The Long Game (Haunted Series Book 19) Read online

  “Excuse me, Father, I have arrangements to make,” Mia said, producing her wings.

  “And I have a phone call to return. Go with God, Mia.”

  Mia smiled and wrapped her wings around herself and disappeared.

  Chapter Three

  Burt walked out onto his deck to clear away some dead leaves that had blown under the Adirondack chairs prior to the rainstorm. He took a moment to look out into the lake. He was very fortunate that Mia had continued to rent the place to him, some months, rent free. Big Bear Lake was large enough to produce white caps on windy days; the house was far enough away from the county beach and summer homes for him to feel almost isolated; and he had no immediate neighbors on the south side of the peninsula. The land there was too swampy to build on. On the north side was John Ryan’s place. The house was hidden by a copse of trees, but Ryan’s dock extended out into the lake. That’s where Burt spotted him this afternoon. The man, still dressed in his uniform, was pacing the dock.

  Burt sensed the man needed a sounding board or a shoulder to lean on. Burt walked inside the house and grabbed two bottles of beer. He walked to the water’s edge and put two fingers to his lips and let out a shrill whistle.

  John looked over to see Burt Hicks, founding partner of Paranormal Entity Exposure Partners, holding up two beers.

  John smiled and held up five fingers.

  Burt nodded and walked into the house, opened up the gate on the drive, and decided to put together a couple of man-size sandwiches.

  John walked in the back door and over to the kitchen.

  “I wasn’t sure if you were a mayo man?” Burt asked.

  “When the wife’s around, no. Slather it on, I could use the comfort,” John said.

  “What’s with your caged tiger impression on the dock?”

  John laughed. “An aging domesticated cat, maybe.”

  Burt disagreed but let the correction stand. “Can I be of any help?”

  “I’m surprised the jungle drums haven’t reached you yet.”

  Burt opened the beer and set one before the sheriff. “Nope.”

  “The Martins had a visitor looking for me.”

  “At the farm?”

  “Yes, I’m still trying to figure that out. He arrived in the rain and left in a swirl of wind.”

  “Ghost?”

  “Maybe. Whatever it was, it came in the image of my old friend Corporal Quivers, nickname Shivers, from Nam.”

  “Is he alive?”

  “Disappeared in Cambodia before the incursion.”

  “Prisoner of War?”

  “What, POW? No. Possessed perhaps. We lost him in the Cardamom Mountains. That’s where I met Paolo Santos.”

  “I’ve often wondered about your connection,” Burt admitted. “Never imagined Santos in the military though.”

  “Santos wasn’t in the military. He was attached to a missionary medical group out of Spain. We came upon them in the Cardamom Mountains while we were on recon. He acted as their translator. I had some high school Spanish, but I couldn’t keep up with the conversation, so I was pleased to have another interpreter on hand. The gist was, there was some kind of plague outbreak in the surrounding villages that were nestled near the crags. His superior, Father Domingo, stressed that our squad should head north, giving these villages a wide berth, and he worked with private Honeycutt on a map out of the mountains using a little known path. They left us, heading west into the limestone crag area. We bedded down for the night. In the morning, Shivers was gone.”

  “We found a drag trail heading into the limestone crags and followed it. Along the way, we were picked off one by one until all but myself and Honeycutt were left. I weighed the choices. We could go back and chance running into whatever took our friends, or continue to follow Shivers’s trail. We chose the trail.” Ryan stopped and downed the last of his beer.

  “Would you like another?” Burt asked.

  “Please. I’m off the clock. I can’t concentrate with this on my mind. Am I stopping you from doing anything?”

  “Yardwork that can wait,” Burt said.

  “I’ve got a few backlogged months myself,” John admitted. “Fortunately, no one can see the place from the road, and my wife isn’t a stickler regarding weeding.”

  “I try to keep the place up. Mia’s been kind. I like to repay her by doing the chores a landlord would normally do.”

  “She’s a bit stretched for time these days.”

  “Enough that she told Murphy that she was looking forward to purgatory. She said she needed the rest.”

