by Anthea Sharp
I listened as intently as I possibly could. “No. Nothing.” Some night bird was singing, but that was all.
We sat on the ground, Brandon in his ethereal form and me in my more substantial form. After about fifteen minutes of gazing out over the lake, studying every ripple and small disturbance to see if our ghost would make an appearance, I lay down and Brandon did the same. We looked up at the blank slate of the black sky.
I asked Brandon how his program for contacting humans through technology worked.
He said, “It’s just another kind of haunting. I mean, why not? It seems efficient. Living people love spending time in their technology…”
I thought about Brandon and Angry Birds. I nudged him with my elbow, sensing nothing there. I wondered if he felt it. “Not just living people…”
He laughed. “Well, yeah…But, anyway, now that living people spend so much time in technological reality, it’s a good place to contact them. It turns out that tech reality is an especially great place to communicate with the living. It works like a bridge from concrete reality to spirit reality. It’s kind of an in-between place.”
After an entire hour waiting for the ghost to reach out to me, we gave up. Brandon said, “I’m new at this. I think maybe I have to guide you to this particular ghost inside the VR equipment. Can you get onto the equipment after class or something?”
It took an entire week for me to find a good time to ask him, but I finally managed to get permission from Dr. Webb to use the VR equipment after class. He was quite pleased that I wanted to spend extra time practicing. “That shows initiative, Shade. Good for you.”
Then he said something that made me nervous. He asked if I’d experienced technical difficulties with my equipment during the exact same class in which Brandon had contacted me. Dr. Webb suggested moving me to a different set of equipment. I panicked. I wasn’t sure that Brandon would find me there. I finally convinced Dr. Webb that there was only a minor glitch and everything had been fine since then. “I noticed afterwards that I hadn’t attached the wires well enough. Some were loose.”
He said, “Ahhh, of course. They all have to be attached correctly.” Running his hand through his hair, he added, “When you enter the room, you’ll find a large button right next to the door, inside a clear plastic box on the wall. That works like the remote I use. Press it to turn on the equipment.”
The night I showed up to practice on my own, I was relieved to find two other students there. I wasn’t sure how creepy the situation would be for this particular ghost. Although I couldn’t tell anyone else what I was doing, I didn’t want to be alone.
The rectangles were already glowing blue. I stepped into mine. The iridescent bag dangled off to the side. I put on my equipment and threw my sneakers into the bag. Wearing the black leather vest, gloves, kneepads and boots always made me feel stronger and cooler than I ever felt without them. I felt ready to conquer the world.
I attached the wires, placed my helmet over my head and pressed the button on my left shoulder.
Elizabeth greeted me. Welcome, Shade. Do you wish to continue the game you were playing?
That was a great question. I guessed the default of the VR setup returned you to your previous game. I decided that was probably best, since Brandon had already found me there. “Yes.”
The screen in front of me glittered and sparkled. In dark blue script, the word Crystal appeared one letter at a time. As soon as the screen came up that allowed me to select levels, I raised my finger to touch the Level 4 button.
I entered the tunnel. Immediately, I heard the most heart-wrenching sobs. Rats scuttled over the subway tracks. Glowing eyes peered at me from the darkness. The crying sounded like it was coming from somewhere deep inside the tunnel. I dreaded going further.
All of a sudden, that scene was replaced by a trailer in the middle of an empty desert field. The yard was nothing but dirt—no plants or trees—and littered with rocks. A window on the side of the trailer facing us was covered with torn plastic that flapped in the desert breeze. Out in the front yard, a mangy dog pulled at the chain that tied him to a metal pole and growled.
A man came out of the building. Marching over to the dog, he kicked it with his beat-up cowboy boots. “Shut up, Ace!” Growling himself with a terrible grimace, the guy revealed missing teeth. His skin was incredibly weathered, wrinkles making lines down his cheeks.
The dog whimpered and settled down.
What was I supposed to do? Go into the trailer? Snoop around outside or inside?
Brandon suddenly appeared right next to my avatar. “Hey, Shade. You made it. I think the ghost’s supposed to reveal things to you about how she died, inside this virtual space. I’m not sure, but I don’t think anyone here can see us.”
“Can the dog see us?”
“Good question. I have no idea. He may sense our presence. Don’t know if he can see us.”
Sure enough, as soon as we walked by the dog, it started growling and pulling on its chains. It strained against its collar, pointing its head in our general direction.
The man came charging back out of the trailer. My heart jumped. It felt like it was going to burst right through my chest. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
The guy pulled on the chain, choking the dog until it wheezed. Shading his eyes with his hand, he scanned the environment. “What in the world are you barkin’ at? Shut yer yap or I’ll shut it fer ya!” In the blink of an eye, he pulled a gun out of somewhere.
Bang!
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
Brandon said, “OK. He can’t see us and he didn’t shoot the dog. That was just a warning shot. Let’s go.”
We ran over to the trailer. As fast as we could, we climbed a couple of wobbly steps to get inside.
The place was disgusting. The smell of dirty dishes piled up in the sink stank something horrible. I fought the urge to throw up.
