Haunted Hideout

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Haunted Hideout Page 13

by Michelle Dorey


  Jake’s eyes scanned ahead and his voice stilled. It was more of the same, the girl’s embarrassment, how much she liked Jimmy, blah, blah.

  Angela leaned forward and prodded the fire with the poker. “That father sounds like an asshole.”

  Mark gave her a sharp elbow, “Don’t say that too loud. He might hear you.” He looked over at the window and then behind him. “What do you think they’re doing? It’s been quiet for too long.”

  Lydia leaned over and patted her son’s knee. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. The book was meant to be read and that’s what we’re doing. With any luck when the girl’s story is known, the creepy stuff will end.”

  Jake watched them, and then his gaze locked with Angela’s. From the look in her eyes, she didn’t believe it either.

  There was no doubt in his mind what the “river rats” had been delivering. Alexandria Bay was close to the Canadian border, and back then there’d been a lot of smuggling of booze going on. The preacher was not only a closet drunk, he was part of the smuggling racket. What better cover than running a church and having a barn for storage? He could guess the next part, but still he flipped through the pages till he came to the last entry.

  September 6 1930

  Dear Diary, The first day back at school went really well. Rather than laugh at me, my chums felt sorry for the fiasco at the 4th of July picnic. And Jimmy wasn’t sore about getting chewed out by Daddy. If anything, he likes me even more.

  Things have gotten worse with Daddy if that’s even possible. He keeps watching me when he thinks I am not paying attention. And after last night, I know now why he yells and slurs his words.

  I was so hepped up about the first day back at school, I needed to get some salts to settle my stomach. When I went to the kitchen to get some, he was sitting at the table cupping a mug of something. He grabbed at me when I went by him and I could smell it. Liquor. He forced me to sit on his knee and he kept telling me to watch out for the boys at school, that they only wanted one thing off a pretty girl like me.

  Thank goodness Mom came in from the privy! It made my skin crawl the way he looked at me and the stink of him, his hands pawing my thigh.

  When I left I could hear him cussing and yelling at Mom. Even Jeremiah was scared and came into my room for a bit.

  I can’t wait to get out of this house and marry Jimmy at the end of the school year. I know he’s going to ask me.

  He could see it in his mind, how the old man had gone off the deep end, not even trying to hide his drunken state. Even the girl, Nancy, had sensed something seriously wrong that night. He shuddered. Anything incestuous and predatory was so repugnant. And for the sickness to end in such violence. The poor girl, her brother and mom. The old man could burn in hell; he deserved to.

  Lydia cleared her throat, looking down at her lap, “That was the last entry wasn’t it?”

  Jake nodded and put the book down on the floor. “Yeah…”

  Angela’s eyes were wide. “Because after that, her father killed her.”

  Jake nodded. “Yeah.”

  Mark’s head swiveled around the room, looking up to the ceiling. “And..he’s still here…”

  “Yeah.”

  THIRTY

  Lydia

  LYDIA FINISHED HER WINE and set the glass on the floor. For the last hour, things had been quiet. Angela could barely keep her eyes open, and Mark was curled up at the end of the sofa sleeping.

  She looked over at Jake. He looked like hell. Hopefully, she didn’t look as ragged. “I’ll take the first watch if you want to catch forty winks.”

  He took a deep breath and then got up to throw another log on the fire. “Yeah.” He looked at the kids and sat down again, stretching his legs out in front, resting his back against the sofa. “If you’re sure?”

  She nodded. “If it gets too much and I start to nod off, I’ll wake you.” The kids were first and foremost. Just get through the next four hours and get the hell out of there.

  She stared at the flames of the log burning. It was mesmerizing how the flames licked at the edges of the log, curling around the sides before fading out. Her head jerked backward with a start and she gave it a shake. Watching a fireplace was a sure way to nod off. She sat straighter and took a deep breath to perk up. Just four hours.

