The Haunting at Morgan's Rock

by M. L. Bullock

  “You have to answer it, Alex. Make it stop!” she screamed as she leaned against the wall behind her. I grimaced as I tapped on the phone and hit the speaker button.

  We’re here. Keep going. Let us out.

  That wasn’t the voice of anyone living; it was a woman’s voice, gurgling and strange. “Who is this?” I demanded, my eyes never leaving Megan’s.

  Let us out. Help us, Al-ex.

  With a whimper of fear or frustration, I threw the phone down the hall. To hell with the damn phone! I grabbed Megan’s hand and practically dragged her toward the staircase. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” I promised her—and myself. My heart and brain weren’t in sync at all.

  “Please, Alex. I can’t run this fast.” Megan snatched her hand away and gripped the handrail with both hands. “Oh God, not again. Help me.”

  “I’m so sorry, Megan,” I apologized as I guided her step by step down the remainder of the staircase. We managed the landing and the next staircase, and at least the phones had stopped ringing. And the air down here felt different. It wasn’t frenetic and out of whack.

  Megan’s face was the picture of agony. “My back hurts. I have to lie down.”

  “We should go back to the hospital. I think that’s what we should do.”

  “Maybe, but right now I need to lie down. That’s all.” She sobbed as she clutched my hand. “That’s all I need. Just some rest.”

  All the phones ringing. Me tearing down the wall for no apparent reason. The weird voice on the phone. Ghosts of my past returning to haunt us.

  I helped her get into bed and propped her feet up. My heart was not beating like a scared rabbit now, but I was still on high alert. What had I done? What if my temporary loss of sanity caused Megan to lose our baby? I would never forgive myself. Neither would she. “Is there any…”

  “I’m not bleeding, but my back hurts.”

  “I wasn’t asking you that. Is there anything else I can do? You shouldn’t have climbed those stairs, Megan.”

  “I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t decided to take a wall down,” she snapped back. I had no witty comeback. She was right, of course, but I couldn’t explain it to her. How could I? I temporarily lost my mind, sweetheart. The ghosts wanted out of the wall.

  “What is happening to us, Alex?” I dragged the vanity table chair closer to the bedside and sat down. “I know about Lucy,” she added as I smoothed her blanket and rested my hands on her stomach.

  “There is nothing to know. She showed up on this trip, but I sure as hell didn’t bring her. And when you asked if I was going alone, I didn’t know she was going to invite herself.” I moved my hands and waited to hear what else she had to say. “I don’t know what possessed her, Megan. She’s never come on to me before. Never. I swear it.”

  “She picked up the phone when I called you. Did she tell you that?”

  “Yes, but only after we were back in Pensacola. I tried to call you at least a dozen times before that. I knew something was wrong—you weren’t answering the phone, but I had no idea that the baby was in danger. Please, Megan. You have to believe me.”

  “I believe you,” she said as she turned on her side, her back toward me. “I have to rest, Alex. Please, unplug the phones.”

  I hesitated. The last thing I wanted to do was leave her side. She wasn’t in any shape to be left alone, but I couldn’t argue with her. Not now. Not after all the craziness.

  I walked out of the room and left her in peace.

  Chapter Ten—Sylvia

  “Sylvia, you really should rest, my friend. You’re not invincible, you know. I’m not either, of course. We’re not as young as we used to be. You did just break your wrist, and that pain medicine will make anyone loopy,” Loretta warned me as she helped me with my seatbelt. She had a point, even though I was a good ten years older than she was. I wasn’t as young as I used to be, but I was also wiser, presumably. At least that’s what folks said about old people.

