Page 18 of Mack's Horribly Hellacious Ghost Town
A piercing scream rang from the back of the house. I sprinted, pocketing my phone and drawing my rock salt pistol as I moved. Mack was right behind me—I could hear him moving.
When I reached the back bedroom, I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. An energy was tearing through it like a tornado, swirling so fast it tore up everything—bedding, books, knickknacks, all of it. I couldn’t see the cause, but I could guess. Gwyn huddled in the corner with her hands over her head.
“Brandon, the gun,” Mack urged me.
I slapped it into his hand, and he took three quick shots into the room, the rock salt hitting something. The whirling abruptly stopped. Then the window exploded out as the entity fled. The silence in its wake was just as loud as the whirlwind before it, cut only by Gwyn’s sobs of terror.
I immediately checked Gwyn over, not seeing much. Just her hair mussed up, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You okay?”
She nodded, sniffling, but her hands latched on to my shirt.
Yeah, I didn’t blame her. Turning my head, I demanded of my fiancé, “What the hell was that?”
“That, mon cher,” he said grimly, “was a six. Gwyn, up you come. I cannot leave you here any longer, this place is too defenseless.”
I pulled Gwyn up, keeping her tucked under my arm. Her parents stared into the room as if they couldn’t believe what their eyes saw. McNabb looked grim.
“The two suitcases,” Gwyn whispered, pointing at two purple hardcases lying on their sides.
Oh, she’d packed already? She must have just thrown things in. I nodded, handing her off to Mack, and grabbed them. Heavy, as expected of a teenage girl.
“Wait,” Mr. Fairchild demanded. “Wait, you can’t just take her and leave. I don’t understand what’s going on! What the hell happened in here?”
I tried to be patient—in his shoes, I’d be putting up a whale of a fight too. “That, sir, was an entity. A ghost who went on a rampage. Your daughter’s untrained power is attracting the wrong type of attention right now. It’s why we can’t leave her here.”
Her mother scoffed. “Oh, she did this. She threw things around to make it look like a ghost tore up her room. She’s done it before.”
“You and I both saw things being thrown around with Gwyn huddled in a corner,” Mack snapped. “That’s some trick for her to pull off. Not to mention, how do you explain the window breakingoutwardwhen no one threw anything at it?”
She stared at the window, and you could see the barest flicker of curiosity, like she realized he was right and she had no explanation.
And still, neither parent looked to see if their daughter was hurt. Scared. Nothing. God, no wonder she had latched on to Mack and me so fiercely. The first adults to not only believe her but prioritize her safety. It made me all the more determined to protect her from here on out.
“No, she’s just figured out some trick. Likely from the internet.” Mr. Fairchild’s mind closed off again immediately. I could physically see it happen on his face. “I told you, she’s not a Medium. She’s a teenage girl who wants to be special, that’s all this is. Gwyn, what did you do in here to create the whirlwind? Don’t you understand what kind of trouble you’re bringing down on our heads by acting like this?”
Where was Don when I need him? I needed his patience. I struggled with the urge to restrict Fairchild’s airway.
I sighed. Can’t punch people, me. Be an adult. “McNabb?”
“Yup.” He took hold of both parents and pulled them away from the door, clearing us a path. “Come this way, Fairchilds.”
I seriously owed him a beer. I carried the suitcases as we walked out of the damaged room. We beelined for the door, letting McNabb handle the upset parents. Gwyn wouldn’t even look at them or say goodbye as she marched through the front door.
Did it count as neglect if you ignored a child’s desperate plea for help? I thought so. I had issues with Mack’s mother, but at least Adelle had believed her son. And gotten him help, eventually. These parents would never do so.
Both parents called after Gwyn desperately. I was in no mood to linger and make it easy for them to kick up a fuss. Mack loaded Gwyn into the back, climbing in with her. I threw both suitcases into the trunk before getting into the driver’s seat.
McNabb lost control over Mr. Fairchild and he sprinted out the door, pounding his fists on the window next to where Gwyn sat. “Gwyn! Gwyn, get the hell out of that car, now! What are you playing at? Why are you doing this to us?”
Gwyn rolled down the window a few inches. Her voice was firm as she spoke, no waver in her words. “If I stay with you anymore, I’ll wind up dead, and you’ll blame it on my klutziness. I love you, Dad, but I can’t live with you anymore. I’m tired of you acting like I’m a liar when it’s you who can’t see the truth. Let’s go, Brandon.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She had spunk, this kid. And her parents were going to grovel a lot when they finally did come around. It might take twenty years for it to happen, with the way their minds were closed, but I looked forward to the day.
I put the car in reverse, not too bothered if I accidentally ran over his foot. Unfortunately, he backed off a pace, still yelling, desperately trying to get me to stop. I didn’t. I put the pedal tothe metal as soon as I was in the street and got as much distance between us as I could. Definitely needed to switch hotels.
“Ma petite, how are you?” Mack asked gently.
Gwyn sat on his question a few seconds before answering in a soft voice. “I don’t know. I thought if two FBI agents told them about me, they’d finally believe me. I’ve been treated like a liar my entire life, and that burned, but I thought with you and Brandon telling them, they’d finally admit they were wrong. They’d stop acting like this. Why couldn’t they believe you?”