  The men chuckled. John scratched the back of his head. “Burt, I never saw the creatures coming. One minute Honeycutt and I were walking side by side, our weapons ready, and then darkness. No pain, just darkness. When I came around, I thought perhaps we had fallen into a pit, a favorite trap of the VCA. But it wasn’t ground under me; it was stone. Stone floor, stone walls, and a constant drip of water nearby. All my gear had been taken. I was left with a canteen and a ragged blanket of some kind. There was some minor illumination, maybe natural light filtering in from somewhere. I remember that I could see just about two feet in front of me. I walked the space in a grid. I found out that I was in a cell with no door, and I was the only one in there.”

  “I called out, not in fear, but to see if Honeycutt was nearby. I didn’t receive an answer. The light gradually dimmed, and I huddled in the corner using the blanket for warmth. Soon I fell asleep.”

  Burt watched the man gather his thoughts. Ryan swirled the remainder of the second bottle of beer, looking at it as if it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. He sobered up and continued, “Morning came, not with sunlight but that same filtered light. My body told me that I had been captive for over eight hours. I urinated in the corner. I scratched a line in the wall and settled down and waited, listening for any sound that would help me to identify where I was. A few hours later, I heard a scratching above me, a scream of metal, and the ceiling of my cell opened up. I was momentarily blinded by the light.”

  “I couldn’t see who it was staring down at me. The light was behind him. He dropped a bucket. ‘That’s for shit,’ a familiar voice told me.”

  “‘Shivers?’ I asked. ‘Shivers is long gone, Sarge,’ he said. ‘This should hold you until we decide what to do with you.’ He lowered a smaller bucket. Inside was rice, shredded-meat of some kind, and fruit. ‘Toss me your canteen,’ he instructed. I did, and he returned it filled with water. ‘Why are you holding me?’ I asked, sensing this wasn’t exactly a military operation. ‘Not sure,’ Shivers, who was not Shivers, told me. The top to my cell was returned, and I settled myself down and tried to eat. I hoped the food would nourish me. It didn’t smell bad so I ate it and drank half my canteen of water before returning to my corner and slept.”

  “How could you sleep?” Burt asked as he picked up the sandwich plate.

  “I’ve always been good at rationalization. I figured I couldn’t scale the walls. There was no way to escape, so I might as well reserve my energy for a time when all this may be possible.”

  “Military training?” Burt asked.

  “No, having three older brothers. They loved playing cowboys and Indians. I was the settler tied to a tree, wall, dropped into the water tower, wherever they imagined would be a great place to keep a hostage. I developed patience and, eventually, the ability to read a man’s face before he acted.”

  “You couldn’t see Shivers’s face…” Burt led.

  “No I couldn’t, and his voice had a bit of an odd accent to it. He came back in the night to remove waste and resupply me with food. This went on for ten days. I used my time, incorporating any exercise I could do in a small space. The tenth day, a ladder was lowered, and I was asked to leave my cell voluntarily. I figured they could starve me if I refused. So, I climbed up out of the cell into what looked like a sanctuary of some kind. There were reliefs carved into the limestone walls depicting a ghost rider flying over a massive army. I looked over at Shivers and asked, “This you?”

  “The man smiled. The Shivers I knew never smiled. I didn’t know his face could form more than a straight line grimace. ‘You’re very perceptive, Sarge.’ ‘I’m not a sergeant, my rank is private,’ I clarified. ‘This meat suit thinks of you as Sarge. It’s good enough for me. Come,’ he ordered. I didn’t know where I was, so I didn’t act rashly and try to escape. To do so could have resulted in my death or possibly being restrained, neither of which I wanted. We walked up a carved stone staircase and up into a courtyard. There seated on what could only be described as a throne was Pol Pot. I was pushed from behind by men that moved so quickly that I had no choice but to obey. Soon I was on my knees with my forehead touching the courtyard.”

