Vanessa Page 6
Chapter 6 – 4:40 PM
Annie stood on the porch gazing north, west, and then north again. Archibald was with Hood, according to his last letter. Hood would stop that hellhound, Sherman, if anyone could. She looked at her children. Their play seemed to slow down as they, too, looked west. Her son kept his gaze there. Her daughter looked at her and silently mouthed, “Please”. There were times a mother just had to say no.
The time was approaching. Ryan had an agenda, and timing it to a daily tragedy would make the mission he sought all the more poignant to his descendents. “Vanessa and I traveled together everywhere except the men’s room. I learned quickly to keep my replies to her disguised. If there was a seat open next to me on the train, taxi or any other public transport, she would be there chatting away. People looked at me funny if I replied.
“I tried to find out more about her and came up with zip. She couldn’t bring back her own previous life and that really seemed to upset her. She felt that maybe she was still around to help her own loved one or ones, like Joe Morrison tried to help patients and his wife, yet she didn’t know who they might be. We placed her demise in the early to mid-1900’s, between looking back to her earliest memories and judging by her style of clothes. Her accent indicated a southern ancestry. During her wanderings before we hooked up, she had found quite a few stuck entities, many of whom we have since been able to help.
“We started in San Diego, where we landed after Hawaii, and began working our way east, zigzagging according to her directions. We had made about thirty contacts; all but one were reasonably easy. That harder one took some ingenuity.” Ryan took a sip of his coffee and looked at his watch.
Men on horses began to shift their positions and groupings. Jed saw and bided his time. “What are they going to try this time, Coaljack?”
Annie looked only west, now. Archibald was not going to make it. She knew that now and stood like stone on the porch as strangers passed by and through her. The guests that passed through her space would look around and wonder why an air conditioning vent was directed outside the Homestead Main House. The staff had been told to answer that question by saying that there was a small cave outlet under the porch that periodically exhaled cold air. The truth was, no one had been able to explain the chilliness that would manifest at this same time, every day.
“That harder one was a crop duster pilot who was caught in a loop, ending with him crashing into a barn. Fortunately for us, if not the pilot, the cycle was daily. Only being able to take an annual shot at someone hard to get at makes it real interesting. Also, how do you chat with a ghost when you are on the ground while said entity was careening through the sky and into a barn? I couldn’t pace him like I did the jogger. Finally worked that one out by painting messages on the side of the barn that he would be able to see, just before he crashed, to get the idea across that he was dead, that he needed to let go, to move on, etc. It took weeks before he got the message. The secret there was to repeat the message, but change the wording so it didn’t become just part of the cycle. I even wrote once that Lara (his wife) was waiting for him. The barn owner thought I was certifiable, but that didn’t stop him from accepting the money I paid him for my graffiti canvas. One day, the plane made its appearance as usual, but instead of crashing, he regained control and flew east. Just before he winked out, we saw him wave his wings.”
Ryan went on for a while, detailing other things that happened along the way, and then looked at his watch, again. He swallowed, sighed and went on.
“We arrived at Milledgeville, Georgia, and went west to a historical sight from the Civil War. It was a plantation owned by an officer under General Hood: one Col. Archibald Edwards and his wife Anita, better known as Annie. I took the tour at Vanessa’s request, which she insisted on before she would tell me what it was all about. She said I would understand why. Vanessa had timed things nicely. I saw a woman on the porch and knew she wasn’t of this world. People would walk right through her. She stood like a statue, eyes fixed to the west. It was nearing closing time and people leaving were being thanked and told, “Ya’ll come back now, heah?” I followed the entity’s gaze and saw two children, a young boy and younger girl. Their clothes were old fashioned, like their mother’s. Something caused my neck hairs to rise. I could hear…horses.” Ryan’s eyes defocused. It was that time. He continued to describe the event he had witnessed that day, while, even as he spoke...
5:07PM. Major Benjamin Covington drew his saber and called out, “NOW FOR IT MEN!” and spurred his roan forward. An advance party of five bolted to the right and out of the woods towards the house, followed closely on the left by another group of five.
They reined in their horses hard and made right for each other just in front of the two children. Annie saw this and began to bend her will to the Union dogs when two groups of three thundered to either side of the house in a mad dash to get beyond her power.
This distracted Annie long enough for the ten to form a ‘shield wall’ around the children as the main body of thirty-seven broke through, reining to give as much a delay as possible for the escape attempt. It took five seconds for five separate groups to emerge. Annie hadn’t expected that. The Major had lulled her guard down over the past few months with doing the same thing over and over again. The group of three that pealed to her right was the first target. Their bodies as well as their horses burst into bright flames, with screams rending the air that only spirits could hear. She turned quickly to the other three, but then realized that her attention was needed elsewhere. The shield of ten was a dam, splitting the main body to the right and left of her children; desperately keeping their horses in check long enough to split the main group. They were trying for redemption?
“NO!! NOT NOW, NOT EVER YOU BASTARDS!!!” Her mind reached out to the one most connected to her. Private Jed Patterson found new strength to break free of being hemmed in by his ‘comrades’. He spurred forward and crashed his own steed into the spirit wall of men and mounts. Those as well now felt Annie’s iron will. The shield faltered, then broke. Through that confusion, one man spurred his horse directly at the porch. His eyes burned like fanned coals and his voice roared of rage and insanity. The Union man drew his saber and actually tore himself off his saddle, diving with both hands clasped upon the hilt and aiming the weapon at the woman, having chosen to forget the time when his Commander’s own saber had no affect when used against him. Annie, for the second time, was surprised. Leaving the saddle would cause him pain beyond pain, for it was she who had created a fusion of horse and man, and parts would be left behind if one tried to leave his mount. Yet, for all her surprise and insanity, she retained command.
Her eyes opened wider and the mad Private stopped mid-air, the tip of his sword less than a foot from her breast. She raised her hand and the sword glowed fire red, but the man would not release it, though his hands began to smolder. Jed’s eyes burst like bubbles, his uniform and skin ignited, pealing back to reveal muscle and bone. When Jed’s ashes were all that were left of him, Annie turned at the body of horsemen she still had in thrall. Three had escaped.
“Damn you all to HELL! They only left me to meet their master SATAN, do you HEAR ME!??”
Major Covington was frozen to his saddle with Private Elijah Cooper at his side. Darkness was falling and he had time for only one exchange with his soldier.
“We did it, Elijah, three made it. Our friend Ryan will be most pleased. May they find rest in God’s hands.”
“Sir, may they also tell God we need His help.”
“Amen, Private.” But Major Covington held little hope for that. The ten in his command that had escaped early from Annie, and the two in the recent past, had yet to return with any saving grace.