Текст книги "Island of the Forbidden "

Автор книги: Hunter Shea

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Nina leaned against a closed door, an odd smirk on her face. She said, “You’re worrying for nothing. I can feel them. They’re fine.”

Tobe spread his arms wide, his smile even wider. “See, even Nina says they’re all right. Now can we all please calm down?”

Paul didn’t necessarily have the same trust in Nina’s preternatural abilities as Tobe. But there was something in his eyes that warned him against delaying things any further.

“I hope you’re right,” Paul said. He noticed Rusty’s disgust as he shook his head and walked down the hall.

You better be right, he thought. What’s the sense of resurrecting the family’s finances if something were to happen to Alice and Jason? He stood on the X taped to the floor, waiting for Mitch to give him the thumbs up.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Eddie and Jessica ran down the path to the docks. Midway through, he pointed into the brush.

“They’re in the clearing,” he said. “I can practically see them in my mind.”

Jessica crouched down, pulling aside thick branches, searching for the way in. The little passageway they had all gone through just the day before was choked with inflexible flora. “Are you frigging kidding me?” she huffed, searching for a way in.

Staring at the intertwining branches, Eddie knew this was no accident of nature. The Last Kids, maybe all of the EB children, had done this. They wanted to keep the adults out.

Or Jason and Alice in.

“Let me try,” he said. He’d been feeling his telekinetic oats lately. It was the one ability that he felt most proud of. He’d grown up a fan of the X-Men comics, and always assumed he was a real-life mutant. TK power was his entrance to the X-Men, should they ever come to life. He already had a superhero name picked out for himself—Kinetico. It was lame, but it was the best he was able to come up with when he was a kid.

Jessica stepped back. The bushes and trees chittered as he tried to force a path wide open. Leaves cascaded to the damp floor, but he couldn’t get them to break.

“Hold on,” Jessica said, running back to the house.

Eddie tried until his head began to pound and the periphery of his vision darkened. It felt like an ever-expanding bubble was about to burst in his brain when Jessica returned carrying a sickle.

“I saw this by the back patio. Sometimes brute force trumps mind power.”

A wicked gleam of determination flashed in her eyes as she hacked away at the underbrush, grunting with each blow. The vegetation gave way under the sickle’s singing arc. Jessica slashed, back and forth, up and down, carving her way through to the clearing. At one point, Eddie asked if she’d like him to take over for a bit. The muscles of her arms must surely be burning.

“I’ve got it,” she said, focused on the way forward.

He had to keep a good distance between them, unless he wanted the point of the sickle in his eye or arms. Jessica was covered with splintered wood, leaves and gnarled twigs.

“I see them!” she shouted, hammering the final obstacle with renewed fervor.

Jason and Alice lay in the center of the clearing, unconscious.

Jessica dropped the sickle, her body coiling, ready to run to them.

Eddie lashed out, managing to grab hold of her shirt collar. “Wait,” he said.

“Wait? Are you crazy?”

She made a fist as if to cold-cock him should he make the mistake of holding her back one more second.

“I’ll get them,” Eddie said. “There’s something else going on here.”

“What? Tell me.”

Eddie stared at the horde of EBs that had backed away from the children the moment Jessica broke through the brush. They formed a deep semi-circle around Jason and Alice, a still wall of silent expectation.

What did you do to them? Eddie asked psychically.

They replied with an unsettling silence.

Why did you bring them here? And why did you try to keep us away? Come on, answer me.

The reply came as a soft whisper that tickled the center of his brain. “We had to make them see.”

It didn’t make sense to Eddie, but when he pressed them for more, they refused to answer.

“Now I know where all of the EBs have been,” he said, his gaze locked on the spirit children.

“We have to get Alice and Jason.”

Jessica stepped around him, sprinting to the unconscious kids. Eddie jogged behind her.

