Monday, August 8, 2011, 2:00 a.m. Los Angeles

My heart's pounding as dark shapes jump from boulders ringing the western end of the grotto. As they race toward us, the strangers cast black shadows under the full moon.

Max steps out from under the old oak's sheltering branches to scan the trail we hiked. Finding no attackers coming from the east, he takes a position in front of us.

Time seems to slow as one intruder trips over one of the many rocks dotting the basin. The stranger catches air, then hits the stone with a yelp. Max lets out a chuckle and adjusts his suit jacket like he's meeting a dinner date. Jonah shrieks and hides behind the big Russian.

Dr. Morton's to my immediate right, her face calm as she chants in a foreign language. Noelle darts behind the oak to the boulder from which it grows. Dropping to one knee, she reaches into a crevice hidden behind the trunk and pulls out a six-foot branch. A slight smile forms as she tosses the wooden staff between her hands. She plants herself to my left.

Marisol shoves between me and Dr. Morton. Her chin lifts and, for a split-second, her soft features harden into a skeletal mask. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end when she growls, "Idiotas." Idiots.

A sudden gust of hot air brings a sweet, sickly smell. The wind roars as the strangers rush our hill. I step away from Marisol to collide with Dr. Morton. A hazy white glob appears in front of her face, then stretches to the size of a person. Its gauzy edges sharpen to form a skinny old white woman wearing a hospital gown. The wind blows the back of her gown open and ruffles her grey bob. The grotto must be a vortex! I've never seen the elements affect a ghost.

A sick feeling spreads through my stomach as I notice the nubby stump where her left leg should be.

Jonah glances over his shoulder and his nose crinkles in disgust. "I can't unsee this shit!"

Dr. Morton sighs. "Susan, you've looked better."

The ghost snarls. "You'll carve up real nice!"

I should be scared, but heat rushes through my body. My palms burn as the intruders reach our group. With a deep growl, a black lab leaps from behind the oak. As his sleek form sails through the ghost, I recognize him as the mysterious dog who saved Kibbles in the portal. The lab slams into one pudgy man and sends him tumbling into the dry stream bed.

A sharp whistle sounds as Max tackles another man. Noelle's staff whooshes and connects with a thwack as she sends a third sprawling. Five men jump on Max. With a howl, Jonah throws himself on the man atop the pile and bites him on the shoulder. They tumble to the ground. Noelle is a whirlwind, yelling, "Kiai!" as she whacks the men atop Max.

The ghostly old white woman opens her mouth and lets loose a screeching wail. Dr. Morton raises her left hand eye-level with the ghost, then makes a sweeping motion toward the lone oak. Her gesture sends the ghost sideways to slam into the tree's trunk.

Memories of bullies flood my mind as a middle-aged white woman reaches me and takes a swing. Rage surges up my spine. I've never been in a fight, but my hand devours her fist in a tight squeeze. She screams as her fingers curl like a dying spider.

Dropping to her knees, she howls. "It burns!" I release my grip to kick her in the chest. My heart's pounding as the force of my blow knocks her backward. With a snarl, the black lab bites her shoulder and drags her into the dry creek bed.

My breathing's ragged as I scan the grotto. Dr. Morton's under the oak with the ghost she called "Susan." Max's attackers are now in a heap, being kicked and whacked by Jonah and Noelle. At the basin's center, eight strangers surround a group of four men. The tallest's handsome features are clearly visible in the moonlight. George Salvia. My heart skips a beat.

The brothers move in unison to deliver gut punches. Bones crunch as the attackers stumble over knee-high rocks. Why are the Salvias here?

The answer comes as I turn to Marisol. Fernando Salvia materializes and removes his hat. His forehead wrinkles as he peppers her in Spanish. Marisol talks over him in Spanish, so fast I can't understand a word.

With a grunt, she walks through Fernando. A white haze forms around them. Another gust of wind showers leaves from the old oak and scatters the mist. In Marisol's place stands a short, heavy-set, grandmotherly Latina. I recognize her from the vision. Graciela Hernandez.

Fernando's face whitens as he reaches for Graciela, but he's interrupted by a straggly haired blonde woman. Fists flying, she lunges for Marisol's grandmother. "Bitch, you'll bow to the Master!"

La Bruja snorts as she extends her right arm to snap her fingers. The woman's arm bends backward at the elbow. My gut tightens as bones crunch. Her unearthly shriek cuts through the swearing and snarling.

The grotto falls silent as the would-be attackers whimper and cry. One man tries to stand, but Ben Salvia kicks him in the butt and sends him tumbling into the dry creek bed. The black lab stands guard at the stream's banks, snarling at any intruder who dares to poke their head up.

Max, Jonah, and Noelle rejoin me as Fernando continues to pepper Graciela in rapid-fire Spanish. The Salvia brothers leave the intruders sprawled around the basin and crowd around their ghostly relative. George moves to my right and nudges my arm with his elbow. "You okay?" Brown eyes meet mine and my anger melts to a warm, tingly feeling.

A damp nose edges between me and George, breaking the contact. The black lab pads to face Graciela Hernandez, while the rest of us keep an arms-length distance.

His black snout touches La Bruja's hand. She chuckles. "Julano. Que lindo verte de nuevo."