  She turned her gaze from the fireplace and looked over the living room and began to examine the layout with her sales agent brain for a distraction. Wide, solid oak staircase to the upper floor, graceful hallway to the dining room and kitchen, with a cozy room off to the side, perfect for a den or library.

  Her mouth twitched in a scowl. The den was empty now, but it was probably where the father composed his Sunday sermons. Most likely with a fifth of whisky stashed in the desk. What a horrible old man to kill his whole family. The only one of them that had seen that monster’s ghost was Mark. The youngest, smallest, and most innocent of them was the one that horrible thing sought first.

  Jake’s soft snores across from her, the crackling fire, and the peaceful breathing of the kids were a somnolent lullaby. She had to get up and move around to keep alert. She eased up from the sofa and tiptoed over to the den. She had never really checked that room out when they first arrived, and this was just as good a time as any.

  When she stepped into the narrow room, a sharp creak from the floorboard pierced the air. She turned her head to see if she’d woken the kids. No, still out cold. She moved over to the window and pulled the curtain back to check the weather outside. It was still snowing but the flakes were bigger, falling slowly instead of the blowing blizzard earlier when they’d tried to escape in the car. That was a good sign; the storm was easing off, right?

  Just as she turned to head back to the living room she froze at the sharp, grating sound from the ceiling above her. She lifted her head. It had sounded like someone dragged a chair across the floor above. That was Mark’s room up there. It happened again—and louder. She looked over at Jake. Should she wake him?

  It hadn’t been loud enough to disturb anyone, they were all fast asleep. Compared to the nightmare earlier that shook the house, it was nothing. She could handle it. Let Jake sleep; the more rested he was, the better. There was still four hours to kill. She chided herself. Kill was not a good word to use this night.

  She shivered when the scraping resumed. Something was moving around in Mark’s room. Sure, Jake said he locked the door, but so what? She crept to the bottom of the stairs and peeked up. She couldn’t see anything from the bottom, so climbed up two steps. The door to Mark’s room was still closed. She let out a long sigh, only then realizing she had been holding her breath. God! She probably had aged ten years with the worry of being in this house.

  Crik-k-kik-ki-kik! She jumped at the sound; louder now, and coming from the kitchen! She stepped down the stairs and then into the hallway leading to the kitchen. If it sounded again, she was going to find out why, damn it! This was ridiculous. The kids would wake up soon if it didn’t stop. They’d been through enough. Hell! She’d had enough, too.

  She’d take a quick look into the kitchen—maybe that would be enough to keep the…she gulped...the ghost at bay or something. Her eyes darted to the sleeping figures as she crept across the living room. Probably not her best idea, but they were all so damn wrung out. Just a quick look. The lights were on, after all.

  From the entrance to the kitchen, her gaze flitted across the room. She jerked when it happened again. This time it was higher pitched, almost a squeal, filling the room from all directions. The hair on the back of her neck stood up.

  Something moved in the corner of her eye. She looked over, but there was nothing there. There had been something or someone there! It had been in the kitchen and then gone without a sound! Her heart was beating so fast and hard she thought it would burst from her chest. What was it? The old man? He’d scared the shit out of her son but ran away from an adult, just like any bully would.

  She took a few deep breaths to stop the shaking
in her hands. Her knees wobbled like jelly when she stepped into the kitchen. Her mouth suddenly felt as dry as dust. Water. A powerful thirst rolled over her and she stepped to the sink and flipped the faucet.

  She jumped back, holding her hands over her mouth. Oh God! Blood! It flowed from the faucet in a steady stream.

  Her eyes were riveted to the horrible sight as the blood flow suddenly cleared and water gushed out. She blinked a few times to clear her head. It had been there! She edged closer, peering at the basin. But there was only a swirl of water circling the drain.

  Had she really seen blood?

  Enough! Her fingers splayed in front of her, backing slowly from the sink and out of the room. She was going to sit on the sofa and pretend this hadn’t happened. No scraping, no dark man running from the room, no blood coming out of the faucet. Nope. Not happening.

