“It’s the log where Elizabeth’s nightgown was found.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Becca said as she got to her feet and brushed her hands off on the seat of her jeans. “It’s not the same one.”
Liz laughed. “That log would’ve rotted away three times over by now.”
“But it’s got the branch sticking up and everything.”
“More likely, Ted and Johnny have been up here before and figured this log would make a good prop for their story,” Becca rationalized. “It adds believable detail.”
“Should we show her it’s all in their imaginations, Bec?” Liz gestured with her head toward the sunlit log.
Becca hesitated.
“You said you don’t believe in ghosts,” Liz reminded.
“I don’t. You’re right, let’s go.” Becca followed Liz. “Come on, Megan.”
Megan mutely shook her head and remained where she was.
Arms outstretched for balance, Liz stepped up onto the log and headed for the middle of the river. Right past the log the rapids began again. Mere yards after that, an eerie mist rose in the air, and the distant roar of water crashing on boulders below confirmed the steep waterfall Johnny had described.
Becca lifted her foot and placed her hiking boot on the log.
“The danger lies in not believing.”
Shane’s voice echoed so forcefully in her mind, she swung her head around to see if he was somehow standing behind her.
No. Just her imagination playing tricks on her.
Determined to prove once and for all the whole thing was nothing more than a silly fable, she joined Liz out on the log. It’s wide girth had been bleached by the sun, but it was rock solid beneath her boots. In the middle of the river, warmth and peacefulness settled over her. Quiet. The scenery unrivaled.
“How cool is that,” she murmured. “The surface is like glass, but the weeds sway back and forth with the current underneath. It’s beautiful.”
“Say her name,” Liz urged. “Like you did last night.”
Caught up in the moment, Becca softly chanted, “Alianna, Alianna, A–li–aan–na.”
“Stop goofing around, you two,” Megan called from shore. “That guy drowned here just a few years ago. That was real.”
The air shifted. A cool breeze blew against her cheeks and lifted her hair off her shoulders. Becca blinked and suddenly, beneath the surface of the still water, a vague vision appeared. She stared, completely spellbound. The undulating weeds on the riverbed below blurred and rippled the apparition.
“Do you see it?”
Liz’s voice. Soft. Coaxing. Mesmerizing.
In Becca’s next breath a face appeared—a face that looked just like hers. Caught in a silent cry for help.
Shock made her jerk back with a frightened gasp. Adrenaline surged as she lost her balance. Struggling for purchase, she found none on the log that was now wet and slippery with slime. Feeling herself tilting backward, she flailed for something to grab. Liz’s hand was just out of reach as she plunged into the frigid mountain water.
Megan’s scream echoed when Becca broke the surface, gasping for air. The current tore at her clothes, pulling backward. Into the rapids. Toward the waterfall. She flipped over and turned herself around to face Liz, reaching for her friend’s outstretched arm.
Another inch.
She fought the current with every ounce of strength she could summon and her fingertips finally brushed Liz’s.
Wait, no, one more inch.
Again she struggled and managed to breach the distance despite the icy water assaulting her body. She nearly sobbed with relief when she made contact a second time.
Only Liz’s life saving grip remained elusive. Becca cast her frantic gaze from Liz’s hand to her face—and time froze.
Liz smiled. Slowly. Triumphantly.
“Dear Becca, when will you learn? No one takes what’s mine. Not now. Not then. Not ever.”
Her blue eyes lit with an unholy light. The current strengthened. Water closed over Becca’s head, filling her mouth. She broke the surface once more, but despite her best efforts, the rapids dragged her downriver. The sound of the waterfall magnified, drowning out Megan’s cries. Liz joined her, appearing frantic as Becca was swept over the edge.
She was weightless. Falling. A brief moment of blessed peace ... then her heart seized in her chest from the unsustainable effort it’d expended, zapping her entire being with a breath–stealing jolt of pain.
Her last thought was of Shane before the world went black.
∼ ∼ ∼
Numb.
She felt nothing. No fear. No pain. Nothing.
