Rollie and Angie spent the remainder of the afternoon wandering around town.  They decided that part of tomorrow would be spent scouting the area for other good locations for filming.  The script had several scenes in it that took place in the town the main characters have moved to.  It would save a lot in production costs if they could film the scenes here.

After a quick shower and change of clothes, they headed over to the Parkers’ place.  The chicken and dumplings were even better than Rollie had hoped it would be.  After dinner, they all headed into the den, Rollie and Angie with beers, the Parkers enjoying a glass of wine.

“I’m going to be spoilt rotten if I keep eating your food, Cecilia,” Rollie remarked.

“By the looks of you, I’d say you need some home-cooked meals,” she told him.  “You could stand to have some more meat on your bones.”

“Well, in our line of work, cooking is not something you have a lot of time for.  Besides, I’m not the greatest talent in the kitchen.”

“What about you, Angie?  You don’t cook either?”

“I cook a little bit,” Angie replied.  “Like Rollie, I often don’t have the time.  Besides, cooking for one isn’t any fun.”

“But I thought that you two were involved.”  Cecilia looked at them in bewilderment.  Both Rollie and Angie blushed, feeling suddenly awkward.

“No, we’re just friends and coworkers,” Rollie explained, glancing at Angie out of the corner of his eye.

“My apologies.  The way you two acted around each other, I thought for sure that you were a couple.”

Feeling her face grow even hotter, Angie said, “Um, we’ve known each other for a very long time, since I was a kid.”

“Ah, I see.  Well, I guess that explains it.  You must be like brother and sister then.”

“Yeah, soft of,” Rollie mumbled.  He stared down at his lap, hoping that someone would hurry up and change the subject.  He did not want to start thinking about the relationship that he didn’t have with Angie.  He already spent too many lonely nights thinking about it.

Angie glanced at Rollie and quickly looked away.  No, she was not going to start thinking about that again.  She managed to keep thoughts of being with Rollie in a romantic way out of her head most of the time.  It would not do her any good to have them invading her mind now.

“So, what do you think about the Powell house?” Fred asked, guessing that a change of subject was in order.

Relieved, Rollie turned to him.  “It should work well for the movie.”

Cecilia looked at him with surprise on her face.  “You’re still going to film there, even with how it’s affecting you?”

“What are you talking about, Cissy?” Fred asked.

“It’s affecting him the same way it did me, except that it sounds like it’s much worse.”

Fred turned to Rollie.  “Is that true?”

Rollie shifted uncomfortably.  “I am having some trouble, but I’ll handle it.”

“So, you believe in all that ghost stuff too?”

“No, actually, I don’t.  It’s Angie here who believes in the supernatural.”

“Hmm.  Yet you’re the one who’s getting spooked by the house.”

“I don’t think the spirits would care if he believes in them or not,” Cecilia pointed out.  “If he’s got the gift, that’s all they’d care about.”

“The gift?  What gift?” Rollie asked.

“The ability to see and converse with people from beyond the grave, of course.”

Rollie gave a short laugh.  “You mean like the people who hold seances?”

“Yes.”

Rollie laughed again and looked at his partner, who was studying him thoughtfully.  “Oh, come on, Angie.  You can’t honestly believe that.”

“I don’t know, Rol.  It would explain a lot.”

“Angie, I am not some kind of medium, or whatever those people are called.”

“Then how else would you explain what you’ve been hearing and seeing?”

“You’ve been hearing and seeing things too?” Cecilia asked quickly.

‘Oh, great.  This is all I need,’ Rollie groaned to himself.  He shot Angie a look.  She bit her lip and sent back a silent apology, realizing that she’d spilled the beans.

Cecilia leaned forward in her chair.  “What have you been seeing and hearing?”

Rollie gave a silent sigh, knowing he was not going to get out of telling the woman about what he’d experienced.  He gave her a brief account of what had been going on, leaving out most of the details.

“This is very serious,” Cecilia said.  “It is obvious that the Powells are trying to contact you.  You need to listen to them, Rollie.  Otherwise, they could get angry, and that is definitely something you don’t want to happen.”

Rollie didn’t want to be rude and repeat that he didn’t believe in any of this, so, instead, he said, “Well, tomorrow will be our last day here, so, unless the ghosts follow us onto the plane and back to New York, I don’t think we have to worry.”  He looked at his watch.  “We really need to get going.  It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

Fred and Cecilia both saw them to the door.  As Rollie headed for the car, Fred walking along with him, Cecilia took hold of Angie’s arm, holding her back.

“Angie, you need to watch out for that young man of yours,” she warned.  “He could be in very grave danger.  There’s no telling what those spirits might do if they don’t get what they want.”

Angie looked over at Rollie, her fear for him returning.  “I’ll do what I can, Cecilia, but Rollie can be extremely stubborn about things.”

“All you can do is protect him the best that you can.  That’s all any of us can do for the people we love.”  Angie opened her mouth to speak, but Cecilia stopped her with an upraised hand.  “Don’t bother denying it, dear.  I saw the way you looked at him.  Besides, even if you didn’t love him in that way, you must love him as a friend.”