  “Pol Pot spoke in a language I only knew snatches of. His manner was excited. Shivers spoke back in a bored, even tone. He then told me, ‘Your captor is a minor warlord seeking to govern all of Cambodia. We know from the men in your squad that you were sent here to get the lay of the land. There is nothing here for your country. I don’t know why your leaders persist in throwing young bodies at the problems here. All you’re doing is stripping the herd of capable young men. Westerners do not belong here.’ ‘Is that what he said?’ I asked. ‘More or less - the pompass fool grunted a few orders, and I’m to kill you as the last sacrifice to Abigor.’ ‘Who the fuck is that?’ I asked. The man laughed. ‘I thought we already established that I am the ghost rider. The ghost rider is Abigor.’”

  Burt pulled what he knew about Abigor, also known as Eligor or Eligos, from his memory. The grand duke of Hell. He was thought to control sixty legions of demons. Abigor sometimes aided warriors with information that they needed to conquer their enemy. To achieve this, sacrifices had to be made.
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  “I was puzzled and asked, ‘Why are you doing the work of a slave when you are Abigor?’ Shivers squatted down and lifted my head up. ‘I don’t want to work for this bastard. Pol Pot wants me to use my army of the undead to defeat the populous, so he can rule Cambodia unopposed. He will make a horrible ruler. I have seen this, but I have also seen that I cannot stop him. I see him succeeding, but I don’t have to help him. My master is Lucifer, and I’m fine waiting for him to gather the courage and the balls to go up, once again, against his father and brothers. But if you’re sacrificed, I will owe Pol Pot my allegiance.’ I managed to chuckle and said, ‘I see the pickle you’re in. You could… say… let me go.’ ‘I thought about that,’ he replied. ‘Why else would I have insisted on your humane treatment. You could rise up and head-butt Shivers here. Grab ahold of my weapon, fire it at Pol Pot, and run out of here. I suggest south, keep the sun in your face. Careful of where you run to because soon your air force will start bombing. Maybe find another way out of Cambodia,’ he suggested. You could head west to the gulf. Hole up there until it’s safe to travel back to your unit.”

  “You’re playing with me here,” Burt said. “If this was Abigor, why would he free you and tell you how to get away?”

  “All I can tell you is what happened.”

  “So you head-butted him and fired at Pol Pot…” Burt encouraged.

  “Missed him by this much.” Ryan held his fingers an inch apart. “I shot a circle of bullets around me, scattering the surprised rebels. I took Shivers’s, excuse me, Abigor’s way out, but the bombing had begun. I fled the napalm fires and got lost in the crags. I feared I was being herded back to Pol Pot when, in a delirium of fever, I stumbled into a village and into the arms of Paolo Santos.”

  John Ryan’s phone vibrated. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID. “I have to take this.”

  “I’ll give you some privacy,” Burt said, grabbing his coat. “I’ll be outside.”

  “Hello, Paolo,” John said.

  ~

  Murphy stepped out of the vortex surprised to see Mia standing there. She smiled at him. This eased the panic he felt, fearing that something was wrong at the farm.

  “How is Rori?” she asked.

  “Talkative, she’s settled into her namesake’s home and had much to tell me about the strange housekeeping machinery her great-grandniece uses. She’s also fascinated by the computer. Before you say it, I warned her that she may inadvertently hurt the laptop with her ghost chemistry.”

  “You’ve been there and done that,” Mia teased. “Do you have a few moments? I’d like to run something by you.”

  “My eternity is booked, but I think I can squeeze you in,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

  “First let me catch you up on what went on here today…” Mia said.

  Stephen Murphy listened to Mia tell him about the entity that arrived in the storm. He instinctively tightened his hand around the handle of his axe. Having the PEEPs office invaded when he wasn’t here was disturbing, and Mia telling him about being called by the archangel did nothing to ease his mind.

  “I think I’m going to be asked to go on a reconnaissance mission, but I’m worried that while I’m away…”

  “They are going to come for your family,” Murphy finished.

  “Yes.”

  “And you want me to stay behind to watch over them.”

  “Yes. There is no one I trust more than you,” Mia said honestly.

  Murphy smiled briefly. “Who is going to watch your back?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, I’m sure whomever is involved in the mission.”

  “What if this is a ruse to get you to Cambodia and into the clutches of this Abigor?”

