeed. Probably my height, maybe a little taller. He wore no hat and had thick, dark hair.

  “Let us go this way. There are many things to see on the front lawn.”

  “But what about the red fox?”

  “Surely we will find him there. Let us hunt for him.”

  “Okay,” he agreed happily. He scampered in front of me while I looked behind us once more. No more shadow. Nothing at all. But he had been there.

  All the hopefulness of the day blew away with the fear that overwhelmed me. For Ollie’s sake, I continued on with our plan. Otherwise, I might very well have returned to my room to survey the grounds from my window, to look for the shadowy stranger from a safer vantage point.

  To my surprise, we did find animal tracks. Many, many animal tracks. Even some that might be attributed to a dog or a red fox, as young Mr. LeFlore wanted to believe. Around lunchtime, we gobbled up the apples and drank our fill from the water canteen, and I decided it was time to return to the academy. For some reason, the thought of returning did not fill me with comfort even though I had many books to read and certainly could find much to entertain myself and my unexpected guest.

  However, the idea of remaining outside disturbed me more. True, it was still early in the afternoon, but it was the first of October and the shadows seemed unusually long. When I turned my head slightly, I could see them moving in ways I had never seen before. Once or twice I caught Ollie looking around too, but neither of us admitted there was anything to fear. The boy found track after track, discovering one thing and then another. He even found a black feather and brought me to see it.

  “You could add this to your collection,” he said as he smiled sweetly.

  How could he know that? He had not seen me hide the feather earlier. Or had he? A sick feeling washed over me. Must be all the apples. “We should leave it here, Ollie. Come, let’s go inside now. I think it might rain.”

  The boy was quiet now. “You should take it. Add it to your collection, Mr. McCandlish,” he said as he sidled closer and took my hand. Why did he feel so cold?

  “No, thank you, Ollie. We should go inside now. We could drown in the rain, lad.”

  He snatched his hand away and stormed up the path to the school. I could not understand his behavior, but I was ready to be away from this horrible place. No, rain wasn’t far away. I could smell it in the air. And what a rain it would be. We raced up the back steps just as the first drops splashed down. I closed the door behind us and locked it in case our unwanted guest attempted to come closer.

  Yes, the shadow. I know I saw him.

  Certainly, he would not try to come in. But if he did, I would defend myself and my charge. The rain fell harder, and by the time we reached my room it was coming down as if someone were tossing buckets of tears down from heaven, as my Nanna would have described it. Strange that I would think of her now.

  “Come on, Ollie. Let us rest a bit and then think about what to cook for dinner.” As we hurried down the corridor, I could see that my door was standing wide open. Ollie’s hand was in mine again. Ach, Hugh. He is nothing but a scared lad. Have a care and be kind. Would it have hurt to pick up the blooming feather? I patted his hand once and went to investigate the open door, but he pulled me back with a surprising strength.

  “They are here now, Mr. McCandlish. They have been watching us all day. We have to leave. You have to take me with you.”

  “We aren’t going anywhere, Ollie. Stay put.” I eased his small frame against the wall and dug in my satchel for the paring knife I carried for peeling the apples. It felt sticky from the juice, but I clutched it as determinedly as if it were the sword Excalibur. As I stepped closer, I saw the door was only partially open. I pushed it open all the way, but there was no one there. No one at all. No shadows, no interlopers.

  Nothing but one black feather.

  Chapter Five—Jocelyn

  Although I felt unsettled now, my feelings weren’t evidence of the paranormal. I wanted this; I’d been writing for months, hoping to get in here. And now here I was at the famed Leaf Academy freaking out over a few feathers. I focused on breathing as I closed my eyes and played back the audio recorders, both the one from the window and the one I carried with me downstairs. I was particularly interested to hear anything from this room or the hallway downstairs. There! I clicked the button and rewound it. Turning up the volume, I shoved my headphones into the plug with shaking fingers.

  …me…

  Someone was definitely making contact, but the phrase wasn’t clear. The voice sounded like a child, maybe a boy? It was hard to tell with child spirits sometimes. I played it again.

