The chair rocked forward and everything was normal; Lucy was fine, laughing as she cuddled close to her mum.
Steve couldn’t move. Sickness had settled in his stomach and his hands shook.
The chair slowly rocked backward. It seemed to be mocking him, seemed to be moving in slow motion. The girl covered in blood was back, and he realized it wasn’t Lucy but someone similar. She turned to him, a gash on her cheek pouring blood. A deep, slick red slid over the pale white of her face. Her eyes pleaded for help or mercy. He rushed forward and the camera dropped to the floor and flashed. For a second, the screen showed the horrific image and then it just showed the wooden deck.
Steve grabbed Lucy from her mum’s lap and held her out in front of him. He searched her face and body for cuts and for blood.
Lucy laughed, delighted to be scooped up into the air, but her daddy’s expression was frightening.
“Daddy, put me down.”
Steve continued to search for any sign of a wound. “Sweetie, are you all right?”
“Yes, want to go rock.”
“No, you keep out of that damn chair.” He was holding her away from him, his grip too hard.
“Daddy, you’re hurting me.” She started to cry.
Lauren pulled the girl into her arms and comforted her gently against her shoulder, her hand stroking her hair. She gave Steve a look. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“I saw ...” His face showed his confusion. What had he seen? “Something’s not right here. I keep seeing things. Horrible things, things that no dad should ever have to see.”
Lauren had her back to Steve. As she comforted Lucy, an evil smile appeared on her face. “Now who’s having problems? Maybe it’s you who needs to see a doctor.”
“No, what I saw is real. I took a picture.” He reached for the camera and flicked through the images. Desperation ruled his face; the only picture was Lucy and her mum, rocking.
Lauren snatched the camera. “This is lovely. Is this what you saw?”
“No. Lucy was bleeding. It was there. I saw ... something.”
Lauren laughed a mocking, cruel sound. “Maybe you’re the one suffering from stress?” She turned away from him, a vindictive expression on her face.
Steve dropped to the floor and leaned against the cabin. “Maybe, but there’s one thing I do know. I want out of here today.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
Steve looked around. “Where’s Chase?”
“He’s been a naughty boy. I locked him in his room.” Lauren turned to face him, a sneer on her usually beautiful face.
Steve jumped up and ran to Chase’s room.
Chapter 23
Steve raced to the door. Closed like finality, it blocked his path, but the key was in the lock. He reached out a hand, desperate to see what was in the room but afraid beyond belief. The wood was coarse against his fingers as he opened the door slowly, his heart in his throat.
Chase sat on his bed unharmed, but he looked hurt and dejected; a book lay ignored across his lap.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” he said as Steve entered the room.
“What for?” Steve asked the question without thinking, the relief that Chase was unharmed hitting him by surprise.
“For upsetting Mum ... I don’t know what I did ... honest.”
“Forget it, son. I don’t think you did anything. Now get your boots.” He wanted to hug Chase, to tell him everything was all right, but he felt he was running out of time. Something told him they had to get out of there fast. Leaving Chase to prepare, he walked back to the kitchen.
Lauren stood next to the knife rack, and Lucy sat at the table, bouncing Bunkie across its smooth wooden surface. Her smile was carefree, her joy genuine.
Steve grabbed his rucksack and began piling in food and bottled water. He grabbed Lucy’s arm, disturbing her play as he pulled her from the chair.
Big blue eyes looked up at him filled with confusion. Then she grinned and it was like an ocean of love. Steve wanted nothing but to keep her safe, to keep her happy, and he knew what he was planning would upset her badly. With a nod, he pulled his gaze away; he had to be strong. He looked at Lauren. “You coming?”
“Where?”
“Back to the pass. I’m getting us out of here today.”
Chase groaned behind him, and Lucy tried to go back to the chair.
“It’s too far; they can stay with me,” Lauren said, moving toward Lucy.
Steve put himself in between them and pulled Lucy back to him. “No way. Kids, now.”
