GHOST OF A GHOST TOWN

The rest of the trip passed in virtual silence; all four of the teens silent, brooding and miserable. How could they be anything but?

It reminded Ethan of his worst moments in the past two and a half years. The night of the school dance, when Jesse had outwitted him; out of sheer spite forcing Sarah to be a full vampire to save Ethan's life. And that very first night of Ethan's adventures fighting evil supernatural forces; the vampire party and Benny and him failing in their efforts to rescue Rory.

Rory was also down; even his optimism flagged with one of his two best friends simply vanishing at the side of the Wendigo. Rory, who would never entirely lose the childish facet of his personality, was struck by the unfairness of it all. Yeah, life could be unfair . . . but to be zombified and stolen away by a demon? What did Benny do to deserve that? For the first time it occurred to Rory that they might actually lose to Stephanie!

Sarah had always considered Benny something of a jerk. But she did like Benny. Sarah didn't consider him that much a jerk, really, not compared to . . . others she knew. Really, with a few exceptions, he was a good-intentioned dork . . . who was just loud, had a big ego and was desperate to get girls to go for him.

And Sarah was intent on driving to the rescue fast as she safely could. But now, the already impossible trail was constantly shrouded in the thick fog that barely allowed her to see ten feet in front of the car.

As for Erica, a small dose of compassion managed to escape from, well, wherever it had been all but locked away the last couple years. Erica's compassion was mixed with stubborn pride; she was angry at being outwitted! Some demon summoned by Stephanie had stolen Benny and already won the upper hand! And they hadn't even hit Leeblaine!

Leeblaine, Leeblaine, Leeblaine. For the last day that was the force of their efforts. And now, as they neared the ghost town's location, even the GPS went out.

"LOST SATELLITE RECEPTION" announced the upper-crust, Englishwoman whom Malcolm preferred as the GPS' voice. "LOST SATELLITE RECEPTION . . . LOST SATELLITE RECEPTION . . . ."

"There's no reason for the satellite to go out; there's definitely something wrong about this place" said Ethan worriedly, as Sarah turned off the GPS. "We're in the open air."

"Something else wrong besides this being the headquarters of a witch, guarded by a cross between a dead moose and the walking-skeleton of the star forward on the basketball team?" said Erica sardonically.

"I wish Benny was here" Ethan told Sarah. "Not only so he'd be alive, but Mrs. Weir is endlessly giving him lessons on the finer points of being a spellmaster. He must know how exactly our GPS signal is being blocked. It's weird . . . usually magic has no effect on our electronics."

"Must be the hills" said Rory, looking into the foggy gloom.

"Not the hills, it must be the fog" said Ethan. "What are the chances of both our satellite signal fading and a heavy fog appearing just before we reach Leeblaine?"

"The ghost town's on a lake, Ethan" said Sarah. "And we're surrounding by rocky hills. But . . . I think you're right. What . . . are those?"

The road suddenly became unbearably bumpy. Out of thin air, a pair of railroad tracks appeared and the car now bounced magically over the tracks and ties that had been removed decades ago.

Magically was the word, as the Challenger rode too low to be driven atop railroad tracks through ordinary means.

"Why the heck . . . why the frack . . . did they leave these in the middle of a snowmobile trail?" complained Rory, as his seatbelt didn't stop him from bouncing his head on the ceiling a couple times. "Whoah! Oof! Ow."

Rory pulled down his tuque, and like everybody else was already doing, held onto the side of the seat.

"They didn't leave these tracks" said Sarah, as she gripped the steering wheel hard. "This is another one of Stephanie's spells."

Ethan didn't say anything, but did his best to growl as little as possible.

"What next!" Ethan finally said sulkily.

What was next was the car finally rounding a curve and Sarah again hitting the brakes.

Everything here was as silent as the grave. Not a human voice, not even a sound made by an animal. But that wasn't what attracted everybody's attention.

Out of the mist had appeared a wooden frame station, painted neatly blue and white, with a long concrete platform and the words "LEEBLAINE, ELEVATION 1545 FEET". On the near side of the station was a round conical tower with high turrets shaped, appropriately enough, like a witch's hat. Beyond the round tower, a bay window protruded towards the tracks, where the station master had worked in a bygone era. Past the bay-window was another door to the station, a large cargo door to the freight room, and some french doors leading to an office marked "CUSTOMS" with a flagpole and flag flying atop.

Beyond that, was a water-tower also marked "LEEBLAINE".

"That tower's obviously for a steam train" said Ethan, with a sinking feeling. "That's why it's open on top and next to the station."

"None of this should be here" Rory objected. "Ms. Blaine says there's nothing left of the town."

"And that ad should also be long gone" said Sarah bitterly.

Above the platform, on the side of the station, was the sign "GUESTS OF THE LEEBLAINE HOTEL: PLEASE WAIT IN NORTH WAITING ROOM FOR CAR TO HOTEL."

"This is really, really, really wrong" said Ethan, sinking in his seat. "Look at the flag above the customs office."

"Yeah" said Rory, thinking carefully. "If that's a customs office, the Canadian flag should be there. Why do they have the Ontario flag?"

