9

Emma paced the kitchen, glancing every now and then at her watch. Her stomach rumbled, as if she needed a reminder that she hadn't eaten all day. Chris still wasn't back. Even given the condition of the roads, he should have returned hours before.

She'd gotten a fire started in the living room but could not sit still long enough to warm up. For a while she'd busied herself randomly cleaning things that didn't need to be cleaned. Now she just paced. She'd tried calling Chris on his cell phone, but he didn't answer. She was beginning to feel so isolated, it was ridiculous.

The front door rattled and opened. Emma sighed in relief as Chris came in, carrying several plastic bags. He smiled at her. "Barely made it out with my life. All the stores are like madhouses."

"I was scared to death. Why didn't you answer your phone?" Emma crossed her arms and glared at him. Chris raised his eyebrows, surprised she was angry.

"I didn't take it with me. It died and I couldn't find my car-charger." He put the bags down and stepped forward, pulling Emma against his chest. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"No..."Emma's voice was muffled. She clutched at his shirt. "I want to get out of here."

Chris chuckled and kissed the top of her head. "Seriously? It's a fuckin' mess out there. And the new snow is only making it worse."

She groaned in frustration. She couldn't make him understand what she was feeling because she didn't understand it. She was glad Chris was all right but could not shake the feeling of dread that had settled over her.

He pulled back and looked down, meeting her eyes. "You're really freaked out aren't you? What is wrong with you?"

"I don't know!" Emma pushed away from him and crossed the kitchen to the back door. "I don't know." She whispered it again as she watched the snow fall through the glass.

"Come on, Em. We'll figure it out. Let's eat, and then we can talk. Maybe we can come up with something, all right? Just...I don't like seeing you like this." Chris put his hands on her shoulders.

"I don't like being like this." She said softly, watching as her breath fogged the window. A cold chill made her squirm. She wished she could find out what was causing this feeling. She hated feeling so damned helpless.

**

"Hopefully this will do it." Glen set an armload of bags on the couch and shrugged out of his coat. He and Kayla had made yet another run into town. He'd bought a new pair of boots for Jamie, a new pair of jeans to replace the ones Mark had cut to shreds, and a ton of medical supplies. Since Jamie was sleeping, they'd just guessed at things they would need. It was Kayla's idea to grab a light aluminum crutch from one of the pharmacies.

It had been three hours since Mark had taken Jamie upstairs. Mark and Glen had scrubbed the kitchen until every last trace of blood was gone. They had made sandwiches that no one had felt like eating. The rest was just waiting. Mark had moved aimlessly from room to room, window to window, as if hoping to spot the wolf if it decided to return in the falling snow. Glen knew that was kind of pointless considering the visibility outside was less than two feet.

"Should we get her up?" Glen asked, unpacking the bags. He rattled a box of sterile gauze.

Mark shook his head. "She needs to rest. Give her another hour and then we'll have to change her dressing." He gathered up a handful of supplies and carried them into the kitchen to put them up. Glen shared a glance with Kayla.

"Shouldn't you consider maybe taking her to a hospital?" She asked, sorting through one of the bags.

Glen heaved a sigh. "Its complicated."

"When is it ever not complicated?"

"I dunno. If you figure it out, you'll have to tell me." Glen smiled at her and finally stopped fiddling with the bags. "How about a drink?"

Kayla shrugged. "Sure." She followed him into the kitchen. Mark and Glen took a seat at the table while she stood near the sliding glass doors that led outside. The two men didn't seem to be in a mood to talk, so Kayla didn't bother them. Instead she amused herself by puffing her breath across the glass to fog it, and drawing patterns in the fog before it disappeared.

"You're going to have to clean that off you know." Glen said conversationally, watching with a smirk as Kayla ignored him and did it again.

"You guys need a television. Or a radio at the very..." She trailed off. Mark and Glen both looked at her expectantly. "What is this?"

"What is it?" Glen half rose from his seat, almost expecting to see the wolf charging the door. Instead there was nothing but swirling snow. Until Kayla stepped to the side. She pointed at the window. There was nothing there.

"Wait...watch..." Kayla leaned close long enough to puff out a soft breath. It faded quickly at the heat from the kitchen. But on the outside of the window more fog appeared, puffing across the window from left to right in a wide swathe.

