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Authors: Tess Oliver

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BOOK: Bitterroot Crossing
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    I pulled up next to him and revved it a few times to choke the cold out of it and to show him I was serious. “Get on, Dad.”

    He hesitated only for a second then hopped on. It was sluggish with both of us on board, but it gave us a chance to shine our flashlights down some dark alleys and into dark corners. Aside from a dog pulling trash out of a can and an owl perched on a street light, the streets were empty.

    There were no lights on in the label factory and the blue barrels of glue that normally stood in the yard were gone. The owner must have decided to roll the rest of his barrels inside, out of the reach of ghosts. Dad and I got off the bike and walked to the chain link fence surrounding the factory.

    We shined our flashlights into the darkness. “Baxter!” I yelled out a couple of times but there was no response. I was not surprised. I knew we were wasting our time on this side of town. What really bugged me was that we were letting valuable time slip by giving those dead jerks time to hurt Baxter or worse. I could only imagine how scared he would be right now.

    So much of this was my fault. I should have just let Jessie alone from the start. She obviously had no real feelings for me. And that thought twisted my stomach into a painful knot. I was totally crazy about the girl.

    A clanging sound startled Dad and me. We pointed our flashlights in the direction of the noise. A raccoon scurried out from behind the trash bin carrying a piece of foil in its mouth.

    We relaxed our shoulders. “They aren’t going to be out here, Dad. I always have a weird feeling when these guys are near. It’s like I’ve developed some kind of ghost radar or something.” Coincidentally, the cold air sent a sharp pain through my bruised ribs and I rubbed my side. “These guys have been harassing me all week. Ever since I started hanging out with Jessie.”

    “That sure is a pretty little girl, that Jessie. I guess it’s easy to see why her great-great-grandma caused such a stir in town.”

    “Jessie’s causing a pretty big stir herself.” I switched off the flashlight and returned to my bike.

    Dad stood for a moment staring into the empty factory yard. He looked deep in thought and sorrow washed over his face.

    “Dad?”

    He shook his head and stared down at the ground. “I’ve been an awful heel. I don’t know how your mom can ever forgive me. Or you and Bobby for that matter. It’s just, without a job, I’ve felt so incredibly useless.”

    “Mom loves you. We all do. And you’ll get a job again. You’ll see.”

    He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and I swallowed back the lump in my throat. I’d never seen my dad cry. Ever.

    “Come on, Dad. Let’s check out the dump. And I can tell you this, if they’ve laid one hand on Baxter, I’m going to tear those fucking ghosts to shreds.” I fired up my bike. Dad climbed on back, and we sped off toward the dump.

    There were lots of places to hide at the dump but aside from the two guard dogs that nearly gave us both a heart attack when we approached the fence, the place was quiet.

    We stared down at the dogs who barked ferociously at us from behind the fence for a good five minutes before getting bored and leaving.

    “What do you suppose they’re here to protect? The garbage?” Dad asked.

    “Does seem stupid to have guard dogs at a dump. But, like they say, one man’s garbage is another man’s treasure.” A breeze carried a rancid odor across the vast piles of junk. “This place smells so bad, it would be hard to smell swamp ghouls even if they were floating around in there. But they’re not.”

    We shined our flashlights through the fence for a few minutes. The only movement we saw were the rats who had no doubt thought they‘d died and gone to heaven when they found this place.

    “Let’s go, Dad. We’re wasting our time here. Let’s hope the others have had some luck. I know Baxter really well, and if they haven’t found him yet, he’s going to be close to a major breakdown.”

    About half of the search crew hovered around the sheriff’s car with thermoses of hot coffee. No one had had any luck. Then Mr. Mitchell ran up. “The dogs are on to something,” he said between gasps of air. “Fielding just phoned me. They’re at the park.”

    The park was only several blocks away. We all raced on foot toward it. We could hear the dogs barking wildly before we reached it. I beat everyone else there. Sheriff Fielding was standing beneath the giant cypress tree, the same tree Baxter had climbed the last time the ghosts hassled him. Fielding was shining his light through the tree branches, squinting at something above.

    I walked up next to him and peered up. A tiny piece of cloth was stuck on the branch above our heads. It had been from Baxter’s shirt. It was what the dogs smelled.

    The others reached us.

    “We found something, Mitchell. Looks like a piece of Baxter’s shirt. They’ve been here.”

    “Sheriff, I hate to burst a bubble here, but that piece of shirt has been up there for a week.”

    Fielding scowled at me. “And how would you know that?” Now suspicion filled his expression. “Unless you had something to do with all this, Crush.”

    Dad stepped forward. “Don’t go accusing my son of something just because you can’t find the boy.”

    I stepped between them. “The gang chased Baxter up this tree the other night.” I looked at Mr. Mitchell. “Remember the night he was late coming home with his skateboard?”

    Mr. Mitchell nodded but was still too upset to speak.

    “I found Baxter in this tree. The ghosts were teasing him. I got him down and sent him home.” Now I looked at Dad. “That’s when I found out that the fire extinguisher could break apart their particles. At least, temporarily.”

    “Well, it’s still a clue as far as I’m concerned,” Sheriff Fielding said.

