An excerpt from Outrun the Darkness, Outwalk the Light, Book 6 in the Kyrie Carter: Supernatural Sleuth series
“How are you going to remember where we left the car?” Caine asked, stopping and looking around every few steps as if trying to memorize our route.
“If it would make you feel any better, Hansel, I could leave a trail of breadcrumbs,” I quipped, glancing back to make sure he was keeping up. I mentally acknowledged that his concern wasn’t unwarranted; I’d had to park a bit further away than I would have liked, in a random spot along the shoulder where the car wouldn’t be easily visible to anyone who might drive past. Still, this section of forest had become very familiar to me. “This is starting to feel like Groundhog Day,” I mused aloud.
“Feels more like Blair Witch to me,” Caine muttered. “I swear if I see any stick people hanging from the trees, I’m outta here, Swamp Angel or not.”
His comment did nothing to ease my own nerves as we picked our way through the underbrush, and neither did the pieces of branches that hung askew from several storm-damaged trees. The atmosphere grew heavier the closer we got to our destination. Every sound seemed amplified, and in my growing unease, I found myself holding my breath as I listened for any noise that didn’t belong.
At last we reached the clearing where the fallen log lay. It seemed darker here tonight without the brightness of the moon to illuminate the small space. Still, the darkness allowed the foxfire to glow more brightly. Caine gasped and shrank back as he stepped around me and spotted the eerie bluish phosphorescence close to the ground. “Is that…”
“Yes, that’s foxfire,” I replied, my voice trembling. Even though I was now familiar with the fungus and its properties, Caine’s overt nervousness had set me on edge as well. I hesitated, looking around and wondering if Loop Hill Ike would be here in spirit form—or at all.
At last, I approached the log. I broke off a large chunk and carried it back to where Caine stood. “This should be enough. There’s still plenty left for tomorrow night,” I sad, more to myself than to Caine.
“Why do we have to do this two nights in a row? Why can’t we just give her a bunch of those mushrooms and be done with it in one night?”
Why, indeed, I grumbled to myself. “I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for you. It’s just the way it works.” We started down the narrow path through the trees that would lead us to whatever waited at the confluence. “Actually, this had to be done three times; remember, I already did this once last night. After the third time, the Swamp Angel appears.”
“Okay, so why three nights? Why is three the magic number?” He persisted, reminding me of some of my preschoolers.
“I don’t know, Caine. The number three must have some special significance in the spirit realm.” I paused, squinting, as I tried to keep to the path. I thought about turning on the flashlight on my phone, but I didn’t want to draw attention to ourselves in case any nearby residents were outside. “Loop Hill Ike said the Swamp Angel is a spirit, not a ghost, so maybe that has something to do with it.” As an afterthought, I quickly added, “And no, I don’t know what the difference between a spirit and
a ghost is.”
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Camilla Voiez, British Horror Author
Hawk's Happenings 
Excellent beginning.
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That is a good question – why the number three? Thank you for sharing this.
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Very cool!!
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