“Becca.”
Shane’s husky voice brought the world rushing back with dizzying speed. She gasped for air only to choke on the water filling her lungs. He steadied her when she rolled over to vomit.
“It’s okay.” His large palm rubbed in comforting circles on her back. “I’m with you now.”
“Thank you,” she managed a moment later. “You saved my life.”
He didn’t respond, appearing uncomfortable with her gratitude. After a few more moments, she felt strong enough to sit up. Shane watched, concern lighting his green eyes.
“It’s true,” she told him. “The Ghost of Still Waters is real.”
“I know.”
“And Liz ... oh my God, Liz. She tricked me into summoning Alianna’s ghost and then just let me go over the edge.”
Becca looked around and realized they were on the riverbank beneath the waterfall. She gazed at the distance she’d fallen. Moving each arm and leg in turn, she was amazed she hadn’t broken anything.
“Thank God you were here to pull me out. How’d you know?”
“You called to me.”
Had she? She vaguely remembered his name in her mind before she lost consciousness. The events before she went over the waterfall flashed before her eyes, only this time she watched as if having an out–of–body experience. Liz appeared as desperate to reach her as she’d been to be saved. But Becca didn’t believe what she saw now. She believed what she’d lived. Liz had deliberately kept her hand out of reach.
Anger propelled Becca to her feet. She swayed, her legs rubbery and unsteady. Shane assisted until she was steady. Then she pushed free and set out in the direction of the trail, her hiking boots squishing with each sodden, determined step she took.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to catch up with them. Megan’s probably worried sick and—”
“Becca, wait.”
“No. I’m not going to let Liz get away with what she did.”
But she didn’t catch up to Megan and Liz. Time blurred. The fall must’ve done more than she thought, because she swore she blacked out more than once.
Next thing she knew, she stood in the cemetery where they’d buried her grandmother last spring. Shane must’ve followed, because he stood at her side, wearing the same clothes, both of them dry. She was dreaming, that’s what was happening. There stood her family, her dad and Annie supporting Mom as she sobbed with a wad of tissues pressed to her mouth.
Lit by a single ray of sunshine through the leaden clouds above, the black–robed priest intoned his final solemn prayer.
As the casket was lowered into the ground, Becca heard a quiet voice.
“Poor Liz.”
What? Liz hadn’t been at her grandmother’s funeral. Becca turned to see Megan, Joanne, Marie, Lori, Margaret and the rest of the sorority gathered together. Liz stood a short distance from the group, Ted’s arm around her for support as she cried against his chest. Johnny comforted Megan, his hands on her shoulders.
“She did everything she could to save her,” Megan told Joanne in a tear–choked voice.
Like hell, Becca thought, narrowing her gaze on poor Liz. Even in false mourning she was exquisite, but she was a consummate actress, playing everyone now as she’d played Becca on the camping trip.
“I still can’t be
lieve Liz went back again,” Marie said. “She was along when her boyfriend drowned up there freshman year. This has got to be like seriously bad déjà vu.”
Megan’s surprised gaze swung to Marie the same time Becca’s did. “Her boyfriend?”
Exactly Becca’s thought. Liz had been the first to say she hadn’t heard of the previous drowning. Then again, nothing should surprise her at this point.
“Well, ex–boyfriend I guess—rumor was Liz and Shane broke up before their camping trip. He wanted to get back together with his high school girlfriend, but she was determined not to let him go.”
“But …”
As Megan trailed off, one word registered in Becca’s stunned mind.
Shane.
She slowly turned to look at him and he gave her a sad smile.
More details registered. The conversation—it had nothing to do with her grandmother. Becca’s gaze shifted, taking in the faces around her. The girls from the sorority; some other college students she’d met her first couple weeks of classes.
The world began to spin.
Former high school classmates and teachers stood on the other side of the burial plot, along with her old boss from the golf course where she’d caddied each summer since she was sixteen.
None of them had been at her grandmother’s funeral.
