𓂓
“I honestly wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t see it with my own eyes,” Michael said.
They had gone over the events in the tunnel many times before. Each retelling gave them new insight.
“I still can’t believe she stood up to... whatever that was... down there in the tunnel,” Jackie said.
“She had a strength well beyond her years. The intensity of that orange light that pulsed out of her... I gotta tell you, for a second there, I was kinda scared. That demon took off when she told it to.”
Jackie just shook her head.
“How has Elena been doing?” Michael asked. “I haven’t seen her for a couple days.”
“She’s been acting fairly normal. The therapist says she has bounced back nicely but doesn’t really want to say much about what happened while she was held captive.” Jackie sighed. “The therapist says returning to school is the best thing for her. I just can’t help but wonder—”
“The pediatrician made it clear she was not abused in any way.”
“I know, I know...” Jackie drifted off. “It’s just... since the incident, she’s been... I hear her talking in her room. When I go in or try to listen, it stops. I can never make out what she’s saying.”
“Probably talking to one of her stuffed animals,” Michael said.
“She’s never done that before,” Jackie replied.
“Have you tried to talk to her any more about it?” Michael asked.
“No. I... I just want to put this behind us. I want her to have a normal life.”
Michael nodded and sat back for a moment so the conversation had a chance to settle before he moved on. “I have good news,” he said. “They just let me know, phone call this morning. The probationary period is over. I’m now a full-fledged DEA agent.”
Jackie stood up. He rose and embraced her. “I’m so happy for you, baby. You deserve it.”
During their time in the hospital healing from their wounds, he had explained to her that his investigation into departmental corruption led to several arrests, including Officer Hines. Michael had made two major breaks in the departmental corruption case. First, Martha left the phone off the hook when they fled the hospital room. When ABCs came in to find an empty room, he’d complained out loud that Officer Hines didn’t give him good info. The 911 operator had recorded the whole thing. Second, once the events surrounding Elena’s rescue became public, Sarge turned himself in. He couldn’t take the guilt of what he had done after he found out that a little girl’s life was involved. He turned evidence on the corrupt cops hoping he might at least salvage his pension.
“By the way,” Michael said. “I spoke with Martha today. I needed to clear up the last few details for my report.”
“Oh, yeah, how is she?” Jackie asked.
“Good. She asked if she could stop by your house this afternoon. Something about releasing spirits.”
Jackie considered it for a moment. “Fine by me. Just tell her to send me the bill.”
𓂓
Martha tootled along in her clattering Mercedes, on her way to fulfill a promise to return to Haynesville Woods Avenue. She pulled up to Jackie’s house and shut the car off, then turned to fish something from the backseat and saw the Ouija again.
After dispatching the demon from the compound, she had sensed the remnant energy of the talisman and followed her intuition to the room on the other side of the compound. It had been sitting on a small table in front of two wooden chairs stained with torture. She had turned to an open closet, saw on the walls a population of devious implements. Martha sensed the evil that had been done there and braced herself as she lifted the board from the small table. It had vibrated in protest as she did.
Martha knew she should have destroyed it there, but the thing seemed alive in her hands. Its creator would likely come looking for it, but Martha could see possibilities in the energies exuded by this unique talisman. A portal. Martha thought back to the image she’d seen through the tear. The grays and blacks of a desolate landscape, the entities behind Evan, each dressed as warriors but each different, all with the same long sword. The brief glimpse had been seared into her mind.
Standing in the torture room, Martha had heard the insistent hum of the helicopters and knew she didn’t have much time. She had tucked the Ouija under her arm, focusing some intention on calming the board as she searched for the planchette. She found it on the floor and stuffed it in her pocket before making her way out of the torture room. She had raced down the hall, through the courtyard, and reached the SUV just as the helicopters touched down. Moments later, the compound was swarming with agents.
When Sean dropped her off to pick up her car from the hospital, she had deposited the Ouija in her back seat and there it stayed. She was unwilling to touch it again until she figured a few things out.
A passing car woke her from the daydream—one she often repeated. She found her shawl and pulled it out with her as she got out of the car. It was an unseasonably chilly cloudy day. She paused for a moment in front of Jackie’s house, centering herself. Then she pulled her trusty Zippo from a pocket and brought the flame to life. Almost instantly, the children emerged from the shrubbery, animated yet silent. Martha was pleased to see a small spaniel threading in between them, yapping in pleasure as she approached.
“It is time, little ones.” Standing in the yard, she murmured a few soft words and an expanding light appeared behind them. It seemed to extend back into a swirling tunnel, deepening with each moment. The walls of the tunnel appeared once again to be cloudy, but as the formation came into resolve, Martha could see the tunnels were formed not of cloud but of the energies of the deceased, spiriting the children and their pet into the light. Assuring them that they could move on now. The demon no longer held sway over them.
As if they were running off into the fields of their youth, the spirits vanished into the light accompanied by echoes of happy children, heralding their long-delayed arrival into The Beyond.
With their departure into the light, a soft wind lifted as if the street itself exhaled a long-held breath. And then the air calmed and Martha knew the agitated spirit of the land had also been healed and could finally rest in peace. She clacked the Zippo closed and after a brief pause, returned to her car and headed home.
𓂓
Martha considered stopping by to visit with Clay again. She had been by a few times to check on his recovery and enjoyed the company. Although he had pressed her for a deeper understanding of his experience, she suggested he come by after he was released from the hospital, but she doubted he would be interested.
Pushing that thought out of her mind, she picked up her steaming cup of Chaga coffee and returned to her office for sunset. She enjoyed watching the pastels of orange, red, and yellow dance across the floors and walls and bookshelves as she meditated on her newfound ability of amalgamation. However, since that last experience with the demon, she had not connected at all. It was a puzzle she felt compelled to figure out.
Settling into her chair, she filed away the documents from last night’s research. Then her eyes fell on the familiar folder resting on the desk. Unable to resist, she pulled her photocopy of the Liber Linteus de Cetamura from the folder once again and laid it on the desk. She lit a tea candle with her Zippo and placed it in the glass star holder. She picked up the photocopy, leaned back, and allowed her fingers to drift over the text, searching for the pattern that had made the woman appear. That much she had figured out, but after days of trying, nothing happened.
Frustrated, Martha swiped her hand over the document and tossed it back on the desk. She reached for her ancient coin, and settled back, smoothing her thumb over the worn surface. As she did, it began to glow, golden-orange light seeping from the seams of the textures. She sat up and held it close, studying it. The coin hummed with anticipation, growing heavier in her hand as the Geist of the woman appeared before her again, this time clearer and with a determined smile. To Martha, she resembled an Egyptian Goddess.
Martha leaned forward, intending to speak, but as if anticipating her question, the apparition spoke in a silent voice that filled her mind.
“I am Hatshepsut.
“Direct descendent of Amun.
“Pharaoh of Egypt.”
