Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people - living, dead, undead, spirit, or mythological - is purely coincidental. The authors of this story are making no money through this internet publication. If we were, we wouldn't be stuck in a single-bedroom apartment living paycheck-to-paycheck and needing food stamps (Thanks, crappy job market!) The only thing we get out of this story is a longer lifespan through giggling so much. Please enjoy and do not sue. We have nothing you'd want.
Prologue - Lawrence, KS, 8:15 am, October 13
"Kaye!" Connor Theron-Blackwell slowly lowered his hands from his mouth and looked around as the echoes of his shout died into the still, foggy morning. The trees loomed over him as he followed the dirt road further and further from Lawrence, west toward the town of Stull and the entry to Hell that was the Stull Cemetery. Even through his boots, he could feel the growing chill that radiated from the ground in the early morning. His sister wouldn't have been stupid enough to take a case in Stull in October, but as he moved closer to the ill-omened town, Connor started to doubt his faith in her. Kaye was a seasoned hunter who had been much more mobile than he or their younger brother Kiernan had been able to be. She knew the lore of Kansas and Missouri better than any one person in the country, and she would know Stull would be a place to avoid.
"Laurie," Connor said into the radio attached to his backpack strap, "anything?"
There came the sound of a curse over the radio before a female voice replied, "Nothing yet. Tripped over a damn snake hole. I say we move up the road some more, maybe check out that old cemetery that's there. There's been whispers of stuff goin' on there. Maybe she went ta look inta that."
"Our paths will cross about a quarter mile up the road from where I am," Connor told her. "The cemetery isn't up that far from there. I say we salt the perimeter and deal with the ghosts there after we find Kaye. I can see where the path ends from here. I'll wait for you. She really didn't get hold of you last night?"
"Not since we separated after we had dinner. She didn't mention anything about goin' out, but we did discuss the whispers that were goin' about. We even discussed all the rumors about Stull Cemetery, thinkin' maybe it was spillin' over or something."
Connor muttered something not rated for all audiences, playing fully to his military service. "We didn't hear from her after she met you at Applebee's." The three siblings always checked in with each other three times a day: morning, noon, and night. It was a safety measure that had saved their asses more than once. There had been no call from Kaye that morning or the previous night. No texts after 8 pm either, which had only contained an answer to what they wanted to do for their parents' anniversary.
It wasn't like Kaye. Nor was leaving Quartermain - her beloved (and very muddy) black Taurus - parked off the road nearly a mile-and-a-half back up the unmarked county highway. The false bottom in Quartermain's trunk was stocked with the tricks of the hunters' trade, and as far as Connor could see, only one gun was missing, but his sister kept any number of knives concealed on her at all times. He knew of one she kept in a pocket inside her jacket sleeve. Nothing for banishing or exorcism had been taken with her, and if she had been forced to leave Quartermain, she would have taken much more if she was able.
"We'll search until the cemetery," Connor said into his radio. "Then we'll have to go back before Kiernan leads the mounted search our way. It'll be hell explaining if she's got anything on her."
"Roger. Meet you there, Sergeant Beefcake," came Laurie's laughing reply, her Southern accent honey thick.
"Master Sergeant Beefcake," he corrected her.
"Whatever. You're good-lookin' either way. And you know I love ta sink my teeth in ya."
Up ahead, where the two paths crossed, a redheaded woman wearing dark wash jeans, a pair of black leather cowboy boots, and a light green blouse stepped out from among the trees. She had a black backpack hanging from one shoulder and gave Connor a bright smile as he neared.
Connor waved one hand in greeting before turning back to his radio. "Kiernan, I need an update on the search prep so we can get out of here. What's your estimated start time?"
His younger brother answered promptly. "We're going to start spreading out in fifteen minutes. I'll contact you when we break up to start looking. Be careful out there, bro. Any sign?"
"Other than Quartermain up the way here, no. It's up toward the old Church of Grace cemetery west of town. Make sure no one searches 'im but you and another hunter. It'll only set off alarm bells."
"You don't need to tell me twice. Kiernan out." The radio buzzed.
Turning back to the redhead, Connor said, "We have fifteen minutes before they release the hounds on us."
"Well then, we'd best get to lookin'. Cemetery first, then spread out if she's not there?"
Connor nodded. "Don't know how far we'll get, but the cemetery is the best starting point." He turned his tracks up the road to where a low stone wall peeked out of overgrown bushes. The bronze plaque on the side needed cleaning, but in the new light of morning, he could see the word Grace as if he was standing right before it. "If not there, we'll check the site of the church before we let the pros at it." Where the Church of Grace of Lawrence once stood was now a crumbling building needing to be torn down. It stood sagging a mile north of the cemetery. The congregation had never been very large, and the graveyard itself wasn't more than a quarter-mile long by maybe the same wide. Still, it and its long-dead church were some of the vortices of paranormal energy that had popped up around Lawrence as Stull leached into the world around it. Where he stood, Connor was probably still five miles from the Stull town limits, but he could feel - like most hunters - the wisps of cold that radiated from a place that was well and truly haunted. The faint whiff of sulfur would only be detectable outside the cemetery, but it too had started to leave its borders and spread like a plague through the area.
