The Middle House: Return to Cold Creek Hollow (Haunted Series)

by Alexie Aaron

  “Got caught,” Mia admitted. “If I’m ever going to be a spy, I have to remember to return the car seat to the previous position.”

  “Who caught you?”

  “Ryan.”

  “Yikes.”

  “He wasn’t mad; at least I don’t think so. I expect Tom will have to sit through a lecture, but I think he was pleased we acted responsibly. Plus, he’s got a lot on his plate. Me joyriding in the cruiser doesn’t even register as a concern,” Mia said, wrinkling her nose, and added, “I hope.”

  “You realize when they came out today what they wanted, don’t you?” Ted said.

  “Me to visit the graveyard and use my sight to see if I could suss out what was going on,” Mia answered. “They both know of my aversion…”

  “Aversion is one way of putting it,” Ted teased, trying to lighten the moment.

  “Cid, let me ask you a question?” Mia started. “Does screaming, wetting myself, fainting, and being carried out by a mortified Kindergarten teacher qualify as an aversion?”

  Cid gulped and stuttered, “Well, I guess.”

  “Ted, Cid’s better at English than you, so we’ll go with aversion,” Mia said triumphantly.

  Ted chuckled. “You don’t play fair, Mighty Mouse.”

  “I play to win.”

  They drove a few blocks in silence. Ted cleared his voice and asked, “Well?”

  “Let’s do it,” Mia said. She turned to Cid. “Are you up for a trip into the foulest graveyard this side of the Mississippi?”

  “Gee, let me think. It’s dark. Someone was killed there just last night. We don’t have Murphy with us. I’m not feeling it.”

  “Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?” Mia asked, her green eyes narrowing.

  “Filed behind my common sense,” Cid said. “Ted, you can’t be serious. Mia won’t go there in the daylight, and you’re asking her to tread there at the height of ghostie times.”

  Mia spoke up, “I’m willing. I’ve got a feeling that time is not on our side. How about you staying in the truck while Ted and…”

  “No, I’m going. I’m just not happy about it.”

  “Fair enough, Cid Garrett’s objection is noted in the log, Captain,” Mia delivered in a Spock-like voice.

  “I didn’t know redshirts rated notation, Spock,” Ted answered, turning the truck in the direction of the graveyard.

  “Redshirt!” Cid exclaimed. “Now I’m sure I’m not going.”

  “Captain, I believe that you are incorrect. Redshirts are noted in the closing credits along with the big busted extras.”

  “Well at least I’m in good company.” Cid sang, “Poor Cid is dead, big boobs hold up his head…”

  Mia and Ted groaned as Cid continued to immortalize himself in Oklahoma style.

  Ted pulled over at the closed gate of the graveyard.

  Mia took each of their hands in hers and said, “If I wet myself, don’t ever let Whitney Martin know about it. Deal?”

  “Deal,” they chorused.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Mia, Ted and Cid took time to arm themselves from Mia’s emergency kit that she kept locked in the equipment box in the back of her truck. She loaded the sawed-off shotgun with rock-salt-filled shells and filled her pockets with spares. Ted and Cid put on their night vision, infrared goggles, pocketed squirt-bottles of holy water and clipped the micro video recorders to the neck of their hoodies.

  “Remember, typical ghosts can’t hurt you with their hands. But as in the case of the man last night, they can use things from our world to hurt us. Most of the spirits in this boneyard are harmless. Some are needy and will try to suck the energy out of your equipment,” Mia warned.

  Ted watched Mia study the combination lock that was holding the ends of the heavy chain together. It had a large dial numbered from zero to ninety-nine.

  “Ted, you wouldn’t know the date of Jerry Garcia’s death would you?”

  “August 9, 1995,” Ted pulled out of the amazing computer that was his brain. “Why?”

  Mia whirled the dial and stopped at eight but changed her mind and whirled it again and stopped at eighty-nine. She smiled as she felt the lock shudder slightly. Changing directions, she stopped at nineteen and then reversed it, and as she neared ninety-five, she felt the lock ease and pop open. “Sorry, but to answer your question, Jerry Garcia, member of the Grateful Dead,” she said for Cid’s benefit. “His death has special meaning for the Deadheads. Evert, the manager of this place, is a Deadhead.”

