Haunted on the Gulf Coast (Gulf Coast Paranormal Trilogy Book 2)

by M. L. Bullock

  “Cassidy to Sierra,” I whispered into my handheld radio.

  “Sierra. Go ahead.”

  “The shadow is gone, but we see a light in the field. Anyone else see it?”

  Midas piped in, “We see it. Everyone stay out of the way. Just record it. Don’t interact.”

  “This way,” I whispered to Aaron. “Let’s get behind these trees. Hold the thermal; it’s recording.” I handed it to him. He’d admitted earlier that he didn’t have much experience with thermal equipment, and I figured there was nothing like on-the-job training. As we squatted down behind the trees, I realized I was in a familiar spot. “Oh my God. I can’t believe this.”

  “What?” Aaron asked with a touch of worry in his voice.

  “This is where they were, Marguerite and Chebola Bula. They hid here when the lights came.” I clutched his arm to steady myself. I felt disoriented suddenly.

  This way! Run, this way!

  “Did you hear that? It sounded like a female voice,” he said.

  Before I could answer, he was gone. He’d left me alone behind the trees, just like Midas warned him not to. “Aaron! Aaron!” I whispered like a freight train.

  He didn’t come back. There was nothing for me to do but go in after him.

  I got out my radio and said, “Midas, we heard a voice in the woods. A female voice. Aaron…” I didn’t want to get the guy in trouble, did I? “We’re going in.”

  “Cassidy, stick to the…”

  That’s when the walkie went dead. A blue light, like the one I’d seen in my vision of Marguerite and Chebola Bula, pulsated in the center of the field. It stood between me and the van, me and safety. Even if I followed Midas’ instructions, I wouldn’t make it. It knew I was there. It knew! As if it heard me, the light bounced once and made a beeline in my direction.

  Without thinking, I ran into the pitch-black woods behind Aaron. Fear was fueling my legs—until I clocked myself with a tree branch. Without so much as a scream, I was out.

  Chapter Fourteen—Elizabeth Bosarge

  I dreamed of singing and woke briefly to hear a sweet, unusual song in my ears. These weren’t like the hymns we sang on Sundays and certainly not like any song I’d ever heard before. Then the song faded, and I went back to sleep and dreamed of starry skies, frosty fields and Marguerite. She was running, running from a shadow, her hair unbound a look of terror on her face.

  “Wait! Marguerite!” Pausing her flight, she spun nearly in midair and screamed my name so loudly that it shook me out of my dream. I woke up to find my friend missing from our bed. “Marguerite!” I whispered in the darkness. The residue of the nightmare clung to me like a spider web. I tossed back the heavy quilt and ran to the window, and I saw her. First under the tree and then sprinting to the gate. I almost called her name, but that would only get her into trouble…and Marguerite had a talent for that without my assistance.

  Fumbling in the dark, I slid on my wool socks and my shoes. I wrapped my shoulders with a shawl and scrambled toward the door but not before tripping over the corner of the table and smothering a yelp of pain. I had accidentally doused the hem of my gown in lamp oil, but there was no time to change. Marguerite was in trouble—I could feel it in my bones—and if my father discovered that she’d left the fort, it would be worse for her. Much worse. I hated that he disapproved of her so much. I tried to help her, teach her how to please him, but she was not an easy student. Marguerite had a wild streak; my mother said as much at least once a week. And yet for all my help and love for her, I felt that she secretly despised me. I couldn’t understand that.

  All I ever wanted was to be her friend.

  I knew she had great affection for Chebola Bula and considered him a friend, but as I explained to her recently, a friendship with an Alibamu was not appropriate for a young woman. Not a respectable young woman. I tried to point her in the direction of more appropriate friendships, but Marguerite would not listen. And now I would have to rescue her again.

  I slipped out of the house easily enough. And to my surprise, I was able to walk right out of the fort. What could this mean? It was as if the entire place were under a spell, like in a fairy tale. Once outside the walls of the fort, I could see very little until the clouds overhead passed and a sliver of light filtered down.

  Then I spotted Marguerite flitting across the field; before I knew it, I was calling her name. She certainly heard me, for she turned in my direction, her white nightgown shining in the moonlight. “Marguerite! Wait!” Without a word to me, she slipped through the field and to the edge of the forest. Once she stepped into the thick woods, I would never be able to find her. We would not be safe!

