Note: A day early, just because! :) Thanks to all those reading and following. The issue of the 2.5 year anniversary will be addressed soon. Special thanks to those who left reviews, including EvergreenDreamweaver, DrumBoy100, Paulina Ann, max 2013, TinDog, Erin Jordan, Caranath, bmsh, hbndgirl, and sm2003495. You are all very appreciated!
Civil Skirmishes
Chapter 3
Joe ran as quickly as he could in the direction of the scream. Despite the fact that it was the night before the anniversary of the battle, the streets were relatively quiet and deserted, the much larger crowd expected early tomorrow. He caught his breath as he surveyed his surroundings, listening again for the scream which had suddenly gone silent.
A moment later, he heard a sound behind him and whirled around, ready to confront his attacker, only to be faced with a startled Vanessa. "There you are!" she began. "Do you know how hard it is to run in heels?" she asked, gasping for breath.
Joe shook his head. "Yeah, babe. I do it every other day," he replied, rolling his eyes. He placed a finger to his lips before speaking in a whisper. "I wish you would have stayed behind, but now that you're here- see if you can listen for -"
Again, out of the night, a piercing scream for help rang out. Grabbing Vanessa's hand, he ran with her towards the sound.
"There! It sounds like it's coming through that window!" he exclaimed, and Vanessa gasped.
Joe ran down the street past several storefronts, until he reached what looked to be an old bookstore based on the window display. Quickly, he surveyed the scene, half recognizing the name of "Nellie's Novels and Novelties" that he had passed earlier with Vanessa. The scream rang out again.
"Van! Can you see anything?" he asked. "Hello? Hello?" he called into a window that was open a crack.
"Joe! Oh my God! Look!" Vanessa cried out, as she peered into the darkness of the store. "I think I see someone!"
Joe raised his hands above his eyes and squinted into the darkness. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but, when they did, he froze. It all happened so quickly. A figure in a dark cape of the time period was attacking another dark figure, also in a cape, with what appeared to be a sword! The attacker looked up in shadows, and then, to Joe and Vanessa's horror, they watched as a sharp object descended and a final scream rang out. The attacker appeared to look directly at Joe and Vanessa, and then turned and ran in the opposite direction in the store.
Running to the front of the store, Joe quickly realized that he couldn't kick in the door or the window, as both were gated. He grabbed the bars to see if they were loose and shook them, but to no avail. "Damnit," he muttered under his breath.
He ran back to the window, where Vanessa still stood, horrified, and looked inside at the figure on the floor in the distance. "Van, call 9-1-1. Now!" he commanded, more forcefully than he intended to.
"I'm going after the guy," he huffed as he sprinted towards an alley. Running quickly to the back of the store, he could see right away that the rear door was thrown open. He didn't have time to check on the woman. If Vanessa had called 9-1-1, help would be arriving any moment. Quickly, he looked down in the dark, searching for anything to suggest which way the assailant had fled. But, as he turned around, the night was deadly calm, and, he realized as the adrenaline started to die down, it would be pretty foolish to head after a possibly armed criminal in the darkness.
A criminal who had looked up… and had seen him. And Vanessa.
The thought was enough to calm him as he got his bearings and headed back to the storefront to make sure Vanessa was okay. In the distance, he heard sirens.
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Two hours later, Joe and Vanessa had finished being questioned by the Gettysburg police chief, and had been told not to leave town, since they were the primary witnesses of the attack. They had both related their stories several times, and found out that the woman who had been attacked, Nellie Pabst, was a co-owner of the bookstore with her husband, Archie. She was in serious condition at the local hospital, and the police would be questioning her first thing tomorrow. Finally, close to 10:30, Joe and Vanessa were free to go with a strong warning that they would be called upon soon again, and one of the officers drove them back to their lodging.
"That was a hell of a night," Joe said to Vanessa as they entered their room. "How are you holding up?" he asked her, genuinely concerned. Vanessa had been a trooper all day, but he could see how terrified she had been. He reached for her hand as she sat down on an antique chair, and knelt beside her.
She took a deep breath. They had been separated at the station, unable to talk, really, and she'd been far more scared than she would have liked to admit. "I… I guess I'm okay," she answered shakily. "I just keep seeing that poor woman get hurt and then I flash to that face in the shadows looking in our direction." She shivered.
"I know, babe," he replied, understanding. "Sometimes I forget that you're not used to all of this. Once in a while, me or Frank will tell you a little about what we see all the time, but we generally keep the nitty gritty stuff to ourselves. I'm sorry you had to see that. I know how much you were looking forward to this vacation, and I feel bad that you've been through this."
