Текст книги "Island of the Forbidden "

Автор книги: Hunter Shea

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Paul had changed into a turtleneck sweater and black jeans. The house was downright arctic, but he also had to dress better for the camera. Nina had donned several more layers of long scarves that swished past her waist. Mitch and Rusty were wearing thin gloves.

“So, how should we start?” Paul asked.

It was still light outside, but they had closed all the blinds to amp up the eeriness of the house. It would be truly dark soon enough and they would switch to night vision.

Mitch took the camera from his shoulder and placed it on an end table. “You should stand by the fireplace and introduce yourself, then tell the viewers where you are and get into a little history of the house. Make sure you start with the murders twenty years ago and work your way down. We need to hook people right away.”

“Is there any way we can start a fire?” Nina asked. The words formed a swirling mist as they left her mouth.

“It’ll be better if we keep the scenery stark,” Rusty said, framing the scene with Paul alongside the fireplace that was almost big enough for a man to stand within. The stones had been charred black. It looked like a gateway to a bad, bad place. “Just aesthetically speaking.” He walked out of the room and into the library.

Paul rubbed his hands together. “Rusty’s right. I know we’re all cold, but we have to set the opening scene just right. Nina, do you want to stand next to me or the other side? After I do a little history thing, you can talk about what you’ve sensed ever since you came to the island.” For some reason, Nina gave him the creeps. It wasn’t necessarily the fact that she could see and talk to the dead. Eddie could too, supposedly, and the only thing he worried about with Eddie was getting a swift uppercut in defense of Jessica. The guy was wiry but something in his look told Paul he was happy to put a hurt on him if needed. He was glad they were outside with the kids.

Mitch said, “We’ll list your credentials underneath you during post-production.”

Nina opted to stand on the other side of the fireplace. Paul ran his fingers through his beard, putting any stray hairs back in place. He took a deep breath. No pressure. The entire financial fate of the family was only resting on this. Nope, nothing to worry about at all.

“Rusty, you ready to roll?” Mitch called out.

“I thought I was,” he called back. “I can’t get my camera to work.”

Nina turned to Paul and said, “Must be battery drain. Happens all the time when there are strong spirits near.”

Rusty came out shaking his head. “The battery’s fine. All I’m getting on video is a black screen. How’s yours, Mitch?”

The big man looked through his viewfinder. “I’m locked and loaded. How about I shoot the opening scene a few times from different angles?”

Sighing, Rusty said, “You’re gonna have to. This sucker is dead for the moment. I’ll have to mess around with it some more and see what I can get.” He went back to the library, shutting the door behind him.

“You want to tell Daphne and Tobe not to come down?” Mitch said.

“I already did,” Paul assured him. “I also said we’ll have them on-camera tomorrow night when we really get into things.”

“They all right with that?” Mitch asked. “Your sister looked pretty pissed before.”

“She’ll be fine,” Nina said before Paul could respond. “Let’s shoot this damn thing.”

Mitch took his place opposite them, attaching the camera to a tri-pod. There was going to be a ton of hand-held work in the shoot. Adding some steady shots throughout would keep viewers from getting seasick.

He held up his hand. “Okay, in five, four, three.”

He pulled down the last two fingers silently. Paul took the cue and started to speak when the lights went out with an audible pop.

“Goddammit!” Mitch growled.

“Are you kidding me?” Paul said. Bits of dying sunlight seeped through some cracks in the blinds, making it possible to move without tripping over the few pieces of furniture in the room. “Rusty, did you do anything in there to kill the juice?”

The library door slid open. Rusty said, “Why are you filming in the dark?”

“You have light in there?” Paul asked.

“Yeah.”

Mitch clicked a flashlight on and pointed it at the ceiling light. He reached up and unscrewed the bulb. “Sucker blew.” He went over to the pair of lamps on the two end tables, just out of the framed shot by the fireplace. The bulbs squeaked as he unscrewed them. “These too.”

“You mean to tell me, all three bulbs burned out at the exact same time?” Paul said.

Nina whispered, “The children are here.”

Paul said, “Well, since you can talk to them, can you tell them to please stop breaking our bulbs? It’s not like I can walk down to the store and pick up more.”

