The October People (Gulf Coast Paranormal Extra Book 1) Page 7

  Sherman growled; it was a low, menacing growl. My mouth went dry as I stared into the growing darkness at the face of the boy…or what pretended to be a boy. He didn’t move except his head, which rolled slightly as if it weren’t quite connected to his neck properly. Or was he reminding me of the picture?

  “Ollie? Do you plan to kill me?” I asked without thinking. Why would I ask such a question?

  He immediately turned away from me and headed to the top of the staircase without answering my question or offering any further acknowledgement. And there wasn’t a sound in the place. No wind, no music, no skittering of rodents across the floor. I gripped the leash and the recorder and walked slowly toward the staircase.

  This is why you’re here, Jocelyn. Get the evidence. Stay focused. Don’t hype yourself up.

  Somewhere below me a door slammed, but that was the extent of the noise. Yes, it was quiet in here, too quiet. Sherman didn’t make a sound except for his toenails on the grungy floor.

  “Down the stairs now. We’ve got this, boy,” I whispered as quietly as I could, an impossible task with the current echo level. With an unsure whimper, Sherman descended with me, and now I had mixed emotions. What was I doing bringing this poor dog here? The Leaf Academy was no place for a pet. Yep, I was a horrible parent. Maybe I should go. I was sure Adrian would understand if I explained the situation to her.

  While I reasoned with my cowardly self, I caught a glimpse of something just below us. It was a pile of feathers, black feathers! They were in a triangular formation, deliberately placed where I could find them. As Sherman and I paused on the step, I could hear the song playing. That definitely had a record player feel to it.

  Remember that you’re mine, sweetheart

  Goodnight, my love, your mommy is kneeling beside you

  Goodnight, my love, to dreamland the sandman will guide you

  Come now, you sleepyhead, close your eyes and go to bed

  My precious sleepyhead, you mustn’t play peek-a-boo

  “I don’t know what games you’re playing, Ollie, but I’m not yours. And the only person who can call me Mommy is this dog. What do you want? Why are you hanging around here at the Leaf Academy?” I couldn’t see him anymore, but I felt a presence—an angry, hateful presence—very near me.

  Suddenly I was being shoved to the ground. A pair of small hands hit me in the lower back. Sherman scrambled away from me, and I lost my grip on his leash. I yelled for him as he ran toward the auditorium barking like a madman.

  “Sherman!” I shouted as I got up as quickly as I could. I knew without looking that I’d broken my camera. I took it off my neck and set it on the ground while I dusted myself off. And he was there again.

  The boy Hugh McCandlish called Ollie. He was a ghost boy, wasn’t he? He smiled as if he heard my thoughts, as if he liked my wondering. He vanished as Sherman’s desperate barking echoed through the bottom floor.

  And then the furry white animal came yelping back to me. “Oh, thank God! What did I tell you, boy? Stay close to me! Are you okay?” I hugged him up as the door at the end of the hall slammed again. I rubbed the debris off my dog and waved at a persistent gnat that buzzed in my ear.

  Glancing down both sides of the hall, I couldn’t see much. Meager light filtered through a few slits in the boards but beyond that nothing. How in God’s name was it this dark in here? I dug out my flashlight and waved it around. With each pass of the beam I saw shadows move, like they were living things eager to remain hidden.

  Yeah, you know why, Jocelyn Graves. Non timebo mala.

  I dug out my digital recorder. Sure, that Ollie-boy wanted me in that auditorium, but there was something here, an insistent presence I could not ignore. I wasn’t running into that auditorium half-cocked. I was doing this investigation my way. If I let fear get the best of me, I would be giving all my power over to Ollie or that weirdo Gary Holloway. Strange that I would have such a thought. Was I sensing Gary near? I wasn’t one to have sensitivities like that, not above the normal. And again that gnat buzzed in my ear. Or was that a mosquito? Either way, it was doing its level best to find a home in my ear. I swatted furiously as I kept Sherman close.

  “Who is here with me? I know I am not alone. Tell me your name.”