She lifted their heads onto her lap. Alice’s hair was a tangled mess. Jason looked as if he’d been through a wind tunnel. “Alice, Jason, are you all right? Can you hear me?” Her thumbs stroked their cheeks, hoping they would respond to her touch.

The EBs pulled into one another, the edges of the semi-circle contracting.

“Are they all right?” Eddie asked, tensing, trying to decipher what the EBs were up to. He’d never felt so disconnected from the spiritual realm. He felt like a helpless voyeur. Their collective strength had formed an impenetrable wall he somehow had to bust through.

Alice’s eyes fluttered open. “Ms. Backman?”

“Yes, Alice, it’s me. Are you hurt?” The words poured from her breathlessly as she pulled the little girl to her breast.

“I don’t think so. I’m so tired.”

Jessica checked her head, feeling for any bumps.

The EBs coalesced into a blinding ball of light so intense, so pure, Eddie could feel it burn the back of his eyes.

“Ms. Backman?” Jason croaked. He pushed himself into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes. “What happened?”

An electric charge burst from the EBs, scorching the ground at Eddie’s feet. Alice squealed.

“What was that?” Jessica shouted, holding the kids tight.

Eddie shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen that before. It’s like…spirit lightning. Holy cow.” Looking down at his arms, he saw all of the hairs standing pin straight. The back of his scalp tingled.

“Jess, you have to get the kids out of here,” he said as calmly as he could muster.

She didn’t need to be told twice. She scooped one under each arm and ran as fast as she could to the path she’d hacked open.

Eddie felt the EBs surging.

What are you doing? You’ll hurt them!

His telepathic words fell into a dark vortex of palpable indifference.

“The bad man hurt us!” the EBs screamed.

In that instant, Eddie felt their pain, their anger, their fear. It was like a laser momentarily piercing the center of his being.

They can’t control it.

Who is the bad man?

His brain seared with the morphing image of a man. It came and went so fast, he couldn’t retain any of the man’s features. He went from young to old and liver-spotted in a spark’s flash. There was something familiar about him, especially when he was in younger form.

The air in the clearing filled with the scent of burning wires. Any second now, those EBs were going to take another shot, either at him or Jess and the kids. He sensed unfocused confusion and anger coming from the EBs. It was as if they were all throwing a tempter tantrum at the same time. There was no history to fall back on to know if it would have a physical effect, psychic, or none at all.

I don’t want to find out, Eddie thought.

He pulled all of his senses inward, as he would grab his family into a storm cellar before a tornado. His flesh prickled as he invoked an image of what he planned to do to stop them. It was going to take everything he had, but there wasn’t any time to weigh the pros and cons. If there was any chance they were going to direct their energy towards Jess, Alice and Jason, he had to do it, no matter the personal consequences.

Last chance, kids. Stop now.

His chest hummed as if a freight train was fast approaching.

No!

A brilliant flash of sharp, concentrated radiance exploded from the EB collective.

Eddie’s conjured psychic wall burst into being, absorbing the blow and caroming back to its source. It hit the EBs like a guided missile.

He thought he heard Jessica shout his name. He felt his body lift into the air, his feet no longer in touch with terra firma.

Stay numb, stay numb, stay numb.

Tumbling across the clearing, the physical pain pulled him to the here and now so he felt every bump, every burn, every scrape. He stopped within the entrance to the passageway exit like a nine-ball shot into a corner pocket. Something tugged at his collar, constricting it around his throat. He heard voices but couldn’t decipher the words. As his vision came back into focus, he watched the EBs separate from their collected mass, the wraith children turning their backs to him and disappearing into the darkening gaps between the trees.

A crashing wave of vertigo swept over Nina. She grasped for the nearest solid holding to keep from falling. The great room had grown dark, splotches of dying light on the wall creating a kaleidoscope that made her head spin even more.

“Are you all right?” Paul asked.