He hoped his cavalier attitude was good enough to cover the icy fear that had settled into his gut. It was one thing to talk about ghosts, quite another to have them messing around with things in the physical world. But this is what they wanted.

I’ll never think of “be careful what you wish for” the same way again.

“I can’t just talk to them like I can to you,” she said. He heard her move about in the darkness. A shaft of light stabbed his eyes when she opened a set of blinds.

“Isn’t that what Eddie can do?” Paul asked. She had said Eddie’s talent was prodigious.

The slight dig at Nina brought a dangerous curl to her upper lip. Mitch said, “I’m going to find some more bulbs and we can try this again.”

Paul felt something tickle the back of his neck. He slapped it hard, thinking a small bug had gotten tangled in his hair.

“What’s the matter Paul, you don’t like it when the dead get curious?” Nina said with a mocking laugh. He shivered, a head-to-toe seizure that made the edges of his brain go fuzzy.

What the hell have we gotten into?

Alice and Jason led them to a tight, circular gathering of trees. The kids easily ran through the largest gap. Jessica and Eddie had to squeeze through sideways.

“See?” Alice said, pointing down.

Three rectangular tombstones, each no more than two feet high and simply bearing etched crosses in their faces were lined up within the small clearing. The weathering of the stones was the only way to tell their order of placement. The oldest was covered in sickly yellow lichen. Its edges had been worn down over time. The one next to it had a large crack running diagonally. It looked as if a stiff breeze would finish the job and sheer the stone in half.

The last headstone looked relatively new, the bleached stone in stark contrast to the older, weathered markers.

Jessica knelt down, brushing her fingertips over the stone faces, running along the groove of the carved crosses.

“Are there any names on the other side?” she asked Eddie. He stepped around them and shook his head. “Nothing.”

The fading beams of sunlight worked through the tree gaps, illuminating the headstones like a stage light. It was as if they wanted to be found in their bizarre hiding place.

“It’s like a little, natural church in here,” Eddie said.

“The Last Kids don’t ever come here,” Jason said. Jessica noticed how close Alice and Jason were standing next to Eddie. They looked plenty scared.

“Thank you for showing us,” she said. She could see the house not more than fifty feet away. She wasn’t sure she and Eddie would have ever spotted these tombstones if it weren’t for the kids. They’d been hidden in plain sight—sort of. “Why don’t you head on up to the house and see your mom and dad? Eddie and I will be inside soon.”

Jason regarded her with open skepticism, but she could tell he was anxious to get away from the tiny graveyard.

Alice said, “Don’t stay long, Ms. Backman.”

She grabbed her brother’s hand and led him out of the circle of trees. Jessica watched them until they went inside.

“What the hell is this?” she asked Eddie. “Maybe it’s a pet cemetery or something. Who buries a person without at least putting their name on the marker?”

Eddie knelt onto the leafy ground, laying his palms flat.

“There definitely aren’t any pets down there,” he said. “It’s people. You want to find out who?”

“How? I’m not getting a shovel.”

“You remember when we connected with that spirit in New Hampshire?”

She’d never forget. With Eddie as a conduit, he’d been able to bring her in direct contact with the hideous energy of a man who had committed suicide just blocks away. She also remembered it hadn’t ended well.

“I do,” she said, “hence my apprehension. I think I’d rather go the way of the shovel.”

He patted the ground. “Their spirits aren’t here, at least at the moment. That much I can tell. It won’t be like last time. But I may be able to see.”

She squatted down next to him. “You sure you can do it?”

“It used to be easy. I may struggle a bit, but I’m feeling a little stronger now. Come on, it’ll be one less mystery we have to muddle through.”

He held out his hand and she took it. “Now what do I do?”

He lay back, the top of his head resting against the oldest stone. “Just lay next to me and close your eyes. Let’s see if I can make a connection.”

“Sometimes I think you’re scarier than the EBs,” she said, settling into the moldy leaves.

“This coming from the girl who EBs are afraid of. Now, try to relax and don’t talk.”

His hand felt warm wrapped around hers, and comforting. A bird fluttered overhead. She was tempted to open her eyes to watch it take flight.

