by A. I. Nasser
I slept in the bed next to Benjamin’s. Well, not really slept. The smell and the cold made it hard for anyone to fall asleep, and the boy was tossing and turning in his bed. That’s when I started hearing the rats.
They were everywhere above my head, running back and forth, their little legs scurrying across the floor above me. I had never heard it before, and never in my life had I heard that many at once. It scared me to death, and I began to worry about Ana. I quickly wore my robe and stepped out onto the second-floor landing, with every intention of checking on her.
When I noticed the open attic, I ran to Ana’s room. I wanted to warn her about the rats, about the open attic door, but she wasn’t in her room. I looked in Samuel’s office, but she wasn’t there either. That’s when I heard her. It took me a while to notice it, but it was definitely her, and she was in the attic. With the rats, and whoever it was she was talking to. She wasn’t alone. I knew that, but for the life of me, I couldn’t tell who was up there with her. I doubt it was Samuel, but I wasn’t going to wait and see.
Walter, the darkness! I have never felt darkness that heavy before. It was everywhere, claustrophobic, as if it were a living, breathing thing that was swallowing up the light. I thought my eyes would adjust, but they didn’t. I tried to find Ana, but it was hopeless, and her voice had disappeared completely, as if she knew I was there and she didn’t want me to hear her.
I climbed the ladder, quickly, praying she was ok. I got to the top, and before I could pull all the way up, Ana fell to the attic floor in front of me. She was barely visible in the light, on all fours, screaming at me to get out, her eyes bleach white. My hands let go of the ladder immediately, my head hitting the side of the opening, and I fell. I landed hard on the floor, my eyes still locked on the face looking down at me, my pain forgotten as what I thought was Ana screamed at me again and again to get out.
I ran, Walter. I ran like I had never run in my life. I didn’t stop until I reached Gale Street. I staggered into Denny’s, screaming for help, out of breath, my feet bleeding.
I stayed there until Sebastian came to take me home. I never went back to that house. I had nightmares for weeks. In each of them Ana was screaming at me, those dead eyes digging into me, her mouth open in an endless scream as she chased me. Get out, she would scream, over and over again.
Two weeks later, Benjamin Dean died in that fire, and a few days afterward, Samuel started killing people.
Bonus Scene Chapter 5
Walter sat quietly next to Audrey Fern as she finished her story.
The woman had her arms wrapped around her shoulders, rocking back and forth, and he found himself wondering how much truth was actually behind her story. He had known that Martha Green had her moments, and it was understandable when you actually got to know Alexander. But, Samuel Dean, now that explained a lot.
“Was Alexander Green responsible for that fire?” Walter finally asked.
Audrey didn’t answer, just continued to rock as she stared out into space. He decided that was answer enough.
Walter sighed and stood up, trudging to his desk as he sat down heavily behind it. His eye caught the back of the deed, and he pulled it closer to see what was written there.
You’ll know what to do with it.
He compared the handwriting to the signatures and realized it was Ana’s. Whatever had happened in that house, whatever had pushed her to try and set fire to the Greens, she knew that Audrey knew about it. Why burden her with it?
Walter looked up at Audrey and saw that she was aware of what his next question would be. She shook her head, her eyes begging him not to ask her, but he couldn’t.
“That night that Samuel confronted you –”
“Please, Walter,” Audrey begged him. “Please don’t.”
Walter nodded, understanding that more than just a talk had gone on between the two, and folded the deed neatly. He replaced it with the key in the box and closed it. He got up, walked to Audrey and handed the box to her. She looked at it, and then shook her head quickly, turning away.
“It’s yours now,” Walter said. “I can’t use a crazy woman’s blood painted words to prove anything. I won’t even admit to having heard your story, but you can’t stay in Cafeville, Audrey.”
The woman began to cry again, but she nodded. She knew he was right.
“Take it,” Walter said, placing the box gently in her hands. “This is yours now. Deal with it as you see fit. Sell it if you have to.”
“No,” Audrey said. “I couldn’t do that to anyone.”
Walter shrugged, sighing as he scratched the back of his head. “Then tear it down. If your story is true, then that place needs to go.”
Audrey looked up at him, her eyes red with tears, her body shaking again. “Alexander knew about the affair,” she said. “They all did.”
“That can’t be helped anymore,” Walter said. “We’re all going to have to live with what happened. God help us all.”
He walked Audrey out of the station, his hand on her arm to steady her. As soon as they were outside, the sun in their faces and the light breeze rustling her hair, he gave her a hug and sent her on her way.
It was the last time anyone saw Audrey Fern in Cafeville.
***
Derrick Fern sat silently at his desk, looking at the small box that had been hidden under his mother’s bed.
For most of his life, she had been a quiet woman, her secrets many and kept well. He had cleaned out her room a few days after her funeral, and finding that small space hiding under the floorboards had been quite a surprise, even to him. He had hidden under that bed several times as a child, playing hide and seek, and had never noticed that the floorboards weren’t even.
Derrick opened the box and unfolded the sheet of paper inside, the key within sliding out onto John Krik’s manuscript. He scanned the deed, frowning as he saw the handwritten message on the back.
Shrugging, he folded it back into the box and dropped the key inside.
Cafeville could wait.
* * *
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