Steve herded the kids out of the cabin. A hand seemed to have gripped his stomach as his fear grew by the minute. Somehow he knew they must get away now, that if they didn’t, something awful would happen.
Lauren followed, and he hoped that she would come with them. She had been so much better away from the cabin, away from the chair. He turned. “Come with us.” It could be her only hope. The thought crossed his mind, but he shook it away. The pumpkins had to come first.
She was leaning against the door, looking different, old fashioned, but also the same. Though he really wanted her to come, he would not leave the kids.
“No, Lucy and Chase can stay with me. It’s too far,” she said again.
Lucy moved to walk to her mum, but Steve kept a firm grasp on her hand. She looked up at him, the glance accusatory, but he held his ground. “Lauren, please. It’s not safe here,” Steve pleaded as they stepped off the deck.
She walked toward him; his heart soared. She was coming.
“The kids stay. You can’t expect them to do that walk again.”
“Can we, Daddy?” Lucy asked.
“No.” He sounded angry, desperate. “Come with us, Lauren.”
“I’m happy here.” She looked from him to the chair. Her eyes were wide and uncertain, almost lost.
Steve tried one more time. “I want you to come, but if you stay, you’re staying alone.”
Anger flashed across her face, and her eyes turned icy cold. “You force me to stay here. Every day I see people outside, happy, while I’m locked in here. Why?”
“What? I don’t know what you mean ... Look, Lauren. Come, please.” He reached out to her, his hand pleading. He didn’t want to leave her, but they had to move soon.
She seemed drawn to the chair. She sat down and started to rock gently.
Steve took one last look and pointed the children across the grass toward the trail. “We’ll be back for you,” he shouted as they set off.
She rocked gently, her hair growing shorter and straighter as they walked across the grass before the lake. As they disappeared into the trees, her face had a knowing smile.
The journey proceeded with less joy than the previous day. Lucy sat on Steve’s shoulders, unusually quiet, and the weight was telling on him. Each step took its toll and his legs were almost as heavy as his dream. Before long his back and chest ached.
Chase took point, but his steps were slower. They were all tired. “Let’s take a break.” Steve dropped Lucy to the lush grass and eased off his pack.
Gratefully, they all sat on a grassy bank beside the stream. Water splashed in the air as it cascaded over the rocks, forming tiny rainbows in the morning sunshine. The bubbling sound soothed their nerves and eased away the tension, but none of them took any joy from this moment of wonder.
“What did I do wrong?” Chase asked.
“I don’t know, sunshine. I think maybe your mum got the wrong idea.”
“I want to go home,” Chase said. “I’m not moaning or nothing, but this holiday’s no fun anymore.”
“That’s why we’re walking.” Steve ruffled his hand through Chase’s unruly hair.
Inside the cabin, Lauren flicked through her recipe book. She adjusted the scarf around her neck and turned another page, before running her fingers through her fifties’ bob hair style.
Her eyes were cold, hungry, and her face twisted into a manic grin. She hummed as she picked up a kitc
hen knife. Turning it over before her eyes, the steel caught the light and flashed it back at her. There was tension in her lips as if she wanted to let it go but couldn’t. Like the Joker, the smile was forced onto her face and it seemed she had no choice but to keep it there.
Occasionally she would glance at the open door and the chair framed in it; like a mother checking on her baby, she needed to keep it in sight. She began to sing.
“Shush, little kiddies, you’re gonna cry. Mummy’s gonna stab you in the eye.”
She raised the knife above her head and stabbed it down deep into the recipe book. The steel slipped through the hard cover and the book’s pages like they were warm butter. It entered the hard wood of the oak table for a half inch and stopped, pinning the book to the table.
Steve and the kids arrived at the top of the pass. It was cloudy today, and mist hung heavy and cold on the hilltop. He put Lucy down and breathed a sigh of relief. Taking off the pack, he handed out a couple of chocolate bars. “You two did great.”
They grinned through mouthfuls of chocolate. Lauren would have remembered tissues.