    “Fine, then,” I said, “you keep looking around in the park.” I walked away.

    “Nick, where are you going?” Dad called.

    “I’m going to find Baxter,” I yelled into the air without looking back.

 

 

Chapter 28

 

    I’d finally fallen into a deep sleep only to be woken by Jasper growling at something outside my window. I squinted at the dog through the darkness. He growled again. “Jasper, quiet. Come back to bed.” Something scraped across the pane sending Anna under the covers and Jasper under the bed. “Some watchdog you are.” I threw off my covers, walked to the window, and pulled back the curtain.

    Two yellowish eyes met mine in the glass. A scream lodged in my throat as I dropped the curtain and stumbled backward, tripping over the end of my bed and landing on the floor. My body shook from head to toe. The horrid fog had returned, and I was more than certain that the terrifying pair of eyes staring back at me belonged to Crow.

    I jumped up and pulled my sweater on over my pajamas. I had no idea what was going on outside, but if there was trouble, I didn’t want to be caught in flimsy, sheep print pajamas. I ran into the hall and was just about to wake Nana when she came out of her room with an her antique pistol waving in the air as if she was off to battle. Her eyes were wide with fear, and she had pulled on a coat and boots.

    I grabbed the arm that was waving the pistol. “Nana, what are you doing?”

    “They’re out there, that gang of no-good demons are out in the yard.”

    Gently, I lifted the pistol from her fingers and put it back on her dresser. “They’re already dead, Nana. Your pistol won’t be much use. Besides, they can’t come inside remember?” I motioned for her to follow me to the living room. We each peeked through a side of the heavy drapes covering the front window. Aside from the fog, which had taken on an eerie green tint in the faint moonlight, the yard looked empty. Then something scraped and thumped across the roof. It sounded horrible as if someone was dragging a limp body over the shingles.

    “What could that be?” Nana asked, her voice cracking in fear.

    Then something flew past the window where I stood. It looked very much like a body. I gasped and shut the curtains. “What was it, Jessie?”

    “I don’t know. I was too scared to look.” I took a deep breath, steadied my hands, and lifted the curtain. My heart raced. It looked very much like a human form lying in the dirt. I peered at it for a moment then sunk back with relief. “It’s only Paul McCartney.”

    Nana grabbed the top of her robe and her eyes nearly popped from her head.

    “The scarecrow, Nana, not the rock star.”

    “Oh, of course.” She dropped her hands and her shoulders relaxed, but a loud clanging sound brought them up again. I looked out. Axel and Crow were throwing the hood of our old tractor back and forth like a pair of kids playing toss. Apparently Axel had pulled his ghastly halves back together.

    “I think they’re just here to annoy us, Nana. I don’t think they mean any harm.” My words were said to reassure her. She was trembling terribly and her face was snow white. Unfortunately, I knew they were here for more than just some ghostly pranks. They were up to something wicked. I just wasn’t sure what yet.

    The clanging outside had stopped. Everything fell into a horrid silence. The only sound we could hear was Nana’s mantle clock and our own rapid breathing.

    A bit of color came back into Nana’s cheeks. “Do you think they’ve gone?”

    “We can only hope,” I said just as a violent gust of wind hit the house making the entire place shake. Nana and I grabbed each other.

    Bursts of what felt like gale force winds pelted the house every few seconds. Clinging tightly to each other, we scooted away from the window in case it gave way.

    “This house has stood through some mighty fierce storms. I’m sure it can handle anything these phantoms have to dish out,” Nana said weakly.

    “I wish Zedekiah would come,” I said.

    “Zedekiah? Why he probably put them up to this.”

    “No, Nana, you’re wrong. He and the rest of the Crush Gang parted ways before they were hung. They hate him and he hates them.”

    “Is that so? Well, who would have guessed that?”

    Suddenly a long drawn out howl seemed to circle the house and find its way down our chimney. Some of the ashes puffed up as if an invisible foot had stepped in them. The sound repeated itself but this time it ended in a whisper. “Come out, little girl.”

    The sound came again and again with the same whispering tone at the end that made the hair stand up on my arms and neck. “Come out, little Jessie.”

    Nana held me tighter. Then the foulest sounding peals of laughter rolled across the yard. I had to nearly pry Nana off of me to take another look outside. “Nana, I’m safe inside here. I just want to see what they’re up to. Axel and Crow appeared to still be alone outside. The others, including Zedekiah, were nowhere in sight. They jumped around the field like two teenage boys pulling up the dry grass and forest litter. The entire time, their sickening laughter echoed off the side of the house.   

    “What are they doing,” Nana asked standing back from the window.

    I dropped the curtain and shook my head. “Who knows? From what I can tell they are just picking grass.” Nana’s face looked smooth and pale as marble. I walked back over and picked up her hands. They were freezing.  “We’ll be fine, Nana. Don’t worry.”   

    “I’m not just worried for us, Jessie. This whole town is done for if they continue these wretched pranks.” Her voice got shaky and tears filled her eyes. “I’ve lived here my whole life. So have you, Jessie. I love this mountain.”

    “I know you do, and I know how we can send them away.”

BOOK: Bitterroot Crossing
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