Borderland Page 5

  Travis nodded in assent.

  “We will help you. Such hatred is not to be wished on anyone.” Voices, blending together in agreement, rising to a fever pitch, the sound carried throughout the confines of Borderland, a vibration that was felt everywhere in the Afterlife.

  Even Jake felt it…the pressure, the sudden change in the atmosphere. He looked around and saw nothing but he discerned a presence. Aware there were eyes watching his every move, he knew there was a force opposing him…making him very angry. He didn’t lash out at them. No, he would bide his time, be patient until he completed his task on earth…that’s what he’d do.

  His newfound consciousness only bolstered his resolve and fueled the wrath. Flying through strange, new land with determination and purpose…he would convince Logan Massey to kill herself just like he did! Her punishment would then be sealed--to spend eternity with him and all the other lost souls looking for salvation, never finding forgiveness, doomed to the Dark forever. Then, and only then, would the craving stop and the gnawing at his soul give way to sweet revenge!

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Arriving back at her apartment after the funeral, Logan resisted the temptation to listen to messages on her voice mail. Instead, she sat down on the couch, a cup of hot tea in her hands, trying to formulate travel plans but without success. She kept thinking about her parents, Jake Turner, Travis and his daughter, Karen.

  Then, the persistent ringing of the telephone brought her back to reality. When the phone transferred over to voice mail, caller ID showed it was Bill Jensen on the line so she quickly grabbed for it, “Hello”.

  “Hi yourself. I thought maybe you had already left. I’ve been leaving messages all day.”

  She smiled. “You and that reporter!”

  “Oh,” with a hint of disappointment in his voice, “I thought maybe I might have convinced him you didn’t know anything. Guess it didn’t work.”

  “Nope, afraid not. He didn’t fall for it.”

  “Are you alright though?”

  Logan, hearing the tenderness in his voice, hoping to make him feel better, “I’m fine. In fact, I’m packing now. I’ll be leaving in the morning.”

  “Good idea! Get in that car and drive until your mind is a million miles away.”

  She spoke softly, “I will.”

  “Take care,” hearing the click, signaling the conversation was over.

  She locked her fingers together behind her neck and slumped back against the couch cushion.

  The funeral service had made her think back about her own parents and how loving and protective they had been. They took pride in everything she did.

  When she was in high school, Logan was in the choir. She had a beautiful voice, and in fact, for a while, she considered going into music. She decided to get a degree in business, however, but continued to sing in the choir at Indiana University.

  In her last year there, she was selected to sing the national anthem at the homecoming game, but when she called her parents to give them the good news, they weren’t certain they could make it. Her Dad had plans to meet a business colleague for lunch.

  But, at the last minute, they decided to reschedule the lunch and drive down, wanting to surprise her and share the honor. On the way to the game, their car was hit by a semi, entering highway 37 from a side road right outside Martinsville only miles from Bloomington and the university. The semi never stopped; it plowed right into them. The impact was horrific and both of her parents were killed instantly. Logan was informed midway through the fourth quarter of the football game.

  The truck driver survived but suffered severe injuries. Never forgiving himself for the tragedy, he died a year after the accident. The doctors blamed it on his injuries but his wife said he died from a broken heart. .

  In the days that followed the crash, Logan was consumed with grief. Why didn’t they tell me they were coming? If I had only known, maybe I would have talked them out of coming, she attempted to reason without success.

  “I miss them so much,” crying out, looking around the living room, she wanted to change the past, but was only able to face the present.

  Grief surfaced again, giving way to guilt, leading her to think about Jake Turner. Logan was hit with a barrage of blame and a round of tears flowed unabashedly, a groundswell of emotion from deep within.

  She finally slept, curled up on the couch in a fetal position, spending the night there in complete exhaustion. Little did she know she would be faced with so much terror and tragedy in these next few days, and all of her energy and effort would be called upon to save not only her life, but the lives of others…and in some cases, she would fail.

  * * * * *

  Morning sunlight peeped through the curtains. Logan stirred and tried to open her dried, tear-encrusted eyes, a stab of pain meeting her efforts. She rubbed her eyelids over and over, the pain replaced with a wetness that helped to loosen the crust that had formed.

  Was the wetness due to tears that continued to fall from the night before? She didn’t know. She only knew she still felt the pain, sorrow, and anguish she had been fighting so hard to avoid the last few days.

  Pushing up from the couch, shaking the stiffness from her aching legs, she made her way to the bathroom.

  Still preoccupied with thoughts of Jake Turner and the money he took from all those accounts, Logan turned on the faucet and splashed her face with cold water.

  When she grabbed a towel to dry off, she looked in the mirror, let out a gasp, and a small spasm ran through her body.

  She was staring at a face in the mirror, the face of a stranger, her face but with drawn features and lines where none had appeared before. There were crevices in her forehead, eyes red and bloodshot. Averting her gaze in shock, she looked like she had aged ten years!

  But, turning to leave the room, she avoided an overpowering urge to look into the mirror one more time. No! She didn’t want to face the sadness so indelibly printed there now.