  And then I saw a light. A soft blue light. No…two lights! I looked back to the place where I’d seen Marguerite, but she’d disappeared. I called her name again. Suddenly, as if they’d heard me, the lights traveled in my direction. Two lights, bouncing softly side by side, and I heard singing again or humming or whispering. Were the lights singing? Was that what I’d heard earlier?

  “Marguerite?” I whispered. Fear traveled up my spine, but I couldn’t move. I stared at the lights as they slowly drew closer. As I watched them, I felt my fear vanish. I felt enchanted, curious. I stepped toward the lights, and they stopped and bounced up and down softly. These weren’t torches or lightning. It was as if the balls of light sensed my presence. They knew that I was here and searching for Marguerite. Were they trying to stop me?

  As they moved closer to me, I felt a strange warmth emanating from them. Gentle warmth, friendly warmth.

  Were these real? Was I dreaming still? My cold arms and legs told me I was very much awake, but what could this mean? And then the lights merged and expanded. First it was a round light, and then it stretched and grew longer, flatter, like a flat johnnycake. It suddenly vanished and then reappeared even larger a few seconds later, and I couldn’t resist the urge to touch it. What was this wonderful warmth? Then I saw eyes. Blue eyes. What was I seeing? Was this a ghost?

  It drew so close now that I caught my breath. Without thinking, I touched the light with my hand and for a brief second enjoyed the warmth. Then all the world became flames, and fire and pain overwhelmed me. So much pain. The light buzzed away and left me writhing on the frosty grass. I screamed for Marguerite, but she did not come.

  Finally, I couldn’t scream or speak or cry. All I could do was burn.

  Chapter Fifteen—Cassidy

  “I’m burning! I’m burning!” I swatted at phantom flames before realizing that I wasn’t in a field writhing in pain and I wasn’t the long-dead Elizabeth Bosarge. I squinted up at the pine tree above me and instantly put two and two together. That low-hanging branch did a real number on me.

  “Cassidy! Can you hear me?” Chebola Bula’s face hovered in front of me. “I think she’s awake!” No, I was wrong. This was Aaron. I felt like I was smothering, and the sickening smell of burning flesh clung to me. I had to get off the ground. And then Midas was there; even in the darkness I could tell it was Midas. His warm hands, his soothing voice, his muscular outline.

  He knelt down beside me and examined my aching forehead. With a concerned expression, he asked, “You in there, Cassidy Wright?”

  “I think so.” I sat up but didn’t try to stand. “Tell me you didn’t see that.”

  Midas half smiled. “Yeah, I did, and we caught it on the thermal camera too. I hate to tell you this, but it might be played at the office Christmas party.”

  He was clearly joking, but I wasn’t feeling very humorous at the moment. “Great.” I rubbed my head and immediately found the sore spot. What I needed was an ice pack, and probably some ibuprofen and maybe even a hospital, but I had to tell my team what I knew. I’d had a vision or a dream or…something while I lay knocked out on the ground.

  Midas checked my eyes with his flashlight, which was as bright as the sun. “Hey, cut that out. I’m okay,” I complained.

  “Why did you guys run in here? I told you to stay put. We h
ad the lights on the thermal, but they vanished.”

  I put my hand to the goose egg on my forehead. “We heard a female voice in here telling us to run. Then the elemental was there; it came buzzing toward me, and all I wanted to do was get out of its way.”

  “Where were you, Aaron?”

  With an apologetic tone, he confessed, “I went to investigate the voice. I thought Cassidy was behind me. I thought you and Joshua were watching the loa-light.”

  Midas didn’t answer him; the look he gave him said it all. This might be the last Gulf Coast Paranormal investigation for Aaron DeSearcy, which seemed unfair since I’d run in here too. “Don’t get up, Cassidy. Give yourself a minute to get your bearings.”

  “I have to tell you what I saw, Midas. Elizabeth…covered in flames. The elemental…Elizabeth saw eyes in the light—eyes in the loa. She made contact with it, but I don’t think the elemental intended to burn her. She had an accident before she left her house and spilled lamp oil on her nightgown. She’s confused, she’s hurt. She doesn’t understand, Midas.”