George tilts his head sideways to touch mine. "I've never heard that name, but she said, How nice to see you again."

Noelle comes to stand next to the Labrador and places her oak staff at La Bruja's feet. "Gracias, Mrs. Hernandez."

As the lab turns to leave the circle, I drop into a crouch to touch him. I'd wondered if he was a ghost, but his fur is soft, his body muscular. As his blocky head turns to me, I lean in and whisper, "Thank you for saving Kibbles in the portal."

As he pulls away and bounds out of the circle, George grabs my hand and pulls me to stand.

Fernando waves his arms, I'm guessing in frustration over Marisol's disappearance. "Espíritu maligno, ¡libérala!"

My muscles tense and twitch as clouds cover the moon, casting dark shadows across the grotto. George's warm hand squeezes mine. "He said, evil spirit, release her." I fight to keep from being swept away in a thought waterfall. Mari's possessed? No one's ever held my hand before.

Still pinned to the oak, the ghost in the hospital gown screams at Dr. Morton. "Traitor! No one leaves the Family." As the psychologist walks to rejoin us, an image of the blonde teenager from the vision superimposes over her face. Jonah meets my eyes from across the circle and mouths, "Manson family."

Cripity crap! I'd Googled Charles Manson like Jonah recommended. The grotto vision comes together with what I learned online. Crazy eyes, she's Squeaky Fromme! And that old ghost, that's Susan Atkins. She died in 2009, in prison, of cancer.

I take a step back as Dr. Morton enters the circle. She brings her palms together like she's praying and bows to Graciela Hernandez.

La Bruja erupts in laughter. "Tell your precious Roberto I'd like a word."

The psychologist's forehead wrinkles and her lips curl downward into a frown as she chants in a strange language. The edges of Graciela Hernandez's body blur and Marisol reappears.

Her mouth is twisted in fury. "What are you doing? I asked my grandmother for help."

My mind's whirling as a sick feeling grips my stomach. Me and Shelby never forced our will on ghost children. We did the hard detective work of finding relatives and descendants. Our efforts took months, and sometimes, years, but once reunited with their family, the dead children were ready to move on. Departing the earthly realm was always their choice.

Marisol's eyes dart to us, then back to Dr. Morton. "I don't need saving. Get away from me!"

The psychologist wiggles her fingers like spider legs in Marisol's face. Her eyes roll back in her head and she collapses into Noelle, knocking them both to the ground.

Fernando drops to his knees and tries to hold Mari, but his hands pass through her shoulders. Turning to Ben, he shouts something in Spanish. George squeezes my hand again. "He wants us to help her."

Ben leans in and whispers to Fernando. The ghost's forehead scrunches as he snorts. "Tesoro." George doesn't translate, but I know what Fernando said. Treasure.

Dr. Morton turns to me and grabs my upper arms. George pulls me away as Jonah separates from the circle to confront the psychologist. "That ghost is Susan Atkins, one of Manson's girls. And that blonde teenager in the vision was YOU! You're one of them!"

She shakes her head. "No, I left them the night they confronted Graciela Hernandez. She saved my life!"

Noelle shifts to a cross-legged position and pulls Mari into her lap. She glares at Dr. Morton. "You've got a shitty way of showing your thanks. Mrs. Hernandez came to help us!"

Betty Morton backs out of the circle to join Max. They speak in whispers. As he shakes his head and walks to rejoin us, her shoulders slump and she retreats to the trail. The moonlight turns her blonde hair silver as I watch her hike until she disappears from view.

I squat by Marisol's side and get a water bottle from my backpack. George drops to his knees and grasps her right hand, feeling for a pulse. His face broadens to a smile, and he gives Fernando a thumbs up.

A raspy voice from outside the circle cuts the night air. "Let me go! You little fuckers, we're gonna mess you up."

Ben turns to the oak, where Susan Atkins remains trapped. "For Christ's sake, shut the fuck up, you old bat!"

Marisol's eyelids flutter open and closed. I uncap my Hydro Flask and dribble water into George's left palm. With his right hand, he flicks droplets onto Mari's cheeks. Her head lolls back.

Fernando cups his hands around her face as he whispers, "Mi amor."

George raises an eyebrow at Ben, who speaks to Fernando in Spanish. "Quien es ella para ti?" Who is she to you?

Before Fernando can answer, the black lab noses back into the circle and pads to Marisol. A long, pink tongue extends and laps at her chin. She raises her head to stare, nose-to-nose, at the dog. He steps backward, turns and bounds off into the night.

Marisol coughs. "What happened? The last thing I remember is being attacked."

Fernando's face breaks into a wide smile. Lips pursed, he leans toward Marisol.

Noelle breaks the embrace by scrambling to her feet and pulling Marisol with her. She side-eyes Fernando as me and Jonah join her in a group hug.

Susan interrupts us as she thrashes against the oak's imprisonment. "You kids are soooo fucked. We'll gut you little shits like pigs."

AUTHOR NOTES:

Banner photo of the Grotto oak in the Santa Susana Pass State Historic Park, photo taken by the Author

Character Illustration of Sheriff Graves

Playlist: Last Girl on Earth by the Supreme Beings of Leisure

https://youtu.be/XQyMZtJanxc