The Cornelius Saga Series (All 15 Books): The Ultimate Adventure-packed Supernatural Thriller Collection

by Tanya R. Taylor

  "This is private property, Wade. We can't just go exploring," Mira replied, thinking how slow her brother really was. After all, the large, lop-sided NO TRESPASSING sign sprayed in red was clearly visible on the fence.

  "You're gonna let an old NO TRESPASSING sign stop you from walking through here? Have you ever seen the owners out here? Have you ever seen anyone out here?"

  Mira was quiet.

  "Right! That's because no one ever comes here. The place is abandoned. What's wrong with a couple of kids just walking through a vacant property with a bunch of tall trees and bushes on it? What can we possibly do to hurt the land?" Wade said sarcastically. "Come on, Sis. It'll be fun. We can pretend that we're real explorers or something."

  Mira was hesitant whenever Wade presented ideas that could possibly get them into trouble. Then again… those types of ideas were the only ones he ever seemed to come up with. "What about the fish?"

  "What about it?" Wade was puzzled.

  "We have to fry it before Dad and Mom gets back home."

  Wade looked at Mira in disbelief. "Why are you so darn scary, girl? How long do you think they've been gone? It's only been a few hours. Last I knew, they got off work in the evening and then there's traffic. It's barely noon yet."

  "How do you know what time it is?" Mira asked. "You don't have a watch."

  "I can estimate the time, Mira. Can't you, smarty pants?"

  Mira shoved the bag of fruit at him. "Here then! You carry this." And she slowly headed out into the wooded area.

  As they walked along a narrow trail, the children were fascinated by the size of the property. Trees of every kind imaginable seemed to inhabit it—pine, mangoes, bananas, avocadoes, plum, ginep. Wade and Mira stopped and picked what they wanted, adding them to the bag, and the apprehension Mira had initially felt about their so-called exploration had soon disappeared.

  "This is great," she said sucking on a plum.

  "Awesome!" Wade agreed. "I feel like we're in the jungle or something. How long do you think it'll take us to walk the whole perimeter?"

  Mira looked at him incredulously. "Are you out of your mind?" Do you think I'm gonna walk this entire property? I hear the Fergusons' land is more than a few miles long."

  "I didn't mean we should walk the whole thing today. I was asking how long you think it would take us if we decided to," Wade explained.

  "I don't know… maybe an hour or two." Then her eyes were suddenly affixed to a large house that they never knew was there. "Hey, look there!" Mira pointed straight ahead.

  "Wow! That's huge!" Wade exclaimed, almost in slow motion. With heightened curiosity, he started running toward it.

  "Wait up!" Mira shouted, careful to do so in a lowered voice as she had no idea who or what might be inside. "Don't go in there without me!"

  However, old and dilapidated with broken windows showcased along the whole front view, the house was breathtaking.

  Wade climbed the colonial-style porch, stopping just about a foot away from the front door. The only thing is… there was no door—just a ten foot opening where there, most likely, used to be double doors.

  Wade looked inside. Grimy white tiles covered the entire front area as far as he could see.

  Mira climbed the porch moments later. "Do you see anything?" She asked softly, feeling a bit of apprehension gradually returning.

  "No," Wade whispered. "Is anyone in here?" He called out hoping not to receive an answer.

  They stood quietly, both decidedly ready to take off in an instant if they heard even a crack. They waited for a few seconds… nothing. Then Wade said, in not so much of a whisper anymore, "Let's go in."

  Mira grasped his arm. He was just eleven months older than she was, but in a case like that where they were entering the unknown, he could have very well been ten years older and fifty pounds heavier as she knew 'come hell or high water', he would protect her.

  Before stepping inside, Wade looked at her, "You mind letting up a bit? You're squeezing my arm."

  "Oh sorry," Mira replied nervously.

  They walked inside together—eyes darting in all directions of the spacious interior. The white paint on the wall was chipped in several places and the dusty floor had been speckled with creature droppings and smudges of dirt and mud. There was no furniture in sight—just a large, empty space. Wade and Mira walked slowly ahead and entered a room that looked like an extension of the living room, only separated by an arched wall.

