The Hauntings of Team Seven:

An ATF Story

By Dayna

Chapter 1

Ezra P Standish was not in a good mood as he made his way along the deserted streets of Denver. The darkness of the early morning hour engulfed his black Jag as he cursed once again under his breath.

“What kind of idiot calls a meeting at this ungodly hour of the morning?” he said as the warmth of the Jaguar did little to comfort him. Ezra looked at the dark row of houses that lined the residential area he lived in. All were quiet. Smoke, drifting to the heavens from chimney’s, etched itself against the cold, October sky. He thought of all the resident Denverians that were still enjoying the peace of a good nights sleep and slammed his fist against the steering wheel.

“Now I don’t mind early morning meetings,” Ezra said aloud, trying to justify his current state of mind. “But the least that our fearless leader could do is to schedule it ahead of time. Calling in the middle of the night is hardly acceptable. Even my mother would have more tact than that.” Ezra smiled at the image of his mother getting up at such an hour of the morning. “She would be much more likely to be entertaining the idea of going to bed at this hour rather than rising.”

“But,” he thought to himself as he pulled the Jag to a stop at the red traffic light. “It did sound important.” The Jag purred softly as he waited for the light to change. The streets were deserted. “Like a ghost town,” Ezra said aloud as if answering his own thoughts.

Outside, the wind whipped through the night voicing it’s power as it encircled the small waiting car. Ezra felt the hair on his arms stand on end despite the wool overcoat that he wore. He suddenly had the overwhelming feeling that he was being watched.

Ezra looked in the rearview mirror. Nothing. Glancing around at the street before him, he saw nothing. Nothing but.....a cat as it jumped from the darkened doorway of the building on the corner. Ezra smiled to himself. “Stupid creature,” he said as he continued waiting for the light to change.

The cat was black, black as night. It made it’s way across the street, sauntering as it went. Ezra revved the engine of the Jag as the cat passed in front of it. He laughed to himself as the cat jumped slightly away from the car. It laid low to the ground and stared at Ezra with a certain fixed determination.

Ezra’s smile began to fade. He studied the cat as it hunched in front of his car. It’s eyes glowed a brilliant green, lit with such fire that an emerald held up to the sun paled by comparison. The cat shifted its position, turning to face the car. Ezra could see the cat’s back arch as it bared it’s teeth to him.

Although he couldn’t hear it, Ezra knew that the cat was hissing at him. Hissing as it stared with those fire eyes. He felt as if the cat was looking at him.....no, looking through him and right into his soul. Ezra’s heart began to beat harder, a fine veil of sweat forming on his brow.

Just then, Ezra felt as if his heart had stopped. His eyes grew to the size of half dollars and he held his breath as he tried to reason what he had just seen. The cat, no more than a foot in length, appeared to grow. It seemed to double and then triple its size until is was almost a big as a German shepard. But only for a second, and then it was just the cat.

The nerve endings in Ezra’s skin were on full alert. The slightest bit of air that blew from the dashboard vents sent goosebumps running up his arms. He wanted to tell himself how ridiculous that sounded, how the cat was simply a cat, how his mind was still a bit asleep.....he wanted to tell himself a lot of things, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything. Nothing but to sit and watch.

“BBBBEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPP”

Ezra jumped out of his seat, hitting his head on the low interior roof of the small car. Drawing his hand to the top of his head, Ezra shifted his gaze to the rearview mirror. A large Silver Ford Explorer was idling behind him. He could see the driver of the truck cursing and waving his arms.

Ezra quickly looked back at the light. It was green. He had no idea how long it had been green. Ezra turned his attention back to the cat, but it was gone. Depressing the accelerator with a jerk, Ezra speed off down the street. The images of the cat burned into his mind.

As he continued on to the office, Ezra again tried to reason what he had seen. “I am just tired. That’s all.” He felt that to be as good as explanation as any. Far more acceptable than a little cat that grows. Laughing to himself, he pushed the image out of his mind. He had been working too hard lately. Team 7 had been involved in a barrage of cases over the last few weeks. “I just need a vacation,” he said.

But the feeling of being watched would not go away. No matter how hard he tried to down play it or how far he pushed it from his mind. It was still there and it was growing.......

Ezra pulled his Jag into his parking spot and turned the car off. The parking garage was empty. His mouth hung open. “What the hell is going on?” he said to himself as he stared at the empty structure.

Chris had been specific. Abrupt but specific. “Be at work by 6am for a meeting.” Ezra sat in the car thinking back to the 3am phone call that had awaken him from his perfect night of sleep. “Come to think of it,” he said aloud, the cold October air already nipping at his warm words and turning them white. “He was far too abrupt, even for Chris.”

The call had been at 3am on the dot. After Ezra had been able to pull himself out of the warm wonderful dream he had been having about gunfighters and desert towns, he picked up the receiver and managed a hello. There was silence on the other end. In fact, it was so dead silent that Ezra had been about to hang up when he heard Chris’s voice. “Be at work by 6am for a meeting” and then he hung up.

Now, as the cold air began wrapping itself around the handsome agent, he started to wonder if it had actually been Chris at all. The caller never identified himself. The only thing that Ezra had to go on was that it had sounded just like him. And if he wanted.......

“AAAAGGGGHHHHH”

Ezra screamed as the cat jumped on the hood of the Jag. He felt his heart stop until he realized that it was Cuervo. “YOU STUPID CAT!!!!!” he screamed, his hand still clutched to his chest as if trying to keep his heart to stay within its cage.

Cuervo looked at Ezra apprehensively, then around at the empty garage with wide glowing eyes. As Ezra’s rapid breaths blew puffs of smoke from his dry lips, he noticed the cat’s shifting gaze and quick movements. It looked scared. Ezra could see that Cuervo had his claws bared. “Not on my car,” the agent said as he quickly opened the drivers side door.

But Cuervo was gone, running out of the garage and into the darkness that still held the city captive. Ezra felt a sense of dread come over him. “Even the cat knows something isn’t right,” he said to himself as he straightened out his coat. His heart had finally begun to return to a normal beat. Grabbing his briefcase, Ezra slammed the Jag door behind him and pressed the little black button on his key chain to set the alarm.

Giving the garage one more scanning look, Ezra headed toward the elevator. The night was so silent that the only noise was the familiar clicking of his Gucci shoes. He retrieved his ID badge from his coat pocket as he went. As Ezra neared the elevator, he had the most overwhelming feeling that someone was behind him. Carefully reaching into his inside pocket, Ezra flipped the leather clasp that held his 9mm in place open and slide the gun from it’s holster.

Two feet from the elevator, Ezra stopped. He listened for any movement, but heard nothing. Quickly, he pulled his gun from his wool coat and turned to take aim. Only there was no one to take aim at. He was alone. The garage was empty. But that feeling was stronger than ever. The feeling of being followed, of being watched.....he just couldn’t make it go away.

As the elevator came to stop, Ezra felt his heart heavy with dread. With his gun still drawn, he stood back against the side of the elevator walls as far as he could. His heart beat raced in his ears as the doors slid open. He waited for a moment, his breathing quickening. But there was nothing.

The floor was dark, save for a few auxiliary lights that always stayed on. Just then he caught the reflection of a figure in the high polished doorway of the elevator. The figure stood just only a few feet from Ezra. “No doubt waiting for me,” Ezra thought to himself.

The elevator doors began to slide closed. Ezra pushed the open button and took a deep breath. Readying himself for action, he jumped from the elevator to the floor. “FREEZE, ATF!!” he said as he rolled over on his stomach, his weapon held out before him.

“Ah hell,” he said as he rested his head against the hard floor, laughing to himself. It turned out that his lone figure was a paper skeleton that JD had hung up for Halloween decorations. “I hate Halloween,” Ezra said as he quickly got back to his feet.

With his gun held in both hands high up by his head, Ezra slowly made his way around the floor. The ATF office area was set up to be an open area. There weren’t that many offices or places that anyone could hide. Mostly there were just desks. Chris had the only office on the floor.

Ezra slid his way along to the wall to the only place that someone could hide, the bathroom. As he got right next to the door, he took a deep breath. On the other side of the doorway stood a large filing cabinet. Ezra glanced around the cabinet, but the area was piled with boxes. No place for someone to hide. His only place left to check was the bathroom.

Ezra made sure that his gun was cocked and ready to go. Taking another deep breath, he kicked open the swinging door. “FREEZE!!” he said with his weapon held out in front of him. The porcelain tiles made his voice echo through the small bathroom. In Ezra’s ears, it sounded like the voice that they always used in movies to represent the voice of God. But the bathroom itself was empty. Ezra did a quick check of the four stalls before he was satisfied that everything was clear.

He laughed to himself as he looked at the pale face staring back at him from the mirror. “Boy Ezra, you sure have got yourself worked into a frenzy this morning.” He reholstered his weapon and ran his hands over his face. He needed coffee. “And I need to start calling to see where everyone is.” he said as he headed out of the bathroom.

Ezra pulled the bathroom door open. Just as he was coming through the doorway, he sensed the presence. But it was too late. He felt it hit him in the head as sharp pains ripped through his shoulder.

“Meeeooorrwww”

Ezra tried to catch his balance, but it happened too fast. The cat had jumped at him from the filing cabinet. He went down, his arms flailing in the air. Realizing that he couldn’t stop it, Ezra put his hands out in front of him to try and break the fall. Instead, he succeeded in hitting his head on the corner of a desk. He finally landed on the floor, crumpled up into a ball on his side. Ezra screamed out in pain. He rubbed at his forehead as the pain shot through his mind like a knife sliding through butter.

“God dammit Cuervo,” he screamed, his vision blurred. He rolled around on the floor, his hands clutching at his head. Through his howls of pain, he heard the ding that the elevator made when it’s button was pushed. “Good,” he thought as he tried to sit up, disgusted with the events of the whole morning. “I think I have a concussion.” Finally able to get into a sitting position, Ezra turned when he heard the elevator doors slide open. And what he saw made his blood run cold.

Ezra sat with his mouth hung open and his eyes as wide as saucers. There, standing before the open elevator doors, was the black cat. It regarded Ezra with it’s glowing eyes, walked around in a small circle and was gone. Ezra could have sworn that the cat was smiling.

“That’s it,” he said as he pulled himself up off the floor, his head throbbing. “I’m calling in sick.” With that, he grabbed his coat and headed toward the stairs.

The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon as Vin Tanner locked his apartment door behind him. Dressed in rookie ATF sweats, he emerged from the apartment complex. He was greeted by a gust of blustery wind as the cool October morning tugged at the remnants of his warm apartment. Surveying the streets around the park, Vin stretched his arms high above his head. He loved this time of the morning. Everything was so quiet and still.

He put his leg up on the step railing and stretched deep. “Aaawww,” he said, loving the way his muscles felt when they were beginning to work the sleep out of them. He stretched the other one before quickly jogging off toward the park that lay across the street.

Minor Park had been a favorite of Vin’s for as long as he had lived in Denver. It was a rather large park, spanning roughly four city blocks. There was a small pond that lay in the center of the park where Vin often frequented. There were also several small play areas for children, a tennis court, and two basketball courts where Vin had beat Chris Larabee many times.

