Read A Strange There After Online
Authors: Missy Fleming
Tags: #ghosts, #paranormal, #savannah, #haunted house, #series, #ga, #body swap, #desperation, #paranormal investigator, #ancestor, #alliances, #happily never after, #missy fleming, #savannah shadows, #a strange there after, #dangerous entity, #dark presence, #talk to ghosts
Catherine didn’t answer. She threw the
blankets aside and, weaving a bit, stomped into the adjoining
master bath, slamming the door in her wake.
“She makes Quinn’s stepsisters look like
friggin’ angels,” Abby muttered.
Jason nodded halfheartedly, scanning the room
and passing right over me. “This is so far beyond the realm of
possibility. I...I don’t even know what to think anymore.”
Without another word, he fled. Abby watched
after him, a frown on her lips.
“Don’t worry about Jason, Quinn. It’s a lot
to adjust to. He’ll come around.”
I was beginning to wonder if it were true.
The further I got into this mess, the further I felt from the girl
who’d started falling for him in the first place.
Chapter
Twenty
When Boone didn’t return from outside, I went
to look for him, to make sure he was okay. I worried over the woman
getting to him. Cora. At least some of the pieces were coming
together. I knew who the dark woman was. George’s mama—no—Isaiah’s
mama. I’d never get used to calling him by his real name. And I
didn’t sense him anywhere in the house. Too bad. I didn’t have the
whole story, and he would have been the best bet at finding it
out.
The fresh air felt good. There was just a bit
of a chill this morning. Thick heavy clouds filled the sky. I
sucked in a deep breath, wishing I could smell the promise of rain.
After what just happened, I needed to clear my head. Frightening
temptations and screams continued to linger.
Out in the backyard, Boone was stalking
around the oak that’d come alive a couple days ago with some kind
of equipment. As I got closer, I recognized an electromagnetic
field, or EMF, detector.
“Anything interesting?”
He glanced at me and smiled. “Some residual
EMF near this tree. I have to tell ya, Quinn. I don’t get spooked
often, but this damn thing freaks me out.”
I laughed softly. “I don’t think I’ll ever
look at the yard the same way.”
“It’s a fascinating place.” His voice grew
animated as he motioned me over to the carriage house. “This
building is humming with electromagnetic energy. There’s no power
in here, right?”
Holding the device up, I watched the needle
jump clear over to the right, indicating the highest levels.
“No, no electricity. I planned to make it my
photography studio.”
“Yeah? Photography?”
I lifted a shoulder. “It’s how I stay sane.
The world looks different through a camera lens.”
“It scares me how alike we are.” He cleared
his throat. “Anyway, have you been inside?”
“Not in years.” I thought about it. “To be
honest, as many plans as I have for it, it always slips my mind
until I see it the next time. I wonder if it has something to do
with the terrible twosome and their curse?”
“Wait, what? What curse?”
I filled him in on what I learned upstairs.
“So, Cora, in her dying moments, cast a curse on my family.
Whatever that means. He vows to tell me more soon. I’m not holding
my breath. His cooperation disturbs me.”
“Well, yeah, don’t trust the bad guy. Horror
movie 101.” He inclined his head toward the brick wall of the old
building. “How do we get in?”
“Taking a cue from your horror movie tips,
never go into an abandoned building alone.”
“I’m not alone.” He grinned. “I have you. And
I bet you’re just as interested in what’s in this building as I
am.”
Encouraged by his curiosity, I led him to the
front, where the large double doors would swing open. A heavy
padlock held them shut. The building contained nothing of value,
but staring at it now, I contemplated how true that was. Overcome
with the sensation something bad would happen if I opened those
doors, I lifted my hand, as if to grasp the rusting lock, but did
not move it closer.
“You feel it, too?”
I shot Boone a surprised look. “It’s like
there’s a...a force field around it.”
“Force field? Nice, you’re a dork.” He
studied me appreciatively then, turned back to the doors. “An apt
description, though. Which tells me this place is important.”
He sighed then yanked the left side of the
door open, but the hinges held it in place.
“I suppose you don’t know where the key
is?”
“Nope.” I smirked at him. “I don’t need
one.”