"So?" said Erica, impatiently. "Why are you wasting your time with flag-etiquette?"

"That's not the Ontario flag" said Ethan, as he stuck his head out the window to get a better look. "The Ontario flag has the Ontario Coat of Arms in the middle. That's the Canadian Coat of Arms. Super-sight. That's the old school Canadian Flag, it was replaced with the Maple Leaf Flag almost fifty years ago."

"Oh yeah" said Rory. "When the Canadian guy was playing the chess master from SPECTRE at the start of From Russia with Love, they had that behind him instead of the Maple Leaf. So . . . we . . . went back in time? AWESOME!"

"I am not going to live my life over fifty years ago" announced Erica indignantly. "We better get . . . I'm not going to say it!"

"BACK . . . TO . . . THE . . . FUTURE" announced Rory, gleefully. "But man, we've gotta find Benny first, and right away too. I bet they're keeping him at the hotel."

"The Windego is?" asked Sarah skeptically. "He . . . it . . . doesn't really seem the indoors-type."

"Maybe Benny's prisoner at the hotel, but I don't think we're back in time" said Ethan. "This is more like . . . the ghost of Leeblaine fifty years ago. There's nobody here, and it's absolutely quiet.

"The ghost of a ghost town" said Sarah, laconically. "That explains the fog, the GPS, and why Stephanie would hide here.

"She's created her own pocket dimension" Ethan observed.

"What!" said Erica.

"The same thing that Benny's Grandma did to Ethan, Sarah and Benny to teach them a lesson about working together" Rory said. "Remember! But . . . this must be an evil pocket dimension."

"And there's no telling what's around here" said Sarah.

"It seems that this dimension works differently than Mrs. Weir's" Ethan mused. "Anyone can wander in . . . and anybody who wanders here besides us Stephanie wants to have killed. But what does she want to do with us?"

"Benny said a fate worse than death" said Rory, who received three glares for his trouble. "Come on dudes . . . and dudettes. Don't shoot the messenger!"

"Dudettes?" said Sarah. "I don't know if I should be insulted or laugh."

"Insulted" Erica replied tersely.

"I think we should skip the station" interrupted Ethan, "And . . . just go direct to the hotel"

"I don't see how looking around a deserted train station would help us" said Sarah. "Do you smell sulphur or rot around here?"

"No, why?" said Ethan, before sighing and giving a half-hearted smile. "Oh, I get it. From seer to bloodhound, in about two weeks time."

Sarah laughed at Ethan's joke.

"Ah, come on, Ethan" said Rory. "We never whined about our superpowers. We just boomeranged evil powers against evil forces."

"You have a point" Ethan admitted. "I might even enjoy sniffing Stephanie out."

"We might enjoy driving onto a real road" added Sarah. "There it is, on the other side of the customs office.

The road had a chip-seal pavement; driving upon it led to a sharp grind on the tires that echoes through the silent woods. As for Leeblaine itself, it became quickly obvious that Ethan and Sarah's conclusions were right. It was a pocket dimension. And Rory was right about it seeming to be downright evil.

Looking into the mist, all four of them had the feeling they were being watched.

Ethan sniffed compulsively for a while; but couldn't smell a thing outside the car aside from the fog. Not rot, not grass, not wood. They might well have been in the ghost of a ghost town.

The buildings by the station were few, and reflected a small town that had only been kept alive by the large resort on the outskirts. In this era of the dying town's history, there was little left of mining or logging aside from a sawmill just beyond the station. After the sawmill, the road abruptly dipped down and passed under the railroad embankment through a narrow, stone tunnel.

"CLEARANCE TWENTY FEET" advised the sign. "YIELD TO ONCOMING TRAFFIC".

The tunnel emerged into a mist-shrouded copse of trees. The trees in turn gave way to a hazy view of the one main street. The teens' view was now dominated by tall houses of either siding or red brick. There had been smaller homes and bunkhouses for miners and loggers in the past; but they were gone now, at least Ethan so judged by the number of vacant and tree covered lots.

A fine brick general store was the major business. There was an old-style newspaper box in front advertizing the Winnipeg Free Press.

"Can you stop?" asked Ethan. "I want to get a newspaper!"

"I get the idea" said Sarah. "I can go with you."

"No, I can get there okay" said Ethan.

"I don't get it!" said Rory, who then decided to focus and think why. "Why . . . whoa, I understand . . . the date."

Ethan exited the car, and walked slowly across the street out, carefully gripping onto the water-gun in his holster. The newspaper box advertized a nickle for the paper, which Ethan provided.

Ethan practically ran back to the car.

"August 16, 1956" Ethan read. "I think I get it. That photograph in the book, the painting in the hotel suite."

"Stephanie's recreated the hotel and town as it was, back in 1956" said Sarah.

"And not exactly in the way of shadows of things that have been" said Ethan warily. "Maybe I'm not the expert on magical spells, but I'm betting this had to take a lot of power. Even Mrs. Weir limited us to spending some time in Whitechapel High pocket dimensions.

