Page 44 of Ghost Hunted

I want him.

But I also want to be free.

At least, I’m pretty sure I do.

11

Lia

Jane, Jane, Jane, Jane.

I wake up from an uneasy slumber, my body drenched in cold sweat. I’m lying under linen sheets.

I can’t remember going to bed. I can’t remember where I am. I don’t remember anything but driving down the road, the cold Irish wind blowing through my hair.

But now, I’m in a tiny room, and I’m alone.

Not entirely alone, though: on the other side of the door, I hear murmurs.

Panic seizes me. Where am I? Do they have me? Did they take me?

I can’t handle it. I can’t handle being locked up again with only those spots of black surrounding me. A crowd of masks. Or maybe they weren’t masks… maybe they were black holes. Constellations of black holes, ready to suck me into an endless vacuum.

The murmurs grow louder. Frantically, I hunt around the room, and my eyes land on a massive gun… or a tiny cannon. A bazooka.

The word sounds familiar… like I’ve just heard it. But I can’t remember where. I can’t remember anything but a baby named Jane and a constellation of black holes.

I grip it, leaning the heavy weapon over my shoulder. I don’t know the first thing about shooting a gun, let alone a bazooka, but I know I have it in me to do a lot worse than that, as long as it means keeping Jane from them.

I push open the door with a foot and wave the bazooka threateningly.

I don’t see any black holes in front of me. At least, I don’t think so; maybe I do. Maybe the black spots in my vision are the holes.

But they looked different before. They were attached to heads. Now, though, it’s my own vision that’s decorated with them, as if I’m about to pass out.

“Lia?”

I frown. How do they know my name?

There are four people in front of me. A redheaded girl, a man with wavy black hair wearing a hoodie, and another one with tan skin and brown curls who’s shirtless and heavily bandaged. They look familiar, but I don’t think I’ve seen them before.

And then, there’s someone dressed all in white, some sort of doctor, like the one who pulled Jane out of me then handed her to the black holes. I angle my bazooka at him.

“Give her back to me.”

“Lia.” The brown-haired man speaks, while the redhead inches back, her face frozen in shock. Meanwhile, the man with the hoodie looks on with vague interest.

“Oh, shit…” The doctor stares at the bazooka, then at me. “What the hell?”

“Lia, baby.” I blink at the man who spoke before. “Baby, it’s okay. Let’s put down the bazooka, okay?”

“No. No. He needs to give her back to me.” I wave the bazooka at the doctor, whose pale face has taken on a greenish tint.

“Okay. He will. Let’s put down the bazooka, and then we can ask him whatever we want. Okay, baby?”

“No. Stop.” I take a step back, aiming at him now. He pauses as I threaten him with it. “Stop or I’ll shoot.”

He doesn’t look scared like the doctor, only upset. “Okay, Lia. Okay, I’m stopping. Let’s talk, okay?”