  Mia fidgeted. She kicked the ground with the toe of her boot. “If this Abigor wanted me, he would have already taken me. His power is most likely equal to Sariel’s. I think there is more going on. I’m going to go and see John Ryan. There are too many holes in this story. Would you come with me?”

  “Why?”

  “Stupid man, I need your perspective.”

  Murphy didn’t rise to Mia’s insult. He knew she didn’t mean to hurt him. She was on edge. The little he knew had him worried. What did something that happened decades ago on the other side of the world have to do with now? He looked over at his worried friend. “Before you go, let’s sit down with Ted and Cid. They both have strategic minds. You and I are reactionary, but they are planners. Perhaps the four of us can piece more of this puzzle together. Remember, knowledge is…”

  “Power,” Mia finished and smiled. “I knew there was a reason I let you hang around on my farm…”

  “Your farm? It’s my farm,” Murphy corrected.

  “Where’s your deed, farmer?” Mia provoked.

  Murphy bounced his axe from one hand to the other and smiled. “Right here.”

  Chapter Four

  Ted and Cid sat across the conference table from Mia and Murphy. Jake looked on from the big monitor.

  Cid had a large map he had printed and taped together. It was a satellite image of the area. Mia got on her chair and stared down at the map, memorizing it. Cid pointed out the villages and talked about all he had learned since the arrival of Shivers. Mia listened and committed the facts to memory.

  “Mia, northeast is Angkor Wat, and west is the Gulf of Thailand.”

  “Angkor Wat, like the game?”

  “Yes. The makers were spot on with their imagery, with the exception of the town you were in; it doesn’t exist anywhere but in the minds of the programmers.”

  “I remember lush landscape. The trees that had taken over the temples.”

  “Angkor Wat is very old, as is the area you may be visiting,” Cid schooled. “We, in North America, learn so little of the history of the world. A place like Cambodia gives you the impression of emerging civilization when, in fact, it is far older than most European cities.”

  “Like Cahokia,” Mia mused.

  “And like Cahokia, they believe in magic and the old ways. They have moved forward in technology but still fear what is in those mountains,” Cid warned.

  “Father Santos described these men possessed by crevice demons. His descriptions and those of the zombies in this book,” Mia said, tapping Wyatt’s reference book, “are pretty close. If you can get to them before the man dies from the possession, the man can be saved. If not, he lives in this zombie state indefinitely, until, as in your zombie survival book, he is killed by beheading.”

  “This Abigor has been building his army for centuries,” Ted said amazed.

  “Demon timelines are vastly different from ours,” Mia reminded her husband. “They exist forever, so a few hundred years is nothing to them. The crevice demon zombies could be a small project, a hobby if you will, for Abigor. He already controls sixty legions of demons. I’m not really sure why he’s there at all.”

  “It’s his legions that the Cynosura are after,” Ted said.

  “So why is he warning us?” Mia asked.

  “That is a good question. According to lore, a sacrifice of ten men is needed to bond Abigor. The Cynosura may already have their victims or volunteers.”

  Mia nodded taking in Ted’s warning. “It’s probably why Michael took off so quickly to prepare. I need to get to John Ryan before I’m called. His personal perspective is crucial.”

  Ted looked at his wife. “Go. I’ll take care of Brian, Dieter, and things here until you return.”

  Mia moved quickly around the table and into the arms of her husband. “I will send Murphy back to protect you, just in case this is a ruse.”

  “No, I’ll call Ed. Murphy goes with you,” Ted insisted. “There is no one I trust more in regards to your welfare as I do Murphy. Besides, the trees there are out of this world. Murphy, you’re in for a treat.”

  Murphy smiled. He knew Ted would not want Mia to leave without Murphy watching her back.

  ~

  John Ryan agreed to meet Paolo Santos and Mia at Burt Hicks’s peninsula home. Mia had built the house, designing it herself. She had included many safeguards against unexpected paranormal visitors into the landscaping. As soon as Mia arrived with Murphy, she and Burt salted the perimeter and refreshed the crushed brick.