Happy Sunday, my dear readers! Here is an excerpt of Over the River for your reading pleasure đ
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@copyright October Weeks 2016
In silence, they walked around the property, getting a feel of what was around them. Of who was around them. Delilah took a digital camera out of one of her pockets and took pictures of the house, the sandbox, the garden area, the woods behind the house. Milly could touch photographs and get a flash of something sometimes. In fact, on occasion, her friend had picked up on things both of them had missed on location.
The energy of the dead swirled all around her, her senses buzzing. A weight was dancing along that energy, trying to keep it hidden. The energy she was feeling was from children. The weight meant someone was keeping the children from fully reaching out to her.
To double-check that feeling, Delilah reached out with her gift. A response came a few moments laterâa little tug in her mind. A sound came to her ears, almost a whisper, but she couldnât make it out. The sound was fast, as if it were being pushed right passed her.
Someone didnât want the children talking to her all right. Well, that was too damn bad for that someone.
Delilah turned to Milly, who was about six or seven yards to her right, and found her standing rigidly. âMilly? Are you okay?â
âThey played here, the children.â Milly slowly turned and faced Delilah. âWith toys only she allowed, like my mom said.â
Delilah gave a nod.
Millyâs face paled. âThere was somethingâŚsomething in their playing. A reasonâŚâ
Milly flinched, but Delilah didnât move closer. Milly needed a bit of space with such an open area to tap into, and Delilah didnât want to get in her way.
Resuming her picture taking, Delilah found herself near the sandbox again. A presence stirred the air, poking around her energy like icy fingers. She took a picture, waiting patiently for the spirit to appear. It was struggling some against the pressure of the âsomeone.â She didnât urge the ghostâno need to rush.
Shovelingâa shovel digging into dirt.
The impression of a small shovel dug into the snow and scooped it up. The snow traveled in the air for a moment before sliding off and disappearing. A few seconds later, the grainy echo of dirt hitting the bottom of a bucket touched her ears.
The ghost was trying to tell her something. Sometimes, a child spirit had a hard time putting a full image through, but the audio was loud and clear.
âPut that shovel down right now!â
Delilah jumped at the shrill voice. A door swung open behind her but she kept her gaze on the stilled snow in front of her, halfway to the bucket, fear gripping her mind. The poor child was frozen with it.
âBut Mama, IâŚâ
Delilah moved her head slightly. Footsteps appeared in the snow beside her, about a foot away. The sound of fabric rustling came and stopped.
âI said no playing, young man.â The womanâs voice shook with anger. The fear rose. âYou know the rules.â
âI just wanted to play for a minute!â the boy pleaded, and Delilah sensed him huddled in the sandbox, making himself small. âItâs been days, Mama!â
A growl came from the woman. Ice crawled up Delilahâs arm in response. âI know the days, son.â A dangerous whisper. âJust for this, you will play by the garden tomorrow.â A sharp pang of fear came from the boy, followed by his motherâs delight in that fear. âOh yes. That is the perfect punishment for you. Now get inside.â
Just before the last word faded, Delilah snapped a picture. She knew who the woman was, and anger formed in her gut.
âShe wonât let us leave.â
The solemn voice, so sad, came from her left side. The same voice that was in the memory. She turned to see the speaker, a boy, around eight years old, his head cocked to the right.
âYour mother?â she asked, for clarification. He gave her a nod. âWhy?â
âWe are stuck out here, playing only when she tells us, doing what she tells us.â
Delilah knelt to his short level. âDo you know why youâre still here?â
An expression only a child could wear came to his face, as if she were crazy for even asking. âShe uses our playing as part of what she and Paul are doing.â
âPaul?â
âThe older boy in the house.â
Ah. Now she rememberedâPaul was one of Joslynâs eldest children. âWhat do you do when youâre not playing?â
His face grew ashen. âShe feeds us,â he whispered.
Oh, she did not like the sound of that. Worry immediately tugged at her. âWhat do you mean?â
âWe stand still and she feeds us energy, through fear,â he continued, still whispering. He swallowed with what looked like great difficulty, as if he were afraid to say his next words. âItâs to keep us from fading into the sunlight. You feel warm.â
âThank you.â She smiled, brief but warm. âWhy is she letting you talk to me?â
âShe isnât holding too tightly right now, but she doesnât want me talking to you.â
Anger grew inside of her, all aimed at his mother. The fact that the woman was trying to hide the childrenâs energy while allowing one of them to speak to her raised very bright red flags. âWhy wonât she let you play unless she allows it? Why does she have âplay daysâ?â
The boy shook his head. He wanted to answer, but someone wouldnât let him.
âItâs her. Joslyn.â Milly was suddenly beside her, making her jump again. âThe poor thing is bound to the sandbox area.â
âI have to go,â the boy said. âSheâs warm tooâŚâ He vanished.
Delilah sighed. Damn. She stood and faced Milly. âDid you get anything just then? Before he left, I mean.â
âOnly that heâs tied somehow to the sandbox area, but I couldnât catch why. He was gone too fast. I got here too late. Iâm sorry.â
âNot your fault, Mills. Joslyn didnât want him talking to me anymore, and apparently she really didnât want him talking to you.â
And that last could mean that Joslyn knew what their gifts were, which meant that she didnât want Milly seeing what had happened to the children.
Milly took a breath. âWhat did he tell you before she took him?â
Fixing her knitted hat, then looking briefly back at the sandbox, Delilah explained what the boy had shown her, what she had heard. âHe confirmed Joslyn was the woman I heard, and I think from that alone we can take a damn good guess whoâs responsible for him being tied to the box.â
Anger flashed in Millyâs eyes. âYes, we can. Now we know the answer to the âwho and whatâ question.â
Yep, they did. But had she started feeding the children energy before theyâd died? That was something they needed to find out. âDid you see anything before you came over to me?â
âI saw flashes of children playing solemnly or walking in the yard. All the flashes brought fear and sadness with them, but before I could reach with my gift to see more,â she shrugged, âeverything went blank and I returned to the present.â
Delilah furrowed her eyebrows. âJoslynâs blocking you somehow. I bet sheâs using the kids to help with that.â
âI agree.â
They both turned to face the back of the house. âWell,â Delilah started, âif she wonât let us play with the kids, letâs go introduce ourselves to her.â