“Yes, I do,” Angie told her without hesitation.  “He’s my best friend, the only family I’ve got.  I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Cecilia nodded.  “You and he will both be in my prayers tonight.  He needs the good Lord looking out for him.  It may be all that will save him if things turn bad.”

Angie thought about Cecilia’s words as she and Rollie drove to the motel.  Could the woman be right?  Could Rollie have some kind of ability that allowed him to see and communicate with the ghosts of people who had died?  If so, why had it never happened before?  Maybe this house, with death so strong in it, had awakened his ‘gift’.  The question is, would it stay with him or would he only see such things in the Powell house?

Rollie remained silent on the drive to the motel.  After they arrived, he told Angie that he was tired and went off to bed.  Angie stayed up for another hour, thinking about how much she wished that she was there with him in his bed, holding him as he slept.  She’d been in love with him for a long time, but her desire to be with him had never been stronger than it was now, now that he was scared and confused by what was happening to him.

With a sigh, Angie turned off the light and pulled the sheet up around her, wondering what tomorrow would bring.

Thump, thump, thump.  The sound of Rollie’s heart pulsed in his ears, a rapid drumbeat keeping time with his pounding feet.  He’d been running forever, fleeing the evil that was pursuing him, a darkness that was threatening to consume his mind, his very soul.

A laugh of madness echoed from the shadows around Rollie, roaring through his mind.  He cried out, clamping his hands over his ears.  He stumbled and fell, going to his knees.

All at once, he was in a house.  He lifted his eyes and saw a man standing at the center of the living room.  In his hand, a poker dripped blood in a pool around his feet.  Before him were the bodies of his family, cold and lifeless, their blood on his hands and clothing.

Slowly the man lifted his eyes to Rollie’s.  The Aussie watched as the madness there transformed into an expression of horror and disbelief.  A wailing scream rose out of the man’s throat.  He screamed again, and again, and again, the sound of ultimate anguish piercing through Rollie’s mind and heart. . . .

With a scream of his own, Rollie awakened, his body shaking violently.  Confused and disoriented, he realized that he was on his feet and dressed in the clothes he'd been wearing before he went to bed.  What in the. . . .

The Aussie went absolutely still.  His breath caught in a sharp gasp as he realized where he was.  He was in the Powell house, standing in the living room, in the very spot where he’d seen Robert Powell in the dream.

His muscles locked, his chest rising and falling in short, shallow breaths, Rollie remained frozen in place, terrified to move.  The house seemed to close in on him, the shadows reaching out with clawed hands.  Voices filled his minds, screams of pain and fear, which were followed by a real, physical sensation of pain.  The pain grew until it was nearly overpowering his senses.

With a cry, Rollie finally broke from his frozen stance.  He spun around and fled out the door.  Blindly he ran until something tripped him, and he fell.  Soft grass cushioned his fall.

Rollie lay trembling in the damp grass, his breath hitching in sobs.  Minutes passed before he lifted his head.  He was in Hannah Powell’s garden.  Rising shakily to his knees, he looked around, feeling the fear and pain drain away.  In their place, came a sense of calm contentment.  In wonder, he climbed to his feet, gazing about at the moon-brightened trees and plants.  Crickets sang to him from the bushes.

Then there was another sound.  Rollie turned around to see the translucent figure of a beautiful woman walking down the path.  She was smiling and laughing.  All around her danced her children, and in her arms was a baby.  She turned to Rollie, her smile growing even brighter.

“Robert, you silly man, get over here and help me with this pack of wild Indians” she said with a laugh.

Rollie blinked slowly.  When he opened his eyes again, the garden was empty.  Looking about, he saw no sign of what he’d just witnessed.

Quickly, the Aussie left the garden.  He paused in surprise when he saw the rental car parked about thirty yards away.  He stared at it, his blood running cold.  He had no memory of driving here.  The last thing he remembered was falling asleep in his motel bed.

Suddenly wanting to be as far away from the house as possible, Rollie hurried to the car and took off down the hill.  He made it back to the motel room and into the bathroom before his stomach forcefully emptied itself into the toilet.  Tremors ran though his sweat-soaked body as he held onto the toilet seat.  Several minutes passed before he had the strength to get to his feet.  He cupped cold water into his hands and splashed it over his face repeatedly.  Then he took a long drink.

At last, Rollie straightened and left the bathroom.  He stripped off his clothes, letting them lay where they fell.  He crawled into the bed and huddled under the covers.  Though he knew that the room was warm, he felt cold.  It was a cold coming from inside him, and no amount of heat was going to dissipate it.

The minutes ticked by as Rollie stared into the darkness of the room.  He could never remember feeling so scared, so utterly powerless to stop what was happening.  For the first time in his life, he wanted to run away, to flee as far and as fast as he could.  But he knew that he couldn’t, for, no matter where he went, he would not be able to escape the specter that would follow after him.