by Spear, Terry
He chuckled. “For you, maybe. We’ve only made it through our first class.”
She glanced at her watch. The time had frozen in place. “What time is it?”
“Past time for life science.”
“Oh, help me up.”
“Are you sure…?”
The nurse frowned. “I’ll call your parents.”
“My mother is interviewing for jobs.” There wasn’t any way Emily wanted the school nurse to send her mother into a panic in the event she was still home. “I’m sure you won’t be able to get in touch with her. She doesn’t carry a cell phone. Dad works in the stands at the Cape about this hour. There’d be no reaching him. I’ll be okay.”
She drew her legs over the edge of the cot using caution, when her head began to swim. Michael would keep her safe. At all costs, she had to stay with him the rest of the day.
Standing, she gripped his hand tightly. “I’m okay.” In reality, she wanted to rest her head on a down-filled pillow and sleep until the next morning.
“Are you sure…?” Michael asked.
Emily cast him a look, which told him he’d better choose his next words carefully.
“If you feel badly again, be sure to return and I’ll send you home,” the nurse said.
To what? An empty shell of a house where the ghost girl would interrupt her sleep? She couldn’t handle that right now.
“Thanks.” Her teeth threatened to chatter, and she clenched them shut.
Michael grabbed their book bags and slipped his other arm around her waist. When they made it into the hall, she leaned against him, still unsteady on her feet.
“Emily, you’re not all right at all,” Michael scolded, but despite his annoyance, he gripped her tightly, squeezing her against him. “You should be home in bed. You can barely stand. Your skin’s clammy, and you’re shivering.”
In spite of his scolding, she loved how he demonstrated his concern. “No, Michael. I can’t sleep when I’m at home. The ghost girl wakes me every time I fall asleep.”
The muscle in his jaw twitched. “What happened in the hall?”
“I’m not sure. I think it’s a spirit.”
“Here?” His brows knitted together. “In the school?”
She nodded, wishing she could give him better news.
“Jeez, Emily, what is it with you and ghosts?”
She didn’t speak for a moment, just stared at the floor, then sighed. She might as well tell him everything. He was bound to find out sooner or later. Looking up at him, she said, “I can speak with them. I have since I was little.” Ever since she’d died. But she didn’t want to tell him that part of the equation.
He shook his head. “What else can you do?”
“I’m pretty good at baking chocolate chip cookies.”
Groaning, he kissed the top of her head. When they approached class, he switched topics. “What happened in technology? I know you were trying to read Red’s mind.”
“Nothing. I mean, I didn’t find out what he and his buddies intended to do to me.”
“Why did you suddenly leave the room, then? I thought you saw what Red was thinking, and it made you sick to your stomach. Then I had a premonition you hadn’t made it to the nurse’s station. The teacher let me leave class before the bell rang to check on you.”
“I’ll tell you after life science, Michael. We’re already late for class.”
He hesitated to walk her into the room. “You promise?”
Her lips still quivering from the cold, she attempted a smile. “You bet. We’re in this together.”
She realized then, she really couldn’t do it alone, and she was glad Michael would help her. Only she hated to drag him into it. Had he ever had a premonition give him grief? She glanced up at Michael. That was another thing she’d have to question him about, as soon as she warmed up, and they were alone.
* * *
Michael and Emily walked into life science class, her lips still blue and her skin pale as fresh fallen snow. He planned to take her outside to have lunch as soon as class ended.
The teacher asked Emily, “What is the difference between RNA and DNA?”
Poor Emily’s mind seemed muddled and confused.
Michael explained, “Emily had to see the nurse last period because she was sick.”
“Maybe she needs to be sent home. She doesn’t look well.”
Emily slid Michael an annoyed look. He wheedled his way out of the mess. “No one’s home, Mrs. Johnson, to watch over her.”
The teacher relented. “All right, but if you feel worse, I want you to see the nurse, Emily.”
Thankfully, Mrs. Johnson left Emily alone the rest of the class, though she considered her from time to time, her brow creased in concern.
As soon as the bell rang for lunch hour, Michael called in a pizza order. After they picked it up, he drove to the park. He figured Emily would finally warm up, sitting in the soupy August Florida sun, but he hoped his deodorant would hold out while his car heater ran full blast.
Not once had he had a vision of Emily’s going into the hall and what she faced, either. He’d never been so frustrated in his abilities his whole life until now. How could he protect her when he couldn’t see what would happen to her next?
Tightening his grip on the steering wheel, he was bound and determined to force the future images to appear.
* * *
Emily glanced at Michael as a trickle of sweat dribbled down his cheek. He was certain to rethink his relationship with her. She reached out to turn the heater off, but he stayed her hand.
“Leave it. You need to warm up.”
She held her fingers up to the vents, chasing away the cold. “You’re going to have heat exhaustion.”
He shut off the vents closest to him, then leaned back into the seat. “If anyone ever told me I’d have my heater on high in the hottest month in Florida, I’d have told them they were crazy.”
He pulled under the shade of an oak and parked. Michael grabbed the pizza and opened Emily’s door.