Knowing the cameras were rolling, she collected herself, careful to make the most of the moment. Holding a hand to her head, she rolled her neck and said, “I can feel the children, Paul. They’re in the house now. So many of them. All that pain and suffering they’ve been carrying with them for twenty years.” Reaching within the folds of her loose and layered blouse, she pinched a chunk of flesh on her wrist between two sharp nails. The tears came right on cue.

Paul played along as if they’d rehearsed it. “By the children, do you mean the ones that were found burned to death by the Charleston police?”

Nina paused to catch her breath. “Yes,” she whimpered.

In fact, she wasn’t lying. She did feel a strong spirit presence enter Ormsby House. She couldn’t discern how many or distinct personalities, but that was never one of her gifts. Sure, sometimes an earthbound spirit would come to her, and in those instances she would form a dialogue, a bond, as strong as if she were speaking to the living. Out here, it was different. From the moment she’d accepted the Harpers’ invitation, it was impossible not to sense the young souls that still clung to the island. But they’d been so silent, as if they were either oblivious to or deliberately avoiding her.

They were here now, that was a certainty. And as usual, they watched them with mute interest.

“Can you see them?” Paul asked, looking absolutely terrified. Rusty was a bit waxen himself.

She looked over his shoulder and pointed. “Yes. There are three girls standing outside the library doors. They’re very young, wearing shorts and pink and yellow T-shirts.” In fact, she could see nothing.

Paul said, “Do you think you could get them to speak to us?” He turned on an EMF meter and placed it on a table, along with a handheld audio recorder and a curved metal hanger with a small, hanging replica of the Liberty Bell, crack and all. “We don’t want to frighten you. We only want to talk. If you want, you can come over to this table and let us know you’re here by either making the needle move on that black box, or by talking into the silver recorder in the middle or even by making the bell ring.”

Nina had to bite her lip to keep from laughing as she watched Paul talk to an empty doorway with all the tenderness he normally reserved for dealing with his niece and nephew. She wondered how all those supposed ghost hunters managed to talk to thin air with such sincerity, all without cracking even the tiniest smile at the absurdity of it all.

They waited a moment to see if anything would happen. Tobe stood behind the cameramen, hands clasped together, eyes glued to the table.

Nina said, “I know it’s been a long time since anyone talked to you. It must get very lonely out here. I’d like to help you, but I need you to show everyone that you’re here with us.”

A gust of wind rattled one of the great room’s windows. Rusty whirled to film the window. He was the jumpiest of them all and there was still a long way to go.

Ting-ting-ting.

Paul gasped as the bell gently rocked back and forth for several seconds.

“Do you think it’s the wind?” he asked.

Nina shook her head. “Very good, girls. Can you do that again so no one can doubt it’s you?”

It seemed as if everyone in the room held their breath. She wondered who exactly was ringing the bell. Maybe it was the wind. Or maybe it was one of the actual children that spent their time hiding from here. Either way, she had to work with it.

Ting-ting.

“Very good. Thank you. I’d like to ask you some questions. You can ring the bell once for yes and twice for no. Do you understand?”

Ting.

“The EMF just spiked,” Paul said. By the time Nina looked, the needle had gone back down. “Mitch, hand me one of those K2 meters.” Mitch gave his camera to Tobe, fishing one of the meters designed for electricians out of his kit bag.

Nina continued, “Are you here because you want to be here?”

There was a long pause, then two chimes of the bell.

“Are there more than three of you?”

Ting.

“More than ten?”

Ting.

“Fifteen?”

Ting.

“Twenty?”

Nina knew this was television gold. For her own sake, she’d never come across so many active spirits in one place before. That, of course, was if the spirits ringing the bell were being truthful. You can trust the dead as much as the living, which means not at all, she thought.

The bell remained silent and still.

Paul said, “Is it less than twenty?”

A quick ting-ting.

He looked to Nina for help. Something long and dark slunk around the corner of the room, slipping unnoticed behind Tobe and Mitch.

Nina’s chest felt weighted down. The sensation of fingers pressing on each knob of her spine made her shiver, hoping to shake the phantom digits off.