What Vin loved most about the park was that half of it rested in a deep lush forest of trees. Within those trees were trails that provided peace and solitude to the occasional hiker, or in Vin’s case, runners. Some of the trails were rough, narrow paths leading up hills and down into ravines. Others were straight and wide.

Vin always choose the rough ones. He liked the challenge of dodging tree branches and maneuvering over uprooted tree stumps. He liked the emptiness of the rougher paths. Not many dared venture them because most of the went deep into the woods.

As Vin ran along the river, he noticed that the park seemed much more deserted than usual. “Not surprising,” he thought as puffs of white smoke escaped from his mouth and nose. “It can’t be more than 30 degrees.” He listened for the usual sounds of traffic in the distance or other walkers in the park, but he heard nothing. Nothing but his own heart beating.

Vin cut across the open field where, in the summer, many a games of baseball were played. Quite often in the summer time, Vin would come out to the field and watch the kids play. He had even been known to coached a few of those games He liked kids, and these were good kids. It was a rough neighborhood that he lived in, and most of the kids didn’t get a whole lot of breaks. But they had potential if anyone were willing to see it.

Vin inhaled deep on the frosty air. He felt good, full of life and energy. He always felt that way when he ran. Vin followed his usual path, heading toward the trail that he always took. Just as he was about to enter the trees, a strange sensation passed over Vin causing him to slow down to a jog and then to a stop. Standing with his hands on his hips, puffs of white air escaping from his mouth, he looked around at the area before him. But there was nothing out of the ordinary, at least that he could see.

“Come on Vin,” he laughed to himself as he started into the woods. “You always get jumpy around this time of year.” But he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching him.

As Vin disappeared into the trees, a strong gust of wind whipped through the Denver morning. The branches swayed as it riffled through the big oak trees. A single branch fell to the ground, revealing to no one the long ago sign that had been well hidden amongst the thick shrubbery. The sign was weathered and worn, probably having been there for many years. It said Lost Souls Trail.

The path that he ran was old. Some of the tracks cut deep into the earth. The deeper he went along the trail, the more the branches above him seemed to grow together. At one point, the canopy of trees seemed to dim the early morning sun.

Vin ran along the path, pacing himself to the rhythm of his watch. He often kept his strides in line with that of the ticks of the second hand. It was a good pace.

He was deep in thought, contemplating the mess of a case the Seven had just been through when he heard the child’s voice.

“Come here Misty. Come on girl. Please Misty”

Vin slowed down to a jog. “What on earth is a kid doing back here?” he thought to himself as he looked around. He could hear her, but he couldn’t tell where she was.

“Misty. Come here.”

The child’s voice was soft and sweet, but tinged with something that Vin couldn’t quite put his finger on. It sounded like sadness or fear. Whatever the voice held, it sent the sensation of pin prickles down his neck.

As he rounded a bend in the trail, he happened upon the child. She was small, probably five or six. Her blonde hair looked like it had been kissed by the sun. She wore a bright yellow sun dress with red polka dots and held a daisy in her hand. Vin came to a stopped a few feet away from the child.

“Come here Misty. I’m gonna be mad at you.”

Vin watched with fascination as the child bent forward, her hands resting on her knees. She was looking off to the side of the trail into the darkness of the ravine. She slapped her hands against her thighs. “Come here you dumb dog.”

“Can I help you find your dog?” Vin asked as he approached the child. Unaware that anyone was there, the child turned quickly on her heels to face him. Vin gasped and took a step back at the pale face that stood before him.

“But....I.......um,” he said as he took another step back. The little girl was covered in blood. The right side of her forehead was a messy goo of flesh. Blood streaked the side of her face and had sealed her right eye shut.

The little girl took a step forward. As she got closer to him, he realized that what he had thought were red polka dots were actually splatters of blood.

Vin couldn’t breath. “What the hell is going on?” his mind screamed as he took another step back. The child continued to come closer. He noticed that the child’s walk was a bit uneven. Looking at her feet, he realized that she was wearing only one shoe.

The child held out her blood stained arms. “Please mister. Help me find my dog. I’ll give my daisy if you can help me.”

That sweet child voice was changing, becoming gurgled as if it were being spoken through liquid. It continued to approach him. It’s bloody hand was still clutching the daisy. Vin was paralyzed with fear. He couldn’t move, think or even breath. Finally, something in his mind snapped and he was gone.

He turned and ran back down the path. Back the way he had already come. He ran with everything he had in him, never once looking back. He was out of the forest and off the trail before he registered that he couldn’t take that speed much longer. As he neared the river, he finally came to a stop, panting and sucking in air as if he’d been deprived of oxygen for hours.

Bending over, Vin rested his hands on his knees. His mind was out of control. Images of the child bombarded him. He stood up, putting his hands on his hips. Slowly, he walked along the river. “It was a hallucination. That’s all. I must have been oxygen deprived. Or I’ve been working to hard,” he reasoned with himself as he heart rate began to return to normal. “That’s the only explanation.”

Comfortable with his reasoning, Vin Tanner headed back to his apartment. He had to shower before heading off to work. He pushed back the image to the place in the brain were uncomfortable thoughts and reasoning lie. He was a rational man, and he needed a rational explanation. “And that one works,” he told himself as he walked up the stairs of the complex. Now, if he could just make himself believe it.

Holding his head in his hands, Vin stared at the blank form on the desk in front of him. He hadn’t been able to concentrate all day. No matter how he tried he couldn’t get the image of the little girl out of his head. “Well Vin, I think you finally lost it,” he said to himself as he put the form back into his ‘to do’ box.

He leaned back in his chair and rested his head against the back of it. Vin looked around the office, trying to find something to occupy his mind. JD and Buck had gone to lunch late. Josiah was out of the office on a routine training seminar. Nate was in the office with Chris discussing the possibility of new microphone equipment. That left only Ezra. Vin spun his chair around so that he could face the undercover specialist.

Ezra sat at his desk busily writing. He had a huge knot on his forehead that was a nasty shade of black. “Hey Ez. What did you do to your head?”

Ezra jumped out of his skin. “Damn it man. Don’t startle people like that. It’s not healthy,” Ezra said, his face an unusual shade of pale. His eyes quickly darted around the room before coming back to rest on Vin.

“Something wrong, Ez.” Vin couldn’t help but notice the peculiar behavior that Ezra was displaying.

“No, why? Should there be something wrong?” I don’t think so. There is no reason for something to be wrong.” Ezra shook his head left to right as he stood up from his desk. “No Mr. Tanner. Thank you for your concern, but I’m just fine. Right as rain,” he said as he breezed past Vin and headed toward the elevator. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

Vin sat stunned. He had never seen Ezra act like that. He wanted....

“Mr. Tanner?”

Vin jumped at the female voice. He looked up to see Mary Travis standing before his desk. Feeling his heart race, he tried to keep control. “Hi Ms. Travis. What can I do for ya?”

Mary smiled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten ya. I just had a few questions. It’s for a story that I am working on.”

Vin stood up and offered Mary a seat. “Sure Ms. Travis. Whatever I can do to help.”

Mary sat down. “Well, I know that you live out by Minor Park. I am doing a story, sort of ghost story, for our Halloween edition,” Mary said with a smile. “Living in Denver one hears all the tall tales that have been passed on for generations. You know, about ghosts and what not. You ever hear of any?”

Vin’s jaw dropped to his chest as images of the little girl flooded his mind. The blood stained dress, the flower in her hand, the missing shoe, the strange gurgling sound that came from her throat.

“Mr. Tanner?”

“I’m sorry Mary. What did you say again?”

“Mr. Tanner, you sure seem a million miles away,” Mary said smiling. “I am also inquiring as to if you knew of any real life cases that may have happened there as well. I did find some.” Mary handed a plain beige envelope over to the quiet agent.

“Mary? What are you doing here?”

Mary and Vin both turned to see the black clad leader standing near his office. He smiled at the blonde reporter, a rarity for Chris. “Excuse me for a moment Vin,” Mary said as she made her way over to Chris.

Vin felt his heart quicken the moment Mary laid the folder into his hands. He knew the answers he needed were in that folder. Lying it on the desk in front of him, he slowly opened the folder. Vin could hear the whispers of all the lost souls of Minor Park drifting through his mind.

There was file after file of tragedy that had occurred in the park. A small boy had drowned in the pond; a woman, brutally raped and murdered; a teenage boy, shot in a gang related incident, and countless others. Vin looked at each case closely, noting the small pictures of the victims that were attached to each file.

As Vin turned over each case, he felt a little more assured that what he had seen earlier had just been a manifestation of something deep in his mind. That is until he turned over the second to the last case.

Immediately his eyes fell upon the picture of the smiling little girl. Her hair was blonde, kissed by the sun. She had her arms wrapped around a small cinnamon colored Cocker Spaniel. Vin had to force himself to look away from the picture.

Reading the report, Vin determined that the child had wondered off in search of her dog. “Misty,” he whispered as he continued to read on. According to the investigating officers, the child fell into the ravine and crushed her skull on the rocks at the bottom of the embankment. The dog was never found.

Vin pulled himself up the last set of stairs. He was tired. Not physically tired, but mentally tired. All day, he had fought a mental battle about the mornings events, and he was losing.

Slowly, he walked along the long hall that lead to his humble abode. “Maybe, I had heard it on the news and just don’t remember,” he said as he searched through the large assortment of keys that donned his key chain. Finding the right one, he looked up as he turned the corner. He could see his door as he continued down he hall.

Vin noticed that there was something lying by his door. Puzzled as to what it could be, he kept his eyes on it as he neared his apartment.

When he could finally make out what it was, he stopped dead in his tracks. He didn’t make a sound. Vin felt the hair on his arms stand on end as he willed himself to take another step forward. Reaching the door, he bent down to pick up the object from the floor.

In his hands, he held a shoe; a small, white blood covered shoe. As if he had been burnt, Vin threw the shoe to the floor. An eerie feeling crept into his bones. He shivered as a wave of goose bumps covered his body. Suddenly repulsed by the shoe, Vin kicked it and watched as it tumbled its way down the hall.

Opening his door quickly, Vin slammed it shut. Three clicks could be heard as the door’s locks were put into place, shutting himself in and the evil out.

Chapter 3

Nathan Jackson took the last flight of stairs as if it were his first. He felt good. His heart was pumping at a moderate level and his breathing was clear and easy. “Just as it should be,” he thought to himself as he took two steps at a time.

Nate smiled as he thought of his morning ritual. He had been taking the stairs every morning since he had been assigned to Team 7. Of course he had been through all the questions, especially from Ezra. “Pardon my ignorance, but why would you choose to take the stairs when the elevator is readily at your disposal. No sense engaging in any unnecessary physical exertion if it can be avoided,” Ezra constantly asked.

The truth behind it was simple. He could so he did. Nate felt that he was in the best shape of his life, young and full of energy. He liked the exercise of taking the stairs. He needed it, especially in his line of work.

