Ghostly Encounter (Ghostly #1) (Ghostly Series)

by Daniels, Suzannah

  “I love you, too, Benjamin. I’ll remember you always,” she said, squeezing her arms around his waist.

  He kissed her lips, and in that moment, it was only the two of them. Nothing else in the world mattered, but this single moment in time. She kissed him for all the feelings that came rippling to the surface, for all the happy times they had shared since that day he had spoken to her in Chickamauga Park, for all the things they would miss because time had cheated them from a life together.

  He pulled back and looked at her. Lightening flashed in the sky, and she could see it all too clearly—the sadness that clouded his eyes. Hot tears filled her own, and she broke their eye contact and flung herself at his chest, squeezing him as if she never wanted to let go. His arms wrapped around her back protectively, and she hugged him until he pulled away once again. He gave her a final kiss. “Mia, we must go. The longer we tarry here, the greater the chance of being discovered by the gatekeeper.”

  Reluctantly, she nodded her head and let go. He turned and walked briskly toward the woods. She and Matt followed. She glanced at Matt and found him watching her. “I wish you luck, Mia.”

  “Thank you, Matt. Take care of him for me.”

  “I will,” he said. “That’s what best friends do.”

  She nodded her head in agreement and rushed to catch up with Benjamin.

  When they reached the edge of the forest, Benjamin pointed up ahead. Vision was limited, but the clouds had briefly uncovered the moon, and she thought perhaps she could see the portal. It was difficult to discern, only visible to her because Benjamin had pointed it out, and she thought she could see a slight disfigurement of the area, like a tiny ripple on the surface of a pond.

  “Run into the portal, Mia,” Benjamin ordered.

  She nodded in understanding, meeting his eyes and trying to memorize every detail of his face. This was it.

  A shrill war cry reverberated through the air.

  “Go!” Matt shouted.

  Mia whipped her head toward the direction of the war cry. She watched as the apparition solidified. The gatekeeper glared at them with evil, glowing eyes, easily visible despite the pounding rain and the ink black night. He charged, shaking the ground as he rushed toward them.

  Benjamin ran first, and Mia followed. They moved in the general direction toward the portal. Matt split away from them, and for an instant, the gatekeeper stopped, unsure of whom to chase.

  The creature bellowed out another piercing cry and turned toward Benjamin and Mia.

  Lightening cracked the sky.

  The gatekeeper’s powerful muscles contracted as his body sprang into motion. In the bright illumination of the lightening, Mia could see the creature’s face contort as its muzzle pointed skyward and another cry erupted through its fangs.

  Thunder boomed.

  She shivered.

  Benjamin turned to her and grabbed her by the shoulders. “I’ll lead it away from you. Run to the portal.”

  He didn’t wait for a reply. He sprinted away, running in the direction of the portal. Once he had the gatekeeper’s attention, he swung wide, running parallel to the portal.

  Mia raced toward the portal, but the shrill cry of the evil ghost creature brought her up short, and she turned in time to see it running toward her.

  It took her a moment to realize that the scream echoing through the air was her own. Afraid that she wouldn’t have time to reach the portal before the creature reached her, she changed direction, racing away from the portal.

  She heard Matt’s and Benjamin’s voices as they tried desperately to pull the gatekeeper’s attention away from her.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Benjamin rushing toward the creature and leaping as he grabbed its legs, tackling it. Matt was directly behind him.

  She changed direction again, racing back toward the portal. If they could keep the gatekeeper distracted for a couple of minutes, she would have time to reach the portal and cross into the safety of her own time. She remembered that Benjamin wanted her to think of the afternoon before she had entered the portal. Her mind replayed the afternoon over and over as she neared the portal, but then another thought crept into her mind. She remembered what Benjamin had told her, He will kill, if necessary, to protect the integrity of history.

  A shrill cry snapped her from her thoughts. She stopped just in front of the portal, her chest heaving. The portal gently rippled the air in front of her, the movement so subtle that it was barely noticeable.

  One step and she would be home.

  Another cry. But this one was different. It was a cry of pain.

