Read Online Spirit Caller 01 - Spirits Rising by Krista D Ball - Free Book Online
Authors: Krista D Ball
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forever, but I decided getting into position was the best option.
We drove the short trip from Wisemen’s Cove to St. Anthony. Jeremy sat in the back, so that Mrs. Saunders could sit in the front seat. Dark clouds hung in the air and mist sprayed the windshield. I picked up speed; the moose wouldn’t litter the secondary highway in this weather. They’d be smart and head to the woods.
Still, just to be sure, I kept the high-beam lights on. Hitting a four hundred kilo animal would put a damper on my plans.
The tight pressure behind my eyes slowly reformed, pulling and stabbing at my brain. I’d had several hours of complete and uninterrupted peace and my defences were prepared. I pushed my will and focus against the pressure and steadied my thoughts.
I passed four white RCMP vehicles as I approached town, with another two parked in the Tim Horton’s parking lot. But the cops weren’t inside slurping down the stereotypical coffee and donuts; instead, two officers sat alert in each vehicle, with headlights on, and the cars idling, ready for a moment’s dash down the street.
We turned up the hill, heading towards the graveyard. In the RCMP parking lot, several cars were parked.
“Looks like they brought in help,” Jeremy said idly from the backseat. He let out a sigh. “I should be helping. Damn forced vacation.”
“I’ve never seen so many Mounties in my life,” Mrs. Saunders said, disdain in her voice. “Bunch ’f foolishness this is, summoning up the dead. Don’t these youngsters have anything better to do?”
With the rain and clouds, it was hard to tell when sundown would happen, but I’d made an educated guess by looking at Environment Canada’s website before I set out. The car’s clock said I had about twenty minutes to set up. It was cutting it close, but I didn’t want Mrs. Saunders to be outside in the rain any longer than she needed.
I pulled the car off the road as best I could. A light mist was coming down, pretty normal for early September, so I’d made my neighbour bundle up good and wear her winter coat. I’d never forgive myself if the old lady caught pneumonia.
“This made the National last night,” Jeremy said as we exited the car, referring to the countrywide news show.
“Mrs. Saunders, wait here,” I said. I opened the trunk. “We’re on the National?”
Jeremy nodded. “I called in this morning and LeBlanc told me that it’s all across the country. There’s a rumour Peter Mansbridge might even come and interview people about ‘the gangs.’ ”
“Slow news week in Canada, I see,” I said with a frown. “Normally, Newfoundland doesn’t make the news unless we kick a prime minister out of the province.”
Jeremy gave me a small smile. “In any case, it’s best we don’t make a scene. LeBlanc’s already uneasy about Manny’s involvement, not to mention the rumours about devil worship. If word gets out that we’re dealing with actual spirits...” He ran a finger across his throat. “I’ll be on the unemployment line right beside ya.”
“No pressure,” I mumbled as I started pulling my gear from my vehicle’s trunk. “Arsehole.”
Jeremy beamed at me. He watched me put the small toolkit on the ground and picked up a worn, leather bag from trunk. “What’s this?”
“Don’t touch that,” I snapped.
He cocked an eyebrow, but passed it to me. I snatched it from him.
“Sorry,” he said, confusion in his voice.
I gave him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. It’s fragile and I don’t want anything to happen to it.”
“It looks like some kind of native medicine bag.”
I looked down at the worn bag and ran my thumb across its supple grain. “Whoever abandoned me put this around my neck.” I held up the palm-sized bag by its strings. “Stupid thing to do, really. I could have choked on it.”
“Was there anything inside?”
I shook my head. “Not even a note. It’s just a cheap store-bought bag, but I kept it all these years. I
We drove the short trip from Wisemen’s Cove to St. Anthony. Jeremy sat in the back, so that Mrs. Saunders could sit in the front seat. Dark clouds hung in the air and mist sprayed the windshield. I picked up speed; the moose wouldn’t litter the secondary highway in this weather. They’d be smart and head to the woods.
Still, just to be sure, I kept the high-beam lights on. Hitting a four hundred kilo animal would put a damper on my plans.
The tight pressure behind my eyes slowly reformed, pulling and stabbing at my brain. I’d had several hours of complete and uninterrupted peace and my defences were prepared. I pushed my will and focus against the pressure and steadied my thoughts.
I passed four white RCMP vehicles as I approached town, with another two parked in the Tim Horton’s parking lot. But the cops weren’t inside slurping down the stereotypical coffee and donuts; instead, two officers sat alert in each vehicle, with headlights on, and the cars idling, ready for a moment’s dash down the street.
We turned up the hill, heading towards the graveyard. In the RCMP parking lot, several cars were parked.
“Looks like they brought in help,” Jeremy said idly from the backseat. He let out a sigh. “I should be helping. Damn forced vacation.”
“I’ve never seen so many Mounties in my life,” Mrs. Saunders said, disdain in her voice. “Bunch ’f foolishness this is, summoning up the dead. Don’t these youngsters have anything better to do?”
With the rain and clouds, it was hard to tell when sundown would happen, but I’d made an educated guess by looking at Environment Canada’s website before I set out. The car’s clock said I had about twenty minutes to set up. It was cutting it close, but I didn’t want Mrs. Saunders to be outside in the rain any longer than she needed.
I pulled the car off the road as best I could. A light mist was coming down, pretty normal for early September, so I’d made my neighbour bundle up good and wear her winter coat. I’d never forgive myself if the old lady caught pneumonia.
“This made the National last night,” Jeremy said as we exited the car, referring to the countrywide news show.
“Mrs. Saunders, wait here,” I said. I opened the trunk. “We’re on the National?”
Jeremy nodded. “I called in this morning and LeBlanc told me that it’s all across the country. There’s a rumour Peter Mansbridge might even come and interview people about ‘the gangs.’ ”
“Slow news week in Canada, I see,” I said with a frown. “Normally, Newfoundland doesn’t make the news unless we kick a prime minister out of the province.”
Jeremy gave me a small smile. “In any case, it’s best we don’t make a scene. LeBlanc’s already uneasy about Manny’s involvement, not to mention the rumours about devil worship. If word gets out that we’re dealing with actual spirits...” He ran a finger across his throat. “I’ll be on the unemployment line right beside ya.”
“No pressure,” I mumbled as I started pulling my gear from my vehicle’s trunk. “Arsehole.”
Jeremy beamed at me. He watched me put the small toolkit on the ground and picked up a worn, leather bag from trunk. “What’s this?”
“Don’t touch that,” I snapped.
He cocked an eyebrow, but passed it to me. I snatched it from him.
“Sorry,” he said, confusion in his voice.
I gave him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. It’s fragile and I don’t want anything to happen to it.”
“It looks like some kind of native medicine bag.”
I looked down at the worn bag and ran my thumb across its supple grain. “Whoever abandoned me put this around my neck.” I held up the palm-sized bag by its strings. “Stupid thing to do, really. I could have choked on it.”
“Was there anything inside?”
I shook my head. “Not even a note. It’s just a cheap store-bought bag, but I kept it all these years. I
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