  It took all her willpower to not run back to the living room, but she kept her steps deliberate and soft. She was starting to lose it. She hoped she was starting to lose it…otherwise…that really happened!

  Turning to head back to the living room, she froze at the sound of another creak from the stairs before her. Don’t look. Don’t look. Ignoring her own pleas in her head, she looked at the stairs. Please let it be just a noise. Just a noise.

  Oh God, it was the girl! She was on the steps just a few feet away, her mouth gaping open in a silent scream. She looked as solid as any person, with blood smearing her nightgown from the gash in her neck. Silently, her hand rose and pointed behind Lydia.

  The hackles on the back of her neck tingled. The sound of heavy breathing behind her registered in her ears as her nose was filled with the sour smell of whisky. She spun around, but everything had a surreal quality like she was in a slow motion film.

  The breath caught in her chest and her eyes bulged seeing the old man. His eyes sparked looking at her from under a heavy brow. His mouth was half open, and his black tongue rolled over his bottom lip like an eel. He lifted a hand over his head, the ax in it smeared with gore.

  “JAKE!” Lydia spun on the balls of her feet and raced to the living room. The kids!

  Jake flew off the couch wide awake. He grabbed her shoulders but she twisted out of his grasp. “He’s there! That old man!” She leapt to the sofa as the kids sprung to sitting positions and spun around to face the threat. She flung her hands out in front of her to ward off the apparition.

  That wasn’t there.

  Jake gaped at her. “What did you see?”

  She lurched forward and her hand clung to his arm looking past him to the dining room. “He was there! He was right there coming out of the kitchen!” She turned and pointed at the stairs. “Nancy. She tried to warn me.” She looked up into Jake’s eyes. “I swear, I saw them both!”

  She burst into tears, and Jake took her in his arms, rubbing her back. How much more of this could any of them take before they were ready for the men in white coats?

  THIRTY ONE

  Jake

  JAKE HELD THE POOR WOMAN, trying to calm her down. She was on the verge of a breakdown. And who could blame her? They were trapped in there until the sun rose, and even then who knew if they’d be able to get help?

  The ghosts, or entities, or whatever the hell term you used...they were getting bolder. He didn’t doubt that Lydia had seen both the girl and the old man. He’d never get that image of the girl rising from the bed, her head half off from the gaping wound in her neck. It was etched in his brain.

  He shivered and then pulled back from Lydia. “It’s not long now. We’re leaving at first light.” He turned her around, his hand light on her back, guided her to the sofa.

  “Mom?” Angela reached for her mother’s hand, watching Lydia with tear-filled eyes. “Sit here with us.” When Lydia sank down next to her, Angela’s arm went over her shoulders.

  Mark leaned forward, “You saw him, didn’t you? Now, it’s not just me.” He looked at Jake, “I think we should leave. Take our chances walking out of here.”

  Jake just looked at him, then at his watch. Only two thirty. If it were closer to dawn he’d agree with the boy. “No. We wait until first light. We’ll get through this, I promise you.” They were all worn out as it was. He didn’t think they’d make it through the storm in the dead of night. They desperately needed daylight, especially if the snow kept up.

  He glanced at Lydia. She was silent, staring at the fireplace, while Angela rubbed her arm. The roles had reversed and they had that damned ghost to thank for it.

  Jake flopped into the chair and winced when the gun tucked into his waist dug in. If it were a thug, that gun would have solved the problem. But how do you deal with this kind of shit? Prayers? It had been a long time since he’d set foot in a church. The last time had been his wedding and look how well that had turned out.

  He looked over at the family on the sofa. Angela’s eyes were closed, and her head rested on her mother’s shoulders. Lydia was having a hard time staying awake herself. Unbelievable. They were falling back asleep. Her head jerked and her eyes popped wide. She whispered, “How’re you doing?”

