by Amy Cross
They waited.
“Did it work?” Sally asked after a few seconds had passed. She looked around. “Did -”
Suddenly the marker slid back to No, and then it flew off the board and hit Sally in the face before spinning away and hitting the wall. Letting out a pained gasp, Sally turned away; when she turned back to Matt, blood was running from a cut on her chin.
“Call me crazy,” she said, her voice trembling with fear, “but I don't think she's willing to let this end just yet.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Leave me alone!” Jane screamed, stumbling out of her room and then tripping, falling across the landing and hitting the wall before sliding down to the floor.
Staring up at the open door opposite, she held her breath as she waited to see her sister's dead face again. The prospect filled her with terror, but at the same time she couldn't look away. A moment later, however, she heard another door opening, and she finally turned to see that Bradley was emerging from his room.
“Are you for real?” he asked. “Are you tripping, Jane? I heard you ranting and raving in your room, what the hell was that all about?”
“I...”
She hesitated, before looking at the door again.
“Go and see,” she told him.
“What?”
“Go and look in my room,” she continued, as her voice trembled with fear, “and tell me what you see.”
Bradley hesitated, before making his way to the door and looking through into her bedroom.
“I see the room of a skanky bitch who criticizes other people when her own place isn't exactly the cleanest in the world.”
“Do you see anyone?” she shouted, momentarily losing control. She felt as if the entire world was collapsing all around her. “Do you see my sister?”
He turned to her.
“Your sister?” he said cautiously. “Didn't your sister die in an accident a few years ago?”
“Do you see her?” she asked through gritted teeth. “Yes or no?”
“No,” he told her, “I don't see her. What's all this about? Do I need to call an ambulance so you can go to the hospital and get your stomach pumped?”
“She was there,” she replied, slowly getting to her feet, not daring to take her gaze away from the door. “I could see her. I could hear her. I could smell her. It's almost as if I was starting to become her. It was like I was getting all the injuries she suffered when she was hit by that...”
Her voice trailed off. For a moment, she could only think back to the night when she'd told Olivia to get lost, when she'd made her walk home instead of giving her the ride she'd promised. That had been the last time she'd ever seen her alive. After that night, Jane's world had come crashing down, and she'd never quite recovered. She'd always been able to push the worst of it out of her mind, but now something seemed to have changed.
“Okay, I think you're having some kind of breakdown,” Bradley told her. “Let's call a truce for tonight, okay? I want to help you, and you're really freaking me out.”
“She said she blamed me,” she replied, as she felt a knot of fear starting to tighten in her chest. “She said it was all my fault.” She slowly turned to him. “I think she's come back to make me pay.”
***
Racing out of the house, Jane stumbled and bumped against a parked car, and then she set off along the pavement. She heard Bradley calling after her, but she told herself that she had no more time to stop and talk. All she wanted was to get as far away as possible from her dead sister. She told herself that she hadn't really seen Olivia, that the evening's strange events had simply messed with her head, but still...
She had to run.
Reaching the end of the street, however, she realized that she didn't know where to go. Unable to simply stand still, she began to follow the road to the right, heading up the gentle rise that led to the train bridge. Traffic lights blinked in the distance, organizing empty road, as Jane made her way over the bridge. She glanced down at the train tracks far below, and at the station a little further off, and then she headed down the other side until she reached the crossroads with The Brew House on one corner.
She looked around, and then she let out a shocked gasp as she saw a figure standing over by one of the crossings.
“No,” she whispered, even though she could already tell that the figure was staring straight at her, “it's not you.”
She forced herself to turn and keep going, past a row of shops and then over to the edge of the supermarket parking lot. Telling herself that the other figure had simply been some other poor soul who'd been out for a wander at damn near three in the morning, she managed to keep from looking over her shoulder, and she felt some degree of calm as she realized that she couldn't hear footsteps following her along the street. Finally, as she reached the turn-off for the supermarket, she stopped and took a deep breath, and she told herself that it would be safe to look.
She slowly turned, and to her immense relief there was no sign of anyone.
“Told you,” she said out loud. “It was nothing but a load of crap that got into my head.”
Still, she looked around for a moment longer, before deciding to take the road that led into town. She figured that she could call on one of her friends and hang out for a few hours; Beth would usually be up all night, and so would Carrie or Liam. As she shuffled past another row of dark shops, however, she once again began to feel as if she was being watched. No matter how hard she tried to ignore that sensation, she felt it getting stronger and stronger, until finally she stopped as she looked ahead and saw the High Street in the distance. Somehow she knew that something was waiting for her there, so she turned and doubled back on herself, before picking a new direction and making her way along the next street.
“There's no-one there,” she whispered, “there's no -”
“Jane.”
Startled, she spun around.
No-one was behind her, but her dead sister's voice had seemed so clear for a moment.
“Go away!” she spluttered before she had a chance to stop herself. “I know you're not real, so just leave me alone!”
