04 – Ghost Breakers

“Go, move,” Leslie whispered as he urged the group back.

Erika’s mind raced. Her heart thumped. Some headless horseman romped past them and Leslie and Rick barely flinched. Something about the situation scared the two older ghost hunters, which had her on edge in turn. She kept her eyes locked on the withered woman in white as she let Leslie guide her steps backwards.

“Fully manifested?” Rick muttered under his breath like he couldn’t believe his own words, his fingers twitching in the air.

Rick’s whispered words struck Erika. Three encounters with ghosts—the bar, the farm, and the horseman—and she hadn’t seen a single one. All three had been invisible, just having side effects in the area around their haunting grounds.

Erika’s stomach twisted as a branch blocked her sight of the clearing. Her fingers grazed the grip of her distant baseball bat as she expected the ghost to move, to disappear from the tombstone and give her a jump-scare.

The ghost did not vanish in that moment, but when Erika caught sight of it again, she stared directly into sunken, empty sockets.

“Aw hell,” Leslie said, drawing a heavy pistol. He racked the slide, but left it aimed at the ground.

“What are you waiting for?” Erika hissed. The woman still wasn’t doing anything but staring. Erika almost wished she would attack, if only to pop the bubble of tension. “Shoot her.”

“Don’t know which way the highway is; blessed bullets will take out some kid in the back of a car just as easily as regular lead.”

“Salt?” Erika said, tilting her head toward Rick without taking her eyes off the ghost.

Rick shook his head, but didn’t give a reason for not using the salt. “Dan, grab the holy water from my pack? The spray bottle, white nozzle,” he added as Daniel unzipped Rick’s backpack.

Daniel pulled out a pair of spray bottles, one with an orange liquid and a red tip and one clear water with white at the end, then handed the latter over to Rick.

“Okay. Here is what we do,” Rick said, twisting the nozzle to the wide-spray setting. It clouded just like their breaths as he squirted it around, forming an opaque curtain between them and the ghost.

Even though making the ghost harder to see should have made Erika more nervous, something in the air shifted and an odd calm came over her. She wasn’t sure if the holy water itself contained some magical calming effect or if her sudden calm came from not being stared at, but she found she could breathe normally for the first time in several minutes. With one long exhale, she noticed something else.

“My breath is normal.”

As if they didn’t believe her, the other three all huffed and puffed to check their own breath. In the process, the frosty mist from the holy water quickly shifted back to simple wet water, carrying away the lingering fog as it drifted to the ground.

The woman in the clearing was gone.

“She lost us,” Rick sighed, stepping forward again. “Don’t know how long that might buy us—we should hurry.”

“How long—Hurry and what?” Daniel hissed. “Burn the bones? We didn’t bring shovels.”

“I might be able to dig a hole,” Erika said, taking a deep breath. Rick wasn’t sitting around to discuss the matter, nor was Leslie. Both rushed forward, the former dragging a salt circle around the lonesome tombstone. “I can make fissures in asphalt, but never tried excavation.”

Leslie pulled a trio of folding trench shovels from his pack. “Women in white tend to form from murdered young ladies, often killed by their supposed lovers, being buried in shallow graves.”

Erika stepped over the freshly laid barrier of salt, threw her long coat over the top of the tombstone, and grabbed one of the shovels. The sooner they dug up this chick, the sooner they could get away.

“Here,” Leslie said, “where she was sitting is our best bet.”

Daniel, not wanting to be left alone, hurried after her. Grabbing a shovel as well, he unfolded it, and slammed it into the hard, frozen ground, barely burying it two inches in.

Erika’s shovel sank in like she was dipping her shovel in water, her watch ticking up in the process.

“How deep is a shallow grave?” Daniel asked, kicking his shovel in a little further.

“About a foot,” Rick answered. Having finished with his salt ring, he took the red-capped spray bottle and went around, spraying down the salt. “Some friends online say Texas is swarming with women in white because state ordinance only requires a foot and a half of dirt above the casket.”

“You’d think people would—” Erika cut herself off as a waft of vile eggs drifted past. She coughed, almost gagging. “That’s nasty shit. What are you spraying?”

“Caught a whiff of the ol’ brimstone?” Rick choked a chuckle, covering his face with his sleeve. “Calcium polysulfide. Violent ghosts hate it.”

“Hate it as in avoid it?” Daniel asked, coughing twice. “Or hate it as in violently murder the guy spraying it around their resting place?”

Rick flashed a tight grin before covering his mouth. “Try not to breathe it in, it is toxic.”

“Right,” Erika grunted, rolling her eyes as she threw a load of dirt off to the side. “I’ll just hold my breath forever—” Erika’s shovel clanked and clacked as she broke through something that wasn’t dirt. “Might have hit a casket,” she said as she flung the dirt away, before looking down in the hole she made.

Rows of teeth, half of them missing, grinned back at her.

“Or a skull?”

With part of the body uncovered, Leslie and Daniel shifted positions. Working together, they—mostly Erika—exhumed the rest of the body in short order. Worn scraps of cloth clung to the frame, but nothing identifiable as clothing. Almost every part of the body had decayed to nothingness over the years.