  Sherman scratched himself as he panted; his full attention was on the end of the hall. All the sounds had stopped except for the horrible bug that was testing my fortitude. I swatted at it again and took a few steps toward the auditorium. Maybe I should go in there now. No sense in waiting until midnight. It was going to get lively tonight, I could tell. I stepped closer, but Sherman wasn’t happy about that. I paused to listen.

  No sound at all in there. Just the occasional flapping of wings.

  Oh, God! What if it was full of crows? I hadn’t seen any earlier, but that was before Ollie showed up. Collect the evidence, Jocelyn. Keep a level head.

  I scanned back the audio on my digital recorder but didn’t hear anything. May as well try again. “I know you’re here. Can you tell me your name? Are you related to the boy, the one they call Ollie?” I waited a few seconds before turning it off.

  The frantic buzzing stopped as I scanned the file back. I could hear myself, but there was someone else there too! Someone was communicating with me. I turned the volume up and scanned it back again. I didn’t need audio software to pick that out.

  Not a boy.

  “Hugh? Hugh McCandlish? Is it you I am speaking to?” I squatted down to pet Sherman as I spun around on the balls of my feet to keep watch over my shoulder. I had the sensation that someone intended to get the drop on me, and I’d already been pushed down that last step. At least it wasn’t the top step, but I didn’t want to be surprised again. I scanned back the recording, but there was nothing else to hear. Nothing except Sherman’s panting and my fear-filled voice.

  A lighter clicked behind me, and I sprang to my feet. Gary Holloway? Cigarette smoke drifted in my direction, but Gary himself did not appear. I yelled as Sherman wrapped his leash around me. The cigarette smoke hovered in the air like a living thing, fluttered toward me and then dissipated into thin air.

  “Gary Holloway? Is that you?”

  But it wasn’t Gary Holloway that manifested in the hallway. It was someone else, a tall man with a wild red beard and wide, terror-filled eyes. Before I could call out or say another word, he was walking toward me. And then through me! Cold like I’d never felt before covered me—no, it filled me. I felt a bit wobbly, kind of sick as I watched in horror as the tall, spindly man walked down the dark corridor. Although he never acknowledged me or spoke a word, I knew his name.

  I was looking at the ghost of Hugh McCandlish!

  And there was light coming from the auditorium.

  And I was going in.

  Chapter Thirteen—Hugh

  My feet felt like two blocks of wood. They were so heavy that it took great force to lift them, but I continued on. It was as if my body did not want to go, but my heart would not allow me to turn back. Ollie was a prisoner of whatever darkness called the Leaf Academy home. It was an old darkness, to be sure, one I should have believed in, but it was too late now. Too late to go back and change the direction of my life, to change my plans. The faces around me had all but vanished, yet I heard a great ocean of whispering. With my hands covering my ears, I sobbed like a child as I stepped into the auditorium.

  And there was Ollie, standing in the center of the stage, a helpless expression on his face. My feet felt free now, so I ran to the stage ignoring the slithering shadows around me. I hadn’t forgotten that snakelike creature, the one with the scaly arms that had grabbed him so cruelly. “Ollie! Come here!”

  And then I saw it—the creature! It was tall, taller than me. It was all black with scaly skin, like a dragon’s skin, and its yellow eyes were focused on me. I saw Ollie’s eyes widen as if he knew it was right behind him but he did not dare look. “Help me,” I heard him whisper, but how could that be? His mouth didn’t move. And his eyes�
��they were so dark. Ollie? Was this really Ollie LeFlore or something pretending to be him?

  “McCandlish! Please, stop!”

  “Headmaster? Thank God! Help me!” I thought I was speaking coherently, but my words came out as so much babbling. I turned back to reach for the boy, and he was gone. The black creature with the scaly skin crawled toward me; it was at the very edge of the stage. It could pounce on me at any moment. No! Those weren’t just scales but also feathers! What in the name of God was this thing?

  The headmaster raced toward me and gripped me by the shoulders. “What have you done? Have you accepted a gift from it? A feather, perhaps, or a stone? Tell me, Hugh.”

  I wanted very much to tell him that yes, I had found a feather and that he should help Ollie, but I couldn’t make the words come out. Invisible hands were around my throat, choking me.