As a member of Team 7, he was often responsible for providing back up and surveillance. “Now, I ask you, how much exercise can I get sitting in a van on my rear all day?” he had asked his inquisitors on numerous occasions. Buck always laughed. “I wish I could sit in a van all day.”

To make matters worse, he was often cooped up with JD. “And let’s face it, the kid had sugar running through his veins,” Nate said to himself as he neared the top of the stairs.

The surveillance van was often so crammed with Twinkies, Honey Buns, and various fast food wrappers that one could hardly even find the surveillance equipment. It looked like his and Buck’s apartment. “There’s a method to my mess,” JD would say whenever Nate brought it up.

So, to compensate, Nate took the stairs. He walked around town. He frequented the gym with Vin whenever he got a chance. He did anything he could to try to keep in shape. “You can never be in too good of shape,” he said to himself as he reached the seventh floor landing.

Nate checked his pulse as he drew in a long, deep breath. It was normal. He smiled to himself. He was hardly even out of breath. “Not even Chris could say that,” he said as he pulled on the door handle that lead into the ATF offices.

But the door wouldn’t open. Nate stared at the door in disbelief. In the three years that they had worked in this building, the stairwell doors had never been locked. “How could they,” Nate said aloud as he stared at the closed door before him. “It’s the only emergency exit this building has.” He pulled again, only harder this time. Still, it wouldn’t budge.

Nate put his hands on his hips. His face was twisted with confusion. “Who would lock the door?” he asked himself as he willed the door to open with his mind. Locked. Then it dawned on Nate. Halloween was just around the corner. Buck and JD were up to their old tricks.

Nate fumed as he imagined Buck and JD standing just on the other side of the door, giggling like children. “Damn them,” he said under his breath. “Very funny.” He pulled on the door one more time. Locked.

Just as he was about to begin beating on the door, yelling for them to cut the crap, he stopped. “Why waste the energy,” he asked himself as an idea began to formulate in his mind. “I’ll just go to the next floor and take the elevator down. Then I can sneak up on them from behind.” A smile spread across the gentle agent’s face. “Better yet, I could just go sit at my desk and leave them standing there at the stairwell door all day, laughing and looking like idiots.” He liked the second idea much better. Nate prided himself for being one who didn’t always feel the need to get back at the pranksters of the group. “Sometimes doing nothing is your best revenge.”

Nate started up the flight of stairs, taking them two at a time. As he reached the eighth floor landing, he pulled on the door. Locked. “Damn,” he cried as the frustration began to mount. “I’m going to kill them when I get my hands on them.”

Nate stood with his hands on his hips, once again staring blankly at the door. “What do I do now?” he muttered. Images of Buck and JD laughing wildly filled his head. The young agent clenched his teeth. “Oh, they are going to pay for this,” he said as he started up the next flight of stairs.

He had been planning on attending a seminar this morning about new technologies in the field of EMT work. Although Nate was not a paramedic, he was intrigued by the field work. Many times during routine busts, things had gone wrong and he had been able to use some of the training he had received to save lives.

His position as a surveillance expert was the most important role in Nate’s life, but his passion of the medical field was too strong to bury. “Now, thanks to this little prank, I am going to miss my seminar,” he said as he reached the ninth floor landing.

Nate took a deep breath. He had been so angry with being locked out that he had taken the stairs too fast. Now, he had to catch his breath. He looked at the high polished silver handle. “Please be open,” he said as he rested his hand on the handle. He pulled gently, but to no avail.

“DAMMIT,” he said as he rested his head against the cold aluminum door. “This is too far,” he said as he tried to think of what to do. He sighed as he stood up straight. He had no choice but to keep going until he could find one that was open. He was so far beyond angry. “They are going to pay.” >

Nate continued up the stairs, taking them two at a time. At each landing, he stopped and tried the door. Locked. Each time, he cursed under his breath and continued on to the next floor. All the while, he schemed evil and vicious plans of retaliation against his two playful comrades.

As Nate approached the thirteenth floor landing, he stopped four steps from the top. Holding on to the rail, he fought for air. He looked at the square black sign that hung over the door. It was marked 13.

Holding the rail, he leaned his back against it. “Since when does this building have a thirteenth floor?” he asked himself. Nate’s forehead crinkled up in thought as he scanned the fragmented files in his mind.

As far as he knew, no building in America was made with a thirteenth floor anymore. People thought they were bad luck. Even motels and apartment buildings didn’t use the number thirteen. “So why does the government?” he said as he climbed the last few remaining steps.

But he didn’t care. “It could be marked Hell for that matter. I just want it to open,” he said as he grabbed hold of the handle.

“Aaawwwhhh,” he screamed as he pulled back his hand. It was numbingly cold. He shook his hand in the air, trying to get blood and warmth back into it. Never once did he take his eyes off the handle.

Panic and confusion clouded his mind. He laid his other hand on the door. He jumped and pulled it back quickly. It too was frozen. “But how can that be?” he asked himself as he began to feel the cold air drifting up from under the door.

Nate stuck his hand in the pocket of his leather jacket. Using it as a shield, he reached for the handle again. He pulled with great force. The door came flying open, sending Nate sprawling across the landing. The wall stopped his fall.

“Uuurrggg,” he said as he face collided with the wall. He brought his hands up to his nose, dabbing at it to see if there was any blood. Seeing none, he turned back to the door which had closed itself. “Now why wasn’t this one locked? “ he wondered as he stared intently at the door. “And why was it so cold?”

Nate took a step toward the door as an eerie feeling washed over him causing his whole body to rack with shivers. He heard the soft rustling of paper. He took another step toward the door. Cold air brushed across his face, drying out his eyes. He rubbed at them, blinking several times to relubricate. He took another step forward. That was when he heard the soft, faint moan.

It was the moan that sent Nate Jackson into action. He stuck his hand in his pocket and grabbed for the door. Pulling it open, he was met by a gust of cold winter air that blew strong against him. He held up his hand to shield his eyes from the cold.

He took a step forward, into the floor area. His hand was still shielding his face. He noticed that the wind had died down to a mild breeze. He removed his hand and allowed himself to take in his surroundings for the first time. A gasp escaped his lips.

That level of the building was under heavy construction. Low beams hung throughout the floor. Wooden horses were scattered about and buckets of plaster or caulking lay around. Most of the windows on the floor were gone, replaced by thin plastic strips of sheeting that hung from the ceiling.

The wind blew in softly, raising the plastic strips all around the room. The early morning sun had yet to greet this side of the building, casting an unhealthy glow to the atmosphere of the floor.

“uuuugggghhhhhhh”

Nathan jumped at the sound, his heart caught in his throat. He scanned the room carefully, trying to determine where the noise had come from.

“uuuuggggghhhhhh”

Goosebumps ran up and down his arms. Nate squinted his eyes, trying to focus them in on any movement at all. He walked farther into the room. The feeling of dread weighing heavy on his chest like a weight. He felt as if he were fighting for breath.

“uuuugggghhhhh”

He turned toward the far corner of the room and it was there that he found what he was looking for. In between a saw horse and a pile of wooden planks was a small silver wheelchair. It sat in front of a window. The wind blew the plastic strips up around it.

Nate could make out the frail shadow of a person slumped over in the chair. Terror gripped his heart like a child to its mother’s hand. He wanted to run. He wanted to scream. He wanted to wake up from whatever nightmare he had falling in to. But what he didn’t want was to go near that wheelchair. And yet, he was powerless to stop as he walked toward it.

He felt like he was on one of those moving sidewalks that a person sees in the bigger airports. He was moving, but of no will of his own. As he got closer to the figure, the terror he felt ate deeper and deeper into his very soul.

“uuuuugggghhhh”

Nate stood only a few feet from the figure in the wheelchair. His breathing was so fast, he feared he would hyperventilate. “But even that would be better than this,” he thought to himself as he stood shaking.

A small wrinkled black hand moved over the side of the wheelchair and onto the wheel. Slowly it began to turn the wheelchair around. Nate’s breath caught in his chest. He was paralyzed with fear. He couldn’t do anything, but watch.

Nate could hear the grunts as the figure maneuvered the chair around. The figure kept it’s head down. It appeared to be concentrating on the task at hand, getting turned around. Nate knew he should offer to help. Years of proper upbringing had taught him that. But he wasn’t so sure he wanted to see the creature that resided in that chair. He wasn’t so sure that he could move even if he wanted to.

Gradually the chair turned toward Nate. The more it turned, the move his heart raced. “I can’t take this,” he muttered softly to himself. “I don’t think I can take this.”

“Sure you can,” the figure said in a voice so familiar to Nate that at first he didn’t even recognize it. Slowly, the figure raised its head.

Staring back at him was a face he knew well. It was a face he had seen every day of his life. It was old and wrinkled and darkened by age spots. It was so worn that most of the nose was gone, eaten away by time. It was his face.

“Aaaaaahhhhhhhh” Nate screamed with everything he had in him. He screamed so hard that soon his voice faded to nothing. The creature before him began to laugh madly, a screeching cackle that sent every nerve ending in his body into overdrive.

The creature before him reached out with it’s decrepit hand and Nate could take no more. He turned and ran for the elevator. As he turned, he tripped over a pile of buckets. Falling forward, he smashed his nose into a wooden plank. He heard the sickly crack as it connected with the board.

But he didn’t care. He could still see and that was all he needed. He was back on his feet and heading for the elevator whose doors had just slid open. From behind him, he could hear the mad cackling laughter as if it were right by his ear.

He threw himself into the elevator, and landed with a thud. Crawling to his knees, he punched the close button eight times before the door finally slid shut. Nate sat in the corner of the elevator, panting. He could barely breath through the blood that ran from his nose. The copper taste in his mouth made him spit as he wiped the blood away with the back of his left hand.

Finally the door shut completely, but the elevator didn’t move. Nate felt panic grip hold of his soul as he feared the elevator would open back up. Pushing the seven button, he held his breath until he felt the jerk of the elevator as it began its descent, leaving that cackling laughter behind.

The other six members of Team 7 were busily working at their desks when the elevator doors opened. Ezra was the first to notice the blood covered agent as he emerged.

“Aaaaaahhhhh,” he screamed as he backed away from the bloody site. Vin had been on his way back to his desk. He had just refreshed his coffee mug when he too saw the bloody mess that was Agent Jackson. He dropped the cup and took several steps back as Nate came barreling around the desks.

Buck and JD both stood up from their desks. “What the hell happened to ya?” Buck asked, putting his hands on his hips.

“You okay?” JD asked as he came around from behind Buck to meet the charging agent. Nathan never said a word. Instead he walked up to Buck and punched him in the jaw with all that was in him.

Buck’s head flew back, taking his body with it. His arms wheeled wildly in the air, trying to regain any kind of balance at all. But he was too late. He fell full force to the ground, pulling the younger agent with him. Buck and JD both landed on the ground hard.

Chris had just come out of his office as the assault had commenced. He watched as Nathan punched Buck square in the jaw and then headed on toward the bathroom. Holding a cup of coffee in his hand, he sipped at the steaming brew. He looked at Ezra who stood against the far wall, his face as white as the starched shirt he wore. Vin had sat back down at his desk, and was staring intently at a blank piece of paper that lay on the desk before him.

