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Haunted Canada

Page 2

by Pat Hancock


  “And those coulees can be pretty confusing. You could get turned around and never find your way out,” her father had added.

  Finally, though, they’d agreed. But only after Ashley had assured them that Sam never forgot the way back, and that she’d take extra food and water and a compass, just in case she got lost.

  The sun was high overhead by the time Ashley and Sam reached the edge of the badlands. The grass had steadily grown patchier, and they’d spent the last ten minutes picking their way carefully across a couple of the barren coulees that had been gouged into the prairie landscape by retreating glaciers.

  It was hot and Sam needed a rest. So did Ashley’s rear end. A grove of spindly aspens clinging to the bank of an ancient, nearly dry creek offered the promise of a little shade and a drink for Sam.

  Ashley tethered her horse so he could reach the trickle of water in the creek, took a sandwich out of her saddlebag, and sat down in the thin shade of one of the trees. Chewing slowly, she let her mind wander, imagining all sorts of exciting adventures that she and Sam might have out here in this weird, stark landscape.

  Sam noticed the change in the weather first. His neighing snapped her out of her daydreams. She looked up. Sam was tossing his head to the right, then looking back at her. Off in the distance Ashley saw what was worrying him. Thick black clouds were rolling in from the west and the fragile aspens were starting to sway in a strengthening breeze.

  Ashley scrambled up, brushed herself off, and moved toward her horse.

  “Good boy,” she murmured, rubbing his velvety muzzle affectionately. Then she dug her jacket out of the saddlebag. “Just in case the weather changes,” her mother would say whenever she checked to see if Ashley had it with her. The wind is really picking up, Ashley thought as she zipped it up. Seconds later, the sun disappeared behind the clouds and she heard the first distant rumble of thunder. A flash of sheet lightning followed.

  Ashley scanned the threatening sky and made a face. There was no avoiding a good soaking — unless she could find shelter. Going farther west wasn’t an option. She’d just be heading straight into the storm — and deeper into the badlands. Not much shelter there. Besides, she wanted to go home.

  First, though, she had to get away from the trees. Whipped by fierce gusts of wind, they looked like they were about to snap and come crashing down. They also made perfect lightning rods.

  She swung up onto Sam, checked her compass and nudged him back in the direction they’d come.

  Sam maintained a steady pace, never faltering even when a blinding fork of lightning cut a jagged path to earth just ahead. Soon after, the first huge drops of rain splattered Ashley’s jacket.

  Ashley crammed her hat more tightly onto her head and hunkered down into her jacket. This didn’t stop cold trickles of water from finding their way down her neck to her T-shirt.

  She tried to guide Sam in the right direction but, eventually, she gave up. The rain had become so heavy that it was impossible to see more than a few metres ahead.

  She’d have to trust Sam and simply hope that the two of them would stumble on help. She bent lower, hugged the horse’s neck, and gave him his head.

  Sam was picking his way slowly along what seemed to be the rocky bottom of a shallow coulee when Ashley thought she spotted something. She peered through the rain and waited for the next lightning flash to make sure. There it was again, off to the left — the outline of a shed or shack.

  “Come on, buddy,” Ashley urged, reaching forward to pat Sam’s neck. If anything, though, the horse began to slow down. Ashley dug in her heels and Sam kept going, but barely. As they neared the small building, he came to a dead stop. He wouldn’t go any closer.

  The rain eased a little, enough so that Ashley could make out more than an outline. Not much more, though, because there wasn’t much more to see. Only two walls of what looked like a small house remained standing. Two walls and a chimney. The rest was a shell. Its charred, wet remains glistened in the murky light of the storm.

  “No shelter here, Sam,” Ashley said. “Let’s get a move on.”

  Then she saw her, right in front of the burned-out cabin. She was tall and thin, and she seemed to be waving. Ashley rubbed the rain from her eyes and looked again. She was still there.

  What’s this girl doing way out here by herself? Ashley asked herself. Maybe she needs help, too. She kneed Sam forward, but the horse wouldn’t budge.