Lauren Frost, Laurie to her friends and family, let a hand rest on the blessed silver knife at her right hip. "Kaye, honey, I really hope you didn't come out this way, and all by your lonesome, 'cuz this is no place for the likes of the living," she muttered as she and Connor headed to the cemetery.
They spread out, keeping well within yelling distance, and searched the cemetery. The whole time they searched, Laurie was careful not to step on graves and would offer up a prayer under her breath every couple of minutes just in case. This close to Stull, there was a big need since no one wanted the dead angry at them.
"Anything?" Laurie asked when she and Connor regrouped at the gate to the cemetery.
Connor shook his head. He hadn't found much of anything besides cold spots hovering over a few graves, and that was completely normal. As he turned to scan the silent graves, his eyes rested on something outside the south wall. It was crumpled in a heap, almost but not quite in the brush that bordered the intersection of the dirt roads. It took him a moment to realize that there was a hand lying in the dust with a feather tattoo on its back nearly covered in dew and grime. A feather which had initials entwined through its middle.
"Kaye!" Without stopping to walk around to the gate, he vaulted the low wall and ran across the road, boots crunching in the gravel shoulder. As he skidded to a stop, he smelled sulfur and saw the gun which had slid a few inches from the out-stretched fingertips. There was a dark splatter congealing in the dirt.
Laurie was close on his heels and put a hand to her mouth in dismay and horror at the state of her best friend. Immediately she shook it off and fell into her professional mode. Laurie, when not spending her free time hunting down things that went bump in the night with the Blackwell siblings and others, was a nurse. Typically she worked in the emergency room at their local hospital, but she also patched up any wounded hunters that passed through. She fell to her knees by Kaye's side and felt for a pulse. "Tell Kiernan we found her and to get medical personnel here on the double. She's got a slow pulse and she's breathing, but I don't know what is wrong with her without getting her to the hospital and examined. Now Connor." Her soft Georgian accented voice didn't raise above normal talking tone, but the absolute command in her voice could be heard as if she'd yelled at the top of her lungs.
Reacting as if she had been his commanding officer, Connor's hand snapped up to the radio on his shoulder. "S-and-R, this is Connor Blackwell. We've found Kaye. Repeat, we found Kaye. We need an ambulance and emergency personnel out at the Church of Grace cemetery. Pulse is slow and weak but regular, breathing shallow. Possible hypothermia. I repeat, we have found Kaye Blackwell and need emergency medical attention at the Church of Grace cemetery on Old Haven Trail."
Through the radio static that followed, Connor heard his brother Kiernan relaying the message and starting to mobilize the emergency units. There was the stamping of hooves and snorting of horses, and Connor heard his twenty-five-year-old brother shout "Jimmy, stay here to show the ambulance where to go" before a horse whinnied, and the background noise was replaced with whistling wind. Kiernan was on his way. Connor stripped off his jacket and wrapped it around his sister's body before he looked to Laurie. "We need to scuff over the demon spore there." He gestured to the dark, wet splash of something behind them. "We won't get Benson because she's not dead, and try explaining how the blood got there to Doc Peterson. He won't take that shit. Give her your jacket and we'll scuff it out."
Laurie quickly untied the dark green jacket about her waist and put it over Kaye. "You hide her weapons. Anybody from the emergency room sees them and there will be quite a few questions I don't want ta deal with." Laurie began scraping her feet in the dirt, covering up the splashes of blood. "We are supremely lucky that Davidson and Buran's daddies and brothers are hunters. Otherwise we'd be messing up a potential crime scene. I don't wanna spend five ta ten in the big house. Granny would die of a broken heart and Daddy would be so ashamed."
Connor gave her a flat look. "I'd be more worried about what would come after you if you kept its blood than the big house. Rumor has it there's a hunter who's a cop in Portland and doctors his reports if he gets something that isn't human, so we're damned lucky we have Davidson and Buran. Never did like Buran much, but Davidson's got his life turned around after he got Ellie May pregnant." Connor fished a bottle from his backpack, unscrewed the cap, and threw it over the remaining blood. It smoked and sizzled, then evaporated before their eyes. He gathered the revolver from the dirt at Kaye's fingertips and stuck that into his pack with the empty bottle. Finally, there was only but to wait for the cavalry.