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"Louina ..."
Cait jerked around as she heard the faint whisper of the woman's name; it was the same name as the ghost town they were standing in. Rather cruel to name the town after the woman who'd been run out of it for no real reason.
"Louina," the voice repeated, even more insistent than before.
"Did you hear that?" she asked the others.
"Hear what?" Jamie checked his DVR. "I'm not picking up anything."
Something struck her hard in the chest, forcing her to take a step back. Her friends and the forest vanished. She suddenly found herself inside an old trading post. The scent of the pine-board walls and floor mixed with that of spices and flour. But it was the soaps on the counter in front of her that smelled the strongest.
An older Native American woman, who wore her hair braided and coiled around her head, straightened the jars on the countertop while a younger, pregnant woman who had similar features, leaned against the opposite end.
But what shocked Cait was how much she looked like the older woman. Right down to the black hair and high eyebrows.
The younger woman-Elizabeth; Cait didn't know how she knew that, but she did-reached into one of the gla.s.s jars and pulled out a piece of licorice. "They're going to make you leave, Lou. I overheard them talking about it."
Louina scoffed at her sister's warning before she replaced the lid and pulled the jar away from her. "Our people were here long before them, and we'll be here long after they're gone. Mark my words, Lizzie."
Elizabeth swallowed her piece of licorice. "Have you not heard what they've done to the Cherokee in Georgia?"
"I heard. But the Cherokee aren't the Creek. Our nation is strong."
Elizabeth jerked, then placed her hand over her distended stomach where her baby kicked. "He gets upset every time I think about you being forced to leave."
"Then don't think about it. It won't happen. Not as long as I've been here."
"Cait!"
Cait jumped as Jamie shouted in her face. "W-what?"
"Are you with us? You blanked out for a second."
Blinking, she shook her head to clear it of the images that had seemed so real that she could taste Elizabeth's licorice. "Where was that original trading post you guys mentioned being here?"
Brandon shrugged. "No idea. We couldn't find any information about it, other than it was owned by the Native American woman the town was named for. Why?"
Because she had a bad feeling that they were standing on it. But there was nothing to corroborate that. Nothing other than a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.
In fact, there was nothing left of this once-thriving town other than rows of crosses in a forgotten cemetery, and a marker that proclaimed it Louina, Alabama.
That thought had barely finished before she saw Louina again in her mind. She was standing a few feet away, to Cait's left, with a wagon filled with as much money and supplies as she could carry. Furious, she spat on the ground and then spoke in Creek to the men who'd come to confiscate her home and store, and force her to leave.
Cait knew it was Creek, a language she knew not at all, and yet the words were as clear to her as if they'd been spoken in English.
"I curse this ground and all who dwell here. For what you've done to me ... for the cruelty you have shown others, no one will make my business prosper, and when my sister pa.s.ses from this existence to the next, within ten years of that date, there will be nothing left of this town except gravestones."
The sheriff and his deputies who'd been sent to escort her from her home laughed in her face. "Now, don't be like that, Louina. This ain't personal against you."
"No, but it is personal against you." She cast a scathing glare at all of them. "No one will remember any of you as ever having breathed, but they will remember my name, Louina, and the atrocity that you have committed against me."
One of the deputies came from behind the wagon with a stern frown. "Louina? This can't be all you own."
A cruel smile twisted her lips. "I couldn't carry all of my gold."
That piqued the deputies' interest.
"Where'd you leave it?" the sheriff asked.
"The safest place I know. In the arms of my beloved husband."
The sheriff rubbed his thumb along the edge of his lips. "Yeah, but no one knows where you buried him."
"I know and I won't forget ..." She swept a chilling gaze over all of them. "Anything." And with that, she climbed onto her wagon and started forward without looking back. But there was no missing the smug satisfaction in her eyes.
She was leaving more than her store behind.
Cait could hear Louina's malice as if they were her own thoughts. They will tear each other apart, questing for the gold my husband will never release ...
It was Louina's final revenge.
One paid tribute to by the eerie rows of cross-marked graves in the old Liberty Missionary Baptist Church Cemetery.
The weakness of our enemy is our strength.
Make my enemy brave, smart, and strong, so that if defeated, I will not be ashamed.
Cait felt Louina with her like her own shadow. A part of her that she could only see if the light hit it just right.
Louina whispered in her ear, but this time Cait didn't understand the words. Yet what was unmistakable was the feeling of all-consuming dread that wouldn't go away, no matter what she tried.
She sighed before she implored her group one more time. "We need to leave."
All three of them balked.
"We just got the equipment set out."
"What? Now? We've been here all day!"
"Really, Cait? What are you thinking?"
