Born on the 4th of July

Born on the 4th of July
Heather Graham


Copyright © 2020 Heather Graham
Born on the 4th of July Copyright © 2020 by Slush Pile Productions
All rights reserved.  This publication may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior express written permission of the author. Unauthorized reproduction of this material, electronic or otherwise, will result in legal action.
Please report the unauthorized distribution of this publication by contacting the author at theoriginalheathergraham.com, via email at connie@perryco.biz, or at Heather Graham 103 Estainville Ave., Lafayette, LA 70508.  Please help stop internet piracy by alerting the author with the name and web address of any questionable or unauthorized distributor. Born on the 4th of July is a work of fiction.  The people and events in Born on the 4th of July are entirely fictional.  The story is not a reflection of historical or current fact, nor is the story an accurate representation of past or current events.  Any resemblance between the characters in this novel and any or all persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.


about this story
A long Krewe of Hunters short story, or a short novella—approximately 20,000 words—Born on the 4th of July takes place as the holiday nears and comes upon us.
Angela and Jackson and their adopted son Corby have headed with Adam Harrison and the ghost of his son, Josh, to pay tribute at the graves of Adam’s family.
But while they’re there, the ghost of an old serviceman beckons to Angela.
He’s just seen his daughter, Annie, kidnapped. She had brought coffee and flowers to his grave. A murder of crows had burst into the sky; what appeared to be the giant figure of a man dressed like a crow had doused her with something on a rag—and disappeared through the graveyard and behind a group of family mausoleums.
Like Angela, his daughter is expecting a child any day.
While Jackson worries about Angela’s activity as her due date draws near, it’s precisely her condition that makes Angela certain she can’t leave this one to others—she must help in any way that she can. Jackson, of course, can do the crawling around and physical work. She’ll get into the cemeteries office and begin all that she can online.
        But the sensible way of doing things doesn’t always work as planned.
Angela will find herself dead center in a conspiracy that has gone on far longer than what they’ve seen, literally deep in it!
Deep underground, a victim herself.
But she knows she has Jackson, Corby, Adam, Josh, and the Krewe behind her. Nor will she forget her own abilities as they face down a malicious evil that has already claimed several victims.
But they’ll need the help of the living and the dead to make July 4th a genuinely happy holiday!
Born on the 4th of July
Prologue
The 4th of July was almost upon them.
Annie Green sat in the grass at the cemetery, feeling the wind, breathing in the scent of the earth and the breeze. It was a beautiful day, the first day of July. It might have been horribly hot, and maybe it would be later; but right now the temperature was just warm and the air around her was light and the cemetery was quiet and pleasant.
She had brought flowers, of course. She always brought them in honor of her dad. She’d loved him with all her heart. He’d served in the military, seen horrible action, and been decorated; but in her mind, he’d come out of it an exceptional human being. He believed in education; and he believed when people were left in poverty and misery, it was easy to stir them to war. The world needed more understanding, more diplomacy, and more money spent on agriculture and schools than on machines for war.
He was pragmatic, too.
It wouldn’t be easy to get the whole world to agree on anything at the same time. Heck, you couldn’t get a city council to agree on anything!
           But he had been a kind and amazing man.
      He’d been gone ten years, but she came here for every holiday she could. She came religiously every Father’s Day, around the 4th of July, Christmas, and more. She brought a cup of coffee for each of them—his being poured into the ground while she drank hers—and of course, she brought flowers lest people think she was too weird. She and her dad had shared many a cup of coffee while talking when he’d been alive, and the coffee was . . . well . . . it was a ritual that meant something to her, and she hoped to him.
She glanced at her watch. Kyle would be by soon to pick her up. He’d park on the cemetery’s pathway and come to the grave; he would have come with her for the entire time, but he knew this was special to her and he didn’t interfere.  She’d asked to come today with
the 4th of July still ahead of them because she’d wanted the cemetery to be peaceful and quiet. No fireworks, no groups of people—though she did have her mask hooked to her ear if she encountered others. She was so excited about her baby due so soon now. The seventh of July was her due date, but the doctor had teasingly told her that babies came when they wanted to, and it could be an all-American baby, born on the 4th of July.
Kyle was excited, also. He liked the idea of