  I squinted at her. “I didn’t take any pain medicine, and I will get some rest, but this is a real emergency. You called me, remember? You gave Megan my phone number, and you were right. There is a problem. The dead gather around in that house, and she’s in danger. If you don’t drive me to Morgan’s Rock, I’ll have to call a taxi.” I hated to be a pain in the ass, but these were dire circumstances. The direst. I didn’t tell Loretta what I had seen in the road on my way to Megan’s the other night, why my car spun out of control. About the little boy that ran in front of me, his frightened dark eyes, the sudden crack of thunder and the dangerously close pop of lightning. I could barely believe it all myself. The spiritual tension increased by the minute—I sensed it with every fiber of my being. To make the situation worse, my most faithful spirit guide, Freya, screeched incoherently in my ear. Freya was against the idea of going to Morgan’s Rock, but my heart tugged me in the opposite direction of her wisdom. I felt a definitive heaviness and could smell death hovering near. No. I had not shared any of this with Loretta.

  “Megan left the hospital a while ago, so she should be home by now. But I’m not sure she’s up for company quite yet. Maybe we should call first,” she suggested as she adjusted the rearview mirror and then put the car in gear. I watched in horror as a yellow balloon bounced across the hood of the car. A boy went running after it, but Loretta didn’t appear to see him at all, and the car was rolling forward.

  “Watch out!” I clutched her arm.

  Loretta took her hand off the gearshift and stomped on the brake. Thank goodness I was wearing a seatbelt. “What? What is it?” she yelped at me. How could she have missed the little boy? The same child I’d seen dart in front of my vehicle yesterday. Why was he here?

  “That boy. You didn’t see him?” I craned my neck around to find the child, but there was no one there, just cars in the hospital parking lot. There were people walking a few rows over, and I could see an older couple chatting, but no boy and no balloon.

  “I don’t see anyone, Sylvia. Are you sure you didn’t take any pain medicine?” She smiled patiently and began to pull out of the parking lot.

  “Yes, I’m sure,” I said, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was horribly wrong. He had been here—I had not imagined it. Why would I dream up a boy chasing a balloon?

  Leave it be for now.

  “No, Freya,” I murmured. Thankfully, Loretta ignored me. I peeked at the side mirror but didn’t see the boy again. That boy was a ghost, and he was somehow tied to Morgan’s Rock. Or Megan. Or someone. I caught my breath at the sudden realization that the dead, the dead associated with Morgan’s Rock, were trying to kill me. Or at least get my attention. Yes, the spiritual world was trying to connect with me—all except Freya, who was gone again. No more screeching and whining. My ancestor and guide was so moody lately, but then again, I was being a bit stubborn about all this. Maybe I should slow down. Yes, I needed to do that. I needed to look deeper and see what was really happening, and I could only do that when I was alone. My gift was stronger when I could actually access the target, when I could walk around the location, but looking from a distance might be the way to go. For now.

  “Okay, Loretta. I will go home, but I have to go to Morgan’s Rock tomorrow. Megan is in danger, and so is her child.”

  Loretta drove out of the parking lot, and I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes. This whole experience had been terrifying. I’d had a few accidents during my long life, but this one had surprised me. Of course, it could certainly have been much worse. Before I closed my eyes good, we were in my driveway. Until this drive, I had no idea how tired I was. I felt drained. Really drained.

  “Here we are, Sylvia. I’ll help you get inside, dear.”

  “I’m not so old that you have to call me ‘dear,’ Loretta.”

  “Sorry,” she said with a sigh as she got out of the car and walked to the side door.

  That’s right, Sylvia. Be a crotchety old lady to the few friends you have. That will make yo
ur life so much better.

  I pushed the door open as best I could with my leg. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m as stubborn as an old mule, Loretta. I guess the accident shook me up more than I realized. I don’t know what I would have done without your help. If you could help me find my keys, I would be grateful.” I’d been digging around my purse with my good hand but had not been successful. With a kind smile, she pulled out my keys and waited as I managed to get out of the car with one hand. I was grateful for her continued patience.

  “I can make it from here. I can’t thank you enough, Loretta. It’s so wonderful to have a friend. A living friend.” We hugged and said our goodbyes. I slid the key in the lock and immediately went inside and locked the door. I dropped my keys and purse on the kitchen counter and pondered putting the kettle on but decided against it. I had no doubt I would take a nap. A long nap.

  No sense in tempting fate, Sylvia. You’ll burn the house down if you leave that kettle on while you doze off.