Glen and Mark once more shared a look. They were not nearly as freaked out by it as Kayla was, and maybe freaked was not the word. She'd taken pictures of a ghost earlier after all. She puffed another breath out. This time the fog on the outside of the window covered nearly all of the upper half of glass. There was a soft squeak, the sound of a finger being dragged across wet glass. A line appeared in the fog.

Kayla stepped away as the fog puffed across the window again. Mark and Glen had both risen to their feet as more lines appeared drawn on the window. "How the hell..." Kayla managed to breath out. The lines were joining, forming words. She didn't want to believe it, but there it was. She wished she had her camera with her. It was in her coat pocket in the living room, but she did not want to walk away. Who knew how long this would keep going?

The lines came together. There was one last puff and the fog on the outside once more became stark and white. A gasping noise behind them made all three in the kitchen turn around. Jamie was standing there, her face white, leaning against the wall for support as she stared at the words on the window.

"Hello, Jimmie." Mark said it out loud. That was what had been written on the window in staggered letters. He looked to Jamie with a frown of worry on his face before stepping near her in case she fell down.

She ignored him for the time being, watching as the words on the window began to fade. The fog once more puffed across the glass, making the message easier to read. "How did...what..."

"What is it?" Mark asked softly, taking her elbow and helping her as she stepped closer to the door. She favored her injured leg, and it must have been hell getting down the steps but no sign of pain crossed her features. Instead, tears of sadness welled in her eyes, turning their soft gray stormy.

"Jimmie was...my brother...he used to call me Jimmie..." She had trouble putting together the words, and forgot about her leg. She put her full weight on it and nearly fell to the floor. She looked up at Mark. "What kind of trick is this?"

"It's not a trick, Jamie." He said, shaking his head.

"We all saw it happen. By itself." Kayla put in, watching as the fog once more began to fade. It puffed out again, left to right, renewing the message. "I think he wants you to say hi back."

"Is it..." Jamie turned her attention back to the door. "John?" More fog appeared on the window. There was one soft squeak, and the letter 'y' appeared. Jamie sucked in a breath. "Hi John...oh...what is..." She couldn't finish. She grabbed onto one of the chairs at the table and managed to collapse into it instead of onto the floor. The fog puffed brighter again, highlighting the message. "What the hell is going on?" Jamie finally asked, her voice sounding watery to her own ears. A tear slid down her cheek and she angrily wiped it away.

There were more squeaking sounds from the window. They all watched as more words formed there.

"What does that mean?" Kayla asked, looking to Jamie. "I know the message, why do I get the feeling the tone is sarcastic?"

The words 'you're welcome' had appeared under the original message. Jamie made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, shaking her head.

"Was that you? Outside earlier?" Again the letter 'y' appeared. "I should have known. You were always so damned pushy..." She sniffled and rubbed her temples. "How is this happening?"

"He wanted to talk to you, I guess." Glen said, watching as the fog dimmed and reappeared. As if whatever it was outside was merely waiting for Jamie to continue her conversation.

"We can't let you in. You know that right?" Mark said in a low voice, causing the two women to look at him, identical expressions of surprised confusion on their faces. There was a hesitation, and a line appeared under the second 'y'.

"What do you mean...we can't let him in?" Jamie asked slowly. "And what are you talking about when you say it?"

Mark shared another look with Glen. "If we let him in, we leave the house open for any kind of spirit that wants to get in. You can't open a doorway for just one, it doesn't work like that. At least, at this house it doesn't."

"I don't get it." Jamie looked from Mark to Glen. "Are you saying this kind of thing happens a lot?"

Glen nodded. "More than either of us care for."

"Is John still out there?" She asked, looking to the window. The fog had faded. At her question it reappeared and another line was drawn under the 'y'. She laughed, although it sounded harsh. "This is scaring the absolute hell out of me."

The fog puffed. The window squeaked. The words 'sorry Jimmie' appeared from nowhere. Jamie slowly rose to her feet and ignored Mark's offered helping hand. She limped painfully to the door until her nose was just a few inches away. "Why can't I see you?" She asked softly. There was nothing to see outside but blowing snow.

The window squeaked. The word 'weak' appeared. Jamie let her head rest against the window for a moment, the icy glass cooling her forehead. "Because of what you did earlier?" Another line under the 'y'. Jamie put her hand to the glass and felt tears course down her cheeks.

"I wonder why he hasn't moved on. You said he died in an accident, right?" Glen asked from behind her. Jamie nodded slowly.

