"Yes ma'am. Absolutely. You won't hear about it from us again."
"Good. See to it that I don't. Now off you go. Go finish your shift. I want you to drive around some more, meet the locals, and learn about the island while you have some downtime. I'm sure your one rouge call is probably all you will ever get in a given day."
"Yes. ma'am"
Charlotte watched Victoria turn on her spiky heels and storm through the door for the stair well. Once the echo of the clanking heels faded, she turned to Charles, who silently motioned for her to get back into the ambulance. They drove away from the station house to a nearby park they had passed on the way back from their call. Sitting on the park bench, soaking up the sunshine, they counted to groups of crows gathering around them and chatted about the unpleasant lecture until the clock before them struck three and it was time for them to return.
Chapter Thirteen
“There are no explanations for human evil. Only excuses.” ― Dean Koontz, Intensity
C leaning off their ambulance to prepare for the next day, Charlotte grabbed her bag out from the cab and exited the station. Walking for the spot where the Jeep was waiting for her, she crossed the parking lot when something caught her eye and froze her in her tracks. Putting a hand to her racing heart, she continued to gawk at the black-clad figure standing next to a large oak tree across the street. She knew that creature too well by now; it was her mythical pigman, staring at her through its empty eye sockets. It did not move from where it stood, it simply tilted its head and raised a hand, pointing at something. She traced the lines of the bony finger and her eyes landed on the vine-covered brick building sitting atop the hill in the distance. Returning her gaze to the tree, she was hoping to get a better look at the figure, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, and she could finally exhale the stale air trapped in her lungs. Stifling a scream, she turned and ran for the Jeep where Cyrus would be waiting for her.
Throwing her bag to the floor, she opened the door and hopped in panting. The old man turned to frown at her, and she just smiled at and claimed she couldn't wait to get home. With a snort, Cyrus turned away from her, and she leaned her head on her hand, counting the six crows which gathered on a ledge of the station house above them. It was not long before Charles and Iris strolled out together, chatting and laughing. Having climbed in the back of the car, Chuck leaned over the seat and patted her on the shoulder.
"Not going to leave your bag in your locker, partner?"
"No." Charlotte glanced over her shoulder with an awkward laugh. "I like having it on me in case I need it. A force of habit really since in Seattle they expected me to bring it home."
"Fair enough."
"Hey, so guys, are we going to talk about Victoria's blow out today?"
"You mean when boss lady flipped her lid over the call to that old hospital today?"
"Yeah, and she was being nice to the two of you, I know cause I listened in after how she went off on me. Why, I thought she was going to rip my head clean off when I told her I called it in to you." Iris glimpsed down in her lap with a pink tinge to her cheeks. "You should have seen how red her face got when she heard the location. She spent the next ten minutes lecturing me about how I should ignore all calls for the hospital and how I should forget the place even exists. At one point, she threatened to fire me if I ever take a call for that place again."
"Really?" Charlotte glance back at the building looking over the island beneath the lighthouse. "Chuck and I were actually talking about that place ourselves after our lecture. I mean, I know they condemned the place, but there is no way that no one dares to go in there. Even in large cities we have kids and urban explorers breaking into nuclear power plants and other dangerous areas. I have a hard time believing that such things don't happen here to a lousy old hospital."
"Oh, I'm sure they do, Miss. Briggs, but if they do, we probably won't get any calls about them getting hurt there."
"How come?"
"Because legend has it, that if you are to go into that place, you won't be getting out alive."
"Legend?" Chuck leaned in closer to Cyrus. "Now that I have to hear. Tell us, old man, what is this legend?"
"Well, the first thing you should know is that the Natives called this place the isle of the great devil. It was rumored that men who fished too close to this island often got lost in the fog, never to find their way back, and the natives believed that a great evil spirit dwelt here." Cyrus started up the Jeep and drove down the winding road. "Then, when the first settlers got here, stories began to circulate about how they banished a witch here, and how she made a deal with the devil to extend her life in exchange for human souls. After the hospital was built on that hill there, and that doctor started her experiments, it didn't take long for locals to claim that they built it on the site of the witch's cottage and how she now haunts the place, hunting for souls to give to her master. Today, aside from a few brave kids and some tourists, no one dares to go there, and those who do, don't stay long."