I made to walk through the door, but he
stopped me. I felt the static charge of his hand passing through my
shoulder. When I turned, I saw he was studying me with concern.
“Don’t. You shouldn’t go in there alone.”
“Why not?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure. Just trust
me. Something is off about this place. Besides, I have another spot
to show you.”
Boone had a point. The energy throbbing off
the building felt dirty. There wasn’t really a better way to
describe it. Curiosity played with me, a beckoning smile and a
crooked finger motioning me forward. I buried it and shivered.
Boone was right. I didn’t want to go in there alone.
“Okay. What’s next?”
Relief flooded his features and reaffirmed my
decision. I’d come to trust Boone so if something gave him the
willies I wanted no part of it. He pivoted and led me deeper into
the yard, into the farthest corner. The bushes and trees grew more
wild back here, camouflaging the rotting foundation of the old
slave’s quarters. Soon we couldn’t even see the house. Crazily
enough, this location made me much more uncomfortable than the
carriage house.
“This is where Cora comes from...when I see
her.”
Boone glanced over his shoulder in surprise.
“I guess that explains what I found.”
He knelt in the tall grass, waving his EMF
detector over the ground in front of him. It squealed as the needle
shot over to the highest reading. Crouching beside him, reached
out, using my hand as my instrument.
“It’s colder here.”
“Yeah, I noticed that earlier. Check this
out.”
He brushed aside some dead leaves and dirt to
reveal a small stone.
“Is that what I think it is?” I gasped.
“Because you’re brilliant, like me, I know
you’re already thinking gravestone.”
I leaned forward, examining the marker
closer, brushing more debris away. A strong, negative energy
emitted from the stone, coating my hand with an icy film. The edges
were rounded, as if carved, the entire thing barely bigger than a
dinner plate. There were words, or symbols, but time had worn them
almost completely away. The longer we lingered here, the more my
dread increased.
“It belongs to Cora,” I declared.
“How can you know for sure? I mean, it was my
guess too, but it’s impossible to read the inscription.”
I sat back on my haunches, trying to wipe the
coldness from my palms. “Both times I’ve seen her out here she
comes from this area. The slaves lived here. Either way, I just
know.”
“You should not be out here. Are you two
asking for trouble?”
Boone and I spun only to find Jackson staring
at us as if we were the dumbest people he’d ever met.
Standing, Boone asked, “Who’s buried
here?”
Jackson hesitated, so I rose as well, adding
my own inquiry. “Tell us what happened. Stop pretending you don’t
know.”
“
No matter how hard I try to stay out
of the matters of your family, it doesn’t seem to be in my
destiny.” He sighed deeply. “Can we at least move away from
here?”
I nodded, and we followed him closer to the
house. A light rain began to fall and Boone huddled as close as he
could to the building. Neither Jackson nor I really felt it. I
shifted impatiently from foot to foot until Jackson started
speaking.
“This was already an old story by the time I
became friends with Nathaniel and courted Catherine. Amos Roberts,
their grandfather, used the carriage house to have his way with his
slaves. I never heard for certain, but apparently he was quite
violent with them, and everyone just turned their heads. One night,
according to rumor, things went a little too far, and a woman
fought back.”
“Cora,” I whispered.
“Yes, the boy’s mother. It was well known she
was a priestess of what you now call voodoo. No one knows for
certain what really happened, but she and her son died. Other
slaves told tales of hearing terrible noises coming from the old
stables that night, dark angry voices, too deep to be human. Amos,
he was never the same. He lost his mind, always murmuring about
shadows and curses. The few times I saw him, he was withered,
broken, mad. He found comfort at the plantation, away from this
house. Nobody believed it, refused to consider the religions of the
slaves were that powerful.”
“A curse or spell done at the moment of death
is the strongest magic there is,” Boone said. “That’s why
sacrifices are so crucial in so many cultures. It reaches through
the veil, or whatever you’d call it, and brings darkness from the
other side.”
“So Cora crossed over and brought something
back with her?”
“It’d be my guess.”
Jackson considered Boone then added, “I have
to agree. I’ve seen enough over the years, as hard as I’ve tried
not to, to recognize this is as close to the truth as we can get
without confirmation.”