  She whirled around, trying desperately to focus on Benjamin in the darkness.

  Lightening sizzled in the blackness. She saw Benjamin, his body falling limply to the ground. The gatekeeper poised behind him, his gruesome hand high in the air, his sharp talons protruding menacingly.

  “Benjamin!” she screamed as horror thundered icily through her veins.

  Her mind no longer in control, her legs raced frantically toward Benjamin. Matt hollered above the howling winds. The creature turned toward him.

  Though she was already exhausted, Mia pushed her body to run faster. “Benjamin!”

  No answer.

  Hot tears rolled freely down her cheeks, a strange contrast with the cold rain that pelted her skin.

  The gatekeeper released another cry as it scurried after Matt.

  Mia reached Benjamin’s side and knelt beside him. He lay on his stomach, unmoving. “Benjamin!”

  No response.

  “Benjamin!” She shook him, and he grunted. “Benjamin, you have to get up!”

  She tugged upward on his shoulders, and a cry of pain escaped his lips. “What has he done to you?”

  Benjamin groaned as he pulled himself up on his hands and knees. Mia helped him. “We’ve got to get you back to the carriage.”

  Unsteadily, he rose to his feet. “Mia, you have to go through the portal.”

  “I’m not leaving you, Benjamin. Not like this.” She pushed her thick, wet hair out of her eyes and put his arm around her shoulders.

  “Mia. Go!”

  “I won’t leave you to die at the hands of the gatekeeper.”

  “I’ll be fine. Hurry! Matt won’t be able to keep him away for long.”

  She ignored him and carried as much of his weight as she could while she rushed him away from the portal and toward the carriage.

  “Mia, please…” he said.

  “Another day,” she responded. “For now, we have to get you away from here.”

  He said nothing else as she helped him hobble through the field. Occasionally, she heard him grunt and knew he must be in a great deal of pain.

  Matt ran to them and pulled Benjamin’s free arm around his shoulders.

  “Where’s the gatekeeper?” Mia yelled above the wind and the rain.

  “I think he has returned to the portal. Let’s hurry before we find out I’m wrong.”

  They moved as swiftly as possible, half carrying, half dragging Benjamin as they approached the carriage.

  Matt opened the carriage door and hopped inside, pulling Benjamin in and helping him lie down on the seat. He helped Mia in.

  “Help him. I’ll drive the carriage to his house,” Matt ordered.

  Mia nodded her assent.

  Benjamin, groaning softly, lay on his side across the bench seat. Occasionally when the carriage jolted, his groans became louder, and Mia desperately wished she knew some way to ease his pain.

  She smoothed his soaked hair away from his face. It was too dark in the carriage to see him clearly, but she pressed her palms to his cheek, hoping her presence would reassure him. Rain pounded mercilessly against the carriage.

  Mia didn’t know how much time had passed before Matt finally pulled the carriage up in front of Benjamin’s house. The horrific weather and circumstances had made the trip seem an eternity.

  Matt swung the carriage door open, and he and Mia helped Benjami
n up from the seat and half carried him to the house. Matt barged in the front door and started calling to Benjamin’s father, “Mr. Richards!”

  Mr. Richards appeared at the top of the elegant staircase, his hair tousled, his clothing in disarray, an oil lamp in his hand.

  “Matthew? What’s going on?” he asked, alarm in his voice.

  “Benjamin’s been hurt.”

  Mr. Richards bounded down the stairs, the oil lamp flickering wildly, and for the first time, Mia caught a glimpse of Benjamin’s wounds.

  His shirt hung in shreds against his bloody back. Four parallel gashes started at his right shoulder and carved a path downward, across his back, ending at the left side of his waist.

  She gasped.

  “What happened?” Mr. Richards bellowed, waking other people in the house. An elderly, African-American couple emerged from a downstairs room into the entryway.

  Mia recognized the man as the gentleman who had helped them in the stables.

  The woman rushed forward, examining Benjamin’s wounds.

  Mr. Richards bellowed again, “What happened?”