Turning his attention to the two agents laying on the floor, he took another sip. Buck rubbed his jaw as JD pushed at his back, trying to get the bigger agent off of him. Stunned, the two exchanged glances and then looked up at Chris. An expression of ‘what just happened here?’ rested on both of their faces.

Chris shook his head. “You two. My office. Now,” he said as he went back inside and shut the door.

Chapter 4

JD Dunne sat staring at the monitor as image after image of bass drums scanned by. He had been looking for a replacement fitting for his drum set for almost three hours and was beginning to think he was completely out of luck.

Team 7 was at a rare lull in case load. JD couldn’t remember the last time they had any significant time between cases. “Not that three days is long,” he thought to himself as the arrowed back to the previous website. But he certainly was going to complain. He had mounds of paperwork to catch up on, but he was determined to find his fitting first.

“JD, be careful that you don’t over do yourself now, ya hear,” Buck said as he stared over the young agent’s shoulder. JD jumped, startled by Buck’s presence.

“Dammit Buck, do you have to sneak up on people like that?” JD said as he pushed Buck away from his desk. “And what about you? Don’t you have enough of your own work to do rather than getting into mine?”

Buck laughed as he scooted past the agent. “Just don’t let Chris catch ya. Case or not, you know how he gets when he sees you playing around during work hours.”

“Gee, thanks dad,” JD said sarcastically as he returned back to the task at hand. “There has to be one out there. I can’t have the only bass drum with a broken fitting,” he said to himself as he closed the useless site he was looking at.

“I know I should have been more careful.” JD thought back to the party, the previous weekend, that had resulted in his bass fatality. He and Buck had thrown a small get together and invited some close friends as well as a few work associates. The party had gotten into full swing when JD decided that he wanted to play rock star. He started playing and everyone went wild.

Casey went out of town and had missed the party. But Buck had made sure that there were plenty of single women in attendance. After hearing several of the women carry on about how magnificent Team 7 was, he let it go to his head. In an attempt to show off for all at the party, JD hit the drums hard, playing with very ounce of his soul.

He had gotten so into it that he managed to break the fitting that held the drum cover in place. And now, finding a new fitting was proving to be a more difficult challenge than the last weapons bust.

Yawning, JD stretched his arms over his head. “I need something to drink,” he said as he walked to the small apartment size refrigerator that sat against the far wall of the ATF floor. He opened the fridge, scanning its meager contains in search of his Vitamin D milk. Spying it near the back, he pulled it out and began to shake it.

“JD, why do you always shake your milk? You know, I have watched ya and you do that every time,” Buck said, his arms crossed over his chest. He had taken a seat on the small counter that housed the much used coffee pot. “If it were chocolate or strawberry milk, then I could understand. But not plain milk.”

A stern expression cross the young agent’s face. He looked from Buck to the pint of milk and back to Buck. “I don’t know,” he said defensively. “Just a habit, I guess. My mom used to do it all the time and I picked it up from her. Now, would you please get off my back and find something to do.”

Buck noticed the sadness that crossed the young agent’s face. “What’s a matter JD? Somethin’ wrong?”

“No, Buck. I’m fine. Just waiting for an email,” he said, shifting his gaze toward the huge windows that surrounded the floor. It was a dark afternoon. Perfect for the way JD felt inside.

Buck gasped as realization spread across his face. “Oh JD, I’m so sorry. I plum forgot. It’s the anniversary of your mama’s death, ain’t it? How stupid of me,” Buck said as he slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. He regarded his best friend with compassion. “You doing okay?”

“Buck, I told you, I am fine. My mama’s been dead for six years. I’ve had plenty of time to come to grips with it. Uh, that’s my email,” he said as he heard the familiar bell chime that signaled the arrival of mail. Grabbing a doughnut, he headed back to his desk. He crammed half of the doughnut into his mouth and he licked his fingers. Satisfied that his hand was glaze free, he wiped the saliva on his fingers down the front of his shirt.

He clicked open his mail folder. “Yes,” he said when he saw what he had been waiting for. He opened the email and read quietly as Buck wondered over to his desk.

“Yes what?” Buck asked, sipping his fourth cup of coffee for the day.

“I finally found someone who has a fitting for my drums,” JD said excitedly as he scribbled an address on a piece of paper. “He says to come by this afternoon and I can pick it up.”

“Oh, goody. That means you can go back to banging on them things, don’t it?” Buck said smiling. “I got to meet with Chris, but if you wait till lunch, I’ll go with ya.”

“Buck, I don’t need a baby-sitter,” JD said, giving him his most annoyed look.

Buck smiled a devilish smile. “You sure bout that?” JD started to get up as Buck took off. He was headed for Chris’s office when he was nearly side-swiped by Vin. Putting a hand out to stop the sharp shooter from bowling him down, Buck drew back as Vin turned around with his fist doubled.

“Dammit Buck. Don’t scare people like that.” Vin’s eyes darted around the room, nervous and shifty. His face was pale and he had dark circles under his eyes. To Buck, it looked like he hadn’t slept in a week.

“Sorry Vin. Didn’t mean to get in the way.” Buck turned back to JD and raised in shoulders. “Boy, people are so jumpy around here lately,” he said as he shut the door.

JD turned his attention back to his computer just as an Instant Message appeared on the screen. “Damn,” he said. It was Jessie again.

~~~~~~~~~~
I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed our conversation earlier. I know you said you would email me when you had a chance, but I was wondering when that would be. Can you talk now? I really would like to get to talk to you more.
~~~~~~~~~~

JD shook his head. “Geez, if I knew she was going to keep bugging me, I wouldn’t have started talking to her,” he said to himself as he closed the message screen. Their conversation had started around 9am. He had been browsing the Internet people directory and was intrigued by her profile. Her main hobby was playing the drums. Striking up a conversation, he had pumped her for information on her drum supplier.

After getting what he needed, they had talked for a short time more. She had asked all kinds of questions about his work and he was more than happy to brag. He told her all kinds of tales of good busts and bad. He finally decided to end the conversation when he had almost been caught by Chris.

Chris had gone to the coffee pot to get a refill and was on his way back when he saw JD busily typing. “Morning JD. Nice to see someone doing work around here,” he had said before slipping back behind the closed door of his office.

At that moment, JD decided that he had better got some work done. He politely thanked Jessie for your conversation and let it end at that. The problem was that she didn’t want to end it. For the next hour, she sent Instant Messages to him, asking questions and begging for him to keep talking.

She asked him all kinds of questions too. Questions about his family, about his friends, about his hobbies...she left no stone unturned. It was her question about death that had made JD put the brakes on for good.

~~~~~~~~~~
So if you had a choice and you were going to die, how would you want to go? Would you rather be burned, drowned or hung? Personally, I would rather drown. It is quicker. What about you?
~~~~~~~~~~

JD was shocked and a bit disturbed by the question. “What kind of person asks a morbid question like that?” he thought after reading it. The thing that really bothered him, thinking back on it now, was that she had been leading up to that question for the whole time they were talking. Only, he hadn’t even seen it coming. It wasn’t until after she asked it that he realized the uneasiness he was beginning to feel just talking to her.

~~~~~~~~~~
Well?
~~~~~~~~~~

JD stared at the flashing cursor as he thought about what she had asked. A look of concentration weighed heavily on his face. He didn’t like it. Something was strange about it. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that he wanted her to leave him alone.

~~~~~~~~~~
Look Jessie, I have a lot of work to do. Thanks for your help this morning, but I need to get back to work. So I hope you will understand when I don’t answer your question. It’s been nice talking to ya.
~~~~~~~~~~

As he pressed the send button, he felt his heart skip a beat. He was trying to be as polite as he could, but she was beginning to scare him. “It has to be said,” he thought as he click the send button.

He closed the screen for the fourth time that day, hoping it would be his last. As he stood up from his desk, the message screen reappeared. “Damn,” he said as he ran his fingers through his thick black hair. Sighing, he sat back down. He didn’t want to have to put her screen name on ignore, but she wasn’t leaving him another choice.

As he sat back down to read his message, his eyes grew large and his mouth dropped to his chest. “This girl is nuts,” he said as he stared intently at the message.

~~~~~~~~~~
And just who do you think you are. You can’t just use me and then let me go whenever you are done with me. Just answer my question and I will leave you alone. I promise. Please, just humor me, okay?
~~~~~~~~~~

He considered his alternatives. One was to turn on the ignore. Another was to answer her question. “And a third would be to call the men in the little white jackets to take her away,” he said as he rested his chin in his hand.

~~~~~~~~~~
Okay Jessie, you win. If I had to choose, I would say that I would rather be hung. I think that it would be quicker. Plus it reminds me of the gunslingers of the Old West. Okay? Does that satisfy ya? Now, please. I have work to do.
~~~~~~~~~~

He hated to give in, but he had to get her to leave him alone. She was beginning to creep him out. Just as he was about to close the window, a new message came across. He dropped his head down and let it hit the desk. Softly, he banged it several times in frustration. “That’s it. No more Mr. Ni......” He stopped and stared at the screen in fixed terror.

~~~~~~~~~~
BTW, I really like that denim shirt you’re wearing. It suits you well. And the way you shake your milk carton......why do you do that anyway? Well, that doesn’t matter. You know, your doughnut sitting on your desk is going to get hard if you don’t eat it.
~~~~~~~~~~

JD jumped up from his chair. He backed away from the computer, eyes wide with terror. “This has to be some kind of joke,” he thought to himself as he looked at the desks around him. “It’s got to be a joke.” But most were empty, save for two.

Vin, Ezra, and Buck were in Chris’s office. He had called a meeting to review some files from a recent case. Nathan was at his desk, staring mindlessly at a set of blue prints. As far as JD could remember, he hadn’t moved all day. He looked distant and troubled. That left Josiah.

JD turned toward Josiah’s desk, positive that he would find it empty. But there he sat, reading a book on western history. As if reading JD’s thoughts, he looked up. Seeing the pale face of the young agent, he expressed his concern. “Something wrong JD?”

Just as JD was about to tell Josiah of the message, a new one flashed on the screen. He turned toward the monitor to read it.

~~~~~~~~~~
I would advise you to keep our little conversation to yourself JD. I would hate for anything to happen to that man reading the book. Oh, and one more thing Jonathan ..... about the hanging. That can be arranged.......lolololololololololololololololololololol
~~~~~~~~~~

JD looked around the office. “I don’t understand,” his confused mind cried out. But he said nothing. He looked out the windows that enclosed the ATF floor. In the part of Denver that the government building resided in, there were few tall buildings. Those that were there were limited to five stories.

From the window, JD could see black clouds that were rolling across the distance. He watched the wind dance off the tree tops as it cleared a path for the oncoming storm. He had to clear his mind. “This is a prank. That’s all it is. Buck must have put someone up to it.”

But he wasn’t convinced. He wasn’t even sure that he felt safe. A feeling of uneasiness had taken hold of the young agent and it didn’t appear ready to let go.

“Well?’