  It took some serious urging to get Sam moving. And then, when they got closer, he nearly bolted.

  “Easy, boy, easy,” Ashley soothed, grasping the reins firmly.

  Now that she was close to the girl, she was glad that she’d decided to try to help. She looked about Ashley’s age and she was eerily pale. Her long, dark hair was plastered against her cheeks, and her clothes — a yellow shirt and jeans — were dripping wet. But it was her eyes that made the most impact. Even in the poor light, Ashley could see that they were golden.

  She’d never met anyone with golden eyes before. What’s more, when the girl looked at her, Ashley felt as if those eyes could see right through her.

  “Are you okay?” Ashley began nervously. She couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  The stranger nodded and reached out.

  “You want a ride?”

  Again, she nodded.

  Her response was accompanied by another rumble of thunder, farther away this time. Still, she reacted with a jolt, her eyes filling with fear.

  “Okay, hop on,” Ashley said, holding out her hand. The thin girl grabbed it and Ashley pulled her up behind. She didn’t have to worry about Sam handling the extra weight. The girl was amazingly light, wet clothes and all. Still, Ashley thought she felt Sam tremble a little as she settled in.

  Now what? she thought. I’m not sure how to get out of here and, if she knows, she’s not saying.

  As if reading Ashley’s mind, the girl tapped her arm and pointed to the right. Squinting through the rain, Ashley thought she could make out a narrow track winding upwards out of the coulee.

  “You want me to go that way?”

  She felt the bent head nod against her shoulder.

  “Okay, you don’t have to talk, but I’m Ashley Robbins. Just so you know. Hold on.”

  Sam needed little prompting this time, moving toward the track as soon as Ashley flicked the reins.

  Gradually, the rain wound down to a fine drizzle until, finally, it stopped altogether. Then the setting sun broke through the clouds behind them, casting a fiery glow on the drenched countryside.

  “Red sky at night, sailor’s delight,” Ashley said, feeling a little foolish as she tried once more to make conversation. “At least I know now we’re heading east. I live east of here. Is that where you live, too?” Again, all she felt was a slight nod against her shoulder. That, and the soft breathing on the back of her neck. That was no comfort. If anything, it sent shivers down her spine.

  Now that she was starting to dry off a little, Ashley realized it was the strange girl’s breath, not the evening air, that was chillingly cold. The realization sent a wave of goosebumps spreading across Ashley’s damp shoulders and down her back.

  She resisted the urge to turn up the collar of her jacket. She didn’t want to upset her mysterious passenger. The whole situation was weird enough already. All she wanted was to get to the girl’s house — or wherever they were going — and call home.

  Home. Just the thought of it warmed Ashley up a little. Home, and fried eggs and bacon and hash browns. Home, and a soft bed and a cozy quilt. Home, home. Home, home. Her head began to bob in time to the rhythm of Sam’s hooves. The last thing she remembered before dozing off was a thin, cold hand moving over hers to grab the reins as they slipped from her grasp.

  Later, much later, she awoke to the crunching of gravel and the on-off flashing of a spinning red light. Sam was standing quietly on the shoulder of a paved road and, incredibly, Ashley was still in the saddle.

  “Is that you, Ashley?�
� a voice called. She turned toward it, but was blinded by the headlights of a car. Two strong, warm hands reached up to help her out of the saddle.

  “Officer Kovalski,” she whispered hoarsely, as her eyes adjusted to the light. “Boy, am I glad to see you.”

  “Me too, but now we’ve got to get you home,” Kovalski said. “This is Cal’s place. Tether your horse to his gate. I’ll call and get him to put it in the barn for the night. Your folks can bring the trailer and pick it up in the morning.”

  “My folks!” Ashley was suddenly frantic. “I have to call them.”

  “Take it easy, girl,” Kovalski gave Sam’s reins a tug to make sure she had tied them securely to the fence. “I’ll radio in and the dispatcher will call them. They’re pretty worried. That freak storm caused a slew of flash floods out in the badlands — and they told us that’s where you were headed. The sergeant and Bill are out there now in the four-by-four looking for you.”