  “But you said they surrounded her in the field,” Midas said. “The encounter sounded aggressive.”

  “I know, but I was wrong. They were around her, but I don’t think they were attacking her.” Could that be wrong? Had I made a mistake about their intentions?

  “Let’s pack it up, guys. I think we’ve all had enough excitement for one night,” Midas said.

  I wasn’t about to back down. “I’m not leaving just yet. We have a job to do, and we’re going to do it. We’re close now. I can feel it, Midas. What if we asked Sierra to make contact with Elizabeth? She might be able to get through to her.” I pretended I didn’t notice the stillness that had settled over everything. We had someone’s attention—that was for sure.

  “That’s a bad idea, Cassidy. Sierra isn’t up to it. You know how she’s been lately. And to ask her to do this would be…”

  “If it was just for me, I wouldn’t ask her, but Elizabeth…she’s stuck here, Midas. I can feel it. She’s afraid and needs our help. If we can talk to her, explain it to her, maybe she’ll find peace. Please?”

  Midas hoisted me to my feet and kissed my cheek, completely breaking his no-flirting-on-the-job rule. I wasn’t complaining. “Listen, you can ask her, but first I’m going to get the equipment from the cave. I just have to make sure there’s nothing in there because I don’t plan on coming back here after tonight.”

  “Fine, but I’m going with you.”

  He radioed back to the van and let Sierra know we’d be heading up to the cave. Bruce, Helen and Joshua were watching the field, hoping the lights came back. Aaron hardly spoke on the trip to the cave. In the darkness, he moved silently like a big cat. I, on the other hand, sounded like a herd of elephants stomping through the woods.

  “It was about here where we began to hear the arrows fly,” Aaron told Midas as he squatted down on the ground and searched through a pile of leaves. What was he looking for? What did he hope to find in the pitch blackness? “Ah…look at this, sir. I think it’s an arrowhead.”

  “Get out of here!” I said, unable to hide my surprise. I leaned over Midas’ shoulder and took a peek at what Aaron held in his hand. Sure enough, it was a black arrowhead, made from some hard stone. Could that be what we’d heard the other night? No way. There was no shaft on it.

  “It is interesting, but let’s keep moving.”

  Soon the three of us were facing the stone wall, and we scaled it in no time. Fortunately, it was an easy climb and didn’t require ropes or other climbing equipment. I still felt dizzy from my close encounter with the tree branch, but I didn’t let it stop me. We retrieved the camera from the stand, and Midas quickly perused the readout. “Yep, we’ve got multiple hits on this one.” He stuffed the camera in his backpack as we continued into the cave.

  “Feels so weird in here. Like, there’s a strange energy,” Aaron confessed.

  I agreed with him, but Midas reminded us to remain objective. “What’s the first rule in paranormal investigations?”

  “Keep an open mind?” I offered with squinted eyes. This headache was starting to get on my nerves.

  “Okay, yeah, but what’s the next one?” He looked at Aaron for an answer.

  “Feelings alone are not evidence.”

  “Right! Let’s take a look around while we’re in here.” Midas handed me a tiny flashlight. It was mine; I’d apparently lost it during my tree mishap. I clicked it on and began to examine the cave. Immediately, my attention went to the cave paintings. There were so many of them, paintings of deer and cows, and other stories that I would never understand in a month of Sundays. And then I saw the loa. The figures painted in blue with large luminous blue eyes. The eyes stared back at me from the cave wall, but then I wasn’t there anymore.

  I was in the field. I was Elizabeth, and I was staring into those eyes.

  “Cassidy? Did you hear me?”

  I backed away from the paintings, unsure what was happening to me. It had to be a concussion. That would explain the brief hallucination. I only ever saw these things in visions, not while I was awake. Except when I was dreaming after being knocked out.

  “Cassidy!”

  “Yeah, uh, what?”

  “We’ve got EVPs on here. Let’s listen.” Midas rewound the tape and played it for us. This kind of recorder was sound-activated so it recorded only actual sounds, not white noise.