"He fell and..." There was a sharp knock on the window in front of her. She jumped and laughed. "He still interrupts me. He's been dead for years and he's still rude as shit." The message that had begun stopped. Fog puffed up right in front of Jamie's nose. The words 'ha ha' appeared as if by magic. That made her laugh even more. Again there was a light knock on the glass and squeaks as yet another message appeared. 'NO ACCIDENT'. In all capitals. As if it were important. There was a moment of silent hesitation, and the word 'pushed' appeared.

Jamie turned her head to look at the at Mark, Glen and Kayla. "But I thought..."

"Why haven't you moved on, John?" Mark asked. This time the hesitation was longer. Jamie worried that John had left until the squeaking started again. 'Protect Jimmie'. A line appeared under it. And another one. As if it were more important than the fact she was for all intents and purposes sharing notes with her long dead brother. Jamie felt more tears threatening. Mark studied the message. "Are you saying you have to protect her? Or are you telling us to?"

'BOTH'. Again with the capitals. The fog started to dissipated. All of the messages began to fade. "John?" Jamie whispered it. There was nothing for several long minutes. She almost turned away when a small patch of it returned. The squeaking started again. 'Weak' and 'tired' appeared followed by 'rest now'. It ended with a scribbled J that Jamie would have recognized anywhere. It was how John signed off on everything, from paychecks to the rare letter he wrote. The feeling of a presence, of John, disappeared along with his last words. Jamie held her hand against the glass until her palm went numb from the cold, waiting to see if he was truly finished.

"He's gone." Mark said softly, taking her hand and leading her back to the table.

"How do you know?" She sank down, suddenly aware of her aching leg and the stares she was getting from the others. She took a napkin that Glen held out to her and wiped her still watery eyes.

Mark sat down next to her and motioned for Kayla to join them. He only wanted to have to go through this once. And even that was too much. When everyone was settled he looked at Glen before reluctantly speaking.

"Ever since we were kids, we had this weird...ability..." He faltered on the word, as if unsure of it. Glen nodded him on. "Our mom was something of a psychic. None of the obvious guessing shit either, she was the real deal. Hell by the time we were in school we'd seen more kids who were dead than living ones. Mom helped them..."

"She called it 'crossing eternity'." Glen supplied. "The spirits were somehow pulled to her, and she figured out what it was they needed to send them to wherever they were supposed to go."

"So is that what the two of you are doing?" Kayla asked, her eyebrow raised, not sure if she was believing what she was hearing.

"Almost." Mark said, looking at Jamie. "Glen and I were different from the beginning. Because some of the ghosts were afraid of us."

"I know some cage fighters that would be afraid of you two." Kayla said with a smirk.

"Not because of our size. We were kids back then, and it's been happening since we were old enough to realize that the people we were seeing in our house weren't actually there at all." Glen said, grinning.

"Which ones were afraid?" Jamie asked softly. Obviously not John, since he'd been right in their faces, scribbling on their window.

"The bad ones." Mark licked his lips and shook his head. "Some...most...of the spirits Mom dealt with were not bad, just confused. Some just needed to be told they were dead. Some of them needed to say goodbye. But there were a few..."

"The bad ones." Glen took over. "There was one, he'd been killed in prison. He was in prison for torturing and killing six women. Some of them, when they are evil in life, they get stuck in a loop and they want to continue doing what they had done before. And why not? There wasn't a cop in the world who could catch them. It takes a lot of energy for a ghost to make a person feel their presence. Even more to hurt a living person. But for the really evil ones, its like their battery is always charged."

"So how did you get rid of him?" Jamie asked, studying him curiously.

The brothers met eyes again. Mark sighed. "You're not going to like this part." He muttered it softly but she still heard. He cleared his throat. "We were like Mom in a way, because we could actually see the ghosts. Most people can't unless they are connected in some way. But we were unlike Mom because we could actually touch the spirits. If you had seen your brother and you tried to hug him you'd fall right through him. Unless he had the energy to make himself solid for you. Like he apparently did earlier in the day." He looked pointedly at Jamie. She smiled.

"There wasn't time to tell the story."

"There is now. Anyway..." Mark's lips curved into a smirk. "We didn't need them to have the energy. If we could see them, we could touch them. And hurt them. And to get rid of the evil ones, sometimes we have to do things that we normally would not do."

"Things such as..." Kayla prodded.

"Killing them again. Most spirit don't realize they're dead, or they're pissed that they are, and the only thing that works is if we destroy the spirit completely." Mark said, meeting her eyes.