  And then before my eyes the headmaster flew across the room and landed on the stage. The creature had vanished, but Ollie was there. And in his hands was a black feather. He walked to the headmaster, who was crying out in pain, and held it out to him. Clearly Ollie wanted him to take the feather, but the headmaster turned his back to him. His arm must have been broken for it was at a strange angle. The headmaster was crying—no, he was praying. It was in Latin. I knew that phrase. What was it? Oh yes, fear no evil. I will fear no evil. I closed my eyes and repeated the prayer.

  But it was too late for me. I had accepted the feather. I had accepted his gift. I watched with great sadness as the headmaster slid off the stage and made his way out of the auditorium. He would not die, although he was badly hurt.

  But me? I would certainly die. Unless I gave him what he wanted. He was leaning down over me now. His face changed from Ollie to the black creature. They were one and the same. I understood it now. The hands no longer choked me, but they held me down. What a horrible sight! And then it was the boy again with that familiar sad look on his face.

  You promised. You said we would leave here. Take me. Let us go and you will live.

  With all my might I wanted to live, to have a life and a family and a son. A good son. But I would have none of those things. I would never be the one to let this thing loose upon the world. Never.

  I didn’t have to say a word. It knew what I was thinking. With a rage-filled scream, it lighted on me and then I was no more.

  Chapter Fourteen—Jocelyn

  I pushed the door open easily enough. And unlike the first time I entered the room, it didn’t make a sound. That’s weird, I thought as I stepped inside the massive room. Sherman wasn’t eager to join me, but I held the door open and he followed me inside. The auditorium wasn’t any more appealing than it was before. There were rows of chairs upended, plaster from the ceiling and walls had fallen on the floor, and the holes in the exterior wall gave me a great view of the overgrown backyard. Yeah, this place was certainly atmospheric. I shook away thoughts of zombies crawling through the breaches.

  Sherman barked and paced the aisle; his black nose was to the ground and waving back and forth as if he’d caught a whiff of something. “Sherman, stay close,” I whispered as I squatted down to pet him. Immediately my eyes fell on the feather in front of me. This specimen was much shinier and larger than the other ones I’d found on the property. What kind of bird shed that thing? Not a crow. Couldn’t be. Could a raven get that big? Maybe an owl? I’d never seen a black owl before. As I reached out to grab it, Sherman intercepted me, snapped up the feather and ran out of the auditorium. I was on my feet thinking to chase him when the door slammed between us. My dog began to bark frantically like he wanted me to know I was in trouble.

  As if I didn’t already know that. Yeah, I was in trouble. Big trouble. I turned out to face whoever it was that stood behind me.

  I had heard no footsteps, yet I knew someone was there. Someone who didn’t want me to leave. “Who’s there?”

  There was a boy, the one I’d captured on my camera earlier. “Ollie?” Fear crept into my bones as I asked the question. I wasn’t one to run at the first sign of a spirit or a ghost, but this wasn’t anything ordinary. Yeah, this wasn’t your run-of-the-mill apparition. His dark eyes bored into mine. He hated me, that’s what he wanted me to know. He hated me down to my bones. Why didn’t I accept this present? He’d left it for me.

  Where did that thought come from?

  Sherman stopped barking, and I stepped back and away from the ghost. And as if there were truly a bird flying overhead, another feather floated down in front of me. It hovered in front of my face a few seconds before it fluttered to the ground. The boy stepped closer to me, his eyes not on me now but on the feather.

  Take it. It’s yours.

  The boy’s young voice filled my mind even though I did not see his mouth move. His hand was outstretched toward the feather. This was a gift from him, a gift of friendship. He wanted to be my friend, a special friend, but I had to accept his gift first. All his friends accepted gifts from him. I wouldn’t be the first or the last, but I would be oh so special.

  I couldn’t think of anything I wanted less than to accept a gift from this entity. And then it dawned on me—this thing was offering me a gift because it wanted something in return. But what? This was beyond a residual imprint, and no way was this a run-of-the-mill intelligent haunt; I’d never met anything like this before. My investigator’s mind raced through the catalog. What was I looking at? This ghost wanted me to enter a covenant with him.