"If it wasn't for Sarah, I'd so be gone now" said Erica.

"You're not serious" said Sarah, surprised.

"You promised to help" protested Ethan, suppressing the start of yet another growl.

"Help you find a witch" retorted Erica. "Not go into another dimension, as you put it."'

"You can go back anytime you want" said Ethan sarcastically. "Maybe it's not too late to catch the next train."

"Awesome if a train actually stopped there" asked Rory. "Where would it go? You know, a ghost train at a ghost station in a ghost town along ghost tracks?"

"No where we'd want to go" Sarah said.

"I bet" said Ethan, before turning to Rory in exasperation.

Ethan was friendly-enough, but impatient. Ethan had an idea of how Rory thought, in an odd way much like the Non-werewolf Ethan would if he had no caution or common sense.

"Rory, pal, forget how cool it might be in a movie. Think about how dangerous a move like that is in real life. This place is deadly!"

Rory nodded; he was more careful these days . . . he would never board a ghost train from a ghost station in a ghost town in a witch's pocket dimension! Rory had only been talking about how crazy-cool it would be!

"Yeah . . . I guess . . . any news in the paper?" said Rory, abruptly changing the topic, "Ethan-style."

"Since when were you interested in the news?" Ethan retorted sharply.

"Since it's a 1956 paper" said Rory. "You don't get a new sixty-five-year-old paper everyday."

"Nothing interesting, the headline is some meeting between the British and French about the Suez Canal" said Ethan. "And . . . the actor who played Dracula, Bela Lugosi. He died today . . . or he died in 1956 . . . aged 73."

Ethan sat back, remembering his dream from the night before. Coincidence? Or did it mean, that deep down, his "gift" was still there, buried under the curse put upon him?

Past the general store was a post office and then a fire-hall. At one point there was an old school, with bell and belfry and another flagpole flying the old flag.

Finally, at the edge of town they reached a point where the road rose up to the hotel by the lake. Now they could see the Leeblaine Hotel itself, a massive granite building atop a hill peaking above the trees. The main building's top floor and castellated roof were decorated with the bronze ornaments, copper finishing and sharp delineations that were features of the Art Deco style. And above the main roof rose three square towers whose vertical lines were capped with decorative copper battlements stained black by the fresh northern air.

"I can see why Ms. Blaine misses the place" said Ethan.

"I think it's looks way cooler than the hotel in Thunder Bay" added Rory petulantly. "Even if it's a ghost hotel."

"Never mind that it stands out or looks cooler" said Sarah contemptuously. "That hotel isn't supposed to be there. In fact . . . over there, that's the only building that isn't new."

"And I know why!" said Ethan. "It must have been the town church."

The church was a colourless wood frame building with a steeple being the only indicator that it had been a place of worship. Old, yet still standing. Alone at the end of town, its grass and the cemetery was weedy.

It had what Ethan recognized as a blue historical plaque, put up in many places to mark the history of a person or building.

"It's the only thing from our time" said Ethan, to the others. "Do you have your water guns?"

"We're not getting out here" complained Erica.

But everyone did. The mist enveloped them as they crossed into the churchyard, and left them surrounded in a small island surrounding the church . . . . suggesting that Leeblaine was, actually, long abandoned.

And, on the lonely lot, they each read the sign saying that the Town of Leeblaine had been finally abandoned when the railroad line and hotel closed down.

"Why is this the one place that's real?" asked Erica. "It doesn't make sense."

Sarah gave her a look of surprise. Ethan frowned. Rory had his forehead furrowed in concentration, so he was the one who told Erica.

"Nuh-uh" said Rory, as seriously as he could. "If you'd been with us when we fought the vamps in Toronto, it'd make perfect sense. Vamps have no right near anything sacred."

"Stephanie's a witch, not a vampire" said Erica.

"She or her master have no right to duplicate anything sacred" said Ethan. "Whatever spell they're doing. And even thinking of trying to do it magically . . . nobody has the right to do that."

"As immortals we had no problem going to Jesse's old churchyard" Erica reminded Ethan. "Hallowed ground isn't a thing. At least in North America."

"Jesse was digging up the cubile animus" Ethan retorted. "Not going inside and tampering with a house of worship. We're not talking about the ground around here, Erica."

"You forgot that Jesse was actually a reverend of his own church."

"That doesn't count!" said Ethan heatedly.

"You're missing the point, Ethan" said Sarah.

"How?"

"It's not just tampering" said Sarah. "It's the idea of the forces of evil rebuilding a real church through black magic. It's wrong in every way. It's evil in every way."

"Stephanie can't touch the church" said Rory.

The four left the old church to the fog about it and returned to the unpleasant and unholy "pocket dimension" beyond.

But no sooner had they reached the car, and began the drive up to the hotel, than Ethan began to smell the faint but pungent scent of rot and decay.

Author's Note

Leeblaine, Ontario was a real railroad, lumber and mining community. And it was actually on a rail-line at Gunflint Lake. Still, the real Leeblaine had been abandoned long before the nineteen-fifties. The version of Leeblaine here, along with the resort hotel, is entirely a work of fiction.