  “He was attacked by an animal in the woods,” Matt responded.

  The elderly man rushed around the house, lighting oil lamps and candles.

  “Matthew, go get the doctor,” Mr. Richards ordered.

  Matt flew out the door into the rain without another word.

  “Abram, help me get him to his room,” Mr. Richards said, gathering Benjamin’s left arm around his shoulder. Abram immediately sprang into action, pulling Benjamin’s right arm around his neck. The woman climbed the stairs in front of them, grabbing a candle from a nearby table. Once she reached the top of the stairs, she lit several candles and oil lamps, illuminating the second floor.

  Mia followed them as they took Benjamin to his room. His father carefully removed his torn shirt. “What did this to you, Benjamin?” The woman spread a spare blanket over the bed. Mr. Richards helped Benjamin lay across the bed on his stomach.

  Benjamin didn’t respond. He gritted his teeth against the pain. “Where’s Mia?” he asked.

  “I’m here, Benjamin,” she answered.

  His father waved his hand, urging her to stand beside him. She took Benjamin’s hand in her own. “I’m here,” she whispered.

  “You shouldn’t be,” he whispered back.

  “Shhh…,” she urged him to quieten down, to not worry about her missing the portal. He needed to concentrate on getting better. “Another day, Benjamin.” She rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb as he often did to her. “How are you feeling?”

  His face contorted in pain. “I seem to be in need of medical attention. Do you know anything about healing?”

  “A little bit,” she responded. In her world’s standards, she didn’t know much, but she imagined for 1863, she probably had some knowledge that might be helpful.

  She looked at the gashes on his back, his flesh ripped open by the creature’s claws.

  The cuts were deep and blood pooled in the wounds. The woman appeared with towels and pressed them against Benjamin’s back, soaking up the blood. She wet a cloth in a basin in the corner of the room and gently wiped the blood from his uninjured flesh.

  A commotion at the entryway down the stairs alerted them that Matt was back, hopefully with a doctor in tow.

  Mr. Richards rushed out of the room, and a moment later, he returned with Matt and the doctor, who was a thin, gray-haired gentleman.

  Everyone stood quietly around Benjamin’s bedside as the doctor examined the wounds. After a few moments, he finally said in a soft voice, “He’ll need sutures. I’ll need some boiling water to soften the horse hair.”

  The woman immediately left the room.

  He opened his bag and pulled out a small bundle of horse hair and a piece of buckskin, which held several needles.

  The woman returned to the room and asked the doctor, “What need boiling?”

  The doctor held out the bundle of horse hair, and the woman snatched it from his palm and turned to leave the room.

  “Wait!” Mia yelled.

  Everyone turned to look at her. Until now, no one had really seen her because their attention had been solely on Benjamin. She realized she was wearing breeches, which in itself would be strange to everyone in the room. She pushed that thought out of her mind, worried only about Benjamin’s wellbeing.

  “Aren’t you going to boil the needle?” she asked.

  The doctor looked at her in astonishment. “Are you the doctor or am I?”

  “Well, you are, but if you boil the needle, there will be less chance of infection.” She turned her gaze to Mr. Richards. “Do you have any alcohol?” she asked.

  “Alcohol may help the boy with the pain,” the doctor added.

  “I didn’t mean to drink,” Mia said quickly. “It may help with the pain if he drinks some, but I meant to pour in the wounds. It will help clean them. It also will help keep down infection.”

  “Miss, I don’t know who you are…,” the doctor started.

  “Do it!” Benjamin yelled. “Do exactly what she says. Father, get some alcohol.”

  Mr. Richards scurried from the room.

  The doctor selected a needle from a square of buckskin and handed it to the woman. The woman looked at Mia expectantly.

  “Boil the hair and the needle. Once they’ve boiled for a few minutes, pour the water out of the pot and bring them up here in the same pot that you boiled them in. That will help hold down the germs.”

  Mia realized as soon as she said it that they weren’t familiar with germs. Her history teacher had told the class that germs weren’t discovered until after the Civil War. That was the reason that so many soldiers died of disease and botched surgeries.