She resisted the urge. This was Eddie’s show now.

They lay side-by-side for a while, until she could no longer tell how much time had passed. Despite laying in dirt and leaves and God knew how many bugs, she let all of her stresses go, to the point where she thought she had fallen asleep.

You’re just in between, Eddie’s voice whispered.

Are you in my mind?

Just enough to be able to talk to you and show you anything that comes through. How do you feel?

Like I’m floating on water. Is that normal?

I can think of worse ways to be. Can you still feel my hand?

She flexed her fingers, but she couldn’t tell if she was physically doing it or using the phantom fingers of her mind.

Yes.

Good. Don’t let go. We’re going to slip down now. Just stay with me, no matter what you see.

It suddenly felt as if she were being sucked into a great, dark funnel. A gust of air burst from her lungs.

Down they went, through crumbling dirt, the smell of earth, life and decay pummeling her senses.

They stopped with a jolt in a pitch-black chamber.

Where are we? she asked.

In the coffin. Let me see for you.

Slowly, a man came into view, his face in quiet, eternal repose. His waxy skin stretched over sharp cheekbones, his gray hair combed back over a high forehead. His mouth was a tight slash with bloodless lips above a cleft chin. The image gave her a start.

Which grave are we in? she said.

The oldest. She felt Eddie’s puzzlement.

That can’t be possible. He looks like he was just buried.

There must be something at work in the chemistry of the island that’s preserving his body. It’s like the incorruptibles, bodies that weren’t preserved in any special way that don’t decay. Catholic saints like Bernadette and Padre Pio are said not to have decomposed even though they died a long, long time ago. Environmental factors can cause a kind of mummification.

Jessica said, or thought, This is bizarre. I’m getting a lesson on mummification while in the coffin of a dead man. Before I get too weirded out, can we go to the others?

We can. Just hold on tight. I don’t want to lose you down here.

He chuckled.

Glad you can find humor in all of this, Jessica said.

Hey, welcome to my world. Now you see why I drink.

The next corpse looked similar to the first, only he was younger when he’d died, with full, sandy hair and a sharp nose. The last was the oldest of the three. The flesh of his face sagged from his skull, but it still retained a lifelike pallor. Unlike the others, this one hadn’t been prepped to look good in the afterlife. His hair was unkempt, with wild bristles sprouting from his nostrils and ears. Instead of a suit, he’d been buried in a dirty button down shirt and loose slacks.

Time to go back up, Eddie said.

To Jessica, it was like that moment between dreams when you suddenly feel as if you’re falling from a short height. She came to, feeling the ground swell up underneath her. Springing to a sitting position, she winced with pain as the blood rushed to her forehead.

“Holy shit,” she said. “That was wild.”

Eddie swatted dirt from his pants, offering a hand to help her up. “See, I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“Well, now we know there are three men buried behind the house. We just need to find out who they are.”

“Oh, I did that. There was just enough residual energy left for me to identify them.”

She held up a hand. “Before you say anything, let me guess. Could they be three generations of Ormsby patriarchs?”

A smile spread across his face. “Did you feel it when you were connected with me?”

“It doesn’t take a psychic to put two and two together. But why the unmarked graves? And why are the Last Kids afraid of them?”

The sun had set while they were exploring and the pervasive chill had taken root in the darkness. They wedged their way out of the hidden cemetery and headed to the house.

Eddie said, “I have a feeling they’ll tell us when they’re ready.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Daphne did her best to avoid the proceedings downstairs. She wanted to be as far from Nina D’Arcangela as possible.

I wonder what her real name is, she thought as she listened to Jason and Alice brush their teeth behind the semi-closed bathroom door. Probably something drab and mundane like Sally Johnson. And here we are, completely taken in by her. Tobe and Paul won’t listen to reason. All they can see are dollar signs. But what if this doesn’t work? What if no one wants to even air it? In the end, will it all be worth it? Jessica seems like the only one who really has a sense of what’s going on and even she’s concerned.

“We’re done,” Jason announced. She opened the door to a pair of bright, exaggerated smiles. She cupped each of their cheeks in her hands.

“Great job, you two. The cavity monsters will have to find other mouths to settle in tonight.”