  “I’ll manage.” After a few moments he looked at her again, “Get some shut-eye. I got this.”

  She nodded and then settled deeper into the cushions, closing her eyes.

  Everything was deathly still. Only the crackle of the embers in the fire broke the quiet. He shifted in the chair and took a deep breath. It was like there was sand in his eyes every time he blinked. A couple times his head fell lower and then bobbed up again. Lydia and the kids were fast asleep, and he was struggling to stay awake himself. It was like none of this was even real.

  ***

  What? What was that? His head jerked up. The room was pitch-black. He couldn’t see anything. Shit! He’d dozed off! He jumped to his feet and groped forward to where the sofa was. He reached out and felt only the cushions. “Lydia?” He kept moving along the cushions, “Angela, Mark?” But there was nothing there.

  Where were they?

  He straightened, staring into the pitch-dark across the room. His hand yanked his weapon from its holster. For whatever good it would do. Something was very wrong. The back of his neck prickled.

  Who took them?

  Listening hard, he inched forward. “Lydia?” His free hand brushed the side of the archway, and he stopped short. Grabbing Angela’s phone from his pocket, he shone the beam over the stairs. There was nothing there.

  THUMP! THUMP! His heart skipped a beat at the pounding on the front door. Oh shit, was it the old man?

  Sidling up to the door, he peeked out the window beside it and let out a whoosh of breath. Lydia and the kids! He yanked the door open before she could pound on it again.

  A blast of icy air hit his face followed by Angela clambering to get inside. She stepped by him, “Shit! The frigging door locked behind us!”

  He glared at Lydia, “What the hell were you doing?”

  Shoving her way in, she looked past him to the darkened hallway and snarled, “Great! Just great. The power’s out again.” She had Mark by the hand and yanked him through the doorway with her.

  Mark managed to slide in a soft murmur, “I had to pee.” Lydia once more snapped, “It was just a quick trip outside! We weren’t going back upstairs to that creepy bathroom.” Her chin rose leading the way. “Nice job, keeping an eye on things, Jake. You were sound asleep.”

  He replied with an edge in his voice. “You should have woken me up! We’re supposed to stick together!” For the first time he was glad the light was low. They couldn’t see how his face was flaming with embarrassment. He had never before in his life fallen asleep on duty.

  Lydia wasn’t giving up, “Hey! I tried to! I called your name a bunch of times, but—”

  “Stop it, okay?” Angela’s hand flew up between Jake and her mother. “You two bickering isn’t gonna help us.” She pulled Mark after her, stepping over to the living room entrance. “Shit! The fire went out too?”

  Jake was still s
tanding there holding the door open like some kind of butler as they filed past chattering and bitching to no end. He went to ease it closed against the wind when the door flew from his hand and crashed into the frame with a loud bang. He jumped back at the suddenness of it. It slammed so hard the window glass cracked. He stiffened, staring at the jagged line in the window. It shut on its own? What the hell?

  His jaw clenched tight and his eyes darted around the dark room. Message received, but fuck you, you evil piece of shit! Reaching forward, he grabbed at the door to open it again; icy pain speared through his hand as soon as it touched the knob. “Shit!” he yelled, jerking it back. “Owww!” He’d left a layer of skin of the surface of the now frozen metal.

  It was like dry ice! A knot of dread gripped his gut when he turned to the family.

  More scared than angry now, Lydia yelped, “What’s wrong?”

  Before he could answer, a blood curdling scream pierced the air!

  It came from upstairs! Jake pointed his light to the top of the staircase. He peered blinking, seeing something in the low beam. A man’s lower leg and boot had shown briefly and vanished. Thudding footsteps shook the ceiling above.

  “NO! Please, no!” Another high-pitched wail pealed from above.

  It sliced through Jake’s chest. Again, the girl’s terrorized scream shrieked. More shuddering bangs followed...then, the agonizing scream again!

 

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