JD jumped at the sound of Josiah’s strong, rich voice. He turned back toward the ex-preacher, and was greeted with a look of concern. Nathan was also staring intently at him with the same look.

“I’m...a,” JD said as he scanned the windows once more. He saw nothing but sky and roof tops. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. It’s nothing. I’m fine.” JD grabbed his leather jacket and the piece of paper with the directions for the fitting. Cramming it in his pocket, he headed for the elevators. “Tell Buck I took an early lunch.”

JD raced the motorcycle down the deserted back road, the winding ripping through the helmet. He liked the sound the wind made in his helmet, loud and rough on his ears. He had hoped it would drowned out the effects of the emails, but it wasn’t working.

“How could she have known?” he thought to himself as he fixed his gaze on the long stretch of road before him. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if it was even a she. It could have been anyone, for all he knew.

“But that don’t explain her calling me Jonathan. No one has ever called me that....except my mama,” he thought as he leaned deeply into the sharp corner. “It was something only me and her shared.”

JD’s mother, Veronica, had been the only one to ever address him as Jonathan, his birth name. All his friends, even most of his family had always called him JD. And his mother do also when they were in the company of others. But when they were alone, it was Jonathan. And JD had always liked the way she said it. She had always made him feel important.

The clouds that he had seen from the windows of the ATF building were closing in. They hung over the valley, black and full of rain. They threatened to spill to earth like water from a pitcher.

JD sighed. He must of told someone, and he was pretty sure that it had to have been Buck. Although, he couldn’t really believe that Buck would be behind something so cruel. “Maybe, it was just a lucky guess.”

As JD neared the road that the drum shop was supposed to be on, he tried to put the emails out of his mind. He was finally going to get his drums fixed. Next to Casey and being an agent, his next love were his drums. “Soon, I will be able to rock out,” he thought to himself as he tried to muster a smile. But it just wouldn’t work.

JD had a bad feeling in his gut. He felt wrong, out of place, and as hard as he tried to ignore it, he felt in danger.

JD stopped the motorcycle by the driveway. “What the heck is this?” he said as he pulled his helmet off. The wind pulled at his matted hair, sending chills down his back. Brushing a quick hand through it, he looked at the old building before him.

It was a small red house, badly weathered and falling apart. “It looks more like a barn than anything,” JD thought as he stayed seated on his bike. The yard was grown over, fallen tree stumps and broken fence posts scattered throughout. On the door was a small sign that said Open.

“Open for what?” JD mumbled as he got off his bike and walked it into the gravel driveway. He set the kickstand and laid his helmet on the seat. “Hello?” he called out as the wind picked up.

“JD.........JD........JD”

JD turned quickly on his heels. He knew he had heard his name being called, but it was so faint and so soft that it was as if it had been carried on the wind. He felt his heart rate quicken. “What the hell am I doing here?” he said as he rested his hand on the holstered gun under his jacket.

The wind sent another strong gust of wind that rippled trough the trees. JD felt it hit him hard in the face, but he also felt it change. As he stood on the gravel driveway, the wind whispering his name, he could have sworn that the wind was caressing him.

A wave of chills coarsed through his body. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. Thunder rolled in the distance. Then he heard the soft creak as the door to the house blew open. He stood staring at the door. Fear held every inch of his body captive, and yet, he walked started toward it.

JD felt like a prisoner in his own body as a massive flash of lightning ripped through the sky. His mind screamed for him to run, but his body disobeyed. As he stepped up on the porch, he drew his gun and cocked it. Slowly, he pushed the door open.

“Hello?” he said again as he peaked into the gloomy house. Still he heard nothing. He took a step into the front room to find it completely devoid of any furnishings. In fact, it didn’t look like the house had been inhabited for many years.

”What is going on?” JD said aloud as he reholstered his weapon. He stepped into the room and looked around. Absolutely nothing. The floor boards were torn up in spots and the winds were broken out of the side of the house. JD put his hands on his hips. “If this is Buck’s idea of a joke, I ain’t......”

SLAM!!!

JD jumped two feet off the ground, his heart lodged deeply in his throat. Turning quickly, he saw that the front door had been slammed shut. Breathing in quick, short breathes, JD held his hand to his chest. “Must have been the wind,” he told himself as he turned back around.

Before him hung a hangman’s noose and it was dripping blood. “AAAAAHHHHHHH,” he screamed as loud and hard as his lungs would allow it. And when he ran out of breath, he screamed again. But it was the laughing that sent his body into motion; the deep, benevolent laughter that seemed to seep from every inch of the house.

Finally gaining some control over his limps, he turned and ran for the door. The terror he held was so strong, he literally ripped the door off of its rusted hinges. He ran for his bike, knocking the helmet off and jumping on. Gravel flew everywhere as JD gunned the motorcycle out of the driveway and down the road.

As the dust began to settle, the only thing that was left at the house was his helmet. It lay on the ground, spinning in a small circle from the force of being knocked off the bike. Just the helmet and that sinister laughter that seemed to travel on the wind.

Chapter 5

Buck stirred his coffee absentmindedly as he stared out the store window. The rain was coming down in torrents and the sky was an evil shade of gray. He watched as people ran to open doorways, hiding under umbrellas. The thunder and lightening had eased up some, but the rains weren’t.

Sighing, he picked up his cup and sipped at the strong steaming brew. “Aaahhh,” he said as he savored the rich flavor of the coffee. Chris had sent JD to get the last canister of coffee for the office and they were all sorry that he did. Not being a coffee drinker himself, JD had brought back a cheap generic blend that tasted like mud. Buck smiled as he thought of Ezra’s reaction to the horrible brew.

Buck watched as a woman crossed the street, dropping her leather briefcase in a huge gutter of water. The woman cursed and waved her arms as she tried to salvage the bag. Picking it up, she held it far out in front of her as water leaked out. Normally, Buck would have laughed at the site. But the week had hardly been normal.

Buck took another sip from his cup. “It all seemed to start on Tuesday,” he thought as he stared out into the cold wet day. Ezra had called into work on Monday which was a rarity for him. “He never misses work,” Buck said to himself. When he had come back on Tuesday, he was nervous and pale and completely on edge. Several times throughout the day, he had jumped nearly out of his skin. Buck had tried to talk to the southerner, but he would have nothing to do with that.

Next, there was Vin. He had come in late on Tuesday and had not so much as uttered a single word for most of the morning. Buck knew very well that Vin was a quiet person. But once, during the day, Buck had watched as Chris attempted to talk to the sharpshooter about going out on Saturday. Vin never answered him. He simply got up and walked away.

“And how could I forget Nathan,” he said as he rubbed his jaw. Nathan had hit him so hard on Wednesday, Buck thought that he had knocked out a tooth. Buck had tried all that day to get Nate to talk to him and tell him what he had done, but Nate wouldn’t even look at him. “Or JD,” he said as he took another sip.

But he was most bothered by JD. The kid had gone to lunch early on Thursday and never returned back. Buck had gone home to see if he was there and found him locked in his room. After several attempts at communication with the kid, he had given up. He decided to leave JD alone so that he could work through whatever it was that was bothering him. Buck was pretty certain that it had to do with his mother’s death.

Buck had smoothed things over with Chris, telling him about JD’s mothers death, but it didn’t ease the ill feeling that Buck had in his stomach. Something was wrong with the members of his team, and he had no idea how to help.

Gulping down the last few drinks in his cup, Buck pulled the collar of his coat up and headed over to the door. Pulling the door open, he took one step out when he saw the headless figure coming right at him. Buck jumped back into the store and moved out of the way as the figure barreled right by him.

“Whew,” the woman said as she pulled the coat off of her head. She had used it as a makeshift umbrella. She shook her hair, sending droplets of rain in all directions as she allow her coat to fall back to its normal resting position of her shoulders. “What a wonderful day,” she said sarcastically as she pulled the wet coat off of her and throw it on a nearby chair.

Buck was speechless. He stared, mouth agape, at the raven haired beauty that stood before him. Her eyes were dark, almost black. But her smile lit up the darkness of the day. She was dressed in a black flowing gauzy gown, topped off with a long black velvet cloak. From her olive complexion, Buck decided that she was probably Greek or Mediterranean.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she looked from the door to Buck. “I almost ran you down, didn’t I?” She held out her hand. A puzzled look crossed her face and just as Buck was about to shake her hand, she quickly drew it back. “Yikes. Did you know that you have one mother of a curse on you?”

“What?” Buck asked as he let his hand fall to his side. He put his hands on his hips. “What the heck are you talking about......a....Miss....a?”

“Esmeralda,” she said as she tried to follow Buck’s shifting gaze. “I don’t mean to offend you Mr. Wilmington. It’s just that I can see it in your aura.”

“In my aura?” Buck said as he fixed his gaze upon the woman in black. “How did she know my name,” Buck thought as he stared wide-eyed at the women. Then it dawned on him. Someone was playing a prank. Buck laughed to himself. He had almost fallen for it.

“And just how do you do that? Are you magical?” A smirk took hold of the roguish agent’s handsome features. “Can ya see into the future?” he said as he spanned his fingers through the air as if representing a mystical presence.

Esmeralda smiled, shaking her head. “No Mr. Wilmington, I can’t. I’m a witch, not a psychic. We only deal with the present, not the future.”

A bright smile played on his lips. “Now, I have heard everything. Okay HAZEL,” he said emphasizing the name. “Tell me, what kind of curse is it? Am I gonna turn into a toad? Is my hair gonna fall out?” Buck shook his head.

He looked outside at the rain that continued to pour. A bright flash of lightning ripped through the morning sky. “Who put you up to this. Was it Chris? He tell ya to try and scare me? Huh, did he? Oh, I know. Maybe it was Vin. Maybe he’s been playing possum, acting all nervous and such.”

Esmeralda’s smile began to fade. “I’m afraid this is no joke Mr. Wilmington. You have been cursed. You need to make amends for whom ever it was that you wronged.” She lifted her hand and Buck felt a gust of frigid air blow over him. “If you don’t, the results could be deadly.”

“Look,” Buck said, not liking the unnatural feeling that swept over his body. A scowl grew were his smile had once been. “I don’t think this is very funny. And I’m putting a stop to this hooey right now.” Buck turned to leave.

“I understand your apprehension Mr. Wilmington, but it’s just like your mother always said.....Seeing is believing.”

Buck was just about to walk around Esmeralda when he stumbled. He looked up at her with wide, spooked eyes. “But my mama did.....uh.....how..did you...?”

Esmeralda held out her hand. Bucked stared at it as if he had never seen one before. Her fingers were long and slender, her nails painted black. Buck wanted to pull away. He wanted to run from the coffee shop and never look back, but he couldn’t. The last thing in the world that he wanted to do at that moment was to take hold of her hand, and yet, he felt powerless to stop it.

“You’re a smooth operator Mr. Wilmington. As such, it’s only fitting that you be cursed with clumsiness.” Buck reached out and took the hand offered to him. As he took hold of it, he felt a jolt of energy run through his body. He closed his eyes against the intense sensation that passed through him. As wave after wave coarsed through him, he saw images flash through his mind. Images of him and of women he had known; people from his past. He saw things he knew he had not yet lived. Flashes of him falling by a set of elevator doors, the dropping a vase on his foot. The image that finally caused him to pull away was of him lying on his living room floor, cold, white, and possibly.......dead.