The bell blared to life, swaying madly.

Ting-ting-ting-ting-ting-ting-ting-ting-ting-ting-ting!

The EMF meter whined like a deaf cat, the needle pinned to the end of the dial. Multicolored lights on the K2 meter flashed and blinked, then stayed on.

“What the hell?” Rusty said, backing into a wall.

Mitch moved in for a tighter shot of the table. The base of the bell began to wobble. The clanging of the bell increased in intensity, the volume far exceeding what the little souvenir was capable of producing.

Nina wanted to shout for them to stop ringing the bell, but the words wouldn’t come. It felt as though her mouth and chest had been filled with damp cotton.

Ting-ting-ting-ting!

Suddenly, the bell flew from the table, smashing into the empty fireplace. The EMF meter went in the opposite direction, shattering a window. The K2 meter and audio recorder were swept off the table, clattering to the floor.

“Holy shit!” one of the men shouted.

The table flipped end over end, bludgeoning Paul’s shin. He flopped to the floor, holding his leg. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The heavy groan of timber being pressed to the breaking point reverberated throughout the old house. Nina looked up, expecting to see the beams of the ceiling come crashing down on top of them.

“Stop it now!” Nina shouted. One hand wavered over her head, a poorly conceived notion of protection should the room collapse.

Every chair in the breakfast room slid away from the table at once, a terrifying squeal of wood on wood.

“We have to get out of here,” Rusty said, already heading for the front door.

“Tobe, help me up,” Paul moaned.

The entire house shuddered. Nina lost her balance, slamming her shoulder into Mitch’s camera, who yelped in pain as it bashed into his face. Something crashed in the kitchen.

“The plates!” Rusty yelled, pointing. “They’re flying out of the cabinet.”

What the hell is going on here? Nina’s brain felt two sizes too big for her skull. Pressure within met with pressure from without. She prayed she’d black out before it got any worse.

Hell had broken loose, and she had no idea how to stop it.

“Jason! Alice!” Daphne cried.

Jessica, winded from carrying the children, shouted back, “Over here! Just follow my voice.”

Daphne stood waiting outside the pathway, her cheeks streaked with tears. Jessica dropped to her knees, letting the kids down gently. They slowly gathered themselves, walking calmly into their mother’s waiting arms. Eddie stumbled behind her. His clothes were ripped in more places than she could count. Any exposed skin was camouflaged with dirt and blood. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, his face a mask of agony.

“We have to get you back to the house and clean you up,” Jessica said.

He waved her off. “I’ll be all right. My head’s already starting to feel better. I feel the same way I did when I tried to jump my bike over Mr. Arthur’s car in seventh grade. That tumble back there felt awful familiar.” He tried to laugh but it came out as a stuttering cough.

She slipped an arm around his waist. A momentary flare-up of lightheadedness threatened to drop her back down to her knees but she fought it off. The kids had been a pair of dead weights. Carrying them had been no easy feat.

“Where did you find them?” Daphne said between kisses. The woman before them was a totally different person from the cool, calculating heiress they’d met just two days earlier.

Places like this change people, but it’s usually subtle and over time, Jessica thought. I think Eddie and I have become a kind of accelerant, not to mention Alice and Jason. We have to get out of here.

Jessica said, “Luckily, they showed Eddie and me a little hiding place yesterday. I don’t think they’re hurt.”

Daphne inspected them from head to toe in the dusky light. The kids remained eerily silent. Jessica assumed they were in shock. She had no idea what they encountered in the clearing, but it wasn’t good. What would turn the EB children against them?

Their mother gasped when she saw the state Eddie was in. “Oh my God, what happened to you?”

“I kinda took a fall. Nothing broken. I do want to change out of these clothes, though.”

It was slow going back to the house. At one point, Alice looked back at Jessica, her hand firmly in her mother’s. Her clear, bright eyes harbored something gray and secret, the eyes of a child that had seen something not fit for an adult.