Vanessa nodded weakly. "Are you okay?" she asked him, squeezing his hand. "The police must have asked you the same questions they asked me, but I didn't have a lot to go on. I just kept repeating myself."
Joe stood up and motioned for her to stand beside him. When she did, he hugged her gently to him. "They do that," he said to her, running his fingers through her hair. "They want to make sure that you're telling the truth." His mind flashed back to a case, years ago, when his former girlfriend had had a very similar reaction to Vanessa. Almost by instinct, he started to tell her about it. "Iol-" he began, but stopped at once, pursing his lips when he realized what he'd said. Why had he said that? Why was he thinking of her now?
"What?" Vanessa asked, pulling back.
Recovering quickly, he stated, "I owe you an explanation," he covered, quickly. "For, uh, why I yelled earlier," he rambled, thinking on the spot. "I guess I was just so focused on finding the perp that I couldn't worry about the victim. Thanks for thinking so quickly for me and for calling the police and ambulances. You may have saved that woman's life."
"Okay," Vanessa said at last, shaking her head. She was exhausted and had a headache; was scared about the events of the night and still disappointed in Joe's forgetfulness. She normally would have called him on his crappy lie- why had he mentioned Iola?!, but she didn't have the wherewithal tonight. Tomorrow might be a different story.
"I have to get changed," she said, simply, and he nodded, kissing her head.
"Okay, babe," he said ruefully. "Me, too. It's been a long night."
Vanessa broke free of his embrace, giving him a small smile. As she turned to get her things, she glanced at her watch and gasped. "Oh no!" she groaned, the night getting worse and worse.
"What?" Joe asked, startled. "Are you okay?"
Vanessa sighed heavily. "Yeah. But Frank and Callie might want to know why we didn't show up for the ghost tour."
Joe felt his eyes grow wide. "Oh, man." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Sure enough, there had to be at least five or six texts from his brother, asking where he was and if he was okay. Taking a cue from Joe, Vanessa reached into her purse and saw similar texts from Callie.
"Well, at least they went on the tour," Vanessa said at last. "I can't believe I forgot to call them."
"I've got it, babe," Joe replied heavily. "Go on. Get ready for bed. You need to rest."
"Thanks," she replied, as she turned back towards the bathroom.
Wearily, Joe looked again at his phone, typed a message, and hit "SEND."
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"Where are they?" Frank asked Callie in a low voice. It was 9:05, and the tour would be starting any minute. Joe and Vanessa should have met them close to twenty minutes ago, and he'd already texted Joe three times.
Callie looked around at the surrounding crowd and frowned. "I don't know, honey. I texted Vanessa, too, and I haven't heard back from her, either."
Frank checked his watch again and ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "Maybe I should check."
Callie felt a small smile tug at her lips as she looked up at him and took his hand in her own.
"What?" he asked her. "You think I'm over-reacting?" He raised his brows.
"No," she replied carefully. "Not necessarily. God knows that Joe finds trouble. It's just that…" she paused, then let out a small laugh. "I mean, it's their anniversary tonight- two and a half years- and I could see them potentially getting distracted, if you know what I mean."
"It is?" Frank asked, surprised. "Joe never mentioned that."
Callie gave him a questioning glance. "Well, that's more mysterious than their no-show tonight," she quipped lightly. "I know Vanessa was looking forward to tonight. That's why she planned the nice, romantic dinner with Joe."
"Hmmm," Frank responded. Then he let out a small chuckle as he stomach growled. "Ah, dinner. Yeah, I miss food."
Callie blushed and bit her lip. "Oh, I don't know," she said breezily. "I didn't mind missing the meal so much."
Frank slipped an arm around her waist and looked into her eyes. "Tell ya what. After this tour, we'll get a light meal- something- and then…" he whispered in her ear, "wait til you get dessert."
Callie blushed even more and rolled her eyes, smiling as Frank kissed her cheek.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the tour is about to start. Please. Gather around," an older gentleman called out to the crowd.
Callie took out her phone again. "Nothing," she said in a soft voice to Frank. "Are you worried? You can check it out. I just think it'd be odd that BOTH of them aren't answering their phones, which leads me to believe that they're most likely okay."
"You're probably right," Frank admitted. "Want to stay here for the tour, then? I wouldn't even know where to start to look for them anyway- well, other than the obvious, and, if you're right, that is NOT something I want to walk in on accidentally." He shuddered.
Callie giggled. "Seriously!" she agreed. "But if Van couldn't make it, I'm sure she'd want to know what she missed. Let's get some stories for her and tell her what we found. Maybe she can book another tour in the next few days and compare info."