“Back in two minutes.” He walked the last few steps to the top of the hill and pulled the phone from his pocket. The view was still magnificent. A low mist hung like wet clouds across the valley. Treetops poked through in places, the green of the pine and oaks was mystical against the smoky white mist, and in other areas the mist was sparse and he could see the grass and the stream beneath it.
He switched on the phone and waited. Annoyance crossed his face when nothing happened. He shook the phone and tried turning it off and back on again. Panic clawed away at his gut, fighting to scramble up his esophagus and out of his mouth. He bit down hard and shook the phone. Nothing.
“Dad, what’s wrong?” Chase asked.
“Nothing.” Steve was crushed. He undid the back of the phone and took out the battery; the Sim card was missing. “Bitch.” He stared out over the forest. The mist was clearing slowly, but all he could see was forest and heather. There was no sign of habitation. “You bitch. You mean, evil bitch. How could you?” He screamed his frustration at the forest before falling to the ground where he sat with his head in his hands, rocking backward and forward, much like the rocking chair. He was lost. Defeated.
He felt warmth against his side as Lucy cuddled up next to him. “You okay, Daddy?” she asked.
He pulled her to him, taking comfort that she was unharmed. He was exhausted but they were still okay; he would get them out of here. “Daddy’s phone’s not working. Chase, have ...”
“Left it at home.” Chase sat down on the grass, and the three of them joined in a hug, taking solace from each other.
Steve knew he must be strong for the children, but it had been two long days of walking, and he was more scared than he dared to admit. They had little choice left and would have to return to the cabin with no means of escape. A slimy sickness settled in his gut, holding him down and draining the little energy he had left.
Chapter 24
Lauren hummed to herself as she rolled out the smooth cream pastry. Catching her reflection in the window, she gave a smile. Everything was perfect, her hair nicely curled under, her neat skirt and blouse protected with a pretty flowered apron. Taking her time, she pushed the heavy marble rolling pin back and forth, back and forth until the batter was beyond perfection.
With a flourish, she placed a pie dish beneath as she lifted the batter expertly. The pastry formed to the sides of the dish and with a thin, sharp knife she trimmed off the excess, spinning the dish to complete the task.
“Shush, little babies, don’t you whine,” she sang in a voice that seemed deeper and coarser than her normal one. She placed the pie on the surface and reached into the pocket of her apron. With a smile, she pulled out the mobile Sim card and placed it on a wooden chopping board. She slammed it with a steak hammer and the blows caused the board to jump from the surface; the Sim almost bounced off. This enraged her, and she pounded the Sim over and over before calmly adding it to the pie.
She sang in tune to “Mockingbird”: “Shush, little pumpkins, don’t you cry. Daddy won’t kill you, but will I?”
Steve stood at the top of the pass, with one child holding each hand. He stared out at the vista before him. The fog had cleared, and the view was spectacular, but the more he looked, the worse he felt. They had nowhere to go, they were surrounded by miles and miles of rough countryside, and that was only to get back to the cabin. He breathed in; he had to do something, had to get them out of here.
Over the trees, he could see the lake. It glistened in the sunlight, a sign of hope, but he felt only despair. Looking down, he felt hope; Lucy had stopped giggling a long time ago. She was subdued and tired, but he was proud of her. The children had been so good that he felt ashamed of his own meltdown. He knew they were tired, and he needed to decide what to do.
“Let’s walk to town.” Lucy looked up with her big blue eyes. They captured his soul and squeezed his heart.
Chase caught his dad’s eye. He knew how far it was, given that it was over 30 minutes in the car. “We could, Dad. I don’t like the cabin anymore.”
Steve felt a rush of pride; his two children had stayed strong when he wanted to sit down and cry. He thought about it. “It’s a few hours back to the cabin. It will be nearly dark and you two will be exhausted.”
Chase punched his dad’s stomach and laughed. “Yeah, I’m already exhausted.”
Lucy tugged at his sleeve. “But can we?”