  “Sorry,” Ashley mumbled. “I didn’t know a storm could come up that fast.”

  “No harm done,” Kovalski said as he opened the door and guided her into the passenger seat of the cruiser.

  “Wait!” Ashley suddenly remembered the girl. “Where is she?”

  “Who?”

  “The girl that was riding with me — the one who showed me the way back.”

  “No girl around when I found you,” Kovalski said, slamming the door.

  “Then you’ll have to look for her, too,” Ashley said. “What if she slipped off after I fell asleep? I can’t believe I did that. I just couldn’t keep my eyes open.”

  “There was no sign of any girl, and we’ve had no missing-person reports — other than you, of course,” Kovalski said as he slipped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “No harm, though, in taking a drive down the road to see what we can find. What did she look like?”

  “Well, she was about my age, maybe a little younger. And she had long brown hair and golden eyes.”

  Kovalski stiffened and turned to stare at Ashley. “Golden eyes? What else?”

  “Well, she was really skinny and she was wearing a yellow top and jeans. And she was just standing there in the pouring rain in the middle of nowhere. Well, sort of in the middle of nowhere. There was an old cabin, but it looked like it had burned down. All that was left was a chimney and parts of a couple of walls. Why? Do you know her?”

  Kovalski looked puzzled, “About your age, right? You’re sure?”

  “Maybe a little younger. Why?” Ashley repeated.

  “Oh, the golden eyes …” Kovalski hesitated. “Reminded me of Sarah Jackson. But that’s an old case. Happened at least ten years ago. She’d be in her twenties by now — if she survived — so it couldn’t have been her. The eyes threw me for a minute. I’d never heard of anyone with golden eyes before Sarah — and, come to think of it, I haven’t since.”

  “What happened?” Ashley was almost afraid to ask.

  “She disappeared. Took off into the badlands one day. In fact, there was a flash flood that day, too. After it was over, we searched — but never found any trace of her. These sudden floods can be pretty vicious, the way they come barrelling down the coulees without any warning. We figure she got swept away. Her bones are probably still out there somewhere.”

  Ashley’s stomach tightened. She sat quietly as they drove, scarcely breathing as the meaning of Kovalski’s words sank in.

  “Her parents moved to High River after that,” Kovalski continued. “Ended up leaving their place empty. Nobody was interested in buying it. Pretty unfriendly country there, right on the edge of the badlands. It burned down a few years later.”

  Kovalski looked at Ashley and shrugged. “End of story.”

  He reached for the radio and clicked the microphone. “I better call the Sarge and Bill. They’ve been out there for hours.”

  As the radio crackled to life, Ashley sat stunned, shivering despite the warm air blasting out of the heater.

  “Listen, Bill, I’ve got the Robbins kid. Found her safe and sound on the road by Cal’s place.”

  “That’s good news. Sarge and I will go on in then.”

  “Catch you back at the station. How’s it looking out there, anyway? Much damage?”

  “Nah,” Ashley heard Bill respond through the static. “Near as we can tell the only damage was to the ruins of the old Jackson property. And that’s no great loss. Looks like the flood swept right through the place and took out everything in its path. There isn’t a bush or tree in sight and the ruins are gone. Totally. Good thing the Robbins kid wasn’t out here, after all, or she’d be gone, too.”

  GAME BOY

  Steve Filmore ate, drank, slept and lived video games. He spent every spare second with his new system, the DRX7. So it came as no surprise when his math test came back with a big red 43 at the top.

  The night before, when he was supposed to be studying, Steve decided to try just one game. One game led to another … and another … and, suddenly, it was time for bed. The evening had disappeared, swallowed up by the electronic monster.

  Now what? he wondered, as he crossed the schoolyard. Mr. Harper had kept him in for “a little chat” about his test result, so the playground was nearly empty. Just as well, too. Steve was in no mood to talk to anybody.