  "Hello…" Wade called out again.

  "Is anyone here?" Mira said behind him, voice breaking at the end.

  They proceeded through the large front area then entered what looked like the kitchen. There was one row of cabinets still attached to the upper northern section of the wall with a few missing doors. Some doors were slanted due to rusty, broken hinges. There were three other sections of the wall where only the imprint of cabinets remained presenting a theory to the observer that they might have been cleanly extracted at some point by thieves.

  "This place is a mess," Mira uttered, still holding her brother's arm.

  "Yeah. You notice that just about every door around here is missing?"

  "Yeah."

  "Let's go upstairs," Wade released Mira's grip. "Follow me."

  "No way! You know I'm afraid of heights!" Mira whispered loudly.

  "Just hold on to the rail. You'll be fine," Wade replied before heading up the long winding staircase.

  Feeling that she would rather be with him than downstairs alone in the old, creepy house that resembled something from a horror flick, she took a deep breath in and decided to follow him. The ceiling of the house was extremely tall and as Mira carefully followed Wade up the stairs, she couldn't help but wonder how the owners ever managed to change a light bulb up there whenever necessary. As they climbed the staircase, the wood beneath their feet creaked and Mira had no idea how she would ever get back down.

  They made it to the second landing and refusing at that point to look down over the rail, Mira trailed closely behind Wade who had entered one of the bedrooms.

  "Wow! This room is huge!" Wade remarked, hurrying over to a large window on the western side of the room. "Hee, hee!" He laughed looking down at the yard. "The second floor of this house must be at least a hundred feet from the ground!"

  Mira quietly advanced toward the entrance of what looked like the walk-in closet. As she looked in, something immediately caught her eye. The floating image of a black woman was at the far end of the room. The apparition appeared relatively young with frazzled, black hair that hung tiredly just above her shoulders. Her face, rough and haggard, exuded a sadness that Mira could feel deep within her bones, and the thin, white dress the woman wore was drenched in what appeared to be blood around the mid-section where long trails of it had slid down to the end. Momentarily frozen by the sight of this woman, Mira's mouth hung open, yet no voice escaped. The woman's veiny eyes seemed to be begging, pleading… for something. Then her hand reached up toward Mira, re-enforcing what the little girl already felt was a cry for help. At that point, a blood-curdling scream escaped Mira's lungs and she darted outside of the room—Wade running behind her.

  With a fear of heights that paled in comparison to what she saw in that room, before Mira knew it, she was at the bottom of the staircase and out of the house.

  "What's wrong?" Wade called out to her in the yard. "Wait for me, Mira!"

  She had run a good distance away from the house before even thinking of stopping.

  "Tell me what's wrong!" Wade insisted after catching up to her. "I never saw you run that fast in my life."

  "I know I shouldn't have listened to you, Wade. You're a jerk! We never should have come here," Mira blasted, walking hurriedly.

  "What did I do?" Wade was confused.

  "I don't wanna talk about it right now. I just wanna go home."

  While darting out of the house, Wade had dropped the bag of fruits they had collected. The children walked home together without saying anoth
er word. Wade knew that he had to get to the bottom of what happened in that house; Mira was not going to fold up on him as she sometimes did. After all, he felt responsible for her and now guilty that she had been so traumatized by something that in spite of her fear of heights, she had run down a tall flight of stairs without giving it a second thought.

  After arriving home, Mira went straight to her room and slammed the door. Wade went to the door and knocked lightly. "Mira… what happened back there?" He tried to turn the doorknob, but discovered it was locked. "Open up. I wanna talk to you."

  "Go away!" Mira yelled.

  With head hung low and feeling worse by the second, Wade asked: "What about the fish? Aren't we gonna fry it before Mom and Dad get back?"

  "I don't care. Do what you want with it!" Mira replied.

