S.P.I.R.I.T (9 page)

Get out of my house.
It said softly, a small female voice picked up in my ear.
Who are you? What are you doing in my house?

“Hello?” I whispered, turning in a circle, trying to pinpoint where the voice was coming from, but it was distant and I didn’t believe that it was in the home that I stood in.

What are you doing in here? Get out! Who are you!
The terrified woman’s voice screamed in my head.

My knees gave out from underneath me, as I clutched my hands over my ears. Pain vibrated through my mind as the woman’s unending screams penetrated the mental block that I had put up. I could feel Zander close by, his pulse reverberating through the small house as he rushed to my side, no doubt feeling the anguish that I was in.

I looked up at him, the fire burning behind my eyes, and I tried everything to swallow. Silence filled the air as her screams abruptly stopped, and I lowered my hands from where they pressed against me. Zander gazed into my eyes, unsure of what to do next, and slowly he reached out to take my arm. I shook my head, confused as to what had just happened and blinked several times to hold back the tears.

“She’s dead,” I whispered, shaking as I spoke, my eyes not completely clear as I looked up at him. “Whoever she was, they killed her.”

“Sam, are you sure?” He questioned, and watched as I nodded.

“They were sending me her dying thoughts, wanting me to know that they knew I was able to hear them.”

“I’m going to contact Everett.” He sighed, stroking my hair. “This might take more than just you and I to figure out.” I glanced away, swallowing as I rubbed my eyes. “Sam, if they’re this powerful, we can’t do it alone.”

“I know.” I hesitated, taking his hand as he sat on the floor and watched me shake.

It took what seemed like only minutes for the cavalry to arrive. Walters, the stocky one, and Harris, who I found out was the one that had called me lady and Zander had told to ‘screw you’, sat down at the table as I tried to concentrate on cooking the sauce that was bubbling in the pot. I could feel their eyes on me, watching my backside, for I felt like I was stuffed into the blue jeans and tee shirt that I wore.

If your friends don’t cut the shit, I’m going to throw boiling sauce in their eyes!
I snarled, catching Zander’s attention as he sat with Everett, looking over maps.

I felt him come closer, so close in fact that his pulse swirled up my spine and I straightened as I looked out the window near the stove. I heard him clear his throat, and looking through his eyes I watched the expressions of the two men as he glared at them. Slowly, their eyes lowered and looked away, and then he reached back and brushed my leg with his hand, before walking back over to Everett.

I’m not encouraging their behavior, Sam, but I can see what they were looking at.
He spoke to me, a smile in his voice.

You are allowed to stare at my ass, they aren’t!
I answered, turning to look at him from under the fall of my bangs where they hung over my eyes.

Good enough!
he replied and looked down at the map once again.

I emptied the water out of the noodles, and then mixed in the sauce. After the meal was prepared, I scooped out at plate for myself and one for Zander, which I brought over and handed to him. Then I got comfortable under a blanket where I dug into my plate. After a few moments of silence, I looked up at the other pairs of eyes that had focused on me while I sat, enjoying my food.

“What?” I snapped, and they all made an uneasy movement when I connected with their eyes. “I’m not your freaking mother, get your own food!”

Zander choked on the mouthful that he was chewing and covered his mouth with his fist as he recovered, and then he noticed that those eyes had shifted to him. He sat up straight and glanced around.

“You heard the woman, chow time, help yourselves,” he ordered and smiled in my direction. Everett looked back and forth between us, then shook his head and went back to looking at the maps.

After the warm food was settled in my belly, I curled up under the blanket and closed my eyes, letting sleep wash over me. However, my dreams were not pleasant as reminders of my childhood flooded into my mind.

I ran through the woods, fearing whatever was behind me, knowing instinctively that I wasn’t alone. I could hear the wails of the dead voices that followed me, and I pressed faster through the overgrown vines. It was as if they were controlled by the foul sounds of the creatures behind me. No truly tormented soul could make that noise, and I knew that I was in trouble.

My father had sent me out on a mission, to find a certain herb, one that was only found deep in the snarled woodland behind our house. I had gotten lost, miscounting my footsteps as I moved through the marshes and paths that littered the mountainside, and night had descended on the valley, blocking out the moonlight.

Vines snagged my clothing, pulling in every direction as I struggled against them and I turned in time to see a flash of what I thought was a monster from a movie. He was old and decrepit, but his hands reached out, tipped with claws and his mouth gapped open, fangs protruding from every tooth. I screamed, my heart racing, and I turned to break off the dried branches that held me. My breathing quickened as the creature approached rapidly, and suddenly a sharp, searing pain racked through my body. I could feel the tingle of his claws, three of them as they dug into the skin on my back.

I turned quickly, concentrating on where I had last seen the demon and felt the fire rise behind my eyes. It screamed in agony as it was set ablaze, the stench filling my lungs. With one last desperate effort, it lunged at me. A bright red flash of light blocked out its attack and the scream that escaped my lips.

I sat up quickly, hyperventilating as I scanned the room around me. Zander was at my side, staring into my wandering eyes as I heard the Captain barking orders at a young Spanish man who was trying to douse the flames that licked at the hems of the curtains.

I swallowed hard, bringing my breathing down as my heart rate dropped back to normal, and Zander’s hands came up to cup my face. He didn’t even need to ask. I could tell by the look in his brown eyes that he had seen everything I experienced. He licked his dry lips before speaking.