In a back bedroom, we found a little girl about three years old. She was wearing a dirty pink dress and one yellow sock. Lace on her skirt was ripped and stained. Her hair was wild; her mouth covered in old, crusty food.
She looked directly at us with the most incredibly sad eyes I’d ever seen. They were blue and dulled by misery and neglect.
Pointing at us with a tiny finger, she said, “Ghostses! Ghostses!”
The door to the trailer slammed shut. A curtain was pulled to the side.
I went weak with fear, but the guy still couldn’t see us.
He scooped the girl up in his arms. “What are you jabbering about, Angela?”
I felt tears streaming down my face. She was Angela. Is she now Angel, a tiny angel in the afterlife?
As she was carried out of the room over the guy’s shoulder, the baby girl pointed at us once again. “Ghostses…”
The guy sighed. “Shut up right now. What does it take ta get some peace and quiet around here?”
Brandon and I followed them outside. Opening the passenger door of a battered pickup truck, the guy plopped Angela onto the front seat and restrained her with a seat belt. No car seat or anything, despite her age and tiny size, just a seatbelt.
We hopped into the back.
Let me tell you, the next two hours were harrowing. I no longer thought about it as being inside a game. This was no game. This was exactly like all my other encounters with ghosts whose untimely deaths needed to come to light before they could move on into the afterlife.
We watched Angela being left off at her uncle’s house to be babysat. Her uncle was fifteen years old and drunk. From there, Angela wandered outside.
I recognized the place. Kind of. Something looked familiar.
Brandon said, “This is your summer school’s grounds, before Ocean View purchased the property.”
We watched Angela toddle off. Eventually, she discovered the pond. Fascinated by tiny fish flitting about, she reached inside their world. And slipped and fell until she joined them.
I argued with Brandon for quite
some time about how exactly I would report this. If Angela was like all the other ghosts I’d ever been called upon to help, the people responsible for her death would need to be brought to justice. That had to happen before her troubles on Earth could be resolved enough for her to move on into the afterlife.
Brandon finally convinced me. “You’re a ghost whisperer. Ghost whisperer. You’re at a special school for your ghost whispering abilities. They already know about your work in the past. C’mon, just go and be their star student.”
I hated being a star. Completely hated the notoriety and attention. But this wasn’t about me. It was about Angela and her need for justice.
Part of me resented when Brandon was right, although I was certainly glad that things worked out. Dr. Webb believed me immediately, which shocked me no end. I wasn’t used to that. He had contacts at the police station and just picked up the phone and called them. Dr. Webb told me that the local police considered the summer camp a resource for future psychics who could help them solve crimes. They’d had help from a couple of students before. One had solved a major crime that had baffled them for years.
Early the next morning, the police came out to our school. They hammered stakes into the ground, completely encircling the pond, and stretched yellow crime scene tape around them. Then the pond was dredged. Several feet under the soft brown muck at the bottom, they found Angela’s bones.
Her discovery made local news, both TV and newspapers. I had begged Dr. Webb to withhold my name. Although he was surprised I didn’t want the credit, he agreed.
A few nights after Angela’s bones were taken away, I worked up the courage to go back to the pond.
The moon was full. Stars glittered against a black sky.
As I sat on the ground next to the mucky hole where the pond and Angela’s body had been, Brandon appeared on the opposite side holding the little girl.
Floating over to me, he handed the tiny ghost to me. She was much like Brandon now, a baby girl made of fog. Her blue eyes were bright and twinkly and she had the sweetest smile.
Wrapping her arms around my neck, she said, “Ghostie! I get to see angels soon…”
Reaching over to take her back, Brandon said, “Thank you. We’ll work together again, I promise.”
And, with that, they were gone.
With a mixture of the deepest sadness along with hope for the future, I walked slowly back to my dorm. Although I’d had a few weeks of carefree fun at summer camp, I knew deep in my heart what the future really held for me. It held responsibility. My gifts would always require sacrificing fun for my duty to others. In many ways, I had become an adult before my freshman year of college had even started.
Although Shade and the Secrets of Summer Camp takes place between the second and third books in Marilyn Peake’s YA Paranormal Mystery series, it can be read as a standalone story and an introduction to the series. Join the Ghost Whisperer Shade in all her escapades, starting with Shade, Book #1 in Marilyn Peake’s YA Paranormal Mystery series. It’s free on Prolific Works and only $0.99 everywhere else:
Prolific Works - https://claims.prolificworks.com/free/CH0Sm
Other links: https://www.marilynpeake.com/shade
About the Author: USA TODAY and WALL STREET JOURNAL bestselling author Marilyn Peake writes in a variety of Science Fiction and Fantasy sub-genres. She’s one of the contributing authors in Book: The Sequel, published by The Perseus Books Group, with one of her entries included in serialization at The Daily Beast. In addition, Marilyn has served as Editor for a number of anthologies. Her short stories have been published in numerous anthologies and on the literary blog, Glass Cases.
Website: http://www.marilynpeake.com
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Real Challenge: A Spark Jaxley Story - Anthea Sharp
The giant would have been silly, if he wasn’t so terrifying.