  "Why do you have to be like this? Why can't you just tell me what happened, Mira? You say I'm immature, but you're the immature one!"

  Wade waited for a response, but didn't get one, so he went into the kitchen to prepare the fish. After scaling and seasoning their catch, he walked around to the side of the house, made an outdoor fire like he and Mira had done so many times and placed a tin frying pan on top of the heap. As the oil heated inside the pan, Wade sat on one of the two large rocks close by, elbow under chin, thinking of how good their day had been and how it ended up. He felt terrible for Mira and wished she didn't get in those quiet moods sometimes, thus closing herself off to the world. She didn't realize that whenever she did that, he felt completely lost.

  After the oil came to a slight boil, he put the fish in the pan and watched as swarms of flies suddenly appeared out of nowhere around it. Shooing them away, Wade refused to go inside and cook on the stove: He and Mira had established something special together out there frying their catch on the make-shift stove and no army of flies was going to change that.

  After turning the fish over with a spatula, Wade looked up and saw Mira approaching. She went and sat down on the other large rock near the fire. Wade, elated that his sister had decided to join him, showed no reaction.

  "The fish looks good," Mira said, looking at her brother.

  Unable to hold back any longer, Wade asked: "What happened in that house, Mira? Why did you leave like that?"

  Mira looked down for a moment. "I'm not sure. I thought… I saw something."

  "Saw what?" Wade probed, curiosity in over-drive.

  "I saw a woman, okay?" Mira decided to just get it out in spite of how crazy it might sound. "She was wearing a long, white dress—looked old fashioned to me—and it was covered in blood."

  Wade gawked. "Are you serious?"

  "'Course, I'm serious!" Mira snapped. "You think I would've took off like that for nothing?"

  "Where was she?"

  "In the closet."

  "What was she doing?"

  "Just standing there," Mira replied. "She seemed so sad. Well, I'm not going back there anymore. I don't care about dillies or anything else. I'm never going back on that property."

  "I wonder why she's there." Wade was engrossed in thought.

  "So you believe me?" Mira asked, feeling hopeful.

  "Sure, I do. I know you'd never make something like that up. Besides, from the way you took off down those stairs, you had to see something." He laughed.

  Mira smiled, then laughed out loud. Wade jumped on that opportunity to tease her as they sat and waited for their fish to cook.

  3

  _________________

  The next day…

  "Mister Cullen, could I get your signature, please?" Hollie Jefferson, the new executive secretary asked Michael on his way to the cafeteria. Hollie was twenty-five years old, had bleached-red, shoulder-length, curly hair and was stunning in appearance. Her bright, brown eyes had an intensity to them that most men found difficult to ignore.

  "Sure, Hollie. What's this for?" Michael asked.

  "Just a memo listing the minutes of the meeting this morning that the Board agreed we should circulate to the staff."

  "I don't usually sign the memos. Are you sure you need me to sign this one?"

  "Yes, sir. I have to get Mister Bridges' and Andy's as well," Hollie replied.

  "Okay. No problem. You have to do what you have to do, right?" Michael smiled, fixing his stare a little longer than usual. Hollie smiled back as he pulled up a pen attached to his shirt pocket and signed the document.

  "Thank you, sir," she said.

  "You're welcome, Hollie." Michael started to leave, then glanced at his watch and said: "Ah… Hollie. I'm on my way to the caf to grab a cup of coffee. Would you like to join me?"

  Hollie was surprised. As a young, newcomer to the Gaming Board, she never expected an older executive to show even the slightest bit of interest in her. She almost thought she would be invisible to the high-powered players since there were so many more established, well-educated, attractive women there. But then again, Hollie figured that her thoughts might be running way ahead of her: Maybe Michael's invitation to sit and have coffee was nothing more than a courtesy gesture for a newcomer. After all, he did wear his wedding ring every day.

  "I would love to… Mister Cullen, but I have to get these memos sorted out," she replied.

  "Come on…" Michael returned. "Those memos aren't going to run away. You have a fifteen minute coffee break at mid-morning. Use it."