Becca whipped around, her focus narrowing to three people with growing cold realization. Her mother had been sad when Grandma passed, not inconsolable. Dad looked broken, at least ten years older, and no amount of makeup could conceal her older sister, Annie’s, red, puffy eyes.
She forced her feet to carry her closer. Off to the side of the dark hole sat a white marble headstone, waiting to be placed once the casket was covered. She was afraid to see the name.
“I’m here if you need me.”
Shane again. Becca reached back her hand without looking. His fingers gripped hers, warm and reassuring. She swallowed hard and read the words carved in the gravestone.
Rebecca LeAnna Grant.
Her breath caught on a gasp and Shane’s arms wrapped around her from behind.
“So you …”
“Yes.”
“And I’m …”
“Yes.”
Dead.
Death didn’t feel like she’d thought it would, not with Shane at her side. His calm presence soothed away her initial fear. That connection she’d felt at the campfire had returned tenfold.
In the blink of an eye they stood in front of another gravestone. This one black, with a different name etched in the granite.
Shane James Peterson.
Memories flooded back from her first life. The first time Elizabeth had plotted to kill her. Becca let it all soak in, held in the security of Shane’s embrace.
“Why did she kill you? Back then, I mean. If you were under her spell …”
“Her worst fear came true. Her spell weakened and I broke free. When I searched for you and learned what’d happened, she couldn’t let me live to tell the tale.”
“And the others? The men who’d persecuted me—why drown them?”
“To foster belief in your vengeful spirit. Now she uses your name to summon the vision and strengthen the legend. It’s how she keeps us apart.”
Becca turned in his arms, seeing her beloved’s face once more. She raised on her tiptoes and lifted her chin, inviting his kiss. Yet even as she reveled in the warmth of his lips on hers, grief caused her heart to ache for all the years and love they’d lost. For the loss her family endured now.
She pulled back and met his green gaze through the sheen of tears in hers. “The other night, in the tent, you said this was the closest we’ve ever come to being together. Have we done this before?”
“Yes.”
“More than once?”
“This is our third reincarnation.”
Becca absorbed that information and wondered if they’d ever have the life they were meant to have together. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen when you—”
“Don’t,” he commanded. “She holds all the blame here, not you or me.”
She turned once more and scanned the cemetery until her gaze located the person she sought. “Can we ever beat her?”
Shane’s arms crossed over her ribs and he cradled her against his chest, his chin on her shoulder. “We can and we will. Next time will be different.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I believe. As you must. The true danger lies—”
“In not believing,” Becca finished. A lesson she’d learned too late. Next time—
The ray of sunshine shifted toward them, its light growing brighter ... and brighter ... and brighter ...
∼ ∼ ∼
Watch for ...
Rising Above
(Part II of Beneath Still Waters)
Imagine you’ve lived before, but don’t remember or believe it’s even possible. Therein lies the danger. For in not believing and learning from your pasts, the power shifts to the one who would see you dead. Again.
About Stacey
Stacey Joy Netzel fell in love with books at a young age, so for her the graduation to writing them was natural. An avid reader and fan of movies with a happily ever after, she lives in her native Wisconsin with her husband and three children, a couple horses and some barn cats. She writes romance and romantic suspense, with a paranormal tossed in every so often just to mix things up. You can find out more about Stacey at her BLOG. You can follow her on Facebook and Twitter.
Table of Contents
Unnamed
Acknowledgments
Table of Contents
Foreward
WAMPUS CAT
About Scott
THE CONSUMING
About Rhonda
ADDICTION
About Marty
THE MESSENGER
About Cate
JADE O’REILLY AND THE GRAVEYARD SHIFT
About Tamara
IN A BEGINNING
About Meredith
HASTE
About Catie
KING OF RATS
About Greg
TO E.A. POE
About Mitzi
AN INCONVENIENT DEBT
About Natalie
DEAD LILY BLOOMS
About *lizzie
BENEATH STILL WATERS
About Stacey
Tales From The Mist: An Anthology of Horror and Paranormal Stories Page 25