“No casket? Or coffin?” Daniel asked, voice soft.

“Explains how she became a woman in white,” Leslie said with a heavy scowl. Sharing a look with Rick, he nodded his head, and pulled a quartet of clay pots from his pack. He placed one directly over the skull, with little metal stands sticking off into the dirt to give it support. Two went over the ribs, while the last nestled down in the pelvis. Uncapping the clay pots revealed rusty brown powder, which Rick popped silvery incense-like sticks into.

“Should I bother asking?” Erika asked, leaning away from the probably toxic substance.

The cops would probably have a field day if Rick ever got pulled over and searched.

“A little ferric oxide,” Rick hummed as he shoved another stick in the next pot, “a little aluminum, a pinch of magnesium—”

“Thermite?” Daniel said, stepping back.

“Not quite, but close enough. Don’t worry, it is stable and doesn’t explode when it does go off.”

“What about the arms and legs?” Erika asked, gripping her shovel. “We haven’t even unburied the legs, will they be close enough to burn?”

Leslie shook his head, arms folded as he watched Rick fish a lighter out of his pocket. “Very few cultures place significance on the limbs, as far as spiritual integrity goes.” He let out a long sigh. “Even the hips and chest are more for insurance—”

“Your breath,” Erika interrupted as a cloud of mist escaped with his sigh. When she spoke, her own breath fogged in front of her.

“Rick!”

“On it!” Rick cranked the lighter’s wheel, getting a flame on the first try.

Erika narrowed her eyes, scanning for the ghost.

“There,” Daniel whispered, hands gripping his shovel as he stared off to the line of trees around the small clearing.

Erika’s teeth ground as she found the figure. A pale woman with stringy black hair, half hidden behind a tree, peering out with long fingers gripping the bark. As soon as Erika spotted her, she shifted back, fully hiding behind the tree.

Unease gnawed at Erika’s stomach, even as Rick shouted, “Everyone out!”

Like firework sparklers, each of the four silver sticks burned down toward the mounds of rusty powder. Despite Rick’s assurances that the thermite would not explode, Erika bolted, dashing for the trees opposite from the ghostly figure. All three of the others stayed hot on her heels, only stopping as they huddled back behind a tree.

A loud hissing, fizzling sound erupted as blinding white light flooded through the clearing. Rick cranked the holy water, spraying it everywhere around, even as Erika tried to squint through the bright light to find the threat. She strained her ears, not sure if she would hear some squeal of the damned as they got dragged off to wherever dead people went.

She heard nothing and saw nothing, but felt that chill fade away.

After a full two minutes of burning, the hissing and brightness faded to nothingness.

“Didn’t even start a forest fire this time,” Rick said, voice tense despite his lighthearted words.

Leslie just shook his head, slowly straightening from his hunched position. His eyes swept over the group, making sure everyone was accounted for. Nodding to himself, he started back toward the lonesome tombstone. “Let’s check the bones.”

Keeping an eye out for any ghostly presence, Erika followed the others back to the grave. “What bones?” she asked, peering in.

A layer of still-liquid slag covered the bottom of the pit. A few ribs stuck out, right on the very edges of the ribcage, but the entire middle was just gone. The sternum, spine, hips, and skull might still exist beneath the slag, but not intact. The arms and legs still existed, poking out from the dirt where they had been partially uncovered; as Leslie had said, they were apparently not important.

“Did it work?” Daniel asked. “No Latin chanting?”

Picking up one of the discarded EMF readers, Rick clicked it on and waved it around. It buzzed a bit, but didn’t climb past the third light. Even that was weak and dimly lit. Repeating the test with a few other gadgets, all ranging between low and no response, he shrugged with a nod. “Seems good. Readings this low are probably residual.”

“We’ll do a few prayers and rites before reburying what’s left, just to be sure,” Leslie said, lightly poking at the slag with a stick. “Bones are the main fetter, so this should suffice.”

“Are ghosts territorial?” Erika asked, taking her eyes from the grave to look around. The sun shined down, the air felt warm, and no ghosts peered from around trees.

“What?”

“Like, do two similar ghosts want to fight each other off?” Erika looked around the group, finding everyone staring at her. “I’m just not sure the woman in white that was lying here is the same woman in white that led us here.”

“Two of them?” Leslie growled, tense as he glared around the clearing.

“The woman at the fence wasn’t wearing the same dress as the one here. Donno if ghosts can change clothes, but one of them was watching us start the fire.”

Rick glanced around, teeth on edge. “The ring of salt is intact,” he said after a quick patrol around the tombstone. “We should bury the body before investigating a second one.”

“We don’t have more thermite.”

“Can still mark the location for a second visit.”

Leslie agreed with a shallow nod of his head. Erika and Daniel went on watch, keeping an eye out for more ghosts, while the other two spread rosemary and chanted over the grave according to the instructions in Leslie’s notebook. Burying the body went faster and easier, simply tossing the dirt back over the now-hardened slag. Depth didn’t matter after the burning, according to Rick. It felt a bit gross, but Erika found herself more concerned with other things.

