Ghouls Gone Wild (6 page)

Gone was the damp air and its chilly temperature. It had been replaced by a soft breeze that brought the sweet fragrance of fresh-cut grass and springtime flowers to my nose. “Where am I?” I mumbled, and put my hand to my mouth. “Oh, great,” I muttered. “My lip is bleeding.”

“You’re lucky that’s the only thing bleeding,” said a gentle male voice that startled me.

I realized there was an old man with a long mane of silver hair wearing a white linen tunic and matching pants standing right in front of me. “Holy freakballs!” I exclaimed. “Where did you come from?”

The old guy laughed. “Me?” he said casually. “I’ve been here all along. The question is, M. J., where did
you
come from?”

I looked around. “You might be right.” I tried to stand up, but my knee hurt something fierce and my elbow was throbbing. Still, it seemed rude to sit while the older man stood.

“Stay where you are,” he said gently when he saw me trying to get to my feet. “I’ll sit and we’ll have a talk.”

A blanket with a beautiful Southwestern pattern appeared underneath me, and the old man sat down next to me, also leaning against the trunk of the tree. “That was cool,” I told him, referring to the blanket.

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve,” he said with a wink.

“So . . . not to be rude,” I began, “but
who
are you, anyway?”

That won me a chuckle. The old guy reached out his hand and said formally, “I am Samuel Whitefeather.”

I took his hand and eyed him curiously. “Any relation to a friend of mine named Heath Whitefeather?”

Samuel nodded. “My grandson.”

I could see the small resemblance in the nose and maybe around the eyes. “Heath’s a great guy,” I told him truthfully.

“Yes, he is,” he said proudly. “I was glad to see him partner up with such a talented spirit talker as yourself. Although, why you two want to go meddling around in foreign lands dealing with evil like that . . . well, I just don’t understand.”

I wiped my sore eye gingerly and managed to open it a fraction. “ ‘Evil like that’?” I asked. “You mean the bully that just whacked me with the broom?”

“Exactly like that,” Samuel said gravely. “She’s a wicked one, M. J. You and Heath are going to have to watch each other’s backs.”

I rolled up my pant leg to inspect my knee. There was a long gash in it and the beginnings of a pretty good bruise. I blew on it and said, “Want to let me know who we’re dealing with?”

“The Witch of Queen’s Close,” Samuel told me. “In life she went by the name Rigella. That’s important,” he added. “Remember that names have power.”

“’Kay,” I said, not really knowing where all this was leading.

Samuel regarded me critically for a long moment, and I felt like I was somehow coming up short. “You’ll need help,” he said. “From the Spirit World.”

“Don’t tell me you’re volunteering,” I said, only half-joking.

“I don’t know that I have much of a choice. Rigella’s way out of your league, kiddo. And she’s up to something.”

“What’s she up to?”

“Something bad. Vengeance.”

“Vengeance? For what and against whom?”

But Samuel only looked up at the sun, which was quickly sinking on the horizon, before he reached into the folds of his white tunic and pulled out a small charm with a green crystal. He leaned forward and secured this around my neck before he said, “Do your homework. You’ll find out soon enough. In the meantime, you’ll want to get some peroxide on that knee.”

I shook my head. Samuel wasn’t making much sense. “Some perox—” and that was as far as I got. There was some sort of a snapping noise, and all of a sudden I felt a strong tug backward. The next thing I knew I was sitting up in bed, Wendell stirring near my lap right before a pounding sounded on my door.

 

 

 

The person making all the racket was Gilley. He and Heath had come to my room to fetch me for dinner. But the moment I opened my door, they both took a step back and sucked in a breath. “What the hell happened to you?!” Gil demanded.

I blinked hard at him, and when I did, I felt a soreness around my eye. “I was sleeping.”

Gil reached out and put a finger under my chin, inspecting my face. “Okay, Mr. Tyson, while you were sleeping, did you go a few rounds with the lamp or the bedpost?”