  I had to do one more thing first. I rummaged through the pile of papers on the counter and found the phone number I needed, then quickly dialed and waited for someone to pick up.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi. Mr. Wagner? This is Sylvia Finnegan. I’m a friend of Loretta Bradley’s. She referred your wife, Megan, to me. I was hoping I could speak with her.”

  There was a brief pause, and then the man cleared his throat. “My wife is resting right now. She’s just come home from the hospital. Are you calling about the housekeeper position?”

  “No. I’m not calling for that. I am calling about the activity in your home. I was sure your wife would have mentioned me to you. I am a medium—Loretta Bradley referred me. I was scheduled to visit your home yesterday, but I had an accident. I would like to reschedule my visit for tomorrow or as soon as possible.” There were so many things I wanted to say to Mr. Wagner—warnings, dire warnings—but I could sense that he wasn’t the kind of man who would openly admit to seeing ghosts in his house. Although I was sure he was seeing them. That little boy, that boy wanted his attention. He wanted his help.

  And then it all made sense.

  This haunting wasn’t centered on Megan Wagner. The ghosts that were gathering weren’t after Megan, not directly. Her husband was the target. As I waited for his reply, I noticed the magnetic letters on my refrigerator. Sometimes Freya enjoyed moving them about; she liked them, so I kept them there. It had been years since any children had played with them. Once upon a time, the neighbor’s children practiced their spelling with them. But that had been years ago, and they’d all moved away now. Now they were Freya’s toys. I always enjoyed her attempts at communicating with me, but she wasn’t that great of a speller. She sometimes flipped letters, and very rarely was she able to create a whole sentence. However, this message was abundantly clear.

  ME DIE YOU 2

  I didn’t give Mr. Wagner time to put me off. I had to tell him what I’d seen, who I’d seen. “Mr. Wagner, I know you don’t know me, but I only want to help your family. There’s a boy, he’s got dark hair, dark eyes, and he’s often playing with a balloon. It’s yellow. Listen, I think you’re in danger. Not necessarily from the boy, but I can’t be sure…”

  “What did you say? What did Megan tell you?” His irritated tone assured me that he wasn’t open to this conversation. Not by a long shot.

  “Nothing. We’ve barely spoken, but I know what I saw. Please, Mr. Wagner. Before you write me off as a loon, hear me out. Please. Tomorrow? About noontime? I can come to you.”

  To my relief, he didn’t hang up on me. “I can’t promise that Megan will be up to chatting, but I will hear you out. Twelve o’clock, right? You know how to get here?”

  “Yes, I do. I am a local. Thank you so much. Goodbye, Mr. Wagner. I will see you tomorrow.”

  I hung up the phone, walked to the refrigerator and touched the magnetic letters with my shaking fingers.

  ME DIE YOU 2

  Freya, what do you mean?

  She didn’t answer, and I didn’t linger. I heaved myself into my easy chair and propped up my arm, but sleep wouldn’t come. It would eventually, but my mind was flooded with images of faces. Some were pale and pleading. Others were angry. A few were bloody.

  Too many ghosts. Too many. Everyone out. Out now.

  Not long after, I heard the front door handle jiggle. I didn’t bother getting up. It wasn’t anyone living. Just the last of the unhappy dead leaving my home. At last, they were gone, but they wouldn’t stay gone forever. I would have to do barrier work in the morning or face the consequences. Tomorrow I would meet the dead at Morgan’s Rock. Tomorrow I would see the full truth of the Wagners’ situation.

  I listened to the ocean roaring until at last I fell asleep.

  Chapter Eleven—Alex

  Easing the door open quietly, I peeked inside the bedroom. Megan’s sleeping frame rose up and down softly and evenly. She was resting comfortably. No nightmares. No pain. That boded well. She’d slept through the night, then we chatted a little while this morning but not about anything important. And that was the goal, to take her mind off the horrible situation we found ourselves in. The bedroom door closed with a click, and I picked up the tray from the side table and took it back to the kitchen. Just soup and a half-sandwich. My wife had become the pickiest of eaters during her pregnancy, but it was important that she kept up her strength.

