Dwell (Kassidy Bell Series Book 2)

by Lynda O'Rourke

  Raven stood by the dwindling fire in our bedroom. She swung around when she heard us enter. Her face was masked with her usual sulky look. She stood with her hands on her hips, greasy black hair draped over her face like she’d slithered out of the ocean covered in seaweed.

  “You’re looking good tonight,” said Jude, walking straight past her and heading for the window.

  “Are we leaving now?” asked Raven, ignoring Jude’s bitchy comment.

  “Nope,” Jude answered, staring out into the dark night.

  “Why not?” pushed Raven, glaring at me and Max.

  “It’s too dark,” said Jude, his tone flat like he was bored.

  “Get a torch,” hissed Raven.

  “Don’t have one.”

  “Find one,” she sneered.

  “You fucking find one,” snapped Jude, spinning around to face her.

  A loud thump from above made us all look up at the ceiling.

  “What has to happen to make you lot leave this house?” Raven said, her eyes still on the ceiling.

  “Some daylight, maybe?” said Max, a look of uncertainty across his face as he peered up toward the third floor.

  The thump came again and then that scattering noise echoed down the chimney.

  “What is that?” I whispered, looking at the others.

  “Another ostrich, I guess,” said Jude, coming away from the window, only this time there was no jokey tone to his voice. “Look, we’re gonna leave as soon as it starts to get a little light. We just need to wait it out here for a couple of hours and then we sneak out.”

  “What if we don’t have a couple of hours?” said Raven, sounding a little pacified now that she knew we would be leaving soon.

  Before Jude could reply to Raven, the scattering noise came again but with more force this time. Bits of soot and crumbling brick fell into the hearth. I went to throw more coals onto the fire but there were none left. Mrs. Gables wasn’t keeping up with her bonfire obsession in this room.

  “There are no coals,” I whispered. “I think I’ll go get some from the other bedroom.” I opened the door and peered out into the corridor. When I was happy that it was empty, I walked over to the other bedroom and pushed open the door. The room was cold. The only light came from the window and that wasn’t much. Walking across the bare floorboards, it suddenly dawned on me that the fire had gone out in here. I looked about the hearth for the coals but there were none. The scattering sound came again, only from this chimney instead.

  “What the freaking hell is that?” I whispered, getting down on all fours and sticking my head under the chimneybreast. “There can’t be birds in every one of these things, surely?” I peered up. It was like staring into a deep, dark cavern. I pulled my head out when a few small clusters of brick fell onto my face. Coughing, I brushed the bits from off my cheeks and stood up. Where could I get some coals? I needed to get this fire going. I shook my head. “God, I’m becoming like Mrs. Gables and her inferno addiction.” What did it matter if the fire wasn’t burning in here? We weren’t sleeping in this room, and if a bird came down – well, that was for the bishop and Mrs. Gables to deal with in the morning. We wouldn’t even be here then. I left and shut the door behind me.

  “There are no coals,” I said to the others as I closed the door to our bedroom.

  Before anyone could say anything, a tap on the door made us all spin around. We looked at each other – unsure whether to answer.

  “Who is it?” I called out, chewing on my lip.

  The door opened and the bishop stepped in. He was dressed for bed in his stripy pyjamas and dressing gown.

  “I’m so sorry to disturb you all, but I have a problem and I wonder if you could all help me?” said the bishop. “I know its late but I think some of the old wooden windows have blown open in the wind on the third floor and they need shutting. Do you think you could come up there and help me shut them? I would do it myself but there’s quite a few and they will need hammering shut with some nails. The catches and locks no longer work.”

  “I thought you said it wasn’t safe up there?” I questioned.

  “It isn’t, my dear, but I know where to tread and where to stay away from,” smiled the bishop. “I don’t know about you four but I need a good night’s sleep and those windows thumping open and closed all night is going to keep me awake.”

  Another loud thump came from above us. I looked round at the others and then back at the bishop’s pleading face. He had helped us out by allowing us to stay in his house so it was only right that we returned the favour. Besides, it was probably too much work for the bishop to manage by himself and I couldn’t imagine Mrs. Gables up there in the dead of night hammering away.