My own hand flew to my face. I could feel the heat coming off my left cheek and my eye was definitely puffy. I turned and walked back into the room, and as I did so, I could feel my knee throb—something I hadn’t noticed when I’d bolted out of bed to get the door. “This can’t be real,” I said, moving quickly to the mirror. But the evidence was right there in my own reflection. My cheek was red and swollen, as was my eye, and there was a small cut on my puffy lip.

Gingerly I pulled up my pant leg to reveal my knee, which was bruised and marred by a small gash. “M. J.?” Heath said, coming around to stand right next to me. “What happened?”

I sat down in a nearby chair and Wendell whimpered from the bed. Gil moved over to pick him up and sit him in his lap. “Tell us,” he said gently.

I shook my head. I had no idea how to explain it, and the fact that I’d encountered something on the astral plane that had injured my physical body was really blowing my mind. I glanced up at Heath and decided to start from the beginning. “You know about astraling, right? Having out-of-body experiences?”

Heath nodded. “I have OBEs all the time,” he said.

“Have you ever been hurt or injured on the astral plane?” I asked. “I mean, have you ever encountered anything evil that maybe took a swipe at you?”

Heath cocked his head to the side curiously. “No,” he said. “The worst thing that ever happened to me was that I got stuck half in my body, half out, and I got so sick that when I finally managed to get myself back into my physical body, I threw up.”

I nodded. I’d had a few similar experiences myself. “M. J.,” Gil said from the bed. “Are you telling us that you just had an OBE and something on the astral plane
hurt
you?”

I looked meaningfully at him. “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” I said. And then I went on to explain that the Witch of Queen’s Close had given me a wallop with her broom.

“But how could that hurt your
physical
body?” Gilley said. “Don’t OBEs happen in a completely different dimension? I mean, that’s why they’re called
out of body
, right?”

Heath and I exchanged a look. I knew he understood. “It’s not totally unheard of,” he said. “There are recorded instances of people being injured on the astral plane and when they come back here, they’ve got the physical evidence to prove it. But the power needed to cause you real injury would be tremendous.”

“It would be,” I agreed. “And it was.” I then chronicled my experience by telling them about my encounter with Heath’s grandfather.

When I began describing him, Heath exclaimed, “That’s totally him!” I smiled and continued my story, telling Gilley and Heath everything Samuel had said.

“Whoa,” Gil said when I was done. “That is too cool.”

“So Gramps is gonna help us?”

I nodded. “He said we’d need some backup. I guess this Rigella woman is really bad news.”

“What do you think he meant by, ‘She’s out for vengeance’?” Gilley wondered.

I shrugged. “I’ve no idea. But my guess is that it’s nothing good. Gil, can you do some digging into this witch and see what you can come up with?”

“I’m on it,” he said. “But first, let’s see about getting you cleaned up, okay?”

“Gil’s right,” Heath said, eyeing my shin. “That cut’s going to need some peroxide.” I looked at him in surprise and laughed. “What’s so funny?”

“Your grandfather said the exact same thing.”

Heath grinned. “He was big on peroxide. Used to keep a big jug of it under the bathroom sink, which was smart because I was always getting banged up on the reservation.”

As Heath turned to the door, I called him back for a moment, “We’re also going to need to check into some charms.”

“Charms?” said Gil. “What kind of charms?”

“I won’t know until I see it, but Heath’s grandfather gave me one when we sat together. It had a specific design and the moment he placed it around my neck, I felt safer. I think it was a message. We’ll need to arm ourselves before we risk going into those caverns.”

Heath and Gilley exchanged an uncomfortable look. “It’s six thirty, M. J.,” Gil said. “All the local shops are pretty much closed.”

“Okay,” I said. “Then we’ll hit them first thing in the morning.”

“Gopher wanted us to start filming tonight,” Gil reminded me.

I took that in for a minute. “Crap.”