  Determined, she walked toward the bedroom and was unable to see the horrifying image etched in the mirror now, monstrous face with glaring eyes. An evil swell caused the glass to undulate, moving with satanic force. A fine spray of spittle formed on the surface as the tortured image watched his victim exit. A hand trailed fine lines of deep red blood down the mirror. The lines connected and intertwined until they formed one single word ... DEATH. The haunting of Logan Massey had begun.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Travis cautiously approached a field of energy that led from Borderland to earth. Seeing that the magnetic force from the ley lines at this intersection had been violated, his worst fears were realized…Jake had broken through the portal to gain access to earth.

  Ancients have known for centuries about the power of ley lines. They are straight lines below the surface of the earth, thought to provide a magnetic force. What is not known is that these lines provide passage from Borderland to earth. In places where magnetism is particularly strong, megaliths or large stones are set up to facilitate the flow of energy. It is at the nodal points, where the lines intersect, that spiritual power is believed to be at its strongest. These intersections give spirits the ability to propel into the human world.

  Ley lines link ancient holy places in exact alignment with each other. Inhabitants of Borderland were aware of these links long before any priests or scientists knew about them. Sacred temples and monuments were erected on the sites and it was no coincidence that spiritual activity was often reported.

  One such place is Stonehenge, in England. This is where Travis found himself now. Even though spirit saviors were called upon to guard sacred passages, once in a while a shadow would breach the magnetic force and travel back to earth.

  As he stood before the track of the ley lines, Travis could see the brilliant colors of Jake’s aura trailing through the portal, and they told him a story.

  After making his transition, he retained his aura, but the colors were fading. It would only be a matter of time before t
he aura disappeared and he would sink into The Dark Land for all eternity.

  Travis saw the bright red hues, symbolizing anger, coupled with bursts of orange, indicating he planned to use powerful intellect for selfish reasons… to harm Logan.

  Time now became a factor. With Jake’s aura already shedding, it was still strong enough to allow re-entry into the human world, but limited due to the energy needed for such negative emotions. Differentiated time between Borderland and earth let all spirits involved know quick action must follow for them to have any effect.

  Travis summoned the other saviors by relaying his whereabouts telepathically, and within minutes they arrived at the Stonehenge entry, gathering around, studying the markings left by the emanation.

  “The loner is cunning. He discovered the path quickly.”

  Locking eyes with Donald and seeing the concern on his face, Travis sensed that the assignment would be difficult.

  “Follow this lost soul. Don’t let him hurt the woman.”

  Asking the group for strength to prepare his soul for the journey back to earth, Travis felt their positive energy being channeled, and although only temporary, it would give him the strength needed to confront Jake before he too would be summoned back to Borderland. His aura glowed, bright with brilliant hues of purple and rose, colors signifying spirituality and affection, just what was needed to help Logan.

  Then, he vanished through the same black hole.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Mr. Parker?”

  “Yes, this is Harry Parker.”

  “My name is Bill Jensen and I’m the manager at First National Bank, calling in regards to Travis Morton’s account.”

  “Oh, I’ve been wondering when you would call and if you had any more information for us.”

  “Not yet, but I did want to let each of the customers affected know that we are investigating the matter and we’ll keep you informed as we know more.”

  “Fine. I’ll call Karen and let her know.”

  “Yes, please call and let her know we’re working on it.”

  “I will. By the way, that poor girl, your assistant manager, is she okay? Karen told me that she discovered the errors in the accounts and I read in the paper where she was the one who went to see Mr. Turner right before he shot himself.”

  “ Yes, that’s right. She was pretty shook up. I told her to take a vacation… actually, I pretty much forced her to take a few days off.”

  “She deserves it. What she did is very much appreciated.”

  “If you don’t mind, I will share that with her.” Bill said. “She’s feeling guilty. I don’t know why because what she did took a lot of courage.”

  “It sure did and I hope she comes back with a clear conscience. She did nothing wrong.”

  Encouraged by Harry’s interest and concern, Bill continued the conversation, “She’s going to Brown County, one of her favorite places. She has her folks’ cabin on Sweetwater Lake but she hasn’t been there for a long time, and I think she plans to camp.”

  “That’s great!” The hills of Brown County have a way of rejuvenating. You wish her well for me, okay?”

  “I will and thanks for your concern, Mr. Parker. We’ll keep in touch.”

  “Poor thing,” Harry muttered to himself as he walked into the kitchen to fix a cup of tea.

  Should have checked those bank statements myself! Said I was going to do it and I didn’t! So caught up in self-recrimination, he was unaware of the change in atmosphere at first, but approaching a spot in the room right in front of the stove, he felt a significant drop in the temperature.

  “Brrr! Good thing I’m making hot tea.” The room was so cold he could feel the chill in his bones.

  Curious, he walked into the dining room to check the thermostat. That’s strange…75 degrees is not cold!

