I shook my head and stared at the sky, silently asking,Why me?
“Alice is right,” Ruth added. “We’ve seen her get spirits to do her will.” She took a menacing step toward Birda. “So you’d better be nice to Blissful.” Her eyes narrowed. “Or else.”
“Is that what you’ve become? A bunch of old ladies who threaten others?” Birda glared at Ruth and Alice. “If that’s how you want to play this, then so be it.”
Play this? Where did this old lady learn how to talk? “Okay.” I grabbed Ruth and Alice by the arms. “Come on over here. Let’s separate before the two of y’all start throwing punches.”
“If I threw anything, it would be shortbread.” Alice considered that a minute. “Never mind. I wouldn’t waste it on the likes of Birda.”
Birda flipped Alice off. My eyes flared. Wow. This lady was something else, wasn’t she? Definitely not the poster child of Southern gentility.
By the time I got Ruth and Alice cooled down, another group of hunters, this one much younger, showed up and took the reins.
“Okay, y’all, for those of y’all who don’t know me, my name is Devlin Monk,” said a man who appeared to be in his thirties. He was medium build with short blond hair. He wore military-style clothing right down to his boots and his glinting military-style watch.
His bright blue eyes pierced the crowd. “Every year the Backwoods Banshee, as she is called, appears this night in the forest. Most folks have seen her in the same spot, by the old covered bridge, though there have been some reports that she appears in the water below or on the road up to half a mile beyond the bridge. And then some years she doesn’t appear at all. But hopefully that won’t happen tonight. Hopefully she’ll do what she does best—show up on the anniversary of her death. If you’ve never heard the story, here it is in a nutshell. The banshee was born and raised across the pond in Ireland. She was a mail-order bride and came to be married to a local man here.
“From all reports her husband was a kind, good man. One day a daughter was born to her. It was the happiest day of her life. Then one year sickness came. Within a month the banshee lost her husband and baby daughter. Deciding that she had suffered enough, she came out here to the covered bridge and threw herself into the rushing water below, where she died.”
Devlin glanced at all of us, his gaze seeming to search to make sure we were sufficiently scared. He paused a few more seconds, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
“But once a year, on this night, the banshee returns. Some have only seen her,” he said in a spooky voice. “Others have experienced her wailing. But be careful; it’s said that if you hear her screams of sadness, someone in your family will die soon.”
Devlin rubbed his ear. “Luckily I’ve only ever seen her.” He snickered. “But that’s the story. Now. Who’s ready to go find the banshee?”
The group howled with excitement. We set off through the forest, flashlights and head lanterns lighting the way.
Roan held a light for me. “I don’t know about you, but that story totally creeped me out. I might just go home. Not even bother searching for the banshee.”
I swatted him playfully. “If I’m out here, you’re out here.”
“You didn’t even know I was coming.”
“Doesn’t matter.” I flashed him a bright smile. “I know you’re here now, and I’m not letting go.”
The four of us followed Devlin into the woods. All around me, the sounds of branches snapping and breaking filled the silence.
“Thank goodness we’re not hunting Bigfoot,” Ruth said. “I reckon he’d hear us coming from a mile away.”
“Oh, I’m sure he already has and left.” Alice pointed to the woods. “Everyone knows animals hear better than humans. He’s probably in Georgia by now.”
Ruth raked her fingers down her face. “Yes, I’m sure he is.”
Birda stalked up to Ruth. “If we really want to compete to win, we’d better split off. If we all see the banshee at the same time, no one wins.”
“Let me guess…” The venom in Ruth’s voice was unmistakable. “So that you can get a head start on seeing her.”
Birda’s mouth twisted into a fake smile. “No. So that it’s fair. I’m trying to give you chance at seeing the banshee. We all know neither you nor Alice has ever seen her, but my team has seen her at least ten times. Haven’t we, girls?”
The ladies hooted at Ruth and Alice.
“Well, you don’t have to rub it in,” Alice said.
Devlin turned around. “Is that a celebration I’m hearing from Birda’s Chicks?”
I must’ve had a confused look on my face because Birda pointed at me. “That’s what we’re called. Birda’s Ghost Hunting Chicks. And we’re the best.”
“But you don’t have a business,” I said.