“We can see if he’d be willing to postpone it,” Heath suggested.

I looked to Gilley, who seemed doubtful. “We’re on a really tight schedule,” he said. “But maybe we could stall a little by insisting we do a baseline of the caverns first?”

“That’s a good idea,” I told him, getting up to rummage around in my suitcase. I kept a bottle of prescription-strength ibuprofen handy in case I had a bad case of cramps, and my head was starting to hurt enough to warrant popping one now. After downing one of the pills with a little water, I said, “We should also load up on the magnetic spikes while we set up the still cameras and meters. If we’re armed, nothing should bother us tonight.”

“Great,” Gil said, getting up off the bed and handing me Wendell. “You sit tight. I’ll go clear it with Gopher, and Heath can see about getting you some first aid.”

Several hours later, Gil, Heath, and I and the rest of the crew were standing at the entrance to one of the creepiest-looking caverns I’ve ever seen. And it was even more unsettling because it so closely resembled the one from my OBE.

We were standing in the cavern that ran directly under Briar Road, and at least there was one good thing about it—Heath and I weren’t feeling the distress of all those burned souls from above. Still, the place didn’t feel pleasant. It felt oppressive.

We’d had to descend two separate sets of stairs to reach this underground web of tunnels, caverns, and corridors, and even though I had meditated for an hour beforehand, coating my aura with a form of reflective and protective energy, I still felt the goose bumps rise along my arms. Next to me, I heard Gilley audibly gulp. “Ick,” he said. “This place is ick.”

I completely agreed. “It makes the haunted houses on our side of the pond seem like an amusement park, huh?”

“It’s just so intense!” Heath said. “I mean, it’s like radiating something bad from every crevice.”

I was fully conscious of the fact that there was a camera recording our reactions, and I wondered what the viewing audience would think about these not-so-brave ghostbusters standing frozen in fear at the entrance to a simple underground tunnel. “Okay, boys and girls,” I said, trying hard to keep the quiver out of my voice. “Let’s get this party started.”

Heath and I stepped forward alone, and when we’d gone a few paces, we both realized that no one was following. I turned to look over my shoulder and I saw every member of the crew holding fast to his position. “Gil?” I called.

Gil’s eyes were wide with fear. “I don’t wanna go in there,” he admitted.

“You’ve got your sweatshirt on,” I reassured, referring to his specially made sweatshirt with glued-on magnets from the cuffs to the collar. “Nothing can come near you while you’re wearing that.”

Gil’s eyes continued to stare wildly at me. “Uhuh,” he said, shaking his head no. “I think I’ll head back to the van and set up the equipment from there. I’ll record and monitor your progress where it’s safe.”

I felt a smile pull at the corners of my lips. Gilley was scared to death of things that went bump in the night—and for good reason. He’d seen a lot of crazy spooky stuff over the years, and he’d never grown comfortable with chasing after the ghoulies. He preferred the safety and comfort of a ghost-free zone—like our van back home or the one we’d rented here. “Okay, Gil,” I conceded. “But the rest of you are coming with us, right?”

I directed my comment specifically at Gopher, who also appeared rooted to the spot. Jake and Russ looked at Gopher as if waiting for him to order them forward, and after a minute’s silent contemplation, he did. “Um, yeah,” he said. “Yes. Let’s go, guys.”

Reluctantly, our sound and camera crew followed their producer and together the five of us entered the close.

I kept my sixth sense wide-open, with one hand on a canister that held a magnetized metal stake. We call these grenades, because their effect on grounded spirits is rather explosive.

When a powerful magnet is introduced into the electromagnetic field of a ghost’s energy, it can severely alter that energy and make it impossible for the spook to stick around. The magnetic spikes act like a blaring fire alarm amped up one hundred decibels, and they make it exceptionally uncomfortable for any grounded spirit to continue to occupy the area. The minute the canister is opened, the electromagnetic frequency changes and the ghosts typically flee.