A Strange There After by Missy Fleming Page A

happened. I
hadn’t drawn a real breath in weeks. Instead, my lungs cried out
for release. As I fought, pulling and scratching at the heavy wood,
my fingernails tore, and tears streamed down my cheeks.
    You must learn your life is over. Your
family is over. They will not hurt anyone again.
    “H-how?” I intended to ask her how the
Roberts hurt her, but speaking was impossible.
    My only reply was her continuing laugher. The
branches squeezed, tighter. I couldn’t move, the pain too great, as
the agony of slow suffocation consumed me. Black dots filled my
vision, and my head grew lighter and lighter. Could I die if I was
nothing more than a spirit?
    Then, from the darkness, I sensed another
presence. The man.
    Leave the girl alone, he ordered.
    The spirit-infested tree hesitated. Suddenly,
all the suffering and lack of air vanished as a blast of energy
exploded around us. I heard the woman cry, and the tree’s grip
loosened. Emptiness overwhelmed me, as well as the realization I
was falling. I prepared for the bone shattering impact, but it
never came. Just the slightest sensation of touching soft grass. A
lingering trace of pressure remained on my chest, and I
instinctively sucked in air. Jackson was at my side, helping me to
my feet. Tenderly, I touched my cheek and startled when I felt a
scab. I had already begun healing.
    “Did that really happen?” he asked.
    I saved you as a reminder not to listen to
what everyone says. I do not want to harm you. Quite the contrary.
Helping you is my only intention. We’ll talk again, Miss
Roberts.
    “Is someone there?” The question caused
Jackson and me to flinch.
    Spinning, I came face-to-face with Abby, her
wide eyes filled with a mixture of fright and awe, staring at a
spot past my shoulder. A large pack was slung over her shoulder,
and I recognized it as the one we always brought on our paranormal
investigations. Relief hit me hard, harder than the now silent tree
did, and I rushed toward her.
    Boone stood behind her, staring at the tree
with a slack jaw. He wore a black t-shirt tonight, and part of a
tattoo peeked from under the sleeve. My fingers itched to lift the
material and see what it was. It looked like wings of some kind,
maybe a skull. He caught my gaze, his eyes concerned behind his
glasses, and pushed past Abby.
    “The tree?”
    His voice trembled in shock, but I got the
gist of his question. “Yeah, it came alive. Ow.”
    I flexed my neck, and he gaped at me.
    “Jesus, how can it hurt you?” Even though the
marks had almost faded, I imagined they were nasty.
    “Is she okay?” Abby’s shrill tone interrupted
us. “How did the tree move?”
    “Quinn is fine. Well, her neck is all
scratched up, like it tried to strangle her.” He fixed me with a
dark glare. “Why didn’t you tell us it had gotten this bad?”
    “It wasn’t, not really. I, uh, might have
ticked her off.”
    “Her? This Catherine person or something
else? I’m lost.”
    “Well, if you would have shown up sooner, I
might have been able to fill you in,” I grumbled.
    “Sorry if we had problems finding mention of
anything remotely close to what’s happened to you.”
    “Stop! Both of you. I can’t follow a
one-sided conversation.” Abby’s shout drew a smirk from Boone.
“She’s my best friend. Is there any way to include me, or am I
destined to be a decoration?”
    “I’m sure you know of a way,” I said
sarcastically to Boone.
    He considered this for a minute then reached
into his messenger bag. He brought out a fancy digital recorder and
a pair of headphones. Switching it on, he handed it to her.
    “Listen to this as we talk. I’ve done it
before, a live EVP session. Quinn is stronger than most ghosts, so
you should hear her pretty well.” He glanced at the eerily quiet
yard. “Can we go inside? We watched your doppelganger leave a while
ago, so it should be all clear. But I’m not too keen on staying
back here.”
    “Big bad Boone Ravenwood is scared?” I