Page 53 of Country Mist

Haylee giggled while Tyson smirked before composing himself for the photo and putting on a severe expression.

The photographer got behind what appeared to be an old-fashioned camera from the 1800s, but likely contained modern technology.

In a few minutes, they were done. They examined the photos of themselves—one option was sepia, while the other was in color. After selecting a package with sepia-toned pictures, it took only a few moments for the printouts to be ready and for Haylee and Tyson to pay before they left.

“Let’s go to the OK Corral,” Haylee said as they left the photographer’s studio. “I want to see where the Clantons and Earp brothers fought it out.”

He nodded. “Afterward, we can get the truck and drive to the Boothill Cemetery.”

They arrived at the OK Corral then stood in the same spot where that legendary gunfight had occurred so many years ago. The thrill of the reenactment made her skin tingle.

After traveling to and viewing Boothill Cemetery and walking amongst its old tombstones, they drove to the parking lot near the courthouse.

Tyson glanced at the blazing sunset as they made their way from the lot. “Time for our ghost tours.”

“I’m ready.” She grinned.

The old courthouse had a clock tower, and tickets were sold inside. Tyson purchased two for the courthouse tour and a separate pair for the ghost adventure they planned to go on later.

Their courthouse guide took them throughout the building, and they soon learned about famous town marshals and some of the lawless men who had been housed in the century-old building.

Haylee and Tyson enjoyed themselves so much by the time they finished exploring the courthouse that she was eager to participate in the upcoming ghost tour. They returned to Allen Street, where the courthouse desk clerk had told them to meet up.

Haylee leaned into Tyson as they neared the meeting site. Standing before them was a man in clothing from the 1800s, their probable guide for the evening. He had a pointy gray beard and mustache that ended with twirled tips.

After everyone quieted, he began talking about the area’s more gruesome history.

“Follow me.” The guide turned away. He paused and glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t get left behind—you might never find your way back.”

Tyson grasped Haylee’s hand and leaned close. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you get lost.”

Haylee smiled up at him. “I’m not letting go of you.”

After hearing the guide, a few of the five people standing before him snickered while others murmured to each other before falling in behind their guide. One of the women gave a nervous giggle and said in a loud whisper to her partner, “I’ve heard this tour is spooky as hell.”

“You may end up regretting your decision to come here.” The guide’s voice quavered in the night. “We may see and hear things beyond imagination.”

As they walked, he pointed out old buildings that had been abandoned for decades and related stories about murders, mysterious deaths, and other strange happenings.

Haylee could almost swear she heard ghostly whispers at one point when the guide was going through his routine.

They walked along a deserted street close to a saloon, and Haylee shivered as an eerie feeling came out of nowhere and slithered over her skin. It was as if a presence was hovering nearby. A chill rolled down her spine.

A glowing orb appeared in front of them.

The guide made a startled sound and stepped back as the glow grew brighter until it took shape—a young woman in an old-fashioned dress floated in front of them and pointed her finger at the guide. “It was you.”

The guide took another step back, and his voice trembled. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

The phantom of the woman flickered and shimmered in the air, and her face grew darker. “You will pay for what you have done.”

The ghost screamed an eerie, drawn-out, shuddering wail.

She vanished, leaving behind a deafening silence.

The others in the group started speculating about the image and how real it looked.

“The ghost was real.” A woman with long dark hair and large black eyes spoke emphatically. “I’m a sensitive—she is here because she was murdered in this alleyway. She seeks vengeance that can never be granted.”

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