Alice ran a brush through her fine hair. “Can we say goodnight to Uncle Paul?”

Daphne felt the muscles in her neck tighten. “Not tonight, dear. He’s busy with his friends.”

“Are they really making a movie?” Jason asked.

“In a manner of speaking.”

“Can I be in it?”

Daphne pressed her forehead against her son’s and kissed his nose. “You may not. Now, off to bed.”

They scooted into their room, jumping under the covers. Daphne put two more logs on the fire. Nothing seemed able to cut through the cold. She worried about the kids getting sick. I should set the alarm to check on the fire every couple of hours.

She could hear Paul and Mitch talking downstairs. Nina let out a slow, tired laugh.

She had to know about the children!

Daphne’s talk with Jessica had changed everything. Nina had proven to her that she had an ability few possessed. If she could find Jessica out of the millions of people in the country, and know about her gifts, surely she would have been able to sense the same thing in Alice and Jason.

Were they the insurance policy in case Jessica and Eddie didn’t take the bait?

And you went right along with it, Daphne. Not a moment’s hesitation when this whole thing was concocted over too many glasses of absinthe in the Hammersmith’s wine cellar in Savannah. You’re a terrible mother. You put money before them. Money and status.

As much as she wanted to punish herself, she put a smile on for her children, tucking them in bed. “Do you think Ms. Backman can read us a story?” Alice said.

“I can ask her.”

“Please, Mommy. And then you can read one too.”

Alice grinned, her large, shimmering eyes reflecting the dancing firelight. Daphne felt her heart tear in two. “I’ll be right back,” she said, patting the covers. Jason was already immersed in Tom Sawyer.

As she closed the door, Jessica was just coming up the stairs carrying a bottle of soda and a bag of rice cakes. She didn’t look happy to see her.

“I take it you’re avoiding the shoot or whatever you call it,” Daphne said.

Jessica nodded. “If they leave me be, I’ll do the same.”

“I wonder if I could ask a favor of you.”

Jessica’s lips compressed into a tight line.

“Alice would like it if you could read her a story. She’s really taken to you. So has Jason.”

The tension in Jessica’s face slackened until she was almost smiling. “I’ll be happy to. Let me just put this in my room.”

She took no more than two steps down the hall when the sound of a slamming door reverberated down the walls and floor. They both jumped.

“What was that?” Daphne asked, her hand over her heart.

Jessica ran down the hall to the Blue Room. She gripped the doorknob, slowly turned it and opened the door. When she pulled her hand away, she flicked it up and down.

“Wow that’s cold,” she said.

The door to the Yellow Room opened and Eddie walked into the hall. “Was that you?” he asked.

“I was down there with Daphne. I left the door open when I went downstairs. Do you feel any kind of breeze?”

They swept their open palms around the area by the door and window at the end of the hall. “Just a dribble of air coming through the old frame,” Eddie said, nodding at the window. “Not enough to slam a door.”

Daphne watched them discuss what had happened as if it were an everyday thing. What kind of people didn’t bat an eye at the unknown? What had they seen in their young lives to harden them so?

“Daphne.”

The fragile, child-like voice sounded as if someone had come right up to her ear. She shrieked, swatting at her ear.

“What happened?” Jessica asked.

Daphne felt the blood rush away from her extremities. Her teeth began to chatter.

“Some…some…someone said my name.”

“Could it have been someone downstairs?”

She shook her head violently. “They whispered it right in my ear.”

Eddie stared at a spot just over her shoulder. She was too afraid to ask what he saw.

“Don’t be afraid,” Jessica said. “Would you be scared if I whispered in your ear?”

She tried to calm her racing heart.

“No.”

“That’s right. Because either way, there’s nothing threatening about it. The only difference is, you can see me. The one person here who can see both is Eddie, and if he’s not worried, you shouldn’t be either. Why don’t we read to the kids together? It’ll help take your mind off it. The first time can be a bit of a shock, I know.”

Eddie gave a slow shake of his head, but it wasn’t directed at Daphne or Jessica. Daphne quickly walked to the kids’ room and was met by Jessica. It was amazing how helpful she was being, despite being so angry with her just hours before.