They spoke at once, but each voice was as clear as Louina's. "We should not be here," she insisted. "The land itself is telling me that we need to go. Screw the equipment, it's insured."
"No!" Brandon adamantly refused.
It was then that she understood why they were being stubborn, when Brandon had spent his entire life saying that if you ran into a malevolent haunting, you abandoned that place because nothing was worth the chance of being possessed.
Only one thing would make him and Jamie forget about their own beliefs.
Greed.
"You're not here for the ghosts. You're here for the treasure."
Jamie and Brandon exchanged a nervous glance.
"She is psychic," Anne reminded them.
Brandon cursed. "Who told you about the treasure?"
"Louina."
"Can she tell you where it is?" Jamie asked hopefully.
Cait screwed her face up at him. "Is that really all you're concerned with?"
"Well ... not all. We are here for the science. Natural curiosity being what it is. But let's face it, the equipment's not cheap and a little payback wouldn't be bad."
His choice of words only worsened her apprehension.
"Can you really not feel the anger here?" She gestured in the direction of the cemetery; that had been the first place they'd set up the equipment and it was there that her bad feelings had started. "It's so thick, I can smell it."
"I feel humidity."
Jamie raised his hand. "Sign me up for hunger."
"Annoyed," Brandon chimed in. "Look, it's for one night. Me and Jamie are going to dowse a little and try to find a place to dig."
How could he appear so chipper about what they were planning? "You'll be digging up a grave."
They froze.
"What?" Brandon asked.
Cait nodded. "The treasure is buried with Louina's husband, William, who was one of the Creek leaders during the Red Stick War."
Jamie narrowed his gaze suspiciously. "How do you know all of this?"
"I told you. Louina. She keeps speaking to me."
Brandon snorted. "I'm laying money on Google. Nice try, C. You probably know where the money is and you're trying to scare us off. No deal, sister. I want a cut."
Laughing, Jamie chucked him on the back, then headed to the cooler to grab a beer.
Anne stepped closer to her. "Are you serious about this?"
Cait nodded. "I wish they'd believe me. But yeah. We shouldn't be here. This land is saturated with malevolence. It's like a flowing river under the soil."
And with those words, she lost Anne's support. "Land can't be evil or cursed. You know that." She walked over to the men.
Cait knew better. Part Creek herself, she'd been raised on her mother's belief that if someone hated enough, they could transfer that hatred into objects and into the soil. Both were like sponges-they could carry hatred for generations.
Louina was out there, and she was angry.
Most of all, she was vengeful.
And she's coming for us ...
Cait felt like a leper as she sat alone by the fire, eating her protein bar. The others were off in the woods, trying to summon the very ent.i.ty that she knew was with her.
"Louina?" Jamie called, his deep voice resonating through the woods. "If you can hear me, give me a sign."
While it was a common phrase, for some reason tonight it bothered her. She mocked him silently as she pulled the protein bar's wrapper down lower.
Suddenly, a scream rang out.
Cait shot to her feet and listened carefully. Who was it, and where were they? Her heart pounded in her ears.
"Brandon!" Anne shouted, her voice echoing through the woods.
Cait ran toward them as fast as she could.
By the time she found them, Brandon was on his back with a twig poking all the way through his arm.
"He said he wanted a cut ..."
She jerked around, trying to pinpoint the voice that had spoken loud and clear. "Did you hear that?" she asked the others.
"All I hear is Brandon whining like a b.i.t.c.h. Suck it up already, dude. d.a.m.n. You keep that up and I'm buying you a bra."
"f.u.c.k you!" he snarled at Jamie. "Let me stab you with a stick and see how you feel. You the b.i.t.c.h. a.s.shole!"
"Boys!" Cait moved to stand between them. "What happened?"
"I don't know," Brandon hissed as Anne tried to see the wound. "I was walking, going over the thermal scan, when all of a sudden I stumbled and fell into a tree. Next thing I knew ... this!" He held it up for her to see.
Cringing, Cait averted her eyes from the grisly wound. "We need to get him to the hospital."
"Not on your life," Brandon snarled. "I'll be all right."
"I take it back. You're not a b.i.t.c.h. You're insane. Look at that wound. I hate to agree with Cait, 'cause I doubt there's a hospital anywhere near here, but you need help."
"It's a flesh wound."
Cait shook her head. "Anne, you should have never let him watch Monty Python."
"I should have never left him alone to go to the bathroom," Anne growled at him. "They're right. You need to see a doctor. You could get rabies or something."
Yeah, 'cause rabid trees were a huge problem here in Alabama. Cait barely caught herself before she laughed. Anne hated to be laughed at.