"Fascinating," Charlotte glanced at the old building growing closer as they drove, "so, everyone stays away from it out of superstitious fear?"
"Not fear my girl, more of a primitive instinct or a need for self-preservation. Don't believe me?" He glanced over at her with a smirk. "Well, you just get near the gates of that place and you will understand what I mean. The oppressive energy will grab hold of you and suck the air right out of your lungs the moment you're near and your skin will begin to tingle. For most people, that is enough proof that something evil dwells there, and they run away as fast as their feet will carry them. To this day, I don't think a single person has managed to get anywhere near the door to even stick their nose inside and poke around." Parking the Jeep by the side door of the hotel, Cyrus cut off the engine and gazed up to the sky, still smiling. "But enough of old ghost stories and urban legends. I'm sure you kids have better things to do with your evening. I'll see you guys tomorrow at seven-thirty sharp."
"Bye Cyrus, I'll see you tomorrow." Iris jumped out and waved. "You have a good night now."
"Night, Miss.Chapman."
"Night, man."
"Thank you, Cyrus, for the ride and the stories." Charlotte grabbed her bag. "Take care now."
"You too, Miss. Briggs. And keep an eye on that boy of yours, this island can be rough for newcomers."
Holding the straps of her bag, Charlotte watched Cyrus drive off into the distance, getting sad at not getting to hear more of his stories until the next day. She turned to walk inside and spotted a giggling Iris lean over and whisper something in Charles' ear before running off into the hotel. Lowering her gaze, she went to go through the side door when Chuck called out to her and made her stop halfway to her destination.
Chapter Fourteen
“Maybe all the schemes of the devil were nothing compared to what man could think up.” —Joe Hill
T urning, she waited for her partner walk over to her. She always hated this part, where people would try to befriend her. It's not that she didn't want friends, she craved them, but after living with a man who forbid such luxury, she was still nervous about forming deeper social connections. Evidently Bret still had a hold on her, and she was not entirely free from his brainwashing, but she waited for Charles to approach her, regardless.
"You got plans tonight, Char? Cause Iris and I were going to go out and check out the bar down the street, and we wanted to know if you want to join us."
"Thanks, Chuck, but I can't leave my kid behind. Plus, I think we are going to have pizza and watch Night of the Living Dead tonight."
"All right, suit yourself. Enjoy your night with your boy. Iris and I will see you tomorrow. But if you change your mind, you know where to find us."
"Thanks, man. I'll see you tomorrow. You guys have fun."
Waving at Chuck, Charlotte headed for the door but stopped when she remembered what happened to her in the hallway that morning. For a moment she entertained the idea of going to the patio and
knocking on the glass door, but she didn't want to scare her son, or worse, give him the idea that his mother was crazy. She had no choice, and she pulled open the door and held her breath as she stepped into the peaceful hall. Darting her eyes around between the two walls, she noted that nothing strange was happening. The only sounds were the dings of the elevator and the muffled whispers of footfalls on the carpet from people going into their room. Feeling safe, she exhaled and hurried for her door.
Inside, she found Kevin sprawled on the bed with his Switch in hand, playing Mario Kart from the sounds of it. His book bag was parked on the stool by the door, as flat as it was the night before. Charlotte was puzzled. Normally his bag would be bulging from books, and he would be sitting at the desk feverishly scribbling amongst a mound of scattered worksheets. If Kevin was any other kid, she'd think he skipped school, but her kid was far too responsible for that. He had aspirations of becoming an engineer when he grew up, and he worked hard to keep his grades up. Parking her bag next to his, she took off her shoes and shut the hotel door behind her.
"Hey kiddo, how was school?"
"Freaky." Kevin finally looked up from his screen and sat up to greet her. "Do I really have to go back there?"
