A Strange There After Read Online Free PDF Page B

rumored to be the most haunted place in
Savannah, a hotspot for investigators like me and Abby. Plus, Abby
and her mama worked there, giving us a little more access than most
were able to get.
    Keeping the building front and center in my
mind, I managed to navigate through the Saturday night crowds and
soon found myself standing on the sidewalk in front of it. The
building rose four stories, dotted with rows of narrow windows, and
made of the creamy yellow brick so common in Savannah. The bottom
windows were lit from inside, a warm glow of invitation. The upper
rows were silent, blackened, empty of anything but vacant
rooms.
    Entering through the front door, into the
lobby of the restaurant, my initial goal was to head directly to
the kitchens. Instead, I was drawn to the stairway leading up.
Pulled by an invisible force, I slowly climbed the first set of
stairs, then the second and third.
    It was dark on the fourth floor, an inky
blackness illuminated only by outside light. Faint sounds from the
businesses below drifted up—clinking glasses and muffled laughter.
It wasn’t long until I had company. For some reason, the creaking
steps had always been an active spot. Multiple times, I caught the
presence of a woman in a white gown and heard her voice. It didn’t
surprise me when I found myself in her company. Only tonight, she
was solid, same as Jackson or George. Golden waves of hair tumbled
over one of her shoulders, framing a kind, heart-shaped face. Her
eyes, a soft gray I hadn’t noticed before, widened.
    “Oh, you’re like me now.”
    For a second, I lost my ability to talk.
Recovering, I stuttered, “You, you recognize me?”
    She smiled. “It isn’t often the people who
come through here can see me. I remember who can.” Her lips fell,
changing into a frown. “What happened to you?”
    “Not what you think. I can’t explain it.” I
hated not having all the answers, so I changed the subject and
asked a question I’d been dying, no pun intended, to know. “Why do
you stay?”
    “They brought my son here when he came down
with yellow fever. They used the hotel as a hospital. He died in
the room there.” She pointed. “I don’t want to leave him.”
    “He’s here, too?” I didn’t remember ever
picking up any children, either in our evidence or from my
abilities.
    “He has to be.” Aching need filled her
whispered words, and I pitied her. I was about to tell her he
probably passed on to someplace better when her expression changed.
It grew fearful, and she began to fade. “Someone is coming.”
    She disappeared before I managed to ask her
who. Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and I crept into one of the
far rooms. It had to be a team of investigators. No one else would
really venture to the upper floors. A figure came into view,
darkened by the lack of light. I noted a slim frame, broad
shoulders and a video recorder. A ghost hunter, flying solo.
    And as he stepped into the sliver of light
from the street below, I groaned.
    Boone Ravenwood. Notorious paranormal
investigator. He annoyed the crap out of me with the videos he
posted on YouTube. Crazy, never-before-seen footage of him going
into abandoned buildings and encountering life beyond the grave. I
hated how he showed no fear or respect for the entities who lived
among us. His methods were controversial, on the aggressive side,
and boy oh boy, did he like to think he knew it all.
    “Jackass,” I muttered.
    He pivoted, pointing his camera in my
direction. “Hello?”
    My jaw dropped open. Did he really hear me
that easily? I studied his face, which was almost as annoying as
his personality. Dark eyes, dark hair shaped into a faux-hawk,
chiseled cheekbones, hipster glasses and a frigging dimple. Cocky
and good-looking, he’d become a bit of an internet sensation,
mostly with thirteen year old girls. Needless to say, I despised
him.
    So, I decided to have a little fun.
    Ducking behind the nearest wall, into a room
with two doorways, I