  Mia drew the chain away. After she opened the gate, she relocked the gate open. “Wouldn’t want to get accidently locked in,” she explained.

  “Mia, I’m getting the idea this isn’t you first boneyard dance,” Ted accused.

  She gave her husband a wicked smile. “Come on, follow me, if you dare.”

  Mia took time to acquaint Ted and Cid with the layout of the graveyard. “To your right is where the Lutherans bury their own. They are mostly a benign bunch, with the exception of Sally Hahn. She’s been wailing for years. She’ll follow you around, wait until you are relaxed and scream in your ear. Now, Ted, you may not hear her, but I’m betting Cid’s super hearing will pick up the wench.”

  “What’s her problem?” Cid asked.

  “Near as I can figure out, her sister stole her locket from around her neck just before they shut the lid of her coffin. The locket contained a picture of Sally and her sister’s husband. Need I say more?”

  “What happened to the sister?”

  “She force-fed her husband the locket, chain and all, and then shot him. She died in prison. Although, I hear that she died with a smile on her face.”

  “The locket?” Cid asked.

  “I imagine it’s either in an evidence bag somewhere or in the rotting gullet of Sally’s adulterous lover. Either way, Sally’s pissed,” Mia explained. “Let’s see, where was I? Oh, on your left is where they plant the Catholics…” Mia continued the tour, pointing out the various groups of interrees and warning the men of any wandering residents.

  They approached a bisecting lane, and Mia encouraged the men to follow her as she took a roundabout way to cross the lane. “Don’t ever stand in the crossroad of graveyard lanes,” she warned. “You act like a beacon. I don’t want to wake anything up that shouldn’t be woken, capiche?”

  Ted and Cid nodded.

  “You must be so proud. Your wife is an expert on cemeteries,” Cid said, patting Ted on the back.

  “Mia’s amazing,” Ted said, a frown knitting between his brows. “Although, I’d wish better for her if I could. She’s had a hard life,” he reminded his friend.

  Mia, who caught the conversation, smiled to herself. She didn’t think of herself as amazing, but it was nice that her husband did. She stopped and put up her hand.

  Ted and Cid adjusted their glasses as a long green smear moved across the lane.

  Mia watched as a line of ghosts trudged towards the crematorium. She didn’t understand why, but the dead who were reduced to ashes in this particular building always returned to it before moving on. The group was a varied one. Mia tried not to stare, but she couldn’t help looking. They weren’t a happy bunch. Perhaps they didn’t enjoy the detour. She waited until the last one crossed the road before signaling for the men to follow her.

  “Ashers,” was all Mia said in explanation. “Harmless but very grumpy.”

  Ted made a mental note to ask her more about them at a later time. He watched as the green smear disappeared into the crematorium. The special glasses didn’t allow for peripheral vision. Ted had to turn his head fully to take in the landscape. He wasn’t paying attention to where he was walking and almost tripped over Mia who had stopped dead in her tracks.

  There was no mistaking the deep chill that came before the arrival of a spirit. Ted put a hand on Mia’s shoulder as he scanned the area around them. Cid had already pulled out his multi-scanner and was taking readings.

  Before Mia, a man walked out of
the darkness. His head lolled on his shoulders. For a horrifying moment, Mia thought it was the jerk from the hollow, but this man was different, stronger. His hanging wasn’t his idea. His clothing was very similar to what Mia had seen in the black and white comedy reruns of the television shows filmed in the nineteen fifties. His skin was white, but his neck held the brutal bruising mark of the noose.

  Ted’s glasses picked up the distortion, but beyond the deep cold the infrared showed, he didn’t know what they were looking at.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, sir,” Mia started and waited to see if the spirit understood her.

  The man looked down at the sensitive and at the tall men who stood behind her. He was weighing their threat to him, if any, when the girl spoke again.

  “There was a murder here last night. A man was impaled on his automobile’s windscreen wiper blades,” she explained. “I’m here to see if justice can be done.”

  “She’s not here anymore,” the man said, his voice gurgling. “She comes a lot, but she’s not here tonight.”