  “I’ll give you a hand,” said Max, coming to stand beside the bishop.

  “Come on then,” sighed Jude, looking at Raven and me. “It shouldn’t take too long if we all get stuck in.”

  “Excellent,” beamed the bishop, clasping his hands together. “Follow me, and I’ll lead the way.”

  The bishop pulled out a torch and switched it on. The beam of light lit up the corridor as we followed him. Mrs. Gables suddenly appeared in the dark. She was standing at her bedroom door looking meek and timid – her usual act in front of the bishop. If only he knew what she was like when he wasn’t around.

  “Are you going up to the third floor?” she asked, wringing her hands together. She wore a thick green dressing gown and matching slippers and her head was covered in some kind of bonnet.

  “Just fixing those dreadful windows, Mrs. Gables,” said the bishop. “Nothing for you to worry about. You go back to bed.”

  We reached the stairs that led up to the third floor. I looked back down the corridor and watched Mrs. Gables disappear back into her bedroom. She shut the door and I heard her turn the key. The sound of two bolts being slid across echoed through the dark. I was beginning to wonder if Mrs. Gables didn’t suffer from a form of OCD, what, with her obsession with lighting fires and locking doors.

  “Come on, Kassidy,” called Jude. They had already reached the top of the stairs and were now waiting for me.

  I climbed two stairs at a time. It was rather cramped at the top and we stood huddled close together while the bishop fumbled with the padlock. His wrinkled old hands trembled as he turned the key.

  “There’s evil in this house – I can feel it,” whispered Raven.

  “Don’t,” said Max, holding up his hand as if to block out Raven’s voice. “Don’t say that stuff when I’m about to go into some creepy attic.”

  “Well why did you agree to do it then?” hissed Raven. “You could have said no.”

  “I don’t like the idea of windows open at night when god-knows-what could climb in,” whispered Max, turning his back on Raven.

  That thought hadn’t occurred to me. I had just been happy to return the bishop’s help, but now after hearing that from Max, I had horrible images of climbing, freaky things that would sneak in through open windows. I shuddered.

  Raven leered out from under her hair. She still had Hannah’s jacket zipped up tight to her neck but not enough to cover up the thick black vein that stood out against her pale skin. Her eyes peered down at me and it was then I noticed that cloudy-red haze in them – just like before when we had been hiding in that room after Nurse Jones had been taken. I wondered if my eyes would look like that soon.

  “Here we go,” whispered the bishop, removing the padlock from the door. “Keep to your right when you go in. I’ll hold the torch behind you so you can see where you’re treading.” His voice trembled as he slowly pushed open the door. Stepping aside, the bishop ushered us in. It was pitch-black and I held my arms out.

  “Where are we going?” asked Jude. “You need to shine the torch up front, I can’t see a thing.”

  “Just keep heading straight,” hushed the bishop.

  I stepped through the door. I was the last one in except for the bishop who stood behind me waving the torch up and down.
I was about to turn around when it dawned on me that there was no wind tonight so how could the thumps be coming from the windows blowing in a breeze that didn’t exist? As I opened my mouth to question this, something in the bobbing torchlight made me gasp. I froze to the spot. The small beam of light had moved quickly over the wall and floor but not quick enough to hide an image I had tattooed in my head of the corridors at Cruor Pharma. I spun around. The bishop had already started to close the door on us.

  “No!” I screamed. “I want to get out!” I hammered my fists against the door and threw all my weight against it. “Jude, don’t go any further – it’s not safe. We’ve been tricked! Help me with the door!”

  Within an instant, Max was beside me shoving his shoulder through the gap, trying to stop the bishop from fully closing the door. Jude and Raven came up behind us and barged into me and Max – shoving and hurling as much weight as they could to stop the bishop from blocking us in.

  “I’m sorry.” The bishop’s voice came from the other side. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t let you leave.”

  “What happened? What did you see?” shouted Jude over my shoulder as we fought to keep the door open.

