Haunted: The Horror Diaries Omnibus Edition, #1

Ghost Park

Fifteen-year-old Chase Macmillan looked expectantly at her father from across the dining-room table. She’d been doing so since his arrival and subsequent announcement that he’d just received some good news. Chase’s dinner, which consisted of meatloaf and broccoli, was getting cold as she watched Mr. Macmillan eat his own meal in a hurry.

Eat your dinner, Mrs. Macmillan scolded Chase, although her own plate had hardly been touched. She was also anxious to hear the good news.

The Macmillan family was in dire need of good tidings. Mrs. Macmillan had recently lost her job at an office due to downsizing. Mr. Macmillan was an arborist and, since their town was already concrete-laden, work wasn’t a regular occurrence. It seemed as if money was always tight around the house.

Chase bit off the head of broccoli and chewed quickly. So, what’s the story? she asked, after swallowing.

I’ve been contracted for a major project, Mr. Macmillan said happily.

Chase had to suppress a sigh. Although Mrs. Macmillan may have wanted Mr. Macmillan to get a new contract, Chase wanted him to get a new job. Chase loved nature and hated to think her father was helping to destroy it.

That’s wonderful! Mrs. Macmillan said, getting up from her chair to give her husband a hug. I’m so proud of you.

That’s great, Dad, Chase said with less enthusiasm.

Tell us more, Mrs. Macmillan said, before Chase could make any unpleasant comments about Mr. Macmillan’s job.

Well, Mr. Macmillan began with a big smile, I’ve been hired by the municipal government to help clear-cut the Deer Hill Landscape. They’re going to use it for commercial zoning.

The Deer Hill Landscape? Chase cried, interrupting her father. You can’t destroy that forest! She could feel her heart pounding angrily. She knew clear-cutting meant completely destroying all the trees, shrubs, and anything else which was in the way.

It hasn’t been maintained for over a hundred years, Mr. Macmillan argued.

Many animals call that landscape home. Where will they go?

Mr. Macmillan shook his head at Chase as if to say she didn’t understand anything. That place isn’t safe. Don’t you remember what happened to little Jenny from down the road? She was lost in the Deer Hill Landscape for two days!

It really is a hazard, Mrs. Macmillan agreed. Too many people dump trash there. It smells awful and the odor carries all the way to West Avenue.

But the animals! You’re not seriously going to take this job, are you?

I’m sorry Chase, but I’ve already signed the contract.

I’m sure you can change your mind and get out of it, Chase said weakly, realizing she was fighting a losing battle.

I don’t want to get out of it, Mr. Macmillan replied. This job means a steady income for two months. I can’t afford to turn it down.

Whatever, Chase muttered, returning to her cold dinner. For some reason, she was no longer hungry.

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Chase was watching television later that night when she heard the telephone ring. She hurried to answer it but her father had already picked it up in the kitchen.

Hello, Mr. Daniels. How are you? Chase heard her father say to the person on the phone.

I’ve had better days, Mr. Daniels replied.

What’s wrong? Mr. Macmillan asked anxiously. Is there a problem with the Deer Hill Landscape?

Not exactly, Mr. Daniels replied. Family Value Superstore has insisted on making the grand opening of their store two weeks earlier. This means we have to start the clear-cutting right away.

Chase felt anger return to her heart. She couldn’t believe the landscape was being uprooted so that Family Value Superstore, a nation-wide department store, could expand their business. Since the corporation had more money than their small town, Chase knew the municipal government would do almost anything to keep Family Value Superstore happy. 

I’m always available, Mr. Macmillan replied. I could start work tomorrow.

Well, I’m glad to hear that, Mr. Daniels replied, because we’ll need you and your harvester ready to start work this Monday.

Chase had to suppress a gulp upon hearing the word harvester. The forestry harvester was a large machine equipped with chainsaws and blades. On its massive wheels it would tear through the forest, destroying everything in its path.

Chase could no longer sit around and do nothing. She hurried to her computer, opened the word processing program and began to type a petition. As the printer processed the neatly typed document, Chase looked at her calendar. It was Tuesday. That meant she had less than a week to get people to sign her petition and save the Deer Hill Landscape.

* * *

Chase worked hard for the next five days. She stood near the entrance to the mall and gathered two hundred and fifty signatures. Then she proceeded to various parks around her region and gathered one hundred and twenty signatures. Chase was sure it was more than enough to convince the municipal government to halt all production at the landscape.

She hand-delivered the petition to the government office and then waited for a reply. No reply ever came. Efforts to inquire about the status of her petition were met with employees who knew nothing about it. Chase was more furious than ever.

* * *

It was seven o’clock on Monday morning as Chase jumped out of bed and scrambled to get dressed. Since she’d overslept, she prayed her father was still at home.

I’m leaving for work! Mr. Macmillan shouted as he grabbed a pile of keys from the kitchen table and headed out the door.

Wait! Chase cried as she ran down the stairs after her father. Please don’t go.

Mr. Macmillan looked at his daughter in annoyance. Chase, I have to go.

No, you don’t, Chase pleaded. You can find another job. 

That landscape is just an abandoned piece of land. It’s not a conservation area, Mr. Macmillan snapped, closing the door harshly behind him. 

Chase looked after her father with mixed feelings. She knew he was only working to support his family, but she couldn’t help feeling angry.

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Mr. Macmillan wiped away the sweat that had begun to form on his forehead. Although it was only the beginning of June, the air was hot and sticky. Being inside a large machine, while pulling hard at the levers, didn’t make Mr. Macmillan any cooler. It had to be at least eighty degrees in his harvester.

He put his harvester on its highest level of power and proceeded forward. Going in a straight line, he was now half a mile into a forest that was becoming denser.

As Mr. Macmillan sliced the trees, he thought about Chase. He was really upset about her protest against his new job. Secretly, Mr. Macmillan didn’t like to destroy nature but, after inheriting the harvester from a distant uncle, he decided to pursue a career in deforesting. After all, its boarding cost a lot and no one was interested in purchasing it.

Mr. Macmillan was so wrapped up in his thoughts that the vision of a clearing in the distance made him stop the harvester abruptly. He got out of his machine and walked quickly towards the area of sparse trees. Pushing a few branches out of the way, he didn’t stop until reaching the edge of a playground.

What in the world? Mr. Macmillan gasped out loud as he stared at the playground.

Made out of solid oak, the playground contained two traditional slides, one slide that had many twists and turns, a large set of monkey bars and a high stand with a fireman’s pole to slide down.

As Mr. Macmillan approached the playground, he bent down to feel the wood and was surprised by how cold it was. Nevertheless, the playground was in perfect condition. Mr. Macmillan had never seen a playground made entirely out of wood, far less one that had withstood the test of time.

What’s going on? Why have you stopped working?

The external noise frightened Mr. Macmillan. He looked around, but couldn’t see anyone.

Are you there, Macmillan? the voice came again.

Mr. Macmillan sighed in relief as he realized the voice was coming from the walkie-talkie he had in his front pocket. Mr. Daniels, he said into his walkie-talkie, we have a slight problem.

What kind of problem? Mr. Daniels inquired.

Even though the quality of the walkie-talkie was poor, Mr. Macmillan could hear the frustration in Mr. Daniels’ voice.

You better come and see for yourself, Mr. Macmillan replied with a sigh. It seems as if the Deer Hill Landscape isn’t abandoned after all.

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Chase was helping her mother set the table for dinner when her father entered the house.

What are you doing home so early? Mrs. Macmillan asked in surprise. She motioned for Chase to set another place at the table. They hadn’t