Steve pulled her close. “We’ll see. Now the tree spotting game. First one to ten gets a treat.”
Lucy jumped on the spot but not with her normal enthusiasm. She pulled her dad down to her and he hardly heard, “Can you help me?”
He laughed, and they set off down the trail. “Hoak.” He pointed at a large oak tree.
Lauren slid the pie into the already toasty oven. It looked magnificent. She had basted the pastry with egg and cut out flower shapes to decorate the top. She smiled, but it seemed out of control, almost as if the smile was not hers and she was trying to stop it.
She took off her apron and ran a hand through her shoulder-length hair, curling it into a bob as she did. She looked perfect, a woman from a different era, only her manic eyes spoiling the picture.
She went to a paper rack by the door and picked up the paper Steve had picked up at the rest stop on their way. She put it under her arm. It showed a picture of her as she looked now. The headline was: “Evil Val - Killer of 20+ Dies in Rocker.”
In a trance, she walked out of the cabin and toward the chair. She seemed to be struggling with herself. One step forward, and then her expression would change to one of horror and she would stop, almost frozen in place. Then her head would tilt like a cute puppy, looking at something exciting as she stared at the rocker.
Like a pre-Romero zombie, she stumbled and stuttered her way to the chair. It started to rock, slowly, gently, pulling her to it. Robotically, she sat down and tossed the paper onto the deck. It landed front page up and a woman, Valerie Munardo, stared back. It was Lauren from a different time ... Lauren as she looked now.
The chair rocked gently, and Lauren, now Val, relaxed back into it. She was at peace, simply resting after a hard day. The sun was setting behind the cabin as the chair rocked gently, and Lauren was bathed blood-red by the sunset.
As the chair rocked backward, the paper flicked to a different page; it showed a young girl, and the word victim seemed to leap out of the print.
The chair rocked forward, and as it rocked back again, Lauren became the girl. She was twenty and pretty, with a pixie face made for laughter. She had big brown eyes and long brown hair, and she wore a flowery dress that spoke of summer. Terrified, her eyes almost popped from her head, and her body was forced hard into the chair, as if she hoped she could disappear through the back of it.
The chair rocked forward; Lauren/Val sat in the chair, their eyes closed in ecstasy.
The cha
ir rocked back. The young girl reappeared. Her hands were tied to the chair’s arms. She fought for her life against the ropes that held her, and as she struggled, they sliced into her pale wrists.
Blood oozed from beneath the rope, but there was no hope. She could not pull free. In desperation, she shook her head and tried to free her upper body. Her brown hair tossed in the wind like a mane as she struggled to escape, but she was held tight and defeated she leaned back against the chair. Blood ran down her perfect cheeks to drip from her chin and spot the pretty dress.
The chair rocked forward. Val rode it to the apex and then leaned back, a smug expression on her hateful face.
The chair rocked back, and a six-inch rusty steel nail appeared above the girl’s left hand. Terror lit her eyes, and she screamed a silent scream. The nail jerked through her hand, as if knocked by an invisible hammer. As the chair slowly completed its travel, the nail found the wood. Blood streamed over her wrist and splashed the flowered dress as the nail traveled deeper.
The chair rocked forward. Val sat, her eyes closed. She was clean, pristine, and happy.
The paper fluttered on the deck, changing to another page.
Chase led the way as they made their long journey back to the cabin. He seemed to trudge, rather than walk, and his eyes were kept straight forward. The magic of the forest no longer held any appeal.
It was getting late, and Steve knew it would be dark before they made it back to the comfort of the cabin. They had to rest frequently, for Chase and him, but mostly for Lucy.
He was carrying her at the moment, but it was no longer a joy; she was heavier than he remembered and he was feeling a little winded. He prayed that it was just the exertion and that his heart would be fine, at least until he got the children to safety. “Let’s take another break,” he said, and set Lucy down next to a tree.
Daddy Won't Kill You- The Haunting in the Woods Page 11