  “Listen, you can hear a male voice. He’s speaking Choctaw.” Aaron stood close to us with a smile on his face, but the smile quickly faded. “No, that’s not Choctaw, but it might be Alibamu. They are similar languages. It’s a warning, I think. He says…mana, liku, loa…”

  “What does that mean?” Midas asked.

  “It means run! Get out now! This is the home of the Ancient Ones.” Aaron was clearly agitated.

  “Then let’s not disappoint him. Grab the equipment. We’re out of here.” Midas snatched up the recorders and shoved them in his backpack. I wanted nothing more than to take a nap, but it wasn’t to be. A strange clicking sound began to fill the cave. A clicking, humming, whispering, coming from somewhere deep in the cave.

  And it was headed our way.

  “Now is the time to run, Cassidy. Get going!” The guys took off, and I trailed behind them. Together the three of us began to scale down the wall, and then I remembered the recorder.

  “Gotta go back. I have to get that!” I shouted. When I climbed back up top, my head was throbbing and my mouth was dry. I ran back into the cave and found the recorder immediately near the entrance. As I reached for it, I heard the clicking.

  I slowly raised my head and saw what I’d been dreading. The blue light. It wasn’t small this time. In the center of the large loa, I saw eyes. Familiar eyes. I was looking into the eyes of Marguerite Babineaux. I couldn’t help myself—I screamed and ran back to the cliff edge. Midas called up to me, and I didn’t waste any time getting down.

  “We’ve got to go, guys. The loa, it’s Marguerite! It’s not safe here!” We ran back to the edge of the forest and didn’t stop running until we climbed into the van.

  Chapter Sixteen—Cassidy

  “Who do you want me to make contact with?” Sierra asked as she made her way over to me with the first-aid kit. Joshua, Helen and Bruce were right behind her. Aaron and Midas were panting for breath and talking excitedly about the EVP from the cave. Sierra removed gauze and other first-aid supplies from the kit, then dabbed some cotton with alcohol and began to clean my wound.

  “Elizabeth. She doesn’t understand what happened to her. And somehow…Marguerite is an elemental. Or something. Is that possible, Aaron?”

  “Like I said before, they are sometimes attracted to places, and sometimes to people. Nobody knows why it happens. Perhaps you have to be a little mad to get an elemental’s attention. I don’t know, but if you say you saw her eyes in the light, I sure believe you. And I’m sorry I got ahead of you, Cassidy. That’s twice I’ve done t
hat.”

  “I’m not counting,” I said good-naturedly.

  “So, tell me about Elizabeth,” Sierra said. “Is she stuck?”

  “I think it all happened so quickly and strangely—her death, I mean—that she doesn’t understand it. She doesn’t know why it happened, but I do. She spilled lamp oil on her gown, and when she came into contact with the loa…”

  “The what?” Sierra paused as she bandaged my forehead.

  “That’s what the Alibamu and Choctaw call these fire elementals. She came into contact with the elemental after she spilled the oil on her clothes. That’s why she caught fire. I think you can reach her, Sierra. Please tell her she can go, that Marguerite didn’t mean for her to get hurt and neither did Chebola Bula. It was all an accident.”

  She didn’t say anything at first. With a quick glance at Joshua and a nod from him, she said, “Sure. I’ll try. Where shall we do this? In the field?”

  “Yes, and thank you, Sierra. If we can go to the field, to the spot where Elizabeth burned, that would be great. I think she’s stuck there. I don’t know that she’ll hear us, but just in case.”

  Sierra put her jacket and gloves back on. “All right, let’s go, but the fewer people around me, the better. I think it’s best if it’s just you and me, Cassidy.”

  Helen offered to come, but Sierra said, “Probably not for the best, Helen. Not with that costume. It might confuse her even more.”

  “All right, but the first sign of trouble, you call us. And if an elemental shows up, don’t touch it.”

  Sierra’s ponytail bobbed as she nodded in agreement. “I don’t plan on it. Let’s go. Cassidy.”

  “It’s this way. Right here.” We had walked about fifty feet. I was pretty sure this was the spot, although there was a bit more brush now. In Elizabeth’s time, there had been nothing but tall grass out here. “Might as well make this an EVP session, Sierra.” I clicked on the audio recorder. “I’ll start, kind of introduce you, and then you take it from there.”