"Okay. Sounds good," Frank replied, and reached for her hand as they began the two hour walking tour.
Frank found himself far more interested than he would have thought, and, as he glanced at his girlfriend, he could see that the tour was having the same effect on her. Their guide was excellent, weaving tale after tale and answering the numerous questions from the large group. One place and story was literally more haunting than the next. The group traveled up and down the backstreets of Gettysburg proper, and visited a few of the homes, churches, and schools that were supposedly surrounded by spirits of all kinds: some gentle, some angry, some just lost. The guide even mentioned a tour on July 2nd that would involve a campout overnight near Devil's Den that, he cautioned, was not "for the weak of heart," and Frank made a mental note to tell Vanessa about it. Even though he didn't personally believe in ghosts, he had fun listening to the stories, and he knew that Callie, who had a tendency to trust more in inexplicable things like this, was completely captivated.
At 10:30, on the way back to the tour center, the guide stopped the group. Frank looked up at the large cobblestone building in front of him. There was something grand about it, as if it had borne witness to much in its existence. "Isn't it lovely?" Callie whispered to him, holding onto his arm as if she felt a chill. He looked down at her and slipped his arm around her shoulders, warming her.
"It is," he replied softly. "You okay? Are you cold?" The temperature had been dropping as night had descended, but her reaction, and the reaction, it seemed, of many people in the crowd, seemed to suggest another kind of chill altogether.
"Yeah. I'm fine," she replied in a low voice, but snuggled closer to him nonetheless. He hugged her gently.
"Now, we've come to a real treat," he began jovially. "The wonderful Smytheville Inn has been around since prior to the battle, and still remains open today as one of the most exclusive bed and breakfasts in all of Gettysburg and the surrounding areas. It was an important building during the war, serving as a temporary hospital for soldiers who had been injured in battle. Now, ordinarily we wouldn't stop here, because the building, though historic, hasn't exactly been known for hauntings. But some people claim that that's started to change."
"Why?" Frank found himself asking, curious.
"I was just about to explain, young man," he answered, affably. "You see, last year was one of the major milestones of Gettysburg, 145 years since the battle. At that time, strange happenings were reported here. The owners are real sensitive about it, think its bad publicity for the place, and maybe it is. But it sure is fascinating."
"What kinds of things?" a young boy of about fourteen asked.
The guide smiled. "Well, some people say that the temperature started changing when people walk by, as if there're spirits around all of a sudden."
There were several gasps from the audience, and Frank suppressed a smile as he felt Callie move even closer to him. The story might be nonsense, but at least it had its benefits!
"And that's not all," the guide, Jerry, went on. "Some people say that they hear screams in the middle of the night, or creaking on the stairs. Others claim that they hear the moans of the wounded, and still others claim to have seen things physically blown off shelves, lights flickering, spirits actually touching them as they sleep."
"Is that true?" an older woman asked, captivated.
"Who can tell?" the guide replied as he shrugged. "But I CAN tell you this. A whole lotta people are starting to get scared, because, since last year, this place has become a hotspot for ghost hunters and the like, and people claim that they're actually getting hurt, that the spirits of the night are out for revenge."
Frank tried not to roll his eyes as he noticed how worried the crowd looked. He could tell that Callie was totally enthralled with this legend as well.
"And that's not the worst of it," the guide went on. "This year, on January 1, New Year's day, six months after the anniversary of the first day of the battle- a woman actually died under mysterious circumstances. People say she was perfectly healthy until she saw- well, a ghost- and rumor has it that the ghost soldier sucked the very spirit out of her. She never made it out."
Several crowd members started talking as the guide tried to calm them, reminding them that the tour would be ending very soon.
Frank felt his phone buzz and pulled it out, releasing a breath of relief when he realized it was from his brother. "Sry didnt txt b4. All gd. Hve bg stry 4 u. Stp by tmrw mrn. Cll 1st."
Callie, curious, stopped him briefly. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," he answered. "I heard from Joe." He showed her the phone. "What do you make of this?"
"Either Joe stopped believing in vowels or he missed kindergarten spelling," she replied with a small smile.
Frank chuckled as they watched the group start to settle down. "I'm just glad he's okay," he responded.
"Me, too," she admitted.
As Frank was about to reply, all of a sudden, loud screams pierced through the air as the sound of gunfire blasted out through the two of the top story windows and glass shattered. Before he could process what was happening, a huge section of scaffolding, that had been set up on the front of the home, ostensibly for repairs, started to crash down and headed right at the crowd, breaking apart on the way down.
Frank instinctively pushed Callie out of the way before her felt something smash into the side of his head, and then all went black.