  “The ceiling…” I yelled. “There’s a bloody handprint on the ceiling.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  The bishop’s arm shot through the gap in the door – his hand roughly grabbed at Max’s shoulder. His fingers dug into Max’s skin as the bishop tried to shove him away from the door.

  We piled in tight, as hard as we could within the small confines of the corridor. It was like barging your way onto a packed underground train – desperate to get in first and grab a seat.

  For an old man the bishop had some strength. I wanted to get out. I didn’t want to be trapped on the third floor with whatever had crawled across the ceiling and left a bloody handprint.

  With all the commotion and pushing and shoving, the bishop had dropped the torch and I reached down and grabbed it.

  “Mind your head, Max!” I screamed, smashing the torch down over and over onto the bishop’s hand that still had hold of Max by the shoulder.

  “Open the fucking door now or I’ll rip your head off and shove it up your arse!” hollered Jude, shoulder-barging the door.

  I heard the bishop gasp as the door must have hit him in the face. But still he wouldn’t let go and continued to try to push Max back.

  “Give me the torch!” screamed Raven, snatching at it. “I can hear something.” She shone the beam of light down the corridor and it was then I saw the true horror all over the ceiling and walls. It was covered in foot and handprints – bloody and black. The corridor was empty and I swallowed down hard – momentarily relieved that we didn’t have anything coming at us from behind. I swung back to face the door.

  “Keep the torchlight on the corridor!” I screamed at Raven over the shouts and yells of Max and Jude. Someone had to watch our backs. I lunged down at the bishop’s arm and snapped my teeth into his flesh. We had to get him off of Max – weaken him somehow – and if biting down hard into his skin was the answer then I didn’t have a problem with that.

  The taste of blood filled my mouth and I heard the bishop cry out as I tore a lump of flesh from him. I spat it out and then took another bite. A second cry sounded out from the bishop.

  “I’ll eat your whole fucking arm if I have to!” I screamed, before clamping my teeth down again and digging my black twisted nails into his flesh.

  The bishop let go of Max and I released my bite. With one hard thrust, Jude and Max flung the door open ramming it into the bishop’s face. He lost his balance and toppled over. We all fell out through the open doorway and landed in a heap on top of the bishop.

  “Shut the door,” shouted Jude. “Lock it… lock it!”

  Raven pulled herself up and grabbed the handle, throwing the door shut. With shaky hands she grabbed the padlock and snapped it tight fixing it in place. She spun around and slid slowly down the door until she sat on the floor – out of breath.

  A moan came from the bishop as we piled on top of him. We untangled ourselves limb by limb to reveal the bishop lying on the floor – his face pale and scared.

  “I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Jude shouted, grabbing the bishop by his throat and pulling him to his feet.

  “No... No… please… I’m sorry…” the bishop cried out. “I was scared… I didn’t know what to do when you all turned up here at my house… I feared for my life… for Mrs. Gables… I… I…”

  “So you thought you’d end ours by locking us up in there with…”Jude started, “…with…who is it you keep in there?”

  “Alex… it’s Alex…” The bishop shook his head. His hands trembled like he had been stuck in an artic storm for hours.

  I looked at Max, now fearing that his brother, Robert, was dead. As if thinking the same thought as me, Max shoved Jude out of the way and pushed the bishop up against the wall.

  “Where’s my brother…!? Where’s Robert…? If you’ve killed him, I’ll… I’ll…,” Max stopped. A look of sudden bereavement in his eyes. He swallowed down hard and took a deep breath. “Is he dead?”

  “No… I swear it on the Bible… he got away… he escaped,” the bishop whimpered. “I tried to lock him up with Sylvia and Alex but he got away with Sylvia and I haven’t seen him since.”

  Max let go of the bishop and turned away. He leant his hand up against the wall and hung his head down, obviously relieved that Robert was still alive.

  “Why did you try to lock them up – lock us up?” snapped Jude.

  “Don’t you mean kill us?” I said, looking at Jude and then at the bishop. “To lock us up would only lead to one thing – our deaths. Anyone put in there with Alex wouldn’t last long - not if he’s like Howard or Wendy when their bodies couldn’t take VA20. And I’m guessing by the blood-stained handprints that that is exactly what Alex is like.”