She waited, but a moment later she saw the lights of a car approaching a nearby junction. She instinctively pulled back out of sight around the corner, and then she watched as a police car slowly drove past. Although she was doing nothing wrong, she knew the police would have stopped to ask her if she was okay, and she had no idea how to even begin to explain why she was out. Instead, she waited until the car had disappeared into the distance, and then she set off again, this time with a specific destination in mind.
Lofty.
She was going to visit Lofty.
He'd be awake; if he wasn't, she'd knock on his door until he had no choice.
She picked up the pace a little, resisting the urge to run. Again, she was troubled by the sense that she was being watched or followed, and she was finding it harder and harder to put that feeling out of her mind. After a few seconds she broke into a jog, but then she stopped at the next corner as she realized she was getting close to The Crowford Hoy. She felt certain that Sally and Matt would have long since packed up and abandoned their stupid game, but she still didn't much fancy the idea of accidentally bumping into either of them, so she picked a slightly longer route to Lofty's house, one that took her along Fentinel Street.
Glancing over her shoulder, she checked once again that there was no sign of anyone, and then she took the next left.
“Why did you let me die?” Olivia asked, suddenly standing right in front of her, her body bearing all the injuries she'd sustained four years ago. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. “Why didn't you pick me up like you promised?”
Jane stared at her for a moment, struck by the horrific sight of her little sister's corpse, and then she turned and ran. Racing back along Orange Street, all she knew was that she had to get as far away as possible, and – as she rushed across the next junction – she barely even noticed a flash of
light to her right.
In an instant, a van slammed into her side, shattering her ribs and sending her flying through the air until she hit a lamppost. Unable to even scream, she spun around and hit the tarmac with enough speed that her body scraped along the ground for several meters before coming to a rest in the gutter.
As one final gurgle rose from her throat, Jane looked up and saw the church spire nearby, and she realized that she was at the exact same junction where her sister had died after being hit by a car. She tried to move, to run, to cry out, but her body was broken. A strong smell of spilled petrol filled her nostrils, and she could feel gravel and dirt against her hands as she made one last attempt to sit up. Someone was shouting nearby, trying to raise the alarm as footsteps hurried closer, but Jane could only blink as her life drained away. By the time the van's driver reached her, she was dead.
Chapter Twenty
“It's like we've opened a door to something,” Matt said, sitting at the table and staring down at the taped-together spirit board, “and now we can't close it. She won't let us.”
He hesitated, before sliding the board closer and examining the torn section.
“What if we've missed a piece that got damaged?” he asked. “You know what it's like in horror films, ghosts are always real sticklers for the rules. Some of them can be really pedantic at times. What if a tiny piece is missing and that's why we weren't able to say goodbye?”
He turned the board over, but he could see no gaps.
“Matt?”
“I guess maybe it's because there were only two of us,” he added. “That must be it after all. It's really obvious, you even said it yourself. It takes three people to get anything done with that thing. It won't work with just the two of us.”
“Matt?”
“All we managed to do was annoy her. Right now, we have no way to force Mildred Weaver to listen to us, or to make her do anything we want. Why is she even after that little girl, anyway? It's like she's obsessed.”
“Matt?”
“What?”
He continued to examine the board, but for a moment Sally said nothing.
“You haven't looked at me,” she managed finally.
He turned to her.
“That's the first time you've looked at me since I told you,” she continued. “Properly, I mean. Since I told you what I did to Tommy.”
“Nonsense,” he replied. “I looked at you a load of times.”
“I can see it in your eyes. You think I'm a terrible person.”
“This isn't the time to talk about any of that,” he told her. “In case you forgot, we've got a situation here.”
“There's been no sign of Annie or Mildred Weaver since we tried to say goodbye,” Sally pointed out. “Matt, I know what you must think of me. Believe me, I think the same thing. I killed my son. It doesn't matter that I thought I was doing it for the right reasons, it doesn't matter that I ended his suffering. I know exactly what I did, and I know that I can never be forgiven.” She paused. “I'm definitely going to confess. First thing in the morning. Whatever happens, happens, but I can't live like this.”
“You did what you had to do,” he replied, looking back down at the board. He knew that Sally was right, that looking at her made him feel uncomfortable; he wanted to prove her wrong, but he didn't quite have the strength.
“You still can't quite look me in the eye for long,” she pointed out. “It's okay. I get it.”
He stared at the board, before turning to her. And then, before he could say another word, he saw a flashing blue light pass the pub, and he realized he could hear voices in the distance.
“Is something happening out there?” he asked, getting to his feet and hurrying to the window.
He pulled the blind aside and peered out, and sure enough he could see more lights in the distance.
“I think there's been an accident,” he said, turning to Sally. “I can see an ambulance. I think someone might be hurt.”
***
“What happened?” he asked a couple of minutes later, as he and Sally reached the corner of Orange Street and saw a van parked in the middle of the road. A little further off, an ambulance crew had begun to tend to a body on the ground, while two police cars were parked nearby.