A tiny green hat perched jauntily on his sparsely-haired head, his pasty skin glowing pale beneath. His red eyes bulged over a crooked nose and cracked-tooth grimace. And his wickedly sharp axe was stained with blood. Some developer had made sure to take every kid’s nursery rhyme and turn it into nightmare.
When she’d started playing Giant Killer, Spark Jaxley had expected something fluffier. Now she was stuck in solo mode and facing up against the final boss—this giant who’d already smashed her character into a pulp two times now.
She should have read the ‘dits on the brand new game before diving in—but it was too late now. Who knew the developers would make a solo win basically impossible? Not every gamer could party up with friends, after all.
“Grind your bones,” the giant said, the rumble of his voice shaking the tabletop. “I smell you, little human.”
Spark adjusted her grip on her glowing blue sword and peered around the salt shaker she was using for cover. The grains were the size of rocks, the transparent shaker twice as high as her head. Being teeny-tiny was a serious disadvantage, but one that every player in this fight had to deal with, solo or not.
She’d specced her character all wrong for this encounter, though. Sword Mage was a great damage-doing class, but she should have built a tank. DPS and speed had, so far, not been a match for the giant’s fists and axe.
Time to smarten up. She’d been arrogant, and it had made her dumb. Sure, she was the best rated single-play gamer in the country, but she hadn’t won the national title by making stupid mistakes over and over.
“Fee Fie,” the giant said, which was the signal for his first enrage.
The first time Spark had died, it’d been to an enormous fist crushing down on her. At least she’d figured out how to avoid that attack.
“Yoo-hoo,” she said, stepping out from behind the salt and waggling her sword at the giant. “Over here.”
Her monstrous opponent growled and lifted his fists. There was almost time for Spark to get a magebolt off at the giant’s face. Almost, but not quite…
“Argh!” the giant yelled, his hands crashing down like twin meat hammers.
At the last second, Spark darted away. Her heart hammering in her throat, she fetched up against the pepper. One mega-attack survived. Two to go.
The giant lifted his fists and inspected them for the smear of dead human, giving Spark a few moments to set her hotkeys and plan her next move. In order to activate her biggest spell, she’d need to trigger an area-of-effect first. Ideally, where it would do the most damage.
She glanced up at her foe, judging the distance to his face. Surely his eyes were vulnerable. Unfortunately, they were also out of range.
Okay then, something closer. Last time she’d targeted his hands, but he’d just pulled out his axe and cleaved her in half. Not pretty.
However, there was one area that was in reach. And hopefully a good target for her Arcane Burn spell.
She sidled around the glass-sided pepper shaker and eyed the distance to the edge of the table. The giant’s metal belt buckle scraped up against the wood, so she’d have to veer off slightly to cast her spell.
Groin shot—that was the plan. Spark dashed into the open, sword raised.
The giant let out a cackle. “Bake my bread.”
“I’ll bake your bread,” Spark said under her breath, dodging back and forth to avoid the giant’s blows.
She scooted to the edge of the vast table. Pointing the tip of her blade at the area below the giant’s belt, she ignited her Arcane Burn.
Please, do some damage.
“Foe,” the giant growled.
The word vibrated through Spark’s chest. In the corner of her vision, the sim interface flickered, showing her biggest spell was charging up. Quarter power. Then halfway there. Why wasn’t that Arcane Burn doing damage?
Crack!
Splinters of wood flew from the axe blow that had narrowly missed her head. She rolled to her feet and glanced up at her red-faced foe. No more distractions.
With a deep breath, she charged forward, strai
ght at the giant’s belly. The axe swished through the air behind her, the blade embedding into the table.
Good.
While the giant wrenched it out, she leaped. For one heart-stopping second she was airborne over a huge drop. The giant’s leather shoes seemed a thousand feet below, and she knew the fall would kill her.
Then she managed to catch herself one-handed on the edge of the leather belt. Gasping, she drove her blade into the giant’s hip.
With a howl of pain, her opponent doubled over—bringing his face into range.
Her Kill Bolt reached maximum, and without a second’s hesitation, she triggered the spell, aiming at the giant’s near eye.
Direct hit.
Finally, her luck was holding.
“Fum!” the giant cried, staggering upright.
Gritting her teeth, Spark held on to his belt as he lurched back and forth. She slammed against the buckle and grimaced. But she had to stay alive until the giant went down for good.
Otherwise, she’d respawn at the bottom of a giant vine reaching up into the clouds, and she didn’t have time to play this whole encounter again.
Especially as her parents refused to let her miss dinner when she was gaming. One time, they’d even sent her older brother into her room to physically pull the plug on her sim-chair. Not only had she been nauseous the rest of the night, she’d never forgiven him.
But she’d never missed dinner again.
Dammit, though, was this giant ever going to die?
He stumbled toward the table again, and Spark judged the distance. Too far to jump.
“Sparkie!” It was her younger sister’s voice, filtering through the helmet. “Mom says come eat.”
“Sec,” she ground out, not sure if Rosie could hear her.
Die, already.
Finally, the giant stiffened and started toppling over. Spark rode him to the ground, jumping clear at the last second onto the ragged mat covering the wide plank floor of the giant’s kitchen.