As soon as the muggy heat hit her, she began to feel warm. “I never thought I’d like spending my lunch hour sitting in this weather.”
“Well, sitting in air-conditioned classes all day hasn’t helped. If you had gym class earlier…”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. I would have warmed right up.”
They sat down on a stone bench where they had a full view of the pond under a big maple tree that helped to shade them. Ducks floated nearer the bank, and Emily tugged off a piece of crust, then tossed it to them.
Quacking filled the air, and the ducks pounced on the pizza. Feathers floated in the breeze like a sudden winter snowfall. And for the moment, she felt like a normal teen, no ghostly troubles or bullies intent on pulverizing her.
Michael threw a piece of crust in the water. The ducks dashed back into the pond and tackled the food. “Okay, so tell me what happened, really. I know every time you tried to talk about it there were too many people around listening in on our conversation.”
“There’s something at the school. Some kind of spirit, I think. It wanted me to follow it.”
Michael took a deep breath of exasperation. “Emily…”
“I have to find out what it wants! I can’t ignore these spirits.”
He stared at the pizza box. “All right. It’s the same with Granny. She can’t ignore them either.”
Emily couldn’t believe it. Why didn’t Granny tell her about it? Maybe they could work out the puzzle together. “Then she’s having problems with more than one, too?”
“She didn’t have a problem before. Not until you moved in.”
Emily’s heart sank to think his grandmother was having difficulty because of her. “Great. Now it’s all my fault.”
He ran his hand over her shoulder as if to soothe her feelings. “Not your fault, Emily. But I think you’re the key, somehow. We’re not certain how to unlock the secrets, though.”
Emily sh
uddered. “The spirit wanted to show me something, I was certain, only I got so cold. I couldn’t think anymore.”
Michael took a deep breath. “You fainted. How did it act toward you?”
“Coaxing. It wanted me to follow. At first, I kept trying to see it with my eyes. Then I realized it touched my thoughts, and I had to let it lead the way. But before this happened, it touched my shoulder. It still burns.” She pulled her sleeve up to expose skin. Fingerlike projections marked her in red.
“Frostbite.”
“Weird.”
Michael touched the skin around the marks. “You can’t go chasing after it anymore by yourself.”
She lifted a piece of cheese and pepperoni pizza to her lips. The heat felt good at her fingertips. “I decided the same thing when I couldn’t figure out what to do. I needed you there. Together, we’ll find out what it wants.” She took a bite of her pizza.
“Do you think it’ll allow it? Maybe it’ll only show up if you’re alone.” He grabbed another slice and began eating it.
“I’ve thought of that, Michael. But I can’t do it alone. Not if the same thing happens to me. The spirit will have to understand.”
“All right, then after our last class today, we’ll—”
He cut his words short when Red and his bully friends rode into the parking lot in a black car streaked with fluorescent stripes of orange, yellow, and red flames. Gravel scattered gravel when they spun the wheels.
Totally thawed, Emily turned her attention to the menace. She wrinkled her forehead in thought, and quirked a brow ready to deal with them, as Michael hurried to yank her from the bench.
Chapter 8
Breaking her concentration, Michael pulled Emily toward his car as the bullies tore into the park in their flame-painted vehicle. “Get into the car, Emily.”
“But Michael—”
Once she pulled her sandaled feet inside, he slammed the door, cutting off her protest. She huffed at him in annoyance and returned her attention to the driver of the black vehicle.
Controlling the driver’s mind, she forced him to drive the car in circles near the edge of the pond, well out of the way of Michael and Emily’s escape route.
Michael raced around his car and hopped into the driver’s seat. His action interrupted her concentration again, and she temporarily released the driver’s mind. The car jerked to a stop, wetting its tires at the pond’s perimeter. The boys grabbed for the car doors, and Emily made the driver automatically lock the doors. Yanking futilely at the car doors, the boys cursed the driver.
Michael reversed and headed out of the parking area. The three bullies finally piled out of the car and gave chase on foot, fists waving in the air.
Emily folded her arms. “I would have handled the matter.”
“How?”
She pursed her lips. “Somehow.”
“What were you trying to do?”
“Control the driver’s mind.”
“Those idiots would have jumped out of the car eventually, as slow as it was going. Then they would have come for us.”
“For a few minutes, they were too busy screaming obscenities at the driver, trying to get him to stop. Then I willed him to lock the doors. It took them a few seconds to realize what he’d done before they unlocked their own doors manually. But he relocked them again.”
Michael’s jaw tightened. “From now on we’ve got to be more careful.”
“One good scare is what they need.”
“Yeah, but they’re the ones doing the scaring.”
Emily shoved a loose curl behind her ear. “They don’t scare me.”
“That’s what worries me.” He patted her leg. “You’ll try to take them all on your own. Are you warmed up now?”
“Sure. Turn on the air conditioner.”
“You got it.” He turned the air on high. Sweat trickled down his cheeks.
She dabbed it with a tissue. “Sorry you had to sit in a sauna to help thaw me out.”
His mouth edged up. “I should have just tried kissing you.”
Hmm, now that would have been an idea. Why hadn’t he thought of it sooner? Emily nodded. “Next time I’ll take you up on it.”