“A girl got hit by a car,” a woman explained, wearing a dressing gown. “I was already awake, I was having trouble sleeping, and I heard it all. The driver's over there. He says she ran out into the middle of the road before he had a chance to touch the brakes.”
“This is the same spot where Jane's sister died,” Sally whispered.
Matt turned to her.
“It was before I came to Crowford,” she continued. “You must remember it, right?”
“Vaguely,” he admitted. “Didn't she get hit by a car while she was walking home?”
“Jane always blamed herself,” Sally said, as she felt a growing sense of unease in the pit of her stomach. “When she was drunk, at least. That was pretty much the only time she was ever willing to talk about it. She was supposed to give her sister a lift home from some class, but she blew her off to go out with some guy instead. The girl walked home and got hit by a car along the way. Jane's parents never forgave her, I don't think they even spoke to her again.”
“I remember that too,” the woman said, with a deflated tone to her voice. “I'm telling you, if it happens a third time round here, I might think about moving. Then again, this junction's going to start getting a bad reputation soon, I might have to get started before everyone else comes up with the same idea.” She sniffed in the cold night air. “Something like this never has a good impact on property prices.”
“Wait,” Sally said, spotting a bag on the ground near one of the lampposts, “is that...”
She hesitated, before making her way around the side of the small crowd and heading to the post. Crouching down, she picked up the scuffed bag and saw immediately that she'd been right: it was Jane's bag, but she was pretty sure that Jane had gone the other way after leaving the pub earlier.
Turning, she looked over at the body on the ground. Just as one of the paramedics moved a sheet over the body, she saw the side of Jane's face.
“No!” she shouted, starting to rush over, only for a police officer to step in the way and stop her.
“I can't let you go over there,” he said firmly.
“That's my friend!”
She tried to break free of the officer's grip, but he was holding her too firmly.
“Is she okay?” she asked. “Please, tell me she's okay!”
“I'm sorry,” the officer replied, “there's nothing we can do for her now. We need to notify her next of kin.”
“She can't be dead!” Sally sobbed. “There's got to be some kind of mistake!”
“This is the bag that was on the ground, isn't it?” the officer asked, as Sally stepped back. He reached out and took the bag from her trembling hands. “I'm going to have to ask you to move back, unless you have any information about how she came to be out here tonight.”
Too horrified to even hear what the man was saying, Sally could only stare in horror at the shape on the ground. She told herself that it couldn't be true, but at the same time she'd seen Jane's face for herself. Even from the body language of the paramedics, she could already see that there was no sense of urgency, nothing to indicate that they thought anything could be done to save the woman on the ground.
“Come on, let's get you out of here,” Matt said, trying to steer her away.
“Do you know what she was doing before she ran into the road?” the officer asked Sally. “It's rather late for a young woman to be out and about, especially on her own. Were you with her?”
“No, she wasn't,” Matt explained. “We were inside, we just heard the commotion.”
“Then you really need to stay back and let us do our job,” the officer told him. “The bag might be evidence, you really shouldn't have picked it up. Please, there's nothing you can do.”
“She knows,” Matt replied, leading Sally away. “She's sorry.”
Reaching a bench near the church railings, Matt helped her sit down.
“Why did I let her leave?” she sobbed, putting her hands over her face. “I knew she was upset, I could see something was wrong, but I was so angry that she'd been talking to Kevin. I still shouldn't have let her go, though. I should have made her stay and talk to me!”
“That was an hour ago, or more,” he pointed out. “She obviously didn't just run out here and get hurt.”
He looked over toward the ambulance for a moment.
“This isn't your fault, Sally,” he continued, as he saw the body on the ground, covered by a dark sheet. “Whatever happened...”
His voice trailed off.
“This is exactly where her sister died,” Sally said.
“That doesn't mean -”
“It's exactly the same spot!” she said, looking up at him. “Are you seriously trying to tell me that's a coincidence?”
“I never said that, but -”
“It has to be linked to what happened tonight in the pub,” she continued. “Whatever we unleashed, Matt, whatever we started... I don't think it's confined to the pub itself. I think it followed Jane and got her killed.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“We need to figure out what to do next,” Matt said a short while later, as he led a shaken Sally into the pub and then turned to lock the door. “It'll be four in the morning soon. We can't let this go on all night.”
He headed over to Sally and took her by the arm, trying to lead her to a seat, but after a moment she stopped and turned to look across the empty bar.
“Come on,” Matt said, “we -”
“What do you want?” Sally screamed, pushing him away and stepping over to the middle of the room.
“Sally, I think -”
“Just tell us what you want!” she shouted at the top of her voice, turning and looking around for any sign of Mildred Weaver. “Jane's dead! Are you happy now? She's dead, just like you!” She looked the other way. “Is that what you want? Do you want revenge on anyone who's alive?”