  “Call yourself a holy man?” spat Jude. “You ain’t ever gonna make it to heaven. There’s only one way for you now – down – deep down where the scum exist and their flesh burns slow – you’re on a one way ticket to hell.”

  “Please… I was frightened… I thought if I let you go you would tell Doctor Middleton about me. I was scared I would end up like my priests who knew too much – dead – like Father William and Father Peter.” The bishop wiped away a tear that trickled down the wrinkles in his skin. “That’s why I said you could all stay here. I wasn’t going to lock you up – if you agreed to stay… but Mrs. Gables overheard you talking in the snug about leaving in the early hours. I had to stop you.”

  “Was it you who slashed our tyres?” hissed Raven.

  “Mrs. Gables did it,” answered the bishop. “She didn’t want any of you here, not after Alex started to change – she was scared that the same would happen to you but she also knew that we couldn’t risk letting you leave and giving us up to Doctor Middleton.”

  I looked over at Max. His Hellraiser T-shirt had been ripped at the shoulder. Everything had started to fall into place now. Mrs. Gables’s weird behaviour toward us made sense – the bishop wanting us to stay here with him made sense and now I knew whose T-shirt Max was wearing – it belonged to Alex and the Beyoncé T-shirt was probably his too. But what I didn’t understand was why Alex hadn’t made an appearance after all the noise we had made on the third floor. Having had some unfortunate experience with people injected with Doctor Middleton’s shit, I knew that they didn’t sit quiet and behave like normal human beings. They attacked. They killed. So why hadn’t Alex done the same?

  “We need to leave now,” said Jude.

  “What about the bishop?” asked Raven. “Don’t you think we should lock him up with Alex? And let’s not forget Mrs. Gables.”

  We all turned to look at the bishop. He stood cowering by the wall. His eyebrows and beard were ruffled up even more than usual after our scuffle.

  “Please, I beg you… don’t put me in there… he’s loose… broke out of his chai
ns and now I can’t even get in there…” said the bishop. “That’s why I keep the third floor padlocked now so he can’t get out. I’ve done everything I can to keep him contained – to keep him quiet. I removed all the lightbulbs upstairs because it seemed to aggravate him. He would scream and wail and go into some kind of frenzy if the lights went on. At first he was easy to manage. We kept him clean and washed his clothes – fed him – but the change got worse – he became just too unmanageable – wild.”

  Before any of us could say anything, the sound of a door could be heard opening. I looked down the staircase. It was pitch-black.

  “Mrs. Gables has come out of her room,” I whispered. I took a few steps down and listened. I wanted to confront her. I wanted to smile in her face and let her know that her evil plan to lock us up with Alex had failed. But then I remembered Raven’s crazy imagination about Mrs. Gables with a kitchen knife. It was dark down there and even though the bishop had failed to lock us up that still didn’t mean that Mrs. Gables couldn’t have another try at us. She was at an advantage. She knew the layout of this house even in the dark and we didn’t. She could jump out at us from anywhere. But there were four of us and only one of her. I looked over my shoulder and beckoned the others to follow me down. We couldn’t stay up here all night. We had to leave.

  As we reached the bottom of the stairs, Mrs. Gables came tiptoeing out from her room. She was fully dressed with a coat, shoes, and bag.

  “Going somewhere nice?” said Jude, shoving the bishop forward and shining the torch at Mrs. Gables.

  “I’m leaving,” she muttered. “I can’t stay here any longer pretending that it’s just me and the bishop who live here. I’ve had enough babysitting that thing.” Her eyes stared up at the ceiling. She took a step away from us, slowly edging her way toward the main staircase. “He’s all yours now – you can all deal with him.” Her eyes twinkled in the torchlight as she gripped the top of the banister.

  “Mrs. Gables, you can’t leave me here alone to deal with Alex – how will I ever manage him by myself?” The bishop stepped forward and held out his hands. “Please… we can think of something… we could…”