  …come find me…

  And the voice was followed by a series of clicks. Familiar clicks like the ones my camera made. The camera! I’d forgotten to check my camera! I grabbed it and removed the memory card. As I sat on my makeshift bed, I opened my laptop and slid the card into the slot. A folder of pictures appeared, and I knew I would need to study each of them slowly. It was dark now, so dark that I had to pause to flip on my LED lamp. I shut the door while I was up. I had the feeling that at any moment someone would walk into the room. It seemed kind of silly closing the door on a ghost, but hey, it made me feel better. At least for a little while.

  Sitting back on the cot, I hit play. The first photo freaked me out. This was a picture of me! I was leaving the room. There were several shots of me and then the closed door. If that wasn’t freaky enough, I saw what looked like a face peering back at me from the shadowy corner of this very room. A little boy, if I had to guess, but the way he was turned, I could not see him full on. It was as if he did not want me to take his photo and turned away a little. But I could see the shape of his head, an ear and his profile. I caught my breath and immediately sent a copy of the picture to Midas along with a quick email.

  Already seeing results. Wish me luck.

  I closed the laptop before I could read what he wrote back. I didn’t want to get into a long conversation or be reminded of the downside to investigating alone, but I had to show someone. I was getting evidence, good evidence. The kind I could believe in and rely on. Or maybe I just wanted to prove something to him. Or myself.

  I heard a sound in the hallway. “Hello?” I hurried to the doorway and swore I heard footsteps run down the hall. My plan had been to take a nap and then investigate until sunup, but it looked like my plans might be changing. If the ghosties wanted to come out and play, I was game. I leaned against the door with my ear pressed against it. Yeah, footsteps retreating now. The sound was so real I could hear the grit beneath my visitor’s shoes. Was this a real person? I mean, a living person? I opened the door and practically launched myself into the hallway.

  I caught sight of a pant leg and a black shoe disappearing into another room. That was no child! There was someone here! I raced back to my room and grabbed my flashlight and camera. I wasn’t sure what I would do with that combination, maybe blind the guy and then take his picture, but it was all I had. Why would someone in dress pants and dress shoes be hiding up here in the deserted Leaf Academy?

  “Hey, I saw you!” I called as I waved my flashlight around. “You may as well come out.” I paused in the hallway outside the room that I believed my unwanted guest had disappeared into. A cluster of shadows on the wall beside me fluttered and moved out of my view. Some shadows remained, silhouettes of the tree branches outside, but there had been more shadows before that. It was as if things that imitated shadows had been hiding amo
ngst the real ones. And I saw them move! I had never seen anything like that before. They scurried across the wall and vanished to the opposite side where I couldn’t see them. Now what?

  I wished I’d thought to bring a K2 meter, but did I really need one? Strange crap was obviously going down at the Leaf Academy, and I was slap-dab in the middle of it. To say I didn’t enjoy the adrenaline rush would be a lie, but I was no fool. People who hide out in deserted schools aren’t exactly the cream of the social crop. I heard footsteps again and decided to follow the sound, not from the room this time but farther down. I walked down the hall a little slower now, waving my flashlight wildly as if at any moment the man would come running out to challenge me.

  Or that pack of wild shadows.

  Okay, this felt weird. The door to the next room was standing open, just like the front door had been. Like a crazy invitation from someone who desperately wanted to connect with me. Maybe that’s what all this was? An attempt to connect? I had certainly heard that little boy’s voice on the recorder. Maybe the guy in the dress pants was a ghost too? Sometimes apparitions could look like regular folks if you weren’t paying attention.

  “Hello? I thought I saw you come in here. Are you with the little boy? What is your name?” I flipped the camera to video and began to film as I walked into the room. There was no one here and nowhere for anyone to hide. The remnants of an old bed frame were in the corner of the room. There was a closet with no door and a broken window with glass on the floor. Oh yeah, that could be dangerous.

  The only interesting thing was a wooden crate. I continued to film as I removed the lid and set it to the side. It was almost too heavy to move with one hand. Inside were lots of old books. I picked one up and scanned the title; it was something in Latin that I would never be able to translate without some help from the internet.