The Spirit of the South, part 2

a Team: Wildfire story
by Thom Thetford, all rights reserved

I drifted, for how long I can not say. All I know is that I was in a quiet place where I was at peace, but the peace troubled me. So here I floated, alone in a dark, a peaceful yet troubling fog. Yes, peace. I focused on that and drifted farther into the depths.

“Patrick!” came a voice out of the fog. “Wake up, Patrick!”

No, I don’t want to wake up, can’t they see I am at peace finally? Leave me be! Let me drift off stage.

Pain, sharp and distinct, with the pain came a crack of skin on skin, like someone being slapped.

“Don’t you dare leave me here, you bastard! Wake up, damn you” followed by another slap. My head lurched sharply to the side. I was the one being slapped and now I felt the pain instead of noting it in a peacefully detached manner. And I knew that voice, Edith, my beautiful technology angel. I hear the stress in your voice, almost to tears. That was wrong, she would not cry.

“John, stop the van! He is coming too.” Said a not Edith voice.

He is? Why is he not awake? Can’t he see how peaceful it is here? Pain again, and again my head is twisted to the other side.

“Pat, can you hear me? Wake up, please wake up…” Edith said again, her voice drifting away in a veil of despair.

“Edie, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” I managed to speak with a voice that creaked like an old man. “And who let John drive? I thought you wanted me to live.”

With a great sigh of relief, suddenly I was being hugged while still strapped into the bench of our RV. I heard the engine roar dull to a low rumble and finally a low idle as our breakneck speed was finally ground to a halt as we pulled over to the side of the road.

“Oh, yeah, he’s back.” I heard from the driver’s seat.

My body felt like it was a hundred years old and my mind began to force its way out from the black, warm silence that was my unconsciousness. Counting the voices I had heard, I accounted for everyone except for one, Rebecca.

“Where’s Rebecca?”

“Knocked out, near death and he still keeps track of us,” came Peter’s voice from his spot in the back of the van. “She’s back here with me.”

“After we got you in the van,” Edith started, “she was supposed to be the last one in, but she stopped at the door and screamed. We found her lying just outside the door. We thought it might be what attacked you, but that thing high-tailed it for the building when we got there.”

“How is she doing?” I asked.

“Physically she seems okay, her vital signs are steady, but it’s almost like her mind snapped.” Edith continued.

“So, where are we now?” I had tried to sit up and look out the window. At least the window was my goal. I found that my body was as sore as my mind. I had managed to get my body upright, as I glanced out the window, I saw a parking lot, with the ocean in the distance.

There were heavy foot steps as John came back from the driver’s seat. “I parked us at some mall; Edgewater is the name of the place.” Edgewater Mall, I knew the place from years ago. The mall was just down the highway from Beauvoir, about a mile or so, I had not been out for long. It just felt like an eternity; time to catch the team up on current state of affairs. “It would seem that your timing is as impeccable as ever.” I nodded in John’s direction. “How long was I out, then?”

“We had just pulled up when we saw you fighting that ghostly thing.” said Peter, moving forward from his seat in the back of the RV. “It was a good thing we decided to push it a little to get here. I know you didn’t expect us for another hour or so.”

I turned in his direction, “How is Rebecca?”

“She seems to be recovering, her vitals are strong and brain waves are back to normal, too. She seems to be just sleeping now.” He replied, taking a seat towards the back, well away from any technical devices.

Settling down in his seat, John asked, “So, what’s the op, Top?”

“Well for starters, let me catch you up on my vacation. I had been visiting a few of the tourist traps in Biloxi when I overheard someone talking about the deaths at Beauvoir.” I could hear Edith typing away at her console, as I started. John had a puzzled expression on his face as Edith turned her monitor towards him. I knew she was answering his unasked question about what Beauvoir was.

“The people I had been listening to were talking about the mysterious circumstances the body had been found and that it had been the third body found in two weeks. I figured it was worth checking into. The local police were only too happy to share with a federal agency as they really had no clue how to proceed.

“The bodies were found on the grounds at Beauvoir, near the main building. There were no signs of a struggle; it was as if they had simple stopped living. I scanned the bodies and did not find any magical residue; in fact I found exactly nothing, just a big empty vessel.”

“Did you scan them for any residual arcane energy?” Peter interrupted.

“I only did a surface scan, but I did not find anything out of the ordinary there.” I said as I turned back to Peter, “Did you find any arcane energy on Rebecca?”

“Actually yes, that is what is curious she fairly reeked of the stuff. All I can figure form the energy levels is that she got hit by some sort of massive arcane stun gun. If it was a spell, they may have been shooting at you and she caught the edge of it.”

With his last words, I felt all eyes turn to me with one big question: What was I doing poking at hornet’s nests without proper backup.

I lowered my head and refused to offer any excuses for my actions. “Yes,” I coughed a moment and looked them each in the eye, “I made a very grievous mistake. Luckily I was allowed to live and learn from it. I will put myself on report later.” This brought a smile to their faces, I was known for my putting people on report.

“I had originally thought, from my own scans, that this was a simple ghost I was facing and I could get some quick answers. If the ghost pushed, I could banish it. However, it would seem that that was no simple ghost I was facing, but some sort of arcane specter. We need to do some research in the archives and see what has been going on in this area since the Civil War.”

So this, Edith piped up, “On it boss, now checking for any arcane or religious significance in this area for the last 150 years. Do you think it is limited to the Civil War?”

“Actually yes, it or he sounded very authentic for the Civil War time.” I thought for a moment and turned to John, “If memory serves there is a large shopping plaza just north of here, at Pass Road. Since Rebecca is out of service this leaves you to drive us there. No combat maneuvers, Rebecca is still out and I have a hangover from the grave. Right, John?”

“Yes, sir, boss man! You can count on me!” John said, standing to his feet and sharply saluting before turning on his heel to make the driver’s seat.

“But Dad,” Peter piped up from the back seat, “You never let me drive!”

“That is because of your sparkling and magnetic personality, Prince Peter.” I replied, which got me a healthy raspberry before he went back to his seat in the back of the bus.

Yes, this specter is in for a fight. What a wonderful way to spend one’s vacation.

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