The entire time she worked, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end, like her body knew she was being watched even if she couldn’t spot the actual watcher.

“Manifested?” Anna’s voice chirped with interest over Rick’s speakerphone. “In the middle of the day?”

“Saw it myself,” Rick said, leaning up against the tombstone as everyone else shoveled dirt. “So did the others.”

“Has that ever happened before?”

“Not to me.” Rick looked over to Leslie. “You?”

“Saw a drowned one early morning once, after the sun was up.”

“Drowned ones are more associated with water than any other concept. Women in white are historically tied to late evenings and nights.”

“Yeah, but not just one. We might have a second.”

“Manifested as well?”

“Seems to be. Only Erika saw this one.”

Erika patted down a mound of dirt with her boot. “The one we’re burying was wearing some old Victorian poofy dress. The other one dressed in a modern style.”

“How modern?”

“Wouldn’t be out of place in a club, if a bit conservative.”

Anna clicked her tongue. “Seems like I’m missing a big one.”

A strained chuckle escaped Rick’s tight smile. “Still time to show up. And bring some thermite when you do. We’re all out.”

“I… can’t. Mother isn’t having the best of days.”

Rick’s smile faded. He simply nodded his head, not applying any further pressure.

“I’ll run some searches, see if I can find any other murders that might have led to a woman in white,” Anna said after the silence lingered a little too long. “If I find anything, I’ll send a message.”

“Sounds good,” Rick said, ending the call with a sigh. “Welp, no new thermite from Anna.”

Leslie nodded, but didn’t seem upset. “Sofia not answering?”

“Nope. Probably busy with her job. I could call The Fixer…” Rick trailed off as Erika shot him a dark glare. “Or not…”

Erika harrumphed. “Call ’em if you want. I don’t care.” Erika threw a few more loads of dirt on the mound, waiting as the uncomfortable silence grew. She expected one of the others to say something, some admonishment about how she should patch things up or whatever.

It wasn’t like Erika wasn’t willing, but Patching things up was a two-way street. Until they stopped being a sneaky little shit about everything, she wasn’t going to give them the time of day. She felt like she had driven well past half way and they hadn’t even gotten into the car yet.

Also, they had to lay off Delilah. That girl was their one true link to The Mummy, and sending her off running again wouldn’t help anyone.

Patting the last of the dirt down alongside Daniel, Erika stretched, folded up her shovel, and turned back to the tombstone. She stopped and stared, a frown slowly drawing across her face. Rick still leaned against it, typing on his phone. She checked over the ground around the tombstone, walking around it twice before ending with her hands on her hips.

“Did one of you move my coat?” Erika asked, pointing to the tombstone. Seeing the confused looks on their faces, she explained, “I took it off before we started digging—didn’t want to get all hot and sweaty—and it was still there when we ran from the thermite. It isn’t there now…”

Erika closed her eyes, trying to remember if it had been there after returning to the burned out corpse, but she had been too focused on the flashy lights and smoldering slag, then with burying the body.

“Is there a ghost that steals coats?” Daniel asked, searching around the clearing like there was anywhere for the coat to hide.

“A poltergeist, maybe,” Leslie said, rubbing his beard. “They’re typically found in homes and living spaces…”

Rick swept a finger around the tombstone. “The ring of salt is intact. Even if it was a poltergeist, it couldn’t have gotten to it.”

“It got cold right as we were running away,” Erika said, still thinking back. “Did the ghost drag it into the pit of thermite?”

“Possible,” Leslie hummed. “There wouldn’t have been much left.”

“What a bitch,” Erika grumbled, thumping her boot against the tombstone without breaking it. “I mean, I don’t care that much. I’ve decided to buy cheap junk since… you know… ziggurat.” That was all she had to say to earn a round of shudders from the group.

“If you’re cold,” Daniel said, starting to take off his hoodie.

Erika donned a cocky grin. “Aww, thanks,” she teased just enough to make his ears tinge red. “But it isn’t that cold, and…” She trailed off, looking at her watch. “We probably shouldn’t be out here for more than an hour anyway. Got to dump the ripples.”

Leslie and Rick glanced at one another, both shrugging. “Well, we got one of them,” Rick said, gesturing to the mound of dirt. “And we’re out of thermite.”

“Don’t want to be here when it gets dark either,” Leslie said with a nod.

Daniel, hoodie smoothed back down around his waist, scrunched his face in disbelief. “Is this place really that haunted? All the ghosts come out at night?”

“What?” Rick laughed. “No. That’s when the cops come out.”

“Oh.” Daniel blinked. “Right.”

Leslie waved everyone closer. “Stick together. We’ll make our way back to the graveyard, then to the entrance. Assume there are hostile ghosts around and shout out any sign of them. No relaxing until we’re back at the van.”

The ghost meters beeped once or twice on the way back, but nothing alarming. The entire way back, Erika threw glances over her shoulder, fully expecting to see that ghost peering out from behind a tree. Each time, she spotted nothing.

Erika couldn’t tell which was more disconcerting: being watched or the feeling of being watched.

Either way, getting in the van and heading back to the city came as a relief, even if it meant returning to her other problems.