  After the phone call I’d had last night, I wanted to ply her with questions, ask her about this Sylvia person, but there would be time for that later. Her health was the most important thing, right?

  I would let her rest for now, but she would have to eat more before bedtime. I’d have to eat too, but that would have to wait because I had to tend to this matter. Right away. I wrapped both the soup and sandwich and stashed them back in the refrigerator. Such a normal thing to do, serving up food, Alexander. As if you had never been a hammer-wielding maniac. My hands shook as I closed the refrigerator.

  But I heard the elevator, and I heard Julie’s voice.

  Help me, Alex.

  Surely, I’d been hallucinating—seeing what I wanted to see. Megan and her mention of Julie and Zachary had triggered the whole thing.

  Yes, that had to be it. I strongly disliked feeling out of control. I was always on top of things, always composed. Not a robot but always in control. But now I had to retrieve my phone. I couldn’t leave it upstairs like a wimp. I took a sip of water and put the glass in the sink. My mouth was still dry.

  Go get your phone, coward. Quit stalling.

  There was no noise in the house. No clacking of the antiquated elevator. No fading notes of an antique Victrola. Yes, I heard the music sometimes too, but I could not bring myself to tell Megan. I could see the question in her terrified eyes, her lips parted. Yes, I heard it, Megan, but it wouldn’t do for both of us to be hearing ghostly music. But I pretended I heard nothing, like I always did. It was easier that way. Better to have one crazy person in the house, not two. Not that I believed she was crazy. But what was the benefit to us both hearing it or talking about it? Best not to acknowledge it. That was the key, right? Don’t acknowledge the things you see out of the corner of your eye, or the shadows that pass beside you in the hall late at night when you go to the restroom. Eventually, they will all go away. Eventually. That phone, though. I had to go get it. My entire business was on that phone. I couldn’t just leave it there. I had contracts to negotiate, authors to keep happy, deals to be made. I shuddered at the memory of all those phones ringing at once and Julie’s raspy, gurgling voice.

  Don’t be a coward, Alexander. Go get your damn phone!

  As I heaved a sigh of frustration or something like it, my feet carried me to the staircase. You have to keep walking, moron. Keep walking. Two flights. It’s in the hallway where you left it.

  My thoughts weren’t usually this self-abusive, but after all that had happened, I didn’t think much of it. I walked up the first set of stairs and paused on the
landing. “I’m coming up,” I shouted to no one in particular. It just felt like the right thing to do. So much for not acknowledging it. Thank God nobody answered. I cleared the top step and could clearly see the phone in front of me right on the floor where I’d thrown it yesterday. I imagined that I heard music briefly, but no, it was only my fear playing games with me. The idea that an entity could be toying with me also crossed my mind, but I could not bring myself to truly believe it. It made the following silence even more ominous. I walked deeper into the Great Room, my feet sounding loud and heavy on the floor. It was easy to imagine a starlet sitting in here. Smoking, drinking, listening to music. Just as I wanted to do now. Yes, I did. I couldn’t deny it. Those had been happier times, hadn’t they?

  Get your head out of the clouds, Alex.

  Examining my phone, I held it up to the light and discerned a long crack on the screen. I pushed the home button, and the home screen pulled up easily. The battery was low, but the damn thing still had some juice to it. How many notifications did I have? The phone dinged at least a dozen times, and I had the horrible feeling that I was being watched. Especially now that I was causing such a ruckus. I shoved my phone in my pocket with every intention of immediately heading back downstairs, but I wasn’t alone. I could see the outline of a man with boxy shoulders in a blue suit just past the first doorway to the left of the Great Room. He didn’t move an inch, and I watched in horror as all the color leaked out of the image. He was no longer wearing a blue suit—his jacket and trousers were all black, as were his face and hands. God! What a horrible sight! How could the man fade before my eyes? Now he was all black—and he was moving, but not toward me. He slid back and into the open doorway.

  “I saw you!” I shouted in an accusatory voice. Even as I said it, I stepped back and toward the stairs. He didn’t respond other than to watch me; I could feel those eyes staring at me. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him. And he watched me from the safety of the shadows.