“Don’t be, we had buckets ready as soon as I told them that you had pulled me into your memories. I expected a flare up when I saw just what you were experiencing.” He grinned, as if to tell me that everything was going to be fine, but I shook my head and watched the light fade out of his eyes. “We found out something that I think you need to know.”

9

I moved closer to the maps that were spread out on the coffee table and was about to ask just what I was looking at, when I noticed the similarities between the two of them. Zander looked up as I scratched my chin and sat down on the comfortable couch. He pointed to the one furthest to my left and sighed.

“Wilton, Vermont,” he pronounced, but I had already known that, and reached over tapping on the one to my right.

“And this cozy little town in Colorado,” I sighed and shook my head. “They shouldn’t be so much alike.”

“They’re not alike.” The tall man with the glasses spoke softly, squatting down on the other side of the coffee table. “Private first class Daniels,” he introduced himself before continuing. “They’re identical; in mileage, form, the number of people, the number of acreage. Everything is exactly the same.”

“How is that possible? How can there be two Wiltons so many miles apart?” I questioned and watched as the men around me glanced at one another. “What? What else could there possibly be?”

“Every road is the same, Sam, every road,” Zander pointed out and I sat back slowly as his words hit home.

“Miller’s Point.” My words almost didn’t register in the ears of the men around me, but I watched Zander nod. My body shook, my fingers suddenly grew cold, and I breathed in deeply. “The house, is it there?”

The young Spanish man, Rodriguez, turned and dropped black and white surveillance photographs on the table in front of me. I leaned forward to look at the three-story, run-down Victorian home that stood surrounded by large trees. I shook my head. It was just as I remembered it the last time I set foot in the building almost four years ago. It was even aging the same as my parent’s home.

“What does this mean?” I questioned, staring down at the house, running my fingers over the doorway.

“It means that there is more going on here than just an old pastor in a haunted church,” Everett replied, placing the cigar in his mouth once again.

“I wonder something,” Harris spoke up and I waited for a sarcastic comment. “If the house is here and the street and everything are alike, I wonder if the people are the same.”

“Wait,” I whispered, looking over at Zander. “You said they investigated my house. The one I grew up in?”

“It said that it was the one on Miller’s Point.” But, he seemed to catch my afterthoughts and shook his head. “Could he have had the wrong house? What if the fact that there might be two of them, no that there are two of them, is what’s causing the shift in the balance?”

“That would be why I heard the voices. What if they were coming through as just voices there, but actually physical manifestations here?” I whispered, more to myself than anyone else.

“Voices?” the Captain questioned as he glanced between the two of us.

“Sam can hear them,” Zander replied.

“The connection between the two of you just grows and grows, doesn’t it?” He moaned and rolled his eyes. “One fire, one electric, one with visual communication, one with audio, is there anything else that might explain what’s going on here? Is there any other way that the two of you are connected?”

“Listen, in old mythology there was talk about a portal not only between worlds, but between places. Sister Townships that held similarities that no one else did,” I answered, glancing down at the pictures in front of me. “What if, because of our connection, the fact that Zander was in trouble in a place that was linked to our childhood brought us here?”

“When were you in trouble, sir?” Daniels questioned. Zander shook his head and stared directly at me, dismissing the question.

“What if because of the unusual reaction to one another when we were kids, we passed on pieces of ourselves to the other?” I watched the storm brew in his eyes as his brows arched together. “What if that portal brought me here?”

“But you’re a ghost hunter.” I smiled, glancing at him, silencing him for the moment. Zander shook his head. “Listen, I don’t think she was at that place, at that instant, I think I was brought to that point and that place because that’s where Zander was. As far as where the other one went, I have no idea, but I know one thing. The answers for everything going on here are at that house on Miller’s Point.”

I stood as I breathed in deeply and moved, grabbing the coat that Zander had left on the chair, and I made my way outside. The night was in full swing, the moon hanging high in the sky above the trees that surrounded the small house, and I couldn’t help but look up at the cloudless night.

The door opened and closed silently, but I felt the telltale pulse before he even spoke a word. “That was very brave of you.”

“I was shaking in my shoes the entire time,” I replied, continuing to look up at the stars. “The one place in the world that I never thought I could step back into is the only place I can go to answer the questions pounding through my head.”

“They don’t really need to be answered, Sam,” he whispered, and I turned to look at him.

“What if she’s out there, caught between worlds, floating in some sort of abyss because I’m standing in her place? What if it’s worse and she’s in Wilton, trying to figure out just what the hell happened to her?” I questioned, staring at his profile as he surveyed the land before us.

“And what if she knows nothing of what’s going on, because her world seems just as outrageous and strange as it did when she left here, so nothing is alarming her?” He sighed, and turned to face me. “Better yet, what if ‘she’ doesn’t exist at all, and you are the only one of you that does?”

“A different explanation for why I appeared when I did?” I smiled and nodded. “Wouldn’t that be lovely?”

His hand took mine and brought my fingers to his lips, brushing warmly against them as he looked over it at me. “You came to me because I was in danger; you came because of our connection. The clothes don’t matter, Sam, maybe it was your mind dressing you differently, although I would love to think of you charging to my rescue in ducky pajamas.”