  “Thank you. Sir, can I help you?”

  His face turned mottled and he opened his mouth as if to yell at her, but instead, he stopped and closed his eyes.

  Mia waited while he gathered himself.

  “Justice, can you get me justice?”

  “I can try. I have connections,” Mia informed him boldly.

  This made the spirit gurgle with laughter. “Follow me,” he instructed.

  Mia looked up at Ted. “We’re going on a field trip. I think it’s important. Watch our backs.”

  Ted nodded and reached over and shook Cid who was immersed in the readings his detector was giving off. “What?”

  “Follow us and keep your head up,” Ted ordered.

  Mia caught up with the spirit and followed him to the older part of the poverty plots.

  The man stopped and pointed to a grave. Mia got down on her knees and pulled the grass away from the tiny stone marker and read off the numbers. Ted copied them down.

  “Is this your grave?” Ted asked the distortion before him.

  “Yes.”

  “He said yes,” Mia interpreted.

  “There’s no name, do you want us to put your name on a marker?” Ted asked.

  “Yes.”

  Mia nodded.

  “Vogel, Vincent Vogel.”

  Mia repeated the name to Ted who dutifully wrote it down.

  “Vincent, you mentioned that you wanted justice…”

  “Let granddaughter know truth. Granddad’s not murderer. Mistake, bad mistake.”

  “I have a friend that will research this and do her best for you,” Mia assured him. She turned to leave.

  Vogel reached out and pulled her off her feet and whispered into her ear.

  Mia could only nod as he filled her head with information.

  Ted started to pull out his bottle of holy water, but Mia waved her hand to stop him.

  It seemed to Mia like hours passed, but it was only seconds that she was in the hands of the spirit. She was drained by the time Vogel lowered her to the ground. He looked around him, seeming satisfied that no one else was about. He lowered himself below the surface to rest in his unnamed grave.

  Mia pulled herself together. She tried to speak, but her words were caught up in her emotions. She beat her chest.

  Ted caught her fist and cooed, “Slowly, breath slowly, words will come, Minnie Mouse. Teddy Bear’s here.”

  Cid watched as Mia did as instructed.

  “Vogel gave me information that is too horrifying to contemplate. I need to get out of here so I can tell you. Too many ears here. Too many spirits that mean us harm.”

  Cid moved around and shuddered. “There is a large mass of blue forming south and east of here.”

  Mia nodded. “We need to find higher ground, quick. We need to put a large mass of stone between us and this corrupted earth,” she explained.

  Ted scanned the area. Three large buildings rose above the gravestones north of them. “The crypts!” He grabbed Mia’s hand and took off running with Cid close at his heels.

  They made the crypts without incident. Ted picked up Mia and all but tossed her on the slanted roof of the largest mausoleum. Cid boosted Ted up. Ted twisted around and caught Cid’s hand and lifted the investigator off the ground and onto the roof. He scrambled up the incline and sat down next to a shivering Mia.

  Ted stood up and lowered his hand. “Give me the infrared,” he ordered.

  Cid did as requested and watched as the tall man moved around, observing the waves of deep blue cold headed their way.

  “Pumpkin, do you have an exit plan?”

  “Are we surrounded?” Mia asked.

  “Not yet, but soon.”

  “No. Let’s draw a chalk line and hope for the best. She said, handing Cid a large piece of sidewalk chalk. “I’ll go clockwise, you counter, and we’ll meet back here,” she said before scrambling carefully along the granite roof.

  Ted continued to monitor the blue masses as Cid and Mia drew and closed the circle. Inside, Mia drew out her shotgun and readied it. “I wonder if there is anyone we should call?” she asked.

  “The sheriff comes to mind,” Ted said calmly.

  “He’s not any less vulnerable than we are,” Mia said. “If we could wait it out until daylight, we stand a good chance of survival.”

  “That’s quite a few hours from now, dear.”

  “True.”

  “What did Vogel say that got the natives so riled up?” Ted asked.

  “He said that the dead were promised the homes of the living if they followed Brentwood’s - who is now Maynard, I suppose - orders. Orders that involve the stealing of women and children for sacrificial purposes,” Mia spat. “Who the fuck does this kind of thing anymore?”

