Free The Siege by Alexie Aaron Page B

recorder with him into the office.  He loaded the recording into Ted’s new program to take out the extra sound of the heating system and other electrical noise.  Once he felt he had cleared enough of the noise away, he played it again.
    “Lost, so lost.  Who wakes me from my nothing?  Who walks upon my grave?  Who ignores me when I call?  Who are you, and who am I?  I’m lost, so lost…”
    Mia stood inside the door listening.  She heard the recording on her way from the truck to the house and had come in quietly, worried that the spirit had gained momentum while she was gone.  She looked over at Cid who had his back to her with headphones on.  She cleared her voice.
    Cid jumped in his chair.
    “Sorry, I was trying to prevent that but…”
    Cid put his hand on his heart.  “I think I’ve had a heart attack.”
    Mia rushed over.  “Sorry, so sorry,” she said again.  “I just heard the voice and thought I’d sneak up on it.”
    “You’ve heard this before?”
    “I think it’s a he, and he visited me in the barn late last night when I was raiding your breadbox,” she explained.  “I take it he’s come back.”
    “I heard a voice, you know me, big ears, and I followed it.  I grabbed the dish and got this recording of it before it disappeared.”
    “How much did it manifest?”
    “Just a column of mist, and it had a hard time holding that together.”
    “Did Murphy see it?”
    “No, he’s out in the woods cutting evergreens with Dave.”
    Mia leaned back on her heels, surprised.  “Dave’s working?”
    “He’s with Murphy, that’s all I know.  Tell me about what you heard and saw.”
    Mia repeated the incident for Cid.  “His face lacked eyes and mouth.  Kind of looked like that costume from Scary Movie.  He was so distraught.  Not much energy.”
    “It came through a crack in the floor.  Do you think it’s buried under there?” Cid asked.
    “That used to be a part of the barn, but the developers filled it in when they converted it into a garage for April.  I don’t remember there being a crack in the floor,” Mia said honestly.  “I think Murphy would know something about a body.  He’s been roaming here for a very long time.  I suspect it’s coming from the woods south of us.  Perhaps moving through the ground is easier for it,” she suggested.  “Can I hear it one more time?”
    “Sure.”
    Cid replayed the recording.  Mia, who had sat down, began drawing.  When the recording finished, she handed the paper to Cid explaining, “This is the image I saw.  It’s also the image that I’m picking up as I hear the voice.  I don’t know if you know much about manifestation?”
    “Just what Murphy has explained.”
    “He’s the best source we have,” Mia said thoughtfully.  “My father has come across many skeletal remains in his line of work.  I used to go with him in the summertime.  To keep sane, I learned not to pay attention to these manifestations.  I was too young to understand, too young to help them.  I did learn something though.  When a ghost can’t bring about a full image of his or her face, it means that they can’t remember it.  It can also mean that no one visited their graves and thought of them.  You see, it’s the minds of the loved ones that project the image to the entities usually.  This soul, according to his own words, was lost when he died.  He most likely died of exposure or drowned in a bog.  Even murdered, I don’t know.  All I know is, something has disturbed the ground in which this soul rested.  All we have to do is find the disruption, and we’ll find the bones.”
    “What happens when we find the bones?” Cid asked.
    “I really don’t know.  We’ll have to make it up as we go along,” Mia said and winked at him.
    “I’ll clean this up some more and present it to the group.”
    “What group?” Mia asked.
    “PEEPs.”
    “I take it, you’re taking back your resignation.”
    “I can’t quit