"Yes, you do, young man. Seriously, what has gotten into you? How bad can your school possibly be?"
"Horrible. There are all of like ten people in my class, and they are all weird."
"How so?"
"For one, they just sit, and do their work quietly. Then there is the teacher." Kevin sat up and whispered. "She doesn't teach anything, she just put's up our assignments on the blackboard, and we do them. And let me tell you, these kids, they don't talk, they don't look up, I'm pretty sure they don't even blink. They just sit and work like a bunch of mindless zombies, or some freaky living dolls."
"Huh, so your teacher doesn't give lectures?"
"No! She just sits at her desk, humming this creepy tune with a smile on her face and her head in a book. She doesn't even glance up to see if we are working. I think I could have left and come back before lunch without her taking notice."
"That is a bit strange."
"Oh, you haven't heard the rest of it yet. When they break for lunch, they all just reach under their seats, pull out the same lunch—plain bologna sandwich, celery sticks, an apple, and a carton of low-fat milk—and they just eat it in silence at their desk, in the same order. They don't talk to each other, and they don't go outside to play, they finish their food and return to work. It's like they aren't even kids. It reminds me of that movie you love about the robot wives."
"So, I take it you didn't make any friends then?"
"Nope, I don't befriend robots, or aliens."
"What about homework?"
"Don't got any. I asked the teacher if she was going to assign us some, but she just laughed and said homework is for inner-city kids. Said something about keeping them inside and off the streets and how that's not an issue in Autumn Falls. Then she told me we learn all we need to learn in class."
"I see." Charlotte plopped on the edge of her bed to consider the unsettling irregularities happening all over town. "Well, if it's any consolation, my day wasn't any better. I responded to a guy who cut off his own foot with the help of his mother."
"What? Like, on purpose?"
"That's what it seemed like. They were not even the least bit concerned about his injury. And then, in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, he grabbed hold of me and wouldn't let go. I think it was just the adrenaline talking, but it freaked me out nonetheless."
"What if it wasn't adrenaline? What if there is something wrong with this island?"
"Like what?"
"I don't know. Maybe everyone here has an alien parasite embedded in their brain. Or maybe it's like in that book where there is an ancient bacterium that consumes people and creates phantoms from them so it can hunt more prey."
"Sounds like you have been watching far too many sci-fi movies and reading too many adult horror books."
"Yeah, maybe..." Kevin stared at her biting his bottom lip, "but you have to admit that this place is odd. I don't know what it is, but I feel on edge here, like someone is constantly watching me with hungry eyes, waiting for the right moment to strike."
"Yeah, my Spidey sense is tingling here too. But lets at least give this place a chance before we pack up and run. Maybe this is just the way island life is, and we'll get used to it."
"I don't want to get used to this. I want my brain intact, thank you."
"All right, all right." Charlotte got up from the bed laughing and ruffled her son's hair. "How about I order us some pizza, and we forget all about today over a movie?"
"Anchovies and extra cheese?"
"You got it. I'll go down to the corner store and grab the pizza. Why don't you go to the lobby and grab a movie from the red box that they got sitting next to the soda machine?"
"Deal. See you back here in a bit. Watch out for them zombies, or body snatchers, or whatever they are."
"Will do. You stay safe too, kid."
Watching Kevin leave, Charlotte went to order their pizza. The rest of the evening was uneventful with nothing frightening or unusual happening to either of them. The two enjoyed their dinner while watching old horror movies and laughing. By the time bedtime rolled around, they had both forgot all about the events of their day and settled in for the night. Breathing a sigh of relief, Charlotte settled down on her pillow and drifted off to sleep, eager to put the day behind her.
Chapter Fifteen
“We’re too much ourselves. Afraid of letting go of what we are, in case we are nothing, and holding on so tight, we lose everything else.”—Clive Barker, Imajica
A loud ringing pierced through the silence, ushering Charlotte to abandon her pleasant dreams and wake up in her room. Shaking off sleep, she glanced at the red light blinking on the screaming phone, and then moved her heavy eyes to the digital clock beside it. Three in the morning, she thought to herself. Who would call this late at night? Still, the phone was unrelenting, and she picked up the receiver before it woke up Kevin as well.