  The woman didn’t seem to notice anything amiss in Mia’s instructions. She left the room to do her bidding. “We’ll also need clean towels,” Mia called after her.

  Benjamin’s father hurried into the room, carrying two bottles of whiskey. He set them on the table by the doctor.

  Matt moved to Benjamin’s side, squatting at the edge of the bed and whispering reassuring words to him.

  The woman returned with a stack of towels. Mia took them from her and rolled the towels up, placing the rolls around the edges of Benjamin’s back.

  Matt moved away from Benjamin and stood by Abram in the corner of the room.

  Mia picked up a bottle of whiskey and opened it. She bent down beside Benjamin. “This will hurt.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Benjamin assured her. “Just do what you need to do.”

  Slowly, she poured the alcohol in his wounds, being sure to cover every last inch. Benjamin’s fists clenched the pillows by his head, but he never made a sound.

  Mia set the bottle back on the table. She knelt beside Benjamin, her face close to his. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m better, knowing that you’re here,” he whispered.

  She smiled and squeezed his hand.

  Mia crossed the room to the African-American woman. “I’m Mia. What’s your name?” she asked.

  “Lusinda. I be Abram’s wife,” she said softly, barely above a whisper.

  Mia held out her hand, and the woman shook it, a small smile brightening her face. “It’s nice to meet you, Lusinda. Could you check the boiling water?”

  Lusinda nodded her head, still smiling, and brushed past Mia and out of the room.

  The windows lit up as lightening flashed in the night sky. Fat raindrops splattered against the window panes.

  Lusinda returned to the room, carrying a large pot with potholders. Mia quickly moved to lay one of the towels on the table, so that she could place the pot on the towel.

  The doctor started to reach in the pot when Mia grabbed his arm. He gave her a look of disdain, but said nothing.

  “I’m sorry,” Mia said quietly, releasing his arm, “but you should pour some alcohol on your hands first, before you touch the needle.”

  “I don’t s
ee what good that will do,” the doctor snapped, but he picked up the bottle of whiskey.

  “Here, I’ll hold the bottle,” Mia said, taking it from his hands. “Go over to the washbowl, and I’ll pour some on your hands.”

  The doctor obediently walked to the washbowl and held his hands out, palms up, waiting for her to pour the alcohol. She poured a generous amount into his palms and waited while he rubbed his hands together. When he had finished, she poured a little bit more for good measure, and once again, he rubbed his hands. He squeezed the excess alcohol off of his hands and walked back to the bedside table, fishing the needle out of the pot. He then threaded some horse hair.

  “Are you ready, Benjamin?” the doctor asked.

  Mia moved to Benjamin’s side squeezing between the doctor and the table. She knelt beside him, holding his hand.

  “I am now,” Benjamin answered, squeezing Mia’s hand.

  He gritted his teeth against the pain as the doctor stitched his wounds. Mia was grateful that the doctor worked quickly and efficiently. He wrapped a clean bandage around the wounded flesh.

  The doctor packed his supplies in his bag and turned to Mr. Richards. “He’ll need plenty of bed rest. I’ll be back in a few days to remove the stitches.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Camp.” Mr. Richards shook hands with the doctor.

  “You’re welcome. Take care of him, Alex.”

  “I will,” Mr. Richards answered.

  Matt snapped to life in the corner and moved to the doctor’s side. “I’ll take you home in the carriage, Dr. Camp.”

  “Thank you.”

  They left Benjamin’s bedroom.

  “Abram, Lusinda, I appreciate all of your help this evening. Y’all should go get some rest,” Mr. Richards said.

  “Yessir,” Abram answered. “If you be needing us for anything, anything at all, all you gotta do is holler.”

  “Thank you,” Mr. Richards said, nodding his head in appreciation as he watched them walk out the door.

  Mr. Richards closed the bedroom door. “Benjamin, do you need anything?”

  Benjamin lay still on the bed. “I’m fine, Father. Why don’t you get some sleep, too? Mia can stay with me.”

  “Benjamin…” his father said.