by Paul Seiple
Kim pointed down to the pool. “Sharing stories with Dad.”
“Have you given any more thought to my proposal?” Mason asked.
“I’m just not sure I’m cut out for this paranormal stuff. Catching criminals is a hell of a lot easier than dealing with demons,” Kim said.
“We could use you and Terrence on the team,” Don said.
“I think I’m going to have to kindly decline,” Kim said. “I’m not cut out for this.”
Mason laughed again. “That’s what Don said at first.”
Don shrugged his shoulders and opened the paper. The front-page headline read DISTRICT ATTORNEY JUDITH RICHARDS DEATH RULED SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION.
“Is anyone buying that?’ Kim asked.
“Spontaneous human combustion is a very real thing,” Mason said.
“Come on,” Kim said.
“It’s true,” Don said. “And Judith Richards had one of the main causes. She was an alcoholic.”
“She hid that well. I never knew Judith to be a drinker,” Kim said.
“The four bottles of vodka in her desk tell a different story,” Don said.
“I’ve known a lot of alcoholics and none have burst into flames,” Kim said. “Don’t get me wrong, I want people to believe that’s what happened. I’m only playing the devil’s advocate.”
“Poor choice of words,” Don said.
“Miss Richards was a smoker too. Alcohol is extremely combustible,” Mason said.
“How…”
Mason interrupted Kim. “It’s our job to protect people from the dark side as well as themselves. The truth would spread fear like wildfire. We have connections throughout the world. Spontaneous human combustion isn’t a plausible cause of death, but fortunately, we have a very convincing team.”
“Rosalind?” Kim asked.
Mason smiled and sipped iced tea. “I will not reveal my sources to someone who declines a membership invitation into Project Specter.”
Lanky stepped onto the deck. “If he’s trying to convince you to join the team, the benefits aren’t that great.” Lanky froze. “Where’s Deb?”
Kim laughed. “Scared of her, huh?”
“She’s my ex-wife, and she’s a bad-ass witch. Of course I’m scared of her,” Lanky said.
“You’re safe. Debbie is still away honoring Carol and Anne,” Mason said.
“Speaking of being away, I’ve tried to get in touch with Derek Gallagher to check on him, but he will not respond,” Kim said.
“Derek’s on a sabbatical. He’s out of the country. I highly doubt he is checking email. This is something he needs to heal. Hopefully, he will like himself again one day.”
Kim’s phone chirped, alerting her of a new text.
“Maybe everyone is going to get a happy ending,” Kim said. “Norma Tate just sent me a message. It looks like they’ve found a house in Florida. Ben was able to transfer for work, and the Challis house has a buyer.”
“I have no idea what I’m going to do with that house,” Mason said, smiling. He turned to Don, “No, we are not turning it into a new museum.”
Thirty-One
Kim Strode sat at her nightstand brushing the tangles from her hair. Grooming hadn’t been that important to her over the last few weeks. She needed a haircut. She needed a dye job to hide the gray. Kim traced the black circles under her eyes. Sleep was something else that took a back seat lately. But for the first time in weeks, she welcomed rest. The anticipation of the soft mattress cradling her tired muscles seemed like heaven.
“Did you eat the last of the chocolate donuts?”
Sam’s voice brought a smile to Kim’s face. He no longer showed signs of a failing mind. Sam was sharp and always hungry.
“No. You did. Don’t tell me you forgot,” Kim said.
“Don’t try to pull that crap with me. My memory is better than yours,” Sam said. “I saw you scarfing one down after dinner.”
“If you saw it, why are you interrogating me?”
A tap against the window took Kim away from the banter with Sam. Another tap, like a small pebble. Kim stood and craned her neck toward the sound, but the night was too dark. She inched closer to the window.
“Don’t be afraid.”
The words were barely above a whisper, but Kim heard them as if someone yelled at her. She knew the voice. She would never forget it. Kim turned to see the silhouette of a child standing in the corner of her room. The faint beam from her desk lamp lit up the face. It was Joey Carpenter.
“We need your help,” the boy said.
“Get the hell out of here,” Kim said.
“Kim, are you OK?” Sam asked.
The boy never left the shadows.
“I’m fine, Dad. I’m changing. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Please help up us go home,” the boy said as he pointed to the window.
The moon’s glow shined on the five other kids from the Silent Six case as they stood by the window in the backyard.
Sam opened the door without knocking. He had his hand covering his eyes. “If you’re naked, I’m sorry, but it’s nothing I haven’t seen before. I changed your diapers.”
“Dad,” Kim said.
“I was worried,” Sam said.