“Hopefully, there won’t be a next time.” He glanced at her.
She raised her brows.
He lifted his chin. “I mean, as far as you needing to be thawed. The kissing part…that’s another story.”
* * *
Michael fidgeted in his last class, hardly able to wait through the boring lecture so he could be with Emily again. Between the icy spirit and the threat of four bullies now, he feared for her safety even more. She wasn’t what he called reckless exactly, but more…undaunted…by the troubles she faced. And that’s what scared him. One of these times, he feared the odds would be against her.
Though he intended to help even them. No more venturing off to fight demons alone.
Michael took another ragged breath and glanced at his watch. One more minute had passed.
“Do you need to be somewhere, Michael?” the teacher asked.
Michael’s faced heated. Yeah, he did, watching over one beautiful redhead with sparkling green, inquisitive eyes who was bound to get them into lots more hot water.
When school ended, Michael waited faithfully by the door to Emily’s psychology class. She gave him a sunshiny Florida smile. “Time for after-school research?”
“You bet. Time to find some answers.” Though he seriously doubted they could talk the ghosts into leaving Emily alone even if they found out who they were and why they were here. “Had any more visitations from Casper the Cold?”
“No, nary a chill. It must be haunting someone else at the moment.”
Was it? Or was it waiting for a chance to get to her when she was alone again? “And Red and his gang?”
She glanced over her shoulder as their shoes padded along the linoleum floor. “Not a sign of them. But I’m sure they’re plotting something sinister.”
“No doubt.” Michael opened the door to the library. “We’ll go to the main library after this because I imagine we won’t find much here. But since the ghost keeps trying to get you to follow it, I thought it might want you to see something in here.”
“Right. If it’s a pirate’s ghost, it probably can’t even read.”
“I’m supposed to be the genius.”
“Ah, but I have loads of common sense.”
Michael cocked a dark brow as they entered the library and headed for the computers. “You’re saying I don’t?”
“I’d say you have quite a few...good qualities, Michael. I haven’t known you long enough to know if you have a lot of common sense, though.” Emily loved his sense of humor, and seeing him waiting for her outside her class, well, she couldn’t have been any luckier than to meet Michael her first day of school.
“I guess it means we’ll have to see an awful lot of each other so you can decide whether I have common sense or not.” He winked at her, then brought up the library list menu on the computer.
She was all for that. Sitting next to him, she poked a finger at the screen. “Look for pirates.”
“I thought we wanted to find out about the girl first.”
“Pirates.” She glanced at him. “I think the pirate’s treasure is the key.”
“Pirate’s treasure?”
“Yeah, the wooden chest filled with gold coins and bullion bars…buried somewhere in the swamp.”
“You saw this?”
“Yep. The ghost girl draws me there. I’m sure it’s important.”
He typed in pirates, Florida. A list appeared. “Hmm, there are a couple of books here on the subject.”
Emily hopped up from the chair to retrieve them from the shelves. She pulled one out and read through the first couple of pages. Michael typed in ghost stories, Florida, and Emily returned to the chair beside him.
Reading out loud, she said, “As late as 1823, the U.S. government commissioned Commodore David Porter to stop t
he pirates: Black Caesar, Blackbeard, also known as Edward Teach, and Jean Lafitte. Earlier, pirates like Sir John Hawkins and Sir Francis Drake also raided the state. In fact, twenty famous pirates plagued the coast of Florida.”
“Yeah?”
“Okay, what about this? ‘September 10, 1622, a Spanish convoy of twenty-eight ships left Havana headed for home, loaded to the gunwales with treasure from South and Central America. Eight of the ships sank during a hurricane.’” She snapped the book closed. “What if pirates brought some of the treasure up here? The books say pirates lived all along the coast. In fact, they were some of Florida’s first beachcombers.”
“Cute.”
“Yeah. There wasn’t any treasure on the land, just from the Spanish galleons laden with it because they sailed up the Gulf Stream through the straits that parallel Florida’s Keys. That’s too far south of us, but maybe they hauled their booty up here to hide it.”
“Could be.” Michael wrote down a list of books on ghostly sightings, then walked over to the rows of shelves.
Emily followed him. “Lots of books?”
“Three, but the main library will have more. These include ghosts sighted in Florida, but I’ll have to skim through them to see if any appeared in our area. Otherwise, we’ll have to check deaths in the newspapers and other ghost books from the main library.”
“Okay. I’ll check the Internet in the meantime.”
Emily logged onto the Internet on one of the computers. She typed in ghosts, Florida and came up with a long list of ghostly sightings.
One that instantly grabbed her interest was a haunted warehouse in Miami that housed Florida souvenirs. For two months, investigators, including police officers, an insurance investigator, a parapsychologist, a reporter, the owner, and a number of employees, observed objects moving or crashing to the floor, boxes sliding on shelves, or flying from one shelf to another in nearly two-hundred and fifty well-documented cases. But what caught Emily’s eye was one of the young male employees was thought to have been moving the objects, unbeknownst to him, through psychic-kinetic abilities.
“Hey, look at this, Michael.”