Buck drew his hand back as if he had been holding his hand over a fire. Quickly, he opened his eyes, only to find Esmeralda gone. He looked around the coffee shop and didn’t see her anywhere. Even her coat was gone.

Buck walked over to a young kid that was clearing off a nearby table. “Excuse me,” he said as he grabbed the kid’s arm firmly and turned him around. “Did you see where that woman went that I was just talking to?” The busboy looked startled, staring at Buck as if he were an alien. Buck shook him. “Well, did ya?”

“Mister, you been standing by that window for the last half hour.” The boy’s eyes were wide with fear. The kid looked too afraid to even speak. “You ain’t been talking to no one.”

Buck let go of the kid’s arm and slowly turned away. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I got to go.”

Buck stood staring at the doughnut case, even though the doughnuts were the farthest thing from his mind. “I know I have pulled some doozies for Halloween, but this one takes the cake,” he thought to himself as he rubbed his hand. He could still felt the tingle of his nerve ends on full alert.

“Here ya go Sir. Can I get you anything else?” The elderly woman behind the counter smiled as she waited for a response.

“Oh, uh...no, that’s all.” Buck dug into the front pocket of black Levis and retrieved his money. He handed the lady the cash she needed and stuffed the rest back into his pocket. Grabbing the doughnuts, he headed for the door.

“Excuse me mister. You forgot your change,” the woman said as she headed around the counter.

“Keep it,” Buck said as he opened the door and headed out. He stopped under the overhang. Holding the box of doughnuts in one hand, he pulled his coat collar up with the other. The rain had not let up all morning.

The ATF offices were just across the street so Buck prepared to run. He didn’t want to get the doughnuts wet. “JD will never forgive me if I do,” he said as he hunched his shoulders and ran for the street.

“BBBEEEEPPPPPPPP”

Buck jumped back to the sidewalk as a car came racing down the street. He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn’t even bothered to look before he stepped out into the road. As he stepped back, his boot heel caught the sidewalk wrong. He could feel himself falling as the doughnuts flew through the air.

“Ahhh Shit,” he yelled as he landed in a gutter full of rain water. He stood up, his butt and legs drenched. He put his hands on his hips as he stared at the remains of his doughnuts. They had landed in the street and been smashed. Jelly covered pieces were scattered all over the street. “Well that’s just great,” he said as he headed for the office.

Lucky for Buck, he had an emergency pair of pants in his truck, but his boots were still soaked. As he got up to get more coffee, they made a squishing sound. Josiah was standing by his desk as Buck passed by. “Sounds like you had quite a morning,” Josiah said, his friendly smile shining bright. “Sure wish I could have seen ya sitting in the puddle.”

“Thanks Josiah. Glad you are being adult about this,” Buck said as he headed for the coffee. He mustered up a smile as best as he could, but he couldn’t get Esmeralda out of his mind. He felt sick with anxiety. He knew it was a joke, but he still couldn’t help wondering.

Buck filled his coffee and headed back to his desk. A Federal Express delivery person passed him on his way back. As he neared his desk, he saw Josiah intently trying to open the package that had been delivered to him.

“What you got there Josiah?” Buck said as he stood next to the large agent. He sipped his coffee as the ex-preacher wrestled with the box.

“It’s something that I have been trying to get for a long time.” Josiah pulled out his pocket knife and slit open the tape that bound the box. Finally able to get the package open, he looked inside and smiled. He reached his hands into the box and pulled out a vase.

Buck took a step back as his eyes rested on the vase. “Oh no,” he said aloud, taking another step back.

Josiah didn’t even notice. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off his newly acquired treasure. “This vase once belonged to a Buddhist monk that took a vow of silence that lasted for sixteen years.” Josiah turned the vase over in his hands. He ran a finger over the small images that adorned it.

“Instead of speaking, he kept a log of his life on this vase. See.” Josiah came around his desk and stood next to Buck. “Look at the detail. Here.” Josiah held out the vase to Buck.

“I...uh....no. That’s all right,” Buck said as he took another step back.

“Come on Buck. Look at this.” Josiah thrusted the vase forward. Buck held his hands up to indicate that he didn’t want to touch it, but as he drew his hands up, he bumped his fingers against the vase.

Terror crossed both agent’s faces as they watched the vase teeter on Josiah’s fingertips. Trying to regain his grip, Josiah lost hold of the vase all together. Buck watched in terror as the vase fell to the floor. The feeling of deja vu was so strong to him. The vase hit his foot and exploded into several pieces. Josiah almost cried.

Buck and JD rode up the elevator in silence, each lost in thought. They had just spent their lunch hour at a local diner, neither taking at all. “You going out tonight?” Buck finally asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence that hung over the pair.

JD jumped at the sound of Buck’s voice, but quickly tried to recover. He shrugged his shoulders. “Casey is coming home tonight so I am gonna pick her up. She wants to go to dinner.”

Buck looked back at the high polished door. He could see his pale reflection. “I can’t believe you are letting this get to you so much,” he thought to himself as he looked at the weariness on his face. He dropped his eyes to the floor as the elevator came to a stop.

The elevator doors began to slide open. Buck looked up and would have sworn that he saw the witch standing behind him. He turned quickly around, but there was no one there. JD stood just outside the elevator doors, watching with distracted interest. “What’s wrong?”

Buck turned back to his partner. “Nothing,” he said as he stepped out of the elevator. Just as his foot was about to connect with the ground, he felt himself being pushed by invisible hands. Buck put his arms out in front of him to try and break the fall. It didn’t work. He hit the ground with a thud, banging his head on the hard concrete floor.

JD bent down, his hands pushing at his fallen friend. “Buck, you okay?” he said as he grabbed Buck’s arm and tried to help him up. Trying to get back on his feet, Buck heard laughter. Quickly looking around, he saw Nate standing by his desk, his arms folded across his chest. He was laughing.

Laying on the couch, Buck held an ice pack to his head. “What a shitty day,” he said aloud to no one in particular. He had tried to reason out what had happened, but had given up. Instead, he had pushed it out of his mind. “Just a bunch of hooey.”

Buck began to relax, feeling sleep nipping at the corners of his tired mind. He was exhausted. He cleared his thoughts and allowed his breathing to become deep and slow. Just as he was about to drift off, the telephone rang. He jumped, startled by the booming sound in the silence of the apartment. Pushing the throw blanket off of him, he threw his legs over the side of the coach and pulled himself up.

As Buck took a step toward the telephone, his foot caught in the blanket. He was pitched forward, his arms flailing madly. His head connected with the coffee table, knocking him out cold.

“Aaaawwww,” Buck said as he began to come around. He brought his hand up to his forehead and flinched when it brushed against the massive lump that had formed. He slowly pulled himself up to the coach and sat with his head in his hands. The world spun around him.

Looking at the clock, he groaned. “I have had enough,” he said as he slowly stood up from the coach. Gaining his balance, he headed for his room.

On the way, he passed by the front door. It was unlocked. Buck stared at it with wide eyes. Had he locked it when he came home? He couldn’t remember. Quickly setting the locks, he started toward his room. He stopped and turned back toward the door. Still locked. “Can’t be too careful,” Buck said aloud as he entered his room and shut the door.

Chapter 6

Josiah stared out the front window into the fading afternoon. Thunder cracked loudly overhead as lightning tore through the sky. “But at least the rain stopped,” he said aloud as he pulled open his window.

A gentle breeze blew past him, carrying with it the smell of Halloween. He inhaled deeply. “Aaahhhh,” he said as a smile crossed his rugged features. He knew the smell of Halloween, knew it well. It was the aroma that carried with it so many memories. Times when things were simple. Times when his sister was still alive.

It was a smell of dry leaves and burning wood lingering gently in the air. It was the door way that existed between summer and winter. It was the quiet loneliness that somehow held that particular night in the palm of its hand. It was a night that he and his sister always shared.

He and Hannah had always loved to go trick or treating. Every October she would make a calendar. They would cross out each day as it passed, counting down until Halloween. Then they would dress up and wonder the streets of whatever town they happened to be living in at that time in search of tricks or treats.

Being the children of a missionary had been hard on them; always moving from town to town. Halloween was the only time when he and Hannah had any sense of consistency in their lives. It was a bond that only the two of them shared.

Josiah pushed back the flooding memories. He was a bottle of mixed emotions. On the one hand, he had years worth of wonderful moments that Halloween triggered. On the other, it was also the anniversary of Hannah’s death.

In 1991, on the day before Halloween, Hannah took her own life. And Josiah’s heart had broken. In the letter she sent to him right before she died, she talked of the times they shared as being the only time that she was ever happy. “Keep up our traditions brother and keep me in your heart.”

Josiah choked back a sob. The wounds were still so painful and fresh, even though it had been eight years since her death. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply on the Halloween air. A smile spread across his face as he could hear her sweet laughter in his mind. “Now is the time,” he said as he grabbed his long wool coat and headed for the door.

Josiah kicked at the fallen leaves as he wondered through the vast grounds of Madison Cemetery. The sky had gone black as clouds created a ceiling on the quiet city. The winds blew gently, grabbing at the tails of his jacket, as the rains had temporarily given Denver a break from it’s steady downpour.

He walked along the well kept paths of the cemetery grounds, looking at the headstones as he passed. In his mind he could see Hannah’s amazement when they found ones dated in the 1800’s. “Do you really think that people lived that long ago?” she would ask, seeing life through the eye’s of a child. He always laughed at her with a brother’s love. “Yes, Hannah. People have been around for a long, long time.”

They would walk through a different cemetery every year and make up stories about the lives of the people that rested there. They would look for the older sections of the cemetery and wonder what things were like in the times that the people were alive. They would look for decorations on the headstones that were different from the rest.

And they would talk. Talk about life and the future and people and everything that ever entered a child’s mind. Josiah sighed as an image of Hannah’s beautiful smile filled his mind. But mostly, they just enjoyed being together.

Josiah stopped in front of a beautifully done headstone. The marble was etched with leafy patterns that wound around the entire perimeter of the stone. At the top was a simple, but very detailed design of a rose. Amanda Beckett, the headstone read. 1832-1940.

“Wow,” Josiah whispered at the thought of living that long. “It’s amazing how long some people live to......”

“Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh”

Josiah jumped as a piercing scream ripped through the night. Immediately he went for his gun. “Damn,” he said when he realized that he had left it on his dresser.

“Aaaaahhhhhhh”

He turned quickly toward the sound. It seemed as if it were being carried on the wind. This time the scream was filled with more sadness and knowing, as if it had acknowledged its impending fate.

Josiah ran toward the mausoleum that lay in the center of the cemetery grounds. He was certain that was where the scream had originated from. He had been in the cemetery for over an hour and hadn’t seen any signs of people. He didn’t think there were many that were willing to venture into a dark cemetery, especially on the night before Halloween.