“I’m fine,” Kim said. “Give a girl some privacy.”
“Sorry, just being the overprotective father again.” Sam shut the door.
Joey Carpenter was gone. The other children were no longer at the window. Kim reached for her phone to text Terrence. The maps app on her iPhone was opened to an address. The Challis House.
“Shouldn’t we have Debbie with us? At least Mason?” Terrence asked, pulling into the driveway of the Challis house.
“There’s no time for that,” Kim said, opening the door before the car came to a stop. She grabbed a flashlight and a shovel.
“How do you know this isn’t the demon tricking us?” Terrence asked, catching up to Kim.
“It felt different. I wasn’t afraid. I was sad. I felt their sadness.”
Kim flashed the light toward the decrepit shed Sara Tate played hide-and-seek in. She moved to the side of the building, letting the light lead her through the knee-high weeds. Something tugged at her hand.
“It’s OK. Just follow me,” Kim said.
“I am following you,” Terrence said.
Kim turned the flashlight toward Terrence. “Didn’t you just grab my hand?”
“No,” Terrence said.
Kim’s hand jerked again. Joey Carpenter was next to Kim, staring up at her.
“Do you see him?” Kim asked.
Terrence saw the boy. He took a step back, tripping on a tree root. Terrence fell onto his backside.
“You do,” Kim said.
Terrence nodded.
“Don’t be scared. I think he’s leading us to the bodies,” Kim said.
Joey Carpenter pointed to a fence that was barely visible through the weeds and barely standing. The boy tugged at Kim’s hand, pulling her toward the fence. Terrence got to his feet and followed.
Kim shined the light on the rusted metal. The remaining children of the Silent Six stood behind a massive oak tree on the opposite side of the fence. The tree had a naked sliver as far as the eye could see. The missing bark had to be the result of a lightning strike. The tree lived, but barely. Kim gasped as if something stole her breath. Joey Carpenter let go of her hand and joined the other children.
“It can’t be,” Terrence said.
“Do you see all of them?” Kim asked.
“Yes,” Terrence. “I’ll get a shovel.”
Kim reached for her phone and called Don.
The children moved inside the fence. Each found a place and froze. Their stillness was eerie, but Kim knew their purpose. They were marking their graves. According to Sam’s diary, the Challis house and land were searched many times after Jessica’s disappearance. There was no sign of any disturbance that would mark fresh graves. Then again, Elvin Hayes went to great leng
ths to keep his crimes hidden. Hayes was cunning and tight-lipped. No one would have thought he buried the children at the home of one of his victims. The children stood in what used to be Catherine Challis’s vegetable garden.
“Should I start digging?” Terrence asked, returning with the shovel.
“Let’s wait for Don and Mason,” Kim said.
Headlights flashed against the shed not long after Kim spoke. She moved to greet them.
“I’m sure they are buried here,” Kim said.
“She’s right. I see the kids too,” Terrence said.
Mason walked past them without saying a word. He stopped at the oak and placed his hand against the naked space left in lightning’s wake. Mason eyed the children standing in the weeds. “Amazing.” He spoke to the children. “I’m sorry for what Hayes did to you. Soon you will be at peace.”
“Debbie should be here,” Kim said.
“She’s still not back,” Don said. “She won’t be back for a few more weeks. These children have waited long enough to go home. “
Terrence stood next to Mason. “Where should I start?”
“Where the children are standing,” Mason.
“But…”
“They are not really there. It’s their souls,” Mason said.
Terrence stepped over the rusty fence. He placed the cutting edge of the blade against the ground. The earth was hard. Terrence felt a cold surround him that was rare on a summer night.
“It’s OK,” Mason said. “They’re not going to hurt you.”
Terrence cut the dirt with gentle pressure.
“And you cannot hurt them,” Mason said.
Terrence placed his foot on the shovel and with his weight forced the blade deeper into the ground. He dug about four feet before finding the first bone. He continued to dig but with more caution. More bones. At the bottom of the grave were six tiny skulls. Emotions took over. Terrence teared up. Mason prayed. Kim grabbed Don’s arm.
“How could someone be so evil?” Kim asked.
“Evil knows no good,” Don said. “Once it finds a host, it only grows stronger until it devours everything. It devoured Hayes. It devoured Judith Richards.”
“But these children,” Kim said.
“Unfortunately, these children were causalities in the never-ending war between good and evil. It’s our duty to make sure their souls find peace,” Mason said.
“I think I’ve uncovered everything,” Terrence said, wiping sweat and tears from his face with the sleeve of his shirt.
“How are we going to explain this?” Kim asked.