  Uh, no thanks. I took a step back. I shook my head no. The boy’s face changed completely. Instead of a pale, doe-eyed boy with a shock of dark hair, I was looking at a horrible monster, a wraith with a skeletal face and a hand that reached for me.

  Sherman barked furiously now, and I eased back, unsure of my footing. The floor felt weird, kind of spongy. I forgot all about my investigator’s mindset and my digital recorder. I glanced down and could see that I was standing in a pile of feathers. Oh, God! What is this? I looked back up to see that Ollie wasn’t alone now. There were others, including Gary Holloway and a dead lady in a red dress. I was backing away faster now. I didn’t dare turn my back on the growing crowd of spirits. Some I couldn’t see, but I could certainly feel them. What the hell?

  Hell is right, I heard a voice say mockingly inside my head. Was that Gary Holloway?

  I reached for the door, but it wouldn’t open. I had to turn around and take my eyes off the spirits. I had to put my full attention on getting it to move. “Come on! Come on!” I muttered, trying to stop myself from screaming my head off. I glanced over my shoulder as I banged on the door. Sherman barked up a storm, and I threw my shoulder into the effort to get the door open. Ollie was so close to me that I could almost hear him breathing. How was that possible? Ghosts didn’t breathe. With a final bang and a savage kick with my boot, the door opened and Sherman shot through the open door to me.

  “No, Sherman!” I yelled at him, praying that he wasn’t going to get in a fight with this…whatever it was. “We have to go!” Piano music filled the auditorium, but there was no piano, only a rubble pile of keys and wood where a piano once stood. The music was loud, too loud to be just from a piano. The notes made no sense; it was merely angry noise, frightening, terrifying. I scooped up Sherman and leaped over another feather. I can’t touch it! I can’t even touch it! Sherman barked continuously as I headed toward the front door.

  “Oh, God!” I’d locked the door! The key! I reached around my neck and discovered it was gone. No! Come on, give me a break! What was I going to do now? There was nothing to do except face the music. I put Sherman down, and together we raced up the stairs. Maybe I took the necklace off up here? The horrible music still echoed from the auditorium, and now there were growls that accompanied it. Oh no! The boy stood at the top of the stairs.

  I froze as Sherman whined beside me. The boy held out his hand and offered me a feather. “Take it. It’s yours,” he said with a sweet smile. I could hear him with my ears now.

  “Too late, Ollie. I know
what you really are,” I said aloud.

  “Do you?” he asked as the feather floated toward me.

  I couldn’t go up the stairs and get past him. I’d have to find another way out. Sherman was thinking ahead of me, apparently. I could hear his toenails clicking on the gritty floor below. I didn’t hesitate either. I raced after him, praying that he could find a way out before this creature caught up with me. How many times could I refuse?

  Sherman was running full speed down the corridor on the opposite side of the auditorium. There weren’t any doors down here, were there? “Sherman!” I yelled, but the dog didn’t wait for me.

  Thanks a lot, boy.

  I tripped once and landed face first on the ground but didn’t break anything. My face felt dirty, and my eyes were having difficulty adjusting to the growing darkness. As I got up, I felt metal near my fingers. Oh, God! How did my key get down here? Yes! This was my leather necklace! I grabbed it as I hurried to my feet and tore down the corridor ignoring the feeling that things were following me, that they were piling out of the rooms ready to set upon me like wolves on a scared rabbit. That’s me, a scared rabbit!

  Sherman! You better wait for me, I thought with hot tears on my cheeks. I found him in a dirty room full of antique desks and chairs piled haphazardly atop one another. He hadn’t been looking for a way out; he was looking for a place to hide!

  “Come on, boy. It’s okay. It’s me.” He whimpered and cowered under a desk. Why would he do that? I glanced over my shoulder as a shadow passed the doorway. Cautiously, I turned my head slightly, not absolutely sure that I wanted to see.

  Please don’t let this be Ollie.

  It wasn’t. I caught a quick glimpse of an unhappy face and knew it belonged to Hugh McCandlish! It must have been Hugh who had left the key where I could find it. But then he was gone. “We have to go, Sherman. We can’t stay here another minute.” I picked him up, and thankfully he didn’t fight me.