  “Mia, stand up and look around you,” Ted suggested.

  Mia stood up, putting a hand on Cid’s shoulder for balance. She took in the graveyard, the hordes of spirits making their way towards the crypts, and then realized the location of the graveyard. Her stomach turned, but she managed to keep the bile down. “Ted, this effing hellhole borders the elementary school.”

  “Not only that, but the nursery school, the spa and the beauty shop,” Ted listed. This graveyard is a prime location to pick off a few innocents and hide them until… Well, I don’t want to think about that.”

  “I could lead them away from here,” Cid offered. “I’m a fast runner.”

  Mia looked down at their friend, and her eyes watered. “You dear man, you wouldn’t make it past the crossroad, but your sacrifice touches me.” She kissed him on top of his head.

  “Mia, don’t kiss the help. It isn’t seemly,” Ted said dryly.

  “Oh crap, here comes Sally,” Mia said, holding her ears. “Sally, shut the ef up!”

  Sally, dressed in her funeral finest, hovered just outside of the chalk line, puzzled why she couldn’t get any closer to the sensitive. She circled the crypt a moment and gave up.

  Mia lowered her hands and opened her mouth to pop her ears, hoping to regain her hearing. “The woman should have been an opera singer.” Mia held up her shotgun and took aim. “I could pick a few of them off, but we’d still be stuck here,” she admitted.

  “We shouldn’t have left Murphy at home,” Cid said.

  “Murphy may be strong, but there are dozens of them here,” Mia pointed out. “It’s not like he’s indestructible.”

  “He can’t die,” Cid pointed out.

  “But he will lose power, and if Ted drops an energon cube here, we’ll be up to our eyes in the undead.”

  “Good point.”

  Ted inched over and sat down. “I guess we wait.”

  “Whose idea was this anyway?” Mia asked, pulling out a few candy bars and handing them to Ted and Cid.

  “Yours, dear,” Ted said, accepting a Butterfinger.

  “Not one of my brighter ones,” Mia admitted. “You know, they may get bored. I would.”
>
  “They’ve been hanging around for eternity. They are used to being bored,” Ted said.

  Cid sighed. He bit into his candy bar and started to chew.

  Mia watched as he stopped and tilted his head. Cid’s former sight problems had forced him to develop his hearing. She knew better than to ask while he was listening. Her normal voice timbre would sound like screaming to him when he was in this mode.

  “It sounds like hoofbeats,” Cid said, standing up. “It’s coming from over there.” He pointed north.

  Ted stood up and held on to Mia as they stared off into the darkness.

  “You don’t think it’s them?” Mia asked.

  “The Lone Ranger and Tonto?” Cid asked.

  “Tonia and Lorna,” Mia corrected and quieted herself while she listened to the rhythm of hooves trotting along the pressed asphalt of the graveyard lane.

  They squinted out into the darkness as the sound drew near. Clip clop, clip clop, clip clop.

  The spirits surrounding the building turned and moved towards the sound. Mia drew in her breath sharply, getting ready to call out a warning to the spirit hunters.

  Clip clop, clip clop, clip clop.

  The being came out of the darkness and passed them, running south.

  “Wasn’t that…” Ted started.

  “Yes, Marley’s prized pig,” Mia said, disappointed.

  “Look,” Cid said. “The spirits are following it.”

  The trapped trio watched while the large, beautiful creature trotted down the lane, drawing with it Sally and the wispy, but deadly, residents of the granite and marble set. They followed the pig, seemingly entranced by the creature. It wasn’t every night one saw a prize hog trotting through the graveyard.

  “PSST!” a female voice hissed.

  Mia spun around to look at the back end of the mausoleum roof. There held up by two strong hands was the upper half of Tonia Toh’s body.

  “Come with me if you want to live,” she said before she let go and dropped down.

  Ted, Cid and Mia scrambled after her. They followed Tonia through a maze of headstones to where Lorna sat in an old fashioned buckboard wagon, holding the reins of the two Arabian horses.

  Mia knew better than to vocalize her questions. Tonia used her silent communication talent to shout instructions into their minds instead, “Get in, arm yourselves and hold on for dear life!”