“Something’s up with them,” Jessica whispered to Eddie.

“I can see it too,” he said. “I’ll try probing a little after I’ve gotten my bearings back. To me, it’s like they’ve been wiped clean.”

“If that’s true, where did they go?”

The crash of glass gave them all a start as something sailed through one of the front windows.

“You all right if I let you go?” Jessica asked.

“I’ll be fine. Go.”

Daphne said, “Kids, I want you to stay with Eddie. I’ll be right back.”

Paul’s curses spilled into the front yard. It sounded like a mosh pit had broken out inside the house.

“I’ll go in first,” Jessica said to Daphne.

The glass knob turned in Jessica’s hand the moment she touched it and was yanked from her grasp. The door flew open. Rusty stood poised to run, shouting when he saw Jessica in his way.

“It’s all gone to shit,” he said, breathless.

Jessica pushed past him.

The mayhem stopped. Whatever forces were at work laying waste to the house turned off as quickly as flipping a light switch.

Tobe was crouched over Paul, who was in obvious pain. Mitch was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, rubbing an eye that looked like it would have one hell of a shiner.

Nina crouched in a corner, her hands clasped over her ears like a frightened child on the Fourth of July.

The sound of a glass rolling off a table and splintering on the floor broke the silence.

Jessica stood over the psychic.

“Too much to handle?”

Nina uncovered her ears, a tremor running through her hands. “I think they’re still here.”

“They’re always here,” Jessica said. “And now it’s too late to just walk away. We’re going to have to finish what you started.”

She left the house to get Eddie and the kids.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Renae Rudd was shutting down her computer when the front door chime buzzed. She heard the agency’s administrative assistant, Kathy, talking to a man. It was almost five. She’d promised Steve grilled marinated steaks, her garlic and herb mashed potatoes and fresh green beans she’d picked from her garden. Stevie Junior was working at Taco Bell tonight, so they had the house all to themselves. She prayed Kathy would send the man to Phil or Dottie. They still had another hour to go.

“Sure, you can talk to Renae,” she heard Kathy say to the man.

Dammit.

This was the one time she didn’t want the honor of being agent of the month. Aside from a cash bonus and several free lunches, the other perk was getting first crack at new potential buyers. Normally, that was just fine with her.

She could practically smell those steaks.

Renae shuffled her briefcase under her desk and did her best to put on her game face.

A slight, older man walked into her office. His wiry, gray hair was in need of a brush, and possibly some shampoo and water. He had beautiful, cobalt eyes, but she could see instantly that there was something strange at work behind them.

She stood up to meet him. Unless he was some eccentric with a stash of money, she didn’t see a sale in this one.

“Are you the one that sold the Ormsby House?” he asked, casting aside all formalities.

“Excuse me?”

“The house on Ormsby Island. Are you, or are you not, the woman who sold it.”

Uh-oh, we have a crazy. Good thing Phil is still in the office.

She pasted on a smile. “I’m sorry, if you were interested in the island and the house, it was sold a little over a month ago.”

“I don’t want the damn island,” he hissed. His eyes flicked to the doorway. He’d spoken low enough not to attract any attention. “I need to know who you sold it to.”

Renae remained standing. She didn’t want the man to have any advantage over her. She had to find a way to calmly get him out of the office.

“Unfortunately, I can’t give out that information,” she said. “I have to respect the privacy of the new owners.”

“You shouldn’t have sold it. You like damning people to hell? Sometimes, there are more important things than a fucking commission.”

This time, he did raise his voice. Renae spied Kathy as she peeked into the office. She hoped the girl was smart enough to get burly Phil.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Are you a relative of the previous owner?”

He wagged a gnarled finger at her. “I know who you are. You should have been smarter than that. You’re not some outsider. You know all about that place. Ormsby Island should have been burned and demolished. No one would listen to me. So it sat there, waiting for some greedy bitch to pawn it off to someone else.”

That got her blood boiling. The b-word had always been a trigger for her anger.