Glen was nodding. "You would think since they are a spirit we couldn't hurt them, but if Mark or I put our minds to it...they're gone in a puff of smoke. They don't move on. Mom always called it the otherworld. That's where the worst of them got sent after we dealt with them. She sensed it was a version of Hell that no human being could imagine. If they go willingly, if they cross, even the evil ones, they just wink out. Job done, collect the afterlife reward I guess. If they fight it, they go to otherworld."

"What about guys like John?" Jamie asked. "Is sticking around this long a version of fighting it?"

Mark shook his head. "No...its different when a spirit hangs around to do damage. John apparently has unfinished business. Whether that is making sure you are kept safe or finding out what really happened to him, we'll have to ask him when he comes back. He's not one of the bad ones."

"So what is going on here that Jamie needs protection?" Kayla asked. Mark and Glen shrugged at the same time.

"Hard telling." Mark said.

"Don't know." Glen spoke at the same time. "The wolf..."

"Obviously doing work for someone else." Mark nodded.

"Hold up...what?" Jamie rubbed her head again.

"Some spirits have an affinity for animals. Usually with a good spirit, it's a cat or dog. A domestic pet. The bad ones always get the animals with a bit more vicious bite."Glen said with a smile.

"Punny." Jamie rolled her eyes. "So you think that wolf that took a chunk out of my leg was doing it because some evil demon spirit told it to?"

Mark shrugged. "Its possible. Although we haven't ever seen a demon." He pointed out.

"Well that's a comforting thought on a cold night." Jamie couldn't keep the sarcasm from her voice. "What the hell could any kind of evil spirit want from me?"

"That's what we have to figure out." Mark reached over and impulsively took her hand, soothing her a little as his fingers traced circles over her skin. "Generally, when this happens, its because the spirit knew you while it was living, and it had you marked for something. Sort of their own version of unfinished business."

"Wait, wait, hold up." Kayla broke into their conversation. "I saw the wolf too. Last night in the woods. Does that mean I'm a target?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." Mark sighed again. "It could be it was stalking you, it could also be that it was looking for Jamie and it ran across you first. It was trying to figure out if you were the one it wanted to begin with."

"What about David?" Jamie asked.

"A friend of ours. We've known him for a long time. He's good at finding the ones who are in trouble and bringing them to where they can get help." Glen answered that one. "Although you must have struck him as something special if he brought you here. Mark and I have been...semi-retired...for a while now."

"How the hell do you almost retire from talking to ghosts?" Jamie asked.

"You find a place away from people and you mark the house so the spirits can't enter unless you invite them. Sometimes it's as simple as asking them to come in. Sometimes you have to use tools. A Ouija board works, or tarot cards." Glen smiled. "This house is protected. And it was a nice vacation. But I gotta admit, I did miss it. Just a little bit."

"I am so confused right now." Jamie said, shaking her head. Kayla smiled at her.

"I'm your vice president in that club." She stretched and yawned. "I need to head back to my house soon. As engrossing as this has been, I'm about done for the day."

"You're not going back there." Glen said.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really. That wolf followed you. We don't know why. So you'll stay here too. Until we figure out what's going on." Glen's tone told them all their would be no argument. Kayla shrugged and smiled at him.

"I need to change my bandage." Jamie had been looking at her injured leg while Glen had lectured Kayla. For the first time Mark noticed that she was still wearing his t-shirt. The white gauze was red in a few places, but it didn't look too bad.

"We got some stuff." Mark helped her to her feet while Kayla went to the living room for the crutch. Jamie got it adjusted and thumped around the kitchen, checking out their supplies.

"All right. Once again, what do you people have against painkillers?" Jamie grouched, noticing there wasn't even a bottle of aspirin on the counter.

"I didn't even think about it." Glen said with a laugh at the look on her face. Mark offered her another shot of bourbon but Jamie shook her head. She kept handing things to him to hold for her. He had an armload already.

"I think the booze has done all it's going to do. Maybe tomorrow someone will drive me to the clinic on the other side of town and I can get some good stuff. Until then I will suffer." She held out a roll of gauze to Mark. "You ready to do this?" He nodded and cast a look toward his brother, who was doing his best not to grin at Jamie's tone of voice. Without a word, Kayla and Glen vacated the kitchen so that Mark could settle Jamie on the table again. He grimly set to work, knowing that she was probably going to be asking for the alcohol before he could get all the tape off her leg.