“Did you leave?” My hot tears carved lines across my cheeks.
She was quiet for a second, fingers entangled in my locs. I wanted to be close enough to her that I couldn’t feel or hear anything but her heartbeat. I didn’t like the smell of my apple spice soap or the white noise of the fan overhead. Wilson was downstairs, pots and kettles banging as he rummaged in the kitchen cabinets. Jonah searched in my closet, using something that beeped every other second.
“Not for long,” she whispered in my ear. “I was back the second we saw it on the camera.”
I sucked in a breath. Being this frustrated made no sense. Nor did being this distraught over a nightmare. And yet, I oscillated between gut-punching rage and heart-aching loneliness. “That wasn’t fast enough.”
“I know.” Rae rocked us back and forth. “I know.”
I was lucid enough to loosen my grip on her. My fingers burned, and I examined them. There was dirt underneath every single nail, packed in tight as if I’d been working in the garden from sunup to sundown without gloves.
“I took a shower,” I whispered to myself.
Because I had, hadn’t I? But coming out of the bathroom and talking to Rae seemed like months ago. As moreair filled my lungs, feeling returned to my toes. The bed underneath me became solid.
It’d been a dream. All a dream that’d sewn together memories and Rae’s bedtime story of near drowning.
I must have said that last part out loud because Rae frowned and said, “Octavia, you’re covered in dirt.”
“I work on a ranch.” I wiped the back of my hand on the bedsheet. “Of course I am.”
Of course I am.
NINE
Jobsoften devolved quicker than an RV barreling downhill. One minute, the monitor picked up subtle movement; the next minute, we were in a full-blown crisis. Though ghosts were always in the business of working on their own time, they sure loved an audience. The more people watching, the more emotion could be fed on.
Octavia’s tossing and turning turned concerning a half hour after I’d left her bedroom. Just as I was about to suggest Jonah lie down for a few hours of sleep before he started a watch shift, the closet door opened. A slow, creaking hinge revealed the same shadow that stalked Octavia nights before. Our thermal imaging picked up a large, bulky figure making its way to the end of the bed. The video blinked out once. Twice. Three times. Each blackout hid the entity’s steady progress underneath Octavia’s sheets.
“Wait,” Jonah said when I had popped out of my seat. “Don’t we have to wait a few more seconds? We…need as much footage as we can get. She should be fine for the first few minutes in?—”
“We have enough.” I was already halfway out the doorbecause that was what I’d promised her. Octavia was in her nightmare. I hadn’t realized how far she’d gotten until I entered the room and found dirt on the ground. I flicked on the lights, revealing her thrashing and trying to breathe.
When she finally woke and clutched me, I held on just as tight. My brain ran through an endless list of everything I could have done better. What could I have done to prevent this from happening to her in the first place.
Octavia pressed her nose against my neck, breathing in deeply as she attempted to cement herself back into this reality. Her being taken so far into a nightmare was confirmation of a powerful and vengeful ghost. This job would take more than a couple of days, and I’d need my entire team to do it.
“Wilson says it’s ready,” Jonah spoke softly in respect of Octavia’s lingering panic. She hadn’t let go of me for a second since we’d embraced. Fifteen minutes passed with me rubbing her back and whispering promises of safety in her ear.
“Let’s go downstairs.” I pulled back to meet her gaze. Octavia stared back, unmoving.
“You and me,” I tried. “Let’s go downstairs together and regroup.”
She took a breath, climbing out of whatever daze she’d fallen into before saying, “Okay.”
Her eyes were vacant as her hands fell from my waist. I offered my hand to help her up. Octavia surprised me by taking it. We walked downstairs, fingers interlocked. While she seemed steady enough on my end, her free hand trembled on her opposite side.
“Here.” Wilson scrambled to clear a spot near the fireplace for her. It was unlit. Octavia stared into it as if the flames were bright andwelcoming. “I’ll grab the tea.”
“I’ll help.” Jonah hurried into the kitchen after him.
Octavia sat down on the couch. I pulled a wooden footstool in front of her so I could sit. I covered her hands with mine, squeezing gently. Octavia didn’t respond. Didn’t bother meeting my gaze. We hadn’t known each other long enough for her look of desolation to pierce my chest this deeply. And yet, I was burned straight through with the need to set things right.
“It’s storming again.” I massaged circles on the back of her hand. “Quieter this time. Do you guys get this a lot this time of year? Seems strange for the season.”
“Global warming,” she murmured. Octavia blinked, dragging her gaze from the fireplace to the window. The curtain was half-closed, but we could make out a bit of the rain. The pitch-black sky held a plethora of clouds and silence.
“Sucks,” I said.