  She bit her lip for a second. "Okay, let's go then."

  They took an elevator to the fourth floor and as they headed for a table, Michael went up ahead and pulled out a chair for Hollie.

  "Thank you," she said, sitting down.

  "I'll go and grab the coffee. Sugar and cream?" He asked.

  "Yes. Two sugars please," Hollie replied appreciatively.

  Michael returned minutes later with two cups of coffee in hand and carefully handed one to her. "So how are you liking it here?" He asked after sitting down and taking his first sip.

  "I'm loving it so far," Hollie replied. "It's nice working with Mister Bridges."

  "Dwight's cool. He's been at The Board for about thirty years or so. Did you know that?"

  "No, sir. He didn't mention it." Hollie stirred her coffee.

  "I met him here. He kind of showed me the ropes when I first arrived," Michael said.

  "I see. So, how long have you been working here?"

  "Only twenty-two years," Michael answered.

  "Wow! I guess I've got a long way to go. My three months seem like nothing compared to the time you two put in."

  "The years fly by quickly," Michael replied. "It feels like I've only just pulled up on the job yesterday for the first time. That's how fast time flies."

  For a few moments, Michael and Hollie sat quietly sipping the coffee that had soon turned warm.

  "So, are you married?" Michael asked, breaking the silence.

  Just then, Hollie's feminine radar immediately went up. She was now convinced that her initial thoughts concerning Michael's invitation were, indeed, correct. Most, if not all men—in her opinion—who asked if she was married, were interested in being more than friends.

  She cleared her throat. "Um… no." She held her head down, stirring the coffee again.

  "What're you waiting for?" Michael asked with a cunning expression he could not hide.

  "For the right time, I guess… and also, the right guy. Haven't come across Prince Charming as yet."

  "An attractive girl like you should have men making fools out of themselves just to be with you. What're you doing to drive them away?"

  "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Men today aren't that serious about commitment. They don't know what they want, who they want or how they want it. All they know is they want," she replied rather boldly, noticing his gold wedding band again.

  "Well, I agree with you to a certain extent. Many of us are just mixed up on the whole and then some of us know exactly what we want in life, but settle for what we have already without pursuing what we'd prefer. You know what I mean?" He commented.

>   "I think I do." Their eyes met and in that stare, there was no denial. Hollie knew why she was sitting at that table with Michael Cullen—a man with a powerfully confident demeanor and a physique that could make a woman's mind wander off in the wrong direction.

  "Well, I think we'd better go now," she was looking at her watch. "It's 10:30. Wouldn't want to get in trouble with Mister Bridges."

  They both got up together.

  "Ah… don't worry about Dwight. He doesn't sweat the light stuff," Michael said.

  "I know, but I'm still new on the job and I want to continue to give a good impression."

  "I understand," Michael replied, and after entering the elevator together, he looked at her and asked: "So how about lunch sometime?"

  "I… guess so," Hollie responded, figuring there was no harm having an innocent lunch with a fellow co-worker regardless of his intentions.

  "Okay. Great!"

  At the parting of the doors, they went in separate directions; Michael walking on with a smile and Hollie with uncertainty.

  * * * *

  "Why does this cooler smell like… fish?" Sara asked after opening the lid in the kitchen. She had just gotten home from work several minutes earlier and wanted to get dinner started before Michael arrived. It had been the same routine for years: She would knock off at 4:00 and hurry home so that dinner would be cooked by the time he arrived which was usually between 5:45 and 6:00pm. Sara was grateful to have always been on a fixed schedule at work for most of her marriage when many nurses she knew worked shifts. With Michael in mind, she took the job at Freedom Hospital ten years earlier making it clear that she could not work shifts and whenever they tried to force her, she would threaten to quit. Apart from taking to her, Gwen Dames, Sara's superior, considered her one of their most gifted nurses at the hospital and didn't want to run the risk of losing her.

  "Fish?" Mira returned, glancing at Wade who was sitting next to her at the counter.