"Hello?" She waited for someone to reply, but the only thing on the other end was heavy breathing and the hollow sound of rain in the distance. "Hello, who's there?" Still, no reply came, only static. "Bret, is that you?" More raspy breathing came as a reply. "Bret, if that's you then you better listen; I don't know how you tracked us here, but it's over between us. Forget I ever existed. And Bret... I swear, if you come after us, I will kill you myself with my bare hands. You stay the hell away from us, you hear?"
She expected him to reply, but no one did, only the sound of heavy panting and the rasp of raindrops in the distance came through from the other end. Frustrated, she slammed the receiver back on the phone and sat in bed gripping her sheets. Cold hard fear stirred inside her, she was terrified he was going to come after her again, try to steal Kevin like he did that one time. Thinking she was going to give her mother a call in the morning, she noticed something else for the first time, the hissing of static coming from the living space. Getting up from the bed, she stared at the snow flickering on the television. Thinking they forgot to shut the screen off before going to bed, she reached for the remote on the small coffee table.
"Cherry." Zack's voice called her, and she fumbled with the clicker, which slipped out of her hands. "Help me, Cherry."
Looking at where the voice came from, she spotted a face forming in the black and white lines of the screen, bulging, trying to escape. Slapping a hand over her mouth, she swallowed a scream and fell onto the couch. The face twisting and pulling at the glass, moaned, and a hand formed next to it, trying to escape. Quickly pressing the red button on the remote, she watched the screen go black and the form disappeared. Dropping her arms down, she stared at the blank screen, taking a deep breath as her heart slowed from a gallop to a light trot. Standing up on shaking legs, she was about to go crawl into bed when something outside caught her attention.
&
nbsp; Tick. Tick. Tick.
Charlotte was chilled to the marrow and her heart skipped a rhythm as she realized that the sound was coming from outside. Someone, or something was tapping on the glass pane of her door. She waited, praying for them to go away, but then she heard it again.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Her stomach cramped with fear, paralyzing her in place. Still, the ticking continued on the glass, and she turned to fling back the curtains. Greeting her from the silver moonlight hanging in the curdling mist was the pigman, tapping at the door with his long black fingernail. Upon seeing her, the creature let out a shrill yell and sent her stumbling back to the floor. It pressed its snout to the door, fogging up the glass and making it squeak as it moved around. Charlotte scrambled back up against Kevin's bed and watched at the thing pointed behind him, to where the old hospital sat. She half expected him to bust through the pane and take her, but to her surprise the creature turned and walked away, leaving her sitting breathlessly in the dark.
Not daring to get close to the door, she crawled up into bed next to her son, and draped her arm around him. She pressed herself closer to him and held him tight, fearing losing him to the demon outside if she was to relinquish her grip. The boy was everything she had, and her heart twisted in agony at the thought of something bad happening to him. So, Charlotte gripped him tighter, as silent tears ran down her face from the thoughts plaguing her mind, and she fell asleep with a heavy heart and a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach that something horrible was going to happen to him.
Chapter Sixteen
“I don't know which is worse. The terror you feel the first time you witness such things, or the numbness that comes after it starts to become ordinary.”—Tasha Alexander, A Fatal Waltz
A lthough they could have stayed at the station house and waited for a call to come in, Charlotte and Chuck agreed to go grab a coffee from the café instead of being anywhere near Victoria. Both had agreed that the woman made them uneasy, and that she had an ominous aura around her which made the blood run cold. Having grabbed their drinks, compliments of the nice elderly lady behind the counter, they sat on a nearby bench at the park across the street, glancing up at the lighthouse sweep its dim-washed light across the horizon. Taking a sip of her coffee, Charlotte nudged Charles with her elbow and motioned her head to the seven crows gathering in the grass beside them. Knitting his brow, he leaned over, picked up a small rock, and chucked it at the birds, making them scatter in a flood of angry cries.
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