“Now look here, sir, I don’t need to take that kind of nonsense from you. Despite what you said, you don’t know me, and I’d appreciate it if you got out of my office.”

The man began walking in a tight circle, growing more and more hysterical. “I saw it! I saw it with my own eyes! That place is a tomb. A giant tomb. You don’t send people to live in a tomb. Especially one where the dead aren’t dead. Fucking morons. Goddamn, fucking, ass-eating morons!”

Phil’s tall and wide girth filled her doorframe.

“Okay pal, time to go,” Phil said, reaching out for the man’s arm.

“Don’t you touch me!”

Kathy and Dottie stood behind Phil.

“Kathy, call the police,” Renae said.

“The police?” the man cried. “You think the police are a threat?” He gave a short, frantic laugh.

“We don’t need the police if you’ll just come with me,” Phil said.

Dottie brushed the big man aside. “Peter?” she said.

The older man stopped his pacing, his entire demeanor relaxing in an instant.

“Peter, we all need you to calm down. Okay? I’ll even get you a cup of coffee if you want.”

He looked at her with pleading eyes. “She shouldn’t have done it. You know that. She shouldn’t have done it.”

Holding his hand, Dottie walked him out of Renae’s office. “It’s all right Peter. It’s all right. Everyone’s fine.”

Renae, Phil and Kathy watched her pour the man a cup of coffee, talk quietly for a minute or so and walk him out the door.

“What the heck just happened?” Renae said.

Kathy replied, “I have a new nickname for Dottie. She’s now the Crazy Whisperer.”

“You okay?” Phil asked.

Renae nodded. “I’m fine. What a way to end the day, huh?”

When Dottie returned, Renae waved her into her office. “You know that guy? I thought he was going to attack me.”

Dottie gave her a sad smile. “That was Peter Montgomery. He’s harmless. I hadn’t seen him in about ten years. Time has not been kind to the man. Poor soul.”

Renae waited for her to expand on the idea that a lunatic was a poor soul.

“We went to high school together. He was always a bright guy. We even worked on the school newspaper. There was a time I’m pretty sure he liked me, but I guess he never got the courage to ask me out. I would have said yes.” Dottie sat down, her gaze lingering on something in her past.

“What happened to him?”

Dottie sighed. “He landed his dream job as a reporter for the Charleston Journal News right out of high school. We kind of lost touch after graduation, but I read everything he wrote. I was so proud of him.

“When the massacre at Ormsby Island happened, the story was given to one of the more veteran reporters.” She said this in a whisper, as if speaking about what had happened over two decades ago could make it happen all over again. “I heard that Peter went to the island himself, after all of the police and press left. I guess he wanted to uncover something the others had missed. I don’t know what he found, but when he returned, he was never the same again. Whatever he saw out there broke his mind clear in half. He lost his job, his fiancé, his car, everything. I hear he’s spent most of his time in and out of institutions.”

Ranea sat back in her chair. “Wow.”

Shaking her head, Dottie said, “Yeah, wow. Look, I’m happy that you managed to sell what we all considered the unsellable. But I know something is very wrong with that island. It destroyed everyone who lived there. And it destroyed Peter. He just didn’t want the same thing to happen to someone else. Unfortunately, he’s no longer able to convey his emotions the way he used to. He won’t come back. I made him promise me. You go on home and forget this ever happened. Maybe we’re all wrong and whatever badness that lived on the island is gone. No news is good news, right?”

Dottie left and Renae jammed some papers in her briefcase.

Maybe we’re all wrong, Dottie had said.

Renae had never put much credence in the whole Ormsby Island mystique. She had to admit the place was as queer as a three dollar bill, but part of that was most likely all of her preconceived notions coming to the fore.

“No news is good news,” she muttered, getting into her car.

The phrase played in a loop in her head all through dinner and even while she made love to her husband in the kitchen of all places.

Lying in bed, she broke the loop with one simple thought.

What if it isn’t?