Josiah heard a struggle just as he rounded the corner of the mausoleum. “FREEZE ATF!!” he yelled as he came upon the attack.

Before him was a large man, about Buck’s size. He stood over a woman, his hands laced around her neck. He appeared to be strangling her. He was laughing and breathing heavy as the woman whimpered in pain.

At the sound of Josiah’s voice, the man turned to face him and Josiah’s heart froze. For a split second the man before him had bright blazing red eyes. Josiah closed his eyes in disbelief, only to re-open quickly.

The man was still there, a look of surprise splashed across his normal face. The attacker’s eyes were dark with fear. “Must have been the lighting,” Josiah thought to himself as he took a step toward the man.

“STAY where you are,” the man said in a deep disconnected voice that echoed through the quiet of the night. Josiah stopped, his heart racing madly as he tried to straighten out the voice in his head. It was ghoulish, almost unnatural for a living creature.

Josiah took another step forward against every ounce of judgment that his body held. He didn’t want to go closer. In fact, he would have been much happier to turn and run the other way. But something else had taken over. Instead he stood firm.

The man stared at Josiah for a minute longer, the hold on the woman’s neck loosening. Then he smiled and Josiah felt as if he would faint. Something was not right about the smile. It appeared to be covering the man’s entire face.

Josiah stood staring at the man unable to do anything more. He watched as the man let the woman’s neck go and she crumpled to the ground like an old rag. Still smiling, Josiah could have sworn he saw a instantaneous flash of red in the man’s eyes again before he took off running.

Josiah knelt down by the women’s side. He pulled her up into his arms, checking for a pulse. It was there, but it was weak. “Miss, can you hear me? Can you speak?” Josiah asked as he gently roused the victim.

“Yes,” she said in a faint, crackling voice. She drew her hand up to her neck and swallowed hard. “I can hear...” she tried, but began a fit of coughing.

“What’s your name?” Josiah asked once she had the coughing under control.

“Justine Hansen” she said as she tried to sit up.

“I’m going to take you to the hospital.” Josiah gently put his hands into her arm pits. But she pushed him away.

“No,” she said, grabbing his hands. “Please, don’t let him get away.” Her eyes pleaded with him.

His mind raced. He really didn’t think he should leave her alone, but he did want to try and catch the guy before he got away. He reached in his pocket for his cell phone. “Damn,” he said, realizing that he left that at home too. “Are you sure you are okay?” he asked, watching Justine with intense concern.

“Please,” she said as she pushed him toward the way the man had run off. “Get him.”

Josiah stood up. “I’ll be right back. Stay here,” he said as he took off after the attacker. He didn’t want to leave her, but she was so insistent that he find the attacker. Still, he was nervous. Something wasn’t right. He had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. And yet he still took off running, going deeper into the darkness of the grounds.

After ten minutes of searching, Josiah gave up. The back part of the grounds were too dark and went on for miles. He could have searched the whole night and still not covered the entire grounds. “Besides,” he told himself as he made his way back to the mausoleum. “I don’t want to leave Justine alone for too long.”

He was sure that she was probably frightened into a deep shock. When he had left her, her eyes were so wild with uncertainty. “She probably wasn’t even fully aware of what had happened to her,” he told himself as he saw the overhead light that stood on the outside of the mausoleum.

He headed over to where he thought the attack had occurred, but the women was gone. “What the hell?” he said as he stood in between a row of headstones. He started to run. “Justine” he yelled as he weaved in row after row of headstones.

Frantically he searched, turning this way and that way looking for the young woman. But she was no where to found. He stopped and tried to catch his breath. The wind whipped up around him, sending shivers down his spine.

He looked up at the sky and watched as the clouds drifted slowly. Every now and then, a small break in the coverage would allow the tiniest hint of the moon to shine through. “Where could she have gone?” he asked himself as he turned his attention back to the spot of the attack.

Slowly he made his way back to where he had left her. “Maybe she passed out, and I didn’t notice her the first time,” he said, trying to reason the situation out. He walked along the row of headstones and looked for any signs of the woman. But there was nothing.

The wind rustled up around him and Josiah thought he heard a man’s laughter, soft and faint. He turned quickly, but there was no one there. A drop of rain hit him on the face and he turned his attention again to the sky. Just as he looked up, there was a break in the clouds, and he saw the full bright moon peaking through.

Josiah was perplexed. He looked back down at the grounds around him. Deciding that she must have left by herself, he turned to leave. But something caught his eye. Josiah crouched to see what it was. He squinted against the weak moon light that shone down on the once again quiet cemetery.

A gasped escaped his lips as his eyes widen with terror. He stood up quickly, never taking his eyes off the marble headstone that stood before him. It read....

Chapter 7

Chris ran his hands across his face. “Aw hell,” he said as he leaned back into the black leather desk chair and rubbed at his tired, aching eyes. He had been staring at the bright computer monitor for three hours. “And I haven’t even made a dent in them,” he said aloud as he looked at the stack of reports sitting in his in box.

Although Team 7 had been without cases over the last week, his agents had spent the time playing catch up. “When they weren’t fighting,” he added. That had left him with plenty of his own catching up to do.

Swiveling his chair toward the big windows that lined his office, Chris stared out into the light gray sky. The week had been murder as far as weather was concerned. He hadn’t seen that much rain since he lived in Seattle. It hadn’t let up all week.

Chris stared at the puffy clouds that rolled by and thought of the pile of reports on his desk. Although he was pleased that his agents had used their time so wisely, he was bothered by the amount of work they had done.

Normally at this time of year, any person in the office was a prime target for a Halloween prank. And it wasn’t just Buck and JD that got into it. Everyone took part. Chris thought back to last year’s caper that Ezra had managed to pull off on him. He smiled as he thought of the look of triumph on the southerner’s face.

But this year, they had been unusually quiet. “Except for whatever happened to Nathan,” he thought as an image of a blooded Nate punching Buck in the jaw filled his mind. He had pulled Buck and JD into his office and both had sworn up one side and down another that they hadn’t done anything. When he asked Nate about it, Nate only shook his head and said he didn’t want to talk about it. Chris could only imagine that it must have been pretty bad.

But he just couldn’t see Buck denying it. He was usually so proud of his endeavors. Chris began to think about all his agents. They all had been acting strange during the week. “Well, stranger than normal,” Chris said smiling as he stared out the window.

Ezra had been on edge all week, jumping at even the slightest of noises. “And he avoided me all week too,” Chris thought as his brow furrowed. Vin had done little more than stare at this desk since Tuesday. The more Chris thought about it, the more he realized that the sharpshooter had been far more quiet than was even normal for him. “In fact, they have all been nervous and quiet, even Buck.” The only one that hadn’t seemed affected by the recent rash of Halloween jitters was Josiah.

Chris stood up from his chair and stretched, yawning as he did. “I need more coffee,” he said as he grabbed his mug and headed for the door. Pulling open the door, he stepped out into the dimly lit area of the ATF floor. He walked through the empty desks on his way to the small break area.

The deserted floor filled his heart with loneliness. Chris knew that he could have gotten all his reports done through the week and avoided being in the office on a Sunday. But if the truth be told, he had done it deliberately. He didn’t want to be home, not on Halloween.

He picked up the coffee pot and stared at the black brew as it poured into his cup. Thoughts of children going door to door in search of candy filled his mind. The reality of it was that he didn’t know if he could take being home alone. Halloween had always been Adam’s favorite holiday, second only to Christmas.

Sarah used to start working on Adam’s costume the week before Halloween. Adam would help and they would create elaborate costumes. Chris used to hang the decorations all over the house. He loved to watch Adam squeal with delight when he hung the witch that had run into the tree decoration. No matter how many times Adam saw it, he laughed as if it were the first time.

During the morning of Halloween, Chris would sit and watch all the Halloween cartoons and videos with his son before they went out for the evening to trick or treat. Sarah usually dressed up in a simple costume, like a witch or a black cat, and passed out candy. She even got Chris to dress up as a cowboy one year when he took Adam out. Buck had teased him about that one for a long time after.

But instead of allowing himself to relive the painful memories, Chris always buried himself in his work during holidays. It gave him a reason not to think about anything. “Besides,” he told Vin once when called on it. “It’s quiet and I can get a lot done.”

Chris headed back to his office. He sat down at his desk, sipping at his steaming brew. He sighed as a deep sadness took hold of his heart, images of Sarah and Adam tormenting his mind. He looked out the window again at the same cloudy gray sky. “Happy Halloween son,” he said as he turned his attention back to his computer and began typing.

Chris held his head in his hands as he stared at the report in front of him. His eyes fluttered as the first pressing of sleep nipped at his tired mind. He hadn’t slept well for several nights and it was finally catching up with him.

The black clad leader swayed as the onset of sleep weighed heavier. He jerked awake when he felt his head start to fall. “Shit,” he said as he tried to fight off the unwelcome guest. Unable to resist any longer, the agent laid his head down on the desk using his hands for a pillow. “I just need a couple of minutes,” he whispered to himself as his breathing began to slow.

BAMMMMM!!!

Chris jumped up from his desk, sleep marking his handsome features. He batted his eyes as he tried to push the cloudiness from his mind. “What was that?” he asked himself as he tried to determine if the noise had been real or just part of an immediate dream he had slipped into to. His heart raced in his chest.

His eyes scanned the office as the bewildered look slipped from his face. Just as he was about to attribute the noise to his dream, he noticed that several of the desk lights in the outer office area were on. He shook his head. “What are they doing here?” he asked himself as he ran his fingers through his short blonde hair.

He stretched his arms above his head as he walked over to his office door. Pulling his door open, he jumped back at the sight of a paper skeleton that hung in the doorway. “Dammit JD,” he said as he ripped the skeleton down and threw it on the floor.

He walked out into the middle of the desk area with his hands on his hips. He didn’t see anyone. The desks were still neatly arranged as they had been on his last coffee run. The only difference were the lights on. “All right. Very funny. Ha ha, you can come out now,” Chris said as he waited for his prankster agents to show themselves.

Chris waited for nearly five minutes. “Come on. That’s enough,” he said, starting to get a little irritated. He knew they were there, so why waste his time when they had been busted. By his command went unnoticed.

“Fine,” he said as he went back into his office and slammed the door. “If they are gonna insist on keeping this up, I’m not wasting.......” He stopped half way into his office. Chris stood staring at his desk. “Now, how did they get past me?”

His black leather chair was placed in front of his desk. He looked around the office. There was no other way to enter the office, but through the door he had come in. It also didn’t look like anything else had been messed with.

Chris walked over to the chair and moved it back behind the desk. Sitting down, he looked up at his computer to find it turned off. “Oh, I swear if they didn’t save my report, there will be some serious hell to pay,” he said through clenched teeth as he powered the system back up.

As he opened the case reporting software back up, he stopped. He could have sworn he heard someone calling his name. “It sounded like a woman,” he said softly as he stood back up from his desk. Through his office window, he could see that the lights had been turned back off. But the desks were moved.

Chris was just about at the end of his temper. He stormed back to the door, stopping only for precaution to make sure that the outside windows in his office were still locked. He wanted to check all possibilities before he blew up.