“That’s because we’re here to help, not make a mockery of things,” Eddie said.

When Daphne gave a startled gasp, Jessica put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and said, “He’s good at reading your thoughts too. And he’s right. After we put the kids to sleep, I have a proposal for you. Maybe you can help make things right.”

Nina D’Arcangela watched Paul, Mitch and Rusty as their frustration grew. Every time they attempted to start Paul’s introduction, something would go wrong. From the camera, to the lights, to a loss of audio, and now this: one of the legs of the tripod losing its ability to lock in place.

If they could get everything working, they were going to have a hell of a story to show the world. She could feel the pressure in the room building. To her, it was like being wedged in a crowded subway car.

They were here, of that there was no doubt. She’d never encountered a location so full of undead life.

Sorry to say, that little bitch Jessica was doing her job, whether she wanted to or not. When Nina had first come to the island, she’d sensed a raw energy rippling throughout it, but it was unfocused, a memory of a spark of light.

Not so now. That energy was building by the minute. It was manipulating objects in the material world, growing bolder.

Paul said, “Maybe we should just break everything down and start fresh tomorrow.”

Mitch’s hair had become unruly from running his fingers through it in frustration. “Just give us five more minutes to get our shit together.”

Rusty pulled a roll of duct tape from his pocket and placed the tripod on its side. Once he had the faulty leg at the right height, he taped over the joint. He then did the same to the other locked joints, just in case. “Duct tape, man’s best friend,” he said with a timid smile. Righting the tripod, he secured the camera to its base.

Mitch clapped his hands. “Barring the ceiling collapsing, let’s try it yet again.”

Nina pulled Paul aside. “If you hear any strange noises, you should stop and point it out to the camera.”

“Will I hear strange noises?”

“You might. The spirits are getting stronger. You mustn’t be afraid. If you want to separate yourself from all of the others, you can’t show fear.”

Paul’s Adam’s apple bobbed with a dry swallow. She could see his resolve was weak. She had to build him up somehow.

“There’s nothing they can do to you, Paul, especially with me around.” She smoothed his shirt, her hands lingering on his chest, letting him feel the warmth of her palms despite the near freezing temperature in the house. His muscles relaxed at her touch. She sensed his budding arousal.

Good. Lust could make a man move mountains.

Leaning close, she whispered in his ear, “I know you won’t let us down.” Her lips brushed against the outer folds of his ear as she pulled away.

His cheeks bloomed a bright, rose red.

Mitch and Rusty stood opposite them with their cameras poised.

“You ready?” Mitch asked.

Paul gave a quick nod and a thumbs-up.

Mitch’s fingers counted down to one. Looking serious, Paul said, “Hello, and welcome to Ormsby House, the site of the most gruesome murders in South Carolina’s history. It was an event so shocking, its details have been intentionally shrouded in mystery for decades. With complete access to the old Colonial house, the lone structure on the aptly named Ormsby Island in the Charleston Harbor, we will definitively prove that there is life after death. I’m joined by renowned psychic-medium, Ni—”

His mouth moved, but no sound came out. Paul’s eyes flashed wide in panic as he staggered against the fireplace.

Rusty nearly threw his camera down and rushed to his aid. “I think he’s choking!”

Nina grabbed Paul’s arm, following him as he sank to the floor, gasping for air.

Her heart froze when she saw the pulsing indentations in the flesh of his neck, the sign of an invisible hand choking him. While Rusty scooped his fingers into Paul’s mouth, searching for something, anything that could be blocking his airway, Nina roared a mental command, “Take your hands off him! So help me, I’ll banish you to a darkness that will consume your soul for eternity!”

Paul suddenly drew in a ragged lungful of air, sounding like a broken foghorn.

The andiron stand on the other side of the fireplace toppled over with a resounding crash. Footsteps pounded above them as everyone was jolted by the brief cacophony.

“Are you okay?” Rusty asked Paul, helping him into a comfortable sitting position.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Paul replied shakily.

Nina looked to Mitch, who hadn’t moved from behind his camera. He flashed her an okay sign, nodding at the camera.

That’s a hell of a start, Nina thought, already wondering how many seasons they could sign on for when they made their pitch.