“Daddy, I’m scared ... but I think I’m okay. I thought you were d ... de ... dead.”
She clung to his neck as if she would never let go. Huge sobs rocked her against him. He held her close, pulling in deep breaths to try and lower his pulse, and for just a moment he closed his eyes.
CRASH.
The ax hit the windscreen. It penetrated four inches through the glass, shattering the screen. Tiny fragments of glass showered across them as the ax was pulled clear.
Steve scooted across the seat and exited out the other side, grabbing Lucy with him.
Lauren slammed the ax at the car, smashing a headlight, and ran around to follow them.
Steve grabbed Lucy and headed back to the cabin. It looked so pretty, all lit up in the dark. It looked welcoming and safe, but he doubted it would be. He could hear Lauren behind them. Her breathing was ragged as she raced after them. He could almost feel her breath on his neck, and the hair there rose in trepidation.
She swung the ax.
It whistled past his ear; he ducked and pushed for more speed, but he was tiring. His chest ached, and his legs felt like lead. Lucy bounced in his arms and made running harder, he knew she would catch them soon as they zigzagged back towards the cabin.
“You bastard,” she screamed, and swung the ax at him.
He ducked left, and it fell short.
She overbalanced and went down on one knee.
Steve spurted ahead. His feet pounded the ground as he gave it every ounce of fight he had. He made it to the deck and ran to the cabin, his feet pounding on the wooden boards which gave with each footfall and seemed to push him on his way. He made it and pulled on the door. Heavy footsteps were gaining on him. He opened the door and fell through, slamming it closed behind him.
Chapter 35
Steve burst into the cabin that was a haven of light, but it stung his tender eyes, and he blinked rapidly. He slammed his shoulder into the wood, forcing it closed and was overcome with panic. There was no way they were getting out of here.
The door rammed into the frame, and before he could reach for the lock, it was pounded by the ax. It cleaved through the door, sending splinters across his shoulders and into his neck.
“Shit.”
He tried to reach the lock, but the ax was pulled free and crashed down again. The door shook and this time the blade caught his shoulder. Icy-hot pain seared his muscles, and he screamed. Even so, he jammed his battered back against the door and pushed with all he had.
Sweat was running down his back and his forehead. How could this be happening? He wanted to open the door to reason with Lauren, but it was not her, and he had to keep this thing away from his children. The sweat stung as it dripped into his eyes, but he could not move away.
“Lucy, go under me. Keep back, but turn the key.”
The ax was wrenched free, and fresh splinters stung as they splattered his cheeks.
Lucy stood frozen, her eyes so wide they seemed to fill her face. She was chewing her thumb and shaking.
The urge to comfort her, to hold her in his arms and tell her everything was okay was overwhelming, but he needed to make it safe first. Bending around, Steve tried to turn the lock, but he couldn’t reach the key and keep the pressure on the door at the same time.
“I just want to bake a bloody pie,” Lauren screamed from the deck. The ax smashed into the door, rattling the wood against Steve’s back, and splinters of wood flew across his head and landed on the floor before him. The lights went off, and the cabin plunged into darkness. Steve felt the slimy hand of terror crawl up his spine, but he had to stay strong. He pushed back against the door.
“Little piggy, little piggy, let me in. I’m gonna chop off your chinny chin chin.” She cackled like a witch just before the ax smashed into the door again.
Steve knew he couldn’t hold it much longer. He tried to catch Lucy’s eyes, but she was lost in her own terror, so small and vulnerable. She stood with her hands clasped together, her head down as if she wanted to be small and invisible; there was no way he could reach her. He stretched down just as Chase appeared and ducked under his arm, turning the lock.
Steve moved clear. He rubbed his shoulder, and his hand came away covered in blood. It didn’t matter; he pulled Chase into his arms, and they hugged. Knowing the boy was still safe and so brave gave him courage. The ax hit the door, and huge chunks of wood bounced onto them. Steve wanted to pull Lucy to him, to offer comfort and support, but for now there was no time.
“Grab the table,” Steve said.
Their eyes were becoming accustomed to the dark, and both hauled the table onto its end and jammed it in front of the door.
The ax hit again, sinking deep into the wood. It shook the cabin and sent splinters of wood flying into the table.
Steve picked Lucy up and held her to his chest. She was shaking and making small mewling noises like a frightened kitten. He rocked her gently, watching the table bounce each time the door was assaulted. They had to get out of here, had to make it safer, but what could they do? Then he remembered and hit his head with his fist, turning his back away from the smashing wood.
“What?” Chase asked.
“Radio. There’s an emergency radio in the cellar.” He could see the hope in the boy’s eyes. He wanted to believe they were safe, but so far she had been one step in front of them at every turn. “It’s not been used in years.”
The ax hit the door, shaking the table and splintering off more wood.
“Will it work?” Chase asked.
Steve pulled the kids close. “You bet.”
The lights came on, chasing away the shadows and bringing a greater sense of hope. The chopping stopped. The silence was a palpable thing.
Steve walked to the window and looked out. Val sat in the rocking chair, the ax forgotten across her knee. She rocked backward and forward, her eyes closed, so relaxed she could be asleep.
Steve felt a surge of faith; this was their chance. They had to get to that radio while she was in the chair. Maybe the Val thing needed to recharge.
If so, fight it, Lauren. We need your help.
“Stay with me,” he said and walked around the cabin. He made sure the windows were closed and where he could, put furniture against them. It was not enough to stop her if she really tried but it might slow her down.
Back in the kitchen he could see the fear that the children were trying to hide. Chase had an arm around Lucy, and he gritted his teeth. Steve could see tears building in his eyes, but he was acting strong for Lucy.
Lucy was still making little whimpering sounds, and she shook against Chase.
The boy held her to him; he gently stroked her hair and smiled at his dad. He had been both resourceful and brave, and Lucy had been through so much it hurt him to think about it. The worst torture for any man is to see his children suffer, and Steve knew the hell they had been through together. Pride and love lifted him and gave him courage; they would survive. He pulled them close and made them a promise. “I will keep you safe.”
In the hallway just before the kitchen was a hatch that led into the fruit cellar. He smiled at the children and opened it up. Narrow stairs led down into a dark and fearsome hole.
Lucy started to cry.
Steve sat down and pulled her to him. He held her close and whispered into her hair, “It’s all okay. We’re going to be fine.”
She was shaking against his shoulder. He brushed her hair from her face and looked into her big tearful eyes. “