Ripping the door open, he nearly fell face first over a chair that had been placed in front of the door. “Shit,” he cried as his arms wheeled wildly, trying to keep his balance. Once he was sure he wouldn’t fall, he kicked the chair out of his way. “You know,” he said as anger nipped at every word. “I am losing patience with this really quick. You guys have had your fun, now come out.”

Silence was his only response as he looked at the oddly scattered way that the desks had been moved. He couldn’t help but wonder how someone was able to get the desks moved as far apart from each other and still not mess up the papers that were on each person’s desk. “I was only in my office for a few minutes,” he thought as other explanations entered his mind.

“That’s ridiculous,” he told himself as he went back into his office. Only this time, he left the door open. He wanted to be able to see anyone that was sneaking around. On his way to his desk, he stopped and turned slowly to a picture that hung on his wall. The picture was nothing new. It had been in that particular spot for as long as he had been in the office. It was an old photograph of Adam and Sarah that had been taken six years earlier on Halloween. In it, Adam was dressed like a knight.

Chris bared his teeth as the rage boiled up within him. He didn’t care if they wanted to pull pranks. He even enjoyed them most of the time. His agents were creative guys. No one had ever been hurt and nothing damaged. Until now.

Chris walked to the photo and took it off the wall. It was the same background, the yard behind their old house. It was Adam in his knight costume. But what was missing was Sarah. It looked as if she had been erased from the picture. “THAT’S IT,” he screamed as he slammed the picture down on his desk. He didn’t know how they did it, but he was going to put a stop to it and quick.

Chris paced back and forth in the conference room like a caged animal. The picture was folded in his arms. He had searched the floor and couldn’t find any signs of his agents. So one by one, he had called them and told them to come in for a meeting. Some had tried to argue a little, but most could tell that it was serious due to the tone of his voice.

Chris stopped as Buck walked into the conference room. “What’s up Chris?” he said as he took a seat at the far end of the room. Chris looked at his closest friend with contempt until he saw the massive knot that the rogue agent had on his forehead.

“What happened to you?” Chris asked, momentarily forgetting his anger.

Buck brought his hand up to his head and then looked at Chris. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told ya.”

Both turned their attention to the door as Ezra and Vin entered the room. Ezra looked from Chris to Buck. “What happened Mr. Wilmington?” he asked as he took a seat near the sharpshooter.

“What’s going on?” JD asked as he burst through the door. Vin jumped at the sound of the young agents voice. Chris eyed him closely. “Buck, what the hell happened?” JD moved to his roommate quickly and sat beside him. He kept his eyes on the nasty purple lump that marred Buck’s face.

“I fell,” he said as he turned his attention to Chris. “What is going on?” Buck said and Chris could tell that he was referring to more than just the reason that Chris had called the meeting.

Nathan sat across from Buck and smiled as he looked at Buck’s forehead. “What comes around goes around,” he said, never taking his eyes off of Buck.

Buck couldn’t take Nathan’s remarks any longer. “What the hell did I do to you Nate? I don’t understand. One minute we’re buddies and the next you are happy to see me hurt. What is it?” he asked as he stood up quickly from the table, knocking the chair down as he did.

“You know what you did,” Nathan yelled as he stood up too, anger taking hold of the situation.

Chris knew he had to stop whatever was going on before it ripped his team apart. “THAT’S ENOUGH,” he yelled. Pointing at Nate, “sit down.” He turned to Buck as he dropped his hand. “You too.”

Buck and Nathan both sat back down, crossing their arms and pouting like children. Silence hung over the six men as heavy as an anvil. Chris noticed that Josiah had yet to arrive, but he couldn’t wait any longer.

“All right gentleman. I have had enough of the Halloween fun. I don’t mind if you mess up the office. I don’t care if you bang on my door. I don’t even care if you cause me to fall over a damn chair. What I do care is that someone ruined my picture and I want to know who did it and how,” he said as he slide the picture to the center of the table.

The agents listened with confused expressions, looking at each other and then back to Chris. Buck grabbed the picture and stared at it with wide eyes. “Oh now, that ain’t right!” he said as he passed it on to JD.

JD looked at the picture. “Chris, I didn’t have anything to do with it. And further more, I didn’t really like the sick little prank that one of you all played on me,” he said as he passed the picture down to Ezra.

Now it was Chris’s turn to be confused. “Did something happen to you JD?”

JD looked quickly at the leader and back down at the table. He silently cursed himself for even saying anything. He was afraid that he had imagined the whole thing.

Again silence enclosed the men. It was Ezra that finally broke it. “I was attacked by a black cat that followed me from 73rd street.” Ezra looked at the men with wide eyes. He was terrified to say it because it sounded as crazy out loud as it did in his head, but he couldn’t take keeping it in any longer. He was surprised by understanding looks.

“Gone on,” Chris finally said when it looked like Ezra wouldn’t continue. And he did, reliving every last detail down to the feeling of being watched. When he finished, they all sat in silence, contemplating what the southerner had just said.

Vin had been staring intently at his hands while Ezra told his tale. Finally he looked up at each of the men that he had grow to consider his family. “I saw a ghost,” Vin finally said as the others listened.

And so it went, one after the other. All spilling their tales of the horrors that had been plaguing them all week. Nathan related his story, explaining why he had been so upset at Buck and JD. “I know you two had something to do with it,” he said, wanting badly to believe in it because it was the rational explanation. But Buck and JD continued to swear their innocence, reminding Nate that they were in the office with Chris that morning.

As Buck told his story, he was interrupted by a loud scream.

“Will you stop kicking me?” The men turned quickly toward the door to see Josiah standing with a large box in his hands. A man was down on the floor in front of him on his hands and knees, crawling away from the towering giant.

“Josiah, what the.....” Chris started to say, but stopped mid sentence as Josiah bent down and grabbed the man by the collar. Hoisting the scared man up, the six men immediately recognized him as Jock Steele, writer extraordinaire.

“Look who I found sneaking down the back stairwell,” Josiah said as he threw the man into a nearby chair. “And look at his box of goodies.”

The six men crowded around Josiah to see what he had found. In the box were numerous video tapes, each labeled with an agent’s name. There were photos of Vin, running in the park and of Ezra in his black jag. There were papers that contained schedules and equipment lists. “All the workings for a staged supernatural experience, isn’t that right Mr. Steele,” Ezra said as he glared at the small man.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Chris asked as he folded his arms across his chest.

Jock looked from each man and then mustered up a frightened smile. “It’s nice to see you all again.”

“So you had us all living in terror, fearing our own shadows so that you could test out some situations for your new book?” Vin asked, baffled by the audacity of the writer.

“I needed to know how men that were part of such an effective and cohesive group as yours would react when put into unexplainable situations,” Jock said as he looked from man to man. “It is the nature of man that was at the heart of the issue. Would you tell each other and collectively solve the problems or would you keep it to yourselves because it wasn’t an accepted male reaction to be afraid. It was quite a successful experiment.”

“Why you little....” Buck said as he started over the table after Jock. Ezra grabbed a hold of his waist and pulled his back.

“Don’t kill him yet. I would like to know how he did it,” Ezra said as he folded his arms across his chest.

“Some where more difficult to pull off than others,” Jock said sounding so proud of himself. “Take Mr. Tanner, for example. He is a creature of habit. He runs the same path at the same time every morning.” Turning to Vin, “That lovely child you encountered was my daughter. She’s quite the actress, isn’t she?”

“But what about Mary?” Vin asked, still not convinced that he had been the culprit.

Jock laughed. “Ms. Travis was quite a willing participant. Although, she did believe that it was under different circumstances. She was under the impression that you were searching out a lost case, and she was providing the answers for you. Mr. Larabee’s intrusion was simply perfect timing.”

“And what about Nathan?” Josiah asked from his corner seat.

“Mr. Jackson was a bit more difficult. I counted on his anger toward the two of you for locking the door. His frustration clouded his thinking to the point that he didn’t realize that he actually was on the 16 floor rather than the 13th which, if you go up there now, is currently under construction.”

“But that man, and the cold door,” Nate asked, the same mask of uncertainty rested on his face as it had on Vin’s.

“The coldness of the door was simply a coincidence. The weather has been very frigid and the non-existing windows caused the metal of the door to be unnaturally cold. And the man is a wonderful local actor named Jason Hills.” Jock dug in his box and pulled out a head shot. He handed it to Nathan. “Actually even resembles you Mr. Jackson.”

“So that was makeup,” Nate said as he stared at the picture.

“What about Jessie?” JD asked, turning his weary eyes up to the unscrupulous writer.

“That was actually a stroke of genius. I had a monitor on your computer so I knew that you were looking for the fitting. Plus when I saw the conversation with the girl, I decided to use that as my way in. She actually did end the conversation Mr. Dunne when you asked her to the first time. What you didn’t notice was the slight change in her screen name. That was actually me. And for the noose, I had a guy on the roof of the house while I filmed from the trees,” Jock beamed at the success of his plans.

“You son of a bitch,” JD said as he went after the little man. Buck put an arm around his friend, catching him before he could get his hands on the writer. Jock pulled back, his eyes wide with fear.

“And Esmeralda?” Buck asked as he got JD to sit back down.

“My wife, Mr. Wilmington. Yours was quite simple. It was a test in the power of suggestion.”

“But I felt the shock as I grabbed her hand. I saw those things,” Buck said not wanting to believe that he had been tricked by the writer.

“What you experienced Mr. Wilmington were in response to the indication by a person that you believed to be a witch that you were cursed. You were so caught up in the possibilities that what she was saying was true, that you saw what you needed to see. The rest was you. You believed that the mishaps would happen and they did.”

“The cat?” Ezra asked, his hand gently rubbing his forehead.

Jock pulled the ATF Building elevator pass from his coat. “Mr. Jenkins, my little girl’s cat, and this. The rest was a combination of a strange phone call, provided by myself of course and the early morning hours.”

“Okay, fine,” Chris said as he stood over the little man. “I can understand the desks, which I have to hand it to you was good. I understand the noises. But my picture. I could kill you, you know?” Chris cracked his knuckles as the small man jumped from his seat.

“No, wait Mr. Larabee. I have it here.” Jock pulled the picture out of his box. “We used a computer to duplicate the photo and erase your lovely wife from it.”

“All right,” Vin said as he sat on the table, his arms resting in his lap. “What did you do to Josiah? We ain’t heard his yet?” Vin motioned with his head to the large figure that sat in the corner.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Sanchez’s got mixed up. I had scheduled a psychic, but Josiah was very difficult to track down. We searched through records and his appointment book, but couldn’t figure out where he would be since it was a Saturday,” Jock said, obviously discouraged that one had slipped by him.

Josiah looked up quickly, his eyes wide with surprise. “But the cemetery?.....the girl? ....the struggle?”

“No Mr. Sanchez. I ended up at a Halloween play that my daughter starred in on Saturday night. So whatever happened to you at the cemetery, I had absolutely nothing to do with,” he said as an eerie silence fell over the conference room..........

The End

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