“We’re not,” Mason said. “We are going to take the remains and give them a proper burial and celebrate the lives of these children.”
“What about the families?” Terrence asked.
“There are no families left,” Kim said.
Bradley English was the first child to leave. He was followed by Ava Weilden, and then Jimmy Lloyd disappeared. Jaime Barton was next to go. Then, Jessica Challis was gone. Joey Carpenter waved in Kim’s direction and vanished. The children known as the Silent Six were once again gone, but this time not silent or lost. They had been found and could finally rest in peace.
Epilogue
The heat of summer had given way to a cooler than usual fall in Charlotte. Halloween was two weeks away. Kim never gave much thought to Halloween after she outgrew trick-or-treating. But this year was different. As she rode shotgun with Terrence through neighborhoods, the skeletons, witches, and zombies adorning houses had a new meaning. While the purpose of these decorations was to scare children as they went from house to house collecting candy, Kim knew paranormal things existed that couldn’t be purchased at the local department store and these things didn’t wait until Halloween to make their presence felt.
Kim hadn’t heard from Don in a month or so. She figured he was busy with the move. Not surprisingly, the museum was deemed beyond repair. Don decided that it was finally time to retire to Mason’s estate in the mountains. For years, Mason had offered accommodations to Don, but the museum was his baby. He couldn’t shut it down, even though it saw only around a dozen visitors a week. And he couldn’t sell it to anyone else. Don was convinced that very few people understood the actual power paranormal things held in this world.
Mason hadn’t reached out to Kim since she declined his offer to join Project Specter for the third time. She didn’t think he was offended. Deep down, Mason knew Kim and Terrence were cops. And cops were more comfortable keeping the public safe from criminals not specters. Mason had mentioned traveling to Africa with Debbie to look into reports of people in Zanzibar being attacked by Popobowa, a demon that can resemble a human, but its true form is a one-eyed monster with bat wings.
Kim wavered on joining Project Specter. Like Don many years ago when he first met Mason, Kim realized she was attracted to the other worldly entities. She would have accepted Mason’s offer if it wasn’t for Terrence. He had been touched several times by things of stories and legends and had no desire to meet them again. Kim’s loyalty to Terrence was strong enough to deny the urge to hunt monsters and demons. But she missed Don, Mason, and even Debbie. Kim didn’t completely trust Debbie, but she knew the times Debbie held truths from her were in her best interest. Kim looked at her phone, as she did more regularly, hoping for an email or a text from Don or Mason. More than anything, she wanted to know they were doing well.
“Still hoping to hear from them, huh?” Terrence said, checking the lid on his coffee.
“I’m worried about Mason. He’s in danger if he went to Africa to hunt that thing. I googled it, and the things it’s capable of are terrifying.”
“It’s probably just a myth. Most of those things are stories told to keep children in line,” Terrence said.
Kim laughed. “How can you be so skeptical after what you saw? By the way, word is the Popobowa doesn’t take kindly to people who don’t believe in it.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not in Africa then. Speaking of believing in things. It was nice to have you at church last Sunday.”
“I didn’t hate it,” Kim said.
“Look at that…an atheist not hating church. You coming back next Sunday?” Terrence asked.
“Probably not. The Panthers play at one. Y’all take forever at lunch after.”
“It’s a Southern Baptist thing,” Terrence said.
Kim swiped through her text messages again. A new notification popped up from a number she didn’t recognize.
You can’t ignore me forever. You pledged your allegiance to me. One day, we will meet again. - M
“That fried okra is hard to resist. The Panthers are playing the Jets. I can probably miss the first half. You know what, I’ll be at church Sunday,” Kim said.
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A Note From Paul
I hope that you enjoyed THE MAYHEM CHILDREN. I wanted to write a story that took inspiration from the horror movies I enjoyed when I was younger. I wanted to pay homage to the tales that gave me the creeps. If you’re a fan on 80s horror, you’ll notice a few Easter eggs throughout the book. THE MAYHEM CHILDREN is the first book in The Project Specter series, so more books with the cast are soon to come.
Words cannot express how grateful I am that you took a chance on me and read this book. Hopefully, I didn’t disappoint you. I would be very appreciative if you left a review wherever you purchased the book.
For more information about what I’m working on or to check out my other books visit www.paulseiple.com or say hi at [email protected].
Until the next story, be kind.
-Paul
By Paul Seiple
Copyright © 2018 All Rights Reserved
Without limiting the rights under the cop
yright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronically, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise) without proper written permission of the copyright owner.
THE MAYHEM CHILDREN is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design: Deranged Doctor Designs
Proofreading: BZHercules