“Maybe not,” I said. “This loa said he came
through as a result of whatever spell she did in her dying moments.
She brought him here.”
“And things have never been the same since,”
Jackson confirmed.
We fell into silence, save for the rhythmic
pattering of rain around us. Slowly, the puzzle pieces were
beginning to fill in. No wonder there’d been so much tragedy
surrounding my house. The woman who’d started it all was buried
right under a neglected peach tree. Broken and vengeful, what else
did she have but to torment my family?
Chapter
Twenty-One
Arms crossed, I stared Boone down, ignoring
how uncomfortable Jason looked. Abby fidgeted on the couch,
practically bouncing up and down with excitement. Catherine perched
in the corner, giving herself a pedicure, only offering her pithy
comments when the mood stirred her.
After Boone filled them in on the events of
the morning, shock took over. Even Catherine, who claimed she
didn’t know what resided in the carriage house. I didn’t believe
her. Not only was she sneaky and conniving, but guilt shone in the
depths of her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Boone said. “But I really don’t
think a séance is the way to go.”
“There may be other spirits hanging around
who can talk to us.” Abby glared at him. “We have to find out
more.”
“That’s what you have me for.”
“Please,” my friend snorted. “Like they can
get past your giant ego.”
“We don’t know what we’re dealing with,”
Boone continued to argue. “Do you think opening up a door into
something we don’t understand is smart? In a house with a backyard
full of horrors?”
Abby paled. “Point taken.”
“Not saying it’s a bad idea. It just doesn’t
seem smart to do it here.”
“We wouldn’t have to if
she
helped,”
Jason added.
Sighing, Catherine screwed the cap on her
nail polish and flipped her braid over her shoulder. She stood and
folded her arms across her chest.
“Any hope I had of getting out of this house
and city alive is evaporating second by second. Either way, I’m
screwed.” She pursed her lips. “I can try to share information, but
I’m not responsible for how angry he gets when I do.”
“I know you’re scared,” I said.
She glared at me. “We’re not going to bond
over this, so get the ridiculous notion out of your head.”
Well, that took the wind out of my sails.
Determined not to let her see me pout, I stiffened my spine and
said, “Like I’d want to bond with you.”
Abby sniggered and mock-elbowed me in the
ribs. To Catherine, she asked, “How are you going to help us?”
“I can give you a name.”
Everyone waited. We should’ve been used to
her not elaborating. She continuously left us hanging, but we all
stood there, waiting, like morons.
Finally, Boone inched closer to her and
prodded her, “A name?”
“Sure, handsome.” She flashed him a brilliant
smile. “You’ve all been wondering what Cora called forth. I
know.”
“Well?”
“Forget it, Abby. She won’t give us
anything,” Jason said as he leapt off the couch and glared at
Catherine. “Quit playing games.”
She merely tilted her head to the side and
said, “Kalfu.”
None of us had a chance to react to the name.
The entire house shuddered, nearly knocking everyone off their
feet. Creaks and groans exploded around us, and I worried the old
building would implode. Floorboards rattled, dust drifted from the
ceiling and a deep guttural moan surrounded us. Pictures and vases
crashed down, shattering and adding to the din.
As quick as it started, the disturbance
stopped. I glanced around to make sure nobody was hurt. My heart
stuttered as my gaze landed on Jason, protecting Catherine from
falling objects, shielding her. Too late, he noticed what he was
doing and shoved her away, stalking over to the fireplace.
“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say it’s a
valid name.”
I laughed at Boone, and he shot me a relieved
smile.
“Quinn laughed at that, didn’t she?” Abby
asked, offering a grin of her own. “It’s the kind of bad joke she
enjoys.”
“Bad joke?”
“It wasn’t good,” I teased him.
“And you could have done better?” he shot
back.
“How can you guys be so cavalier about this?
Did you not just witness what I did?”
We all fell silent at Jason’s outburst. He
stared at us as if we’d lost our minds. And, at this point, maybe
we had. I was close. There was only so much gloom and doom a girl
could handle.
“What else are we supposed to do?” I asked,
knowing full well he wouldn’t hear me. “I have to stay positive and
light-hearted. It’s the only way I’ll get through this.”