  Hearing the whistle on the teapot and turning to go back to the kitchen, something made him stop dead in his tracks. His face turned white. There standing in the doorway was Travis! He closed his eyes, opened them quickly--nothing.

  My mind’s playing tricks on me! I’m a stupid, old fool!

  Garnering some courage before walking into the kitchen, he peered into the room and saw-not a thing out of the ordinary.

  Tentatively, standing in the exact spot where he felt the cold just moments before-again--nothing.

  “You’re losing it, buddy!”

  Harry poured the cup of tea, sat at the kitchen table and pondered what he had seen. He knew he wasn’t ‘losing it’…knew it would only be a matter of time before he saw Travis again.

  He had never told anyone about his psychic abilities, except his mother. When he was a child, he told her about events that could only have happened to him... but in a past life.

  He told her stories about long ago settings, people whose names were only familiar to him in a different time through a different identity.

  His mother listened patiently, and surprisingly, she didn’t shush him or tell him how foolish he was. She gave a knowing look and shared an experience that happened when he was five. She was cooking dinner. Harry was supposed to be outside playing but suddenly ran into the kitchen, out of breath. He started talking about a house he had lived in when he was someone named Eli. He described a setting that probably existed in the nineteenth century, way before he was born. Saying he was married and had two children, Harry went on to explain to his dumbfounded mother what their names were. Needless to say, she was at a loss for words, warning him to be careful telling these stories to others because they might not understand.

  After that, when Harry remembered other details about his past life, he only told her.

  He also had an imaginary playmate named ‘John’. His mother would see him talking to someone while sitting on the porch step outside, but when confronted, he would say that he was talking to his friend.

  His mother would only nod as if she knew and walk back inside.

  He had many conversations with John before he quit coming, and about that time Harry turned his attention to earthbound playmates.

  Another discovery he made was that he had an uncanny ability to predict future events. An especially traumatic incident happened one day when he blurted out, “Grandma died!”

  His mother was shocked but didn’t say anything.

  Four days later he found her sitting on the bed, crying, with a letter in her hand. Grandma had passed away on the very day, at the very time, that Harry had announced it.

  Feeling bad for years afterwards, he stifled any thoughts that might pop into his head. He never asked, but Harry thought his mother had the same ability and that was why she cautioned him on how to use it.

  He had other experiences too--felt presences (like his friend, John), had strange dreams in which people were sending him signs, information they wanted him to share. Most of the time he didn’t deal with it, just ignored the ability and denied the gift he had.

  However, today was different and Harry strongly believed that Travis was telling him something. Sipping at his tea, he tried to figure out the message.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Driving south on Interstate 65, Logan tried to concentrate on her plans for the upcoming week. She had made the decision to go camping but as she drove, she began to realize that she did want to see the cabin again; it was time to face her grief, knowing it was long overdue. Besides she usually came to Brown County during the summer but this time of year was cooler.

  Hastily she changed her travel destination, excited about seeing the fall colors, but recognizing the opportunity for solitary companionship this trip offered.

  Let’s see, what will I need? I planned to buy food for camping at the store in Nineveh anyway, she recalled. What else will I need now that my destination has changed?

  Fixing her mind on creating a list of necessities gave her an opportunity to divert thoughts away from the last few days. She could buy groceries and household items for the cabin when she stopped at the gas station and small conve
nience store. Dish detergent, coffee, toilet paper…

  The list made, a shudder ran through her body, remembering what had happened in the apartment. She tried to put it out of her mind but just couldn’t stop thinking about it. Did I really see that word? If so, why did it disappear? Also, why did I have the feeling that someone was in my apartment? Logan desperately tried to ignore the 52 questions game she was playing with herself but the nagging feeling someone or something had been watching remained.

  “Great! Now I’m gonna be all paranoid and depressed! And…I’m talking to myself!”

  She tried focusing on the vacation but it wasn’t working so, grabbing one of her favorite Irish Celtic music compact discs, she put it in the CD player, and soon was immersed in the soothing sounds of a flute. The sweet, lilting melody filled the car and she began to unwind.

  Glancing out the window, she noticed the beautiful fall scenery…the colors were beautiful!

  Engrossed in the myriad of autumn colors, she did not notice the first tug on the steering wheel. The second tug turned the car sharply to the right and she started to veer off the road. A look of bewilderment crossed her face but she clutched the wheel tightly and held on. It felt as if some unseen might was wrestling to take control. Tiny beads of sweat formed on her forehead; alarm replaced dismay; her heart beat frantically. With every ounce of strength in her body, she fought to direct the car. The right wheels ran off the road and hit a pothole and the car bounced up and down, hitting the ground hard with each thud. Grasping the wheel tightly, her body jerked sideways, but she held on, so weak, thinking for sure she would have to give in to the invisible force. Then, as suddenly as it began, the resistance ended and the car was driving under her power.

  She pulled off and parked, sat trembling, trying to calm down. With heavy breathing, droplets of sweat dotting her face, and hands shaking violently, she peered straight ahead, her mind numb. Several minutes passed as she struggled to regain control of herself.