  He headed out to the lone tree at the edge of the baseball diamond and flopped down against the trunk. Lately, he’d been hiding out there a lot. It was a great place for playing video games. No one bugged him.

  Steve reached into his backpack and dug under his math book to find his DRX7. Within minutes, he was lost in the video game’s universe. An entire baseball team could have thundered past and he wouldn’t have noticed.

  So when the voice broke his concentration, he nearly jumped out of his skin. He hadn’t heard anyone coming.

  Steve stared at the boy who was crouched beside him looking intently at the small screen. He was definitely a kid, yet his face had the wizened, wrinkled look of an old man.

  “What did you say?” Steve asked, tearing his eyes away from the strange-looking face.

  “I said, do you have to jump on all those guys?”

  “Oh yeah. You have to. You get more points.”

  “Is it hard?”

  “Uh, not once you get the hang of it. After that, the more you play, the better you get.”

  “I get it. Like math,” the boy said, pointing to the textbook.

  Steve stared again. This kid doesn’t just look old, he thinks old, too, he thought. He must be the only kid on earth who thinks video games are like math.

  “No way,” Steve said aloud. “This is nothing like math. This is fun.”

  “I always thought math was fun.”

  “You’re nuts. It sucks.”

  As Steve spoke, he shut down the game and opened up Tetris.

  “What’s your name?” he asked as he began to play again.

  “Ben.”

  “Ben who?”

  “Ben Farber. What’s yours?”

  “Stephen Filmore. But call me Steve. Only my mom calls me Stephen.”

  “I know what you mean. Mine used to call me Benjamin.”

  “But she doesn’t anymore? How’d you get her to stop?”

  “Um … she just stopped, that’s all. You know, you’re really lucky to have a game like this. It looks amazing.”

  “It is. I don’t remember seeing you around here before. Are you new?”

  “No. I’ve seen you before, though.”

  “Oh, but you don’t go to this school, right?”

  “No, I don’t go to this school.”

  Steve was really concentrating now. The shapes were falling fast and he had to slot them into place quickly. He didn’t hear what Ben said next.

  “Sorry. What did you say?”

  “I asked if you’d let me have a turn sometime,” Ben said shyly.

  Steve glanced at his watch.

  “Oops,” he said. “Not today, that’s for sure. I’ve got
to get home.” He shut down the game and began to pack up. “Besides, in another week, I probably won’t be playing it myself.”

  “What do you mean?” Ben asked.

  “Well, Mr. Harper — my math teacher — says he’ll tell my folks if I flunk another test.”

  “But what does that have to do with your game?”

  “Are you kidding? If my mom and dad find out I’m flunking tests, they’ll take it away. They said they would, and they meant it.”

  “Oh.” Ben frowned, then his face brightened. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Suppose you pass your next test …”

  “Get serious.”

  “Well, just suppose you do. Then you’d have your game for a while longer at least, right?”

  “Yeah. Until I flunk the test after that, anyway.”

  “But you won’t flunk another test. Not if you practise. Math is just like playing video games, really. Once you get the hang of it, you just have to practise to get better. I was pretty good at math. What grade are you in?”

  “Six.”

  “That’s good. I got past that,” Ben said.

  I would hope so, Steve thought. He looks old enough to be a professor or something. Just really small for his age.

  Ben continued, “When’s your next test?”

  “Monday.”

  “Okay. How about this? I help you with your math for the rest of the week. If you do better on the next test, you let me use your game for just one night. What do you think?”

  “A whole night?” Steve couldn’t imagine lending it out for more than five minutes.

  “Well, if you don’t do well, you might lose it forever. And I would really love to play some of those games, especially that last one. They weren’t around when I … I mean, where I lived.”

  “No way. Where were you? On the moon or something?”

  “Something like that. Now, what do you say? Is it a deal?”

  Steve hesitated, then shrugged. “Okay. What do we do? You wanna come to my house or do you want me to go to yours?”

  “Oh …” Ben seemed confused. “How about we meet right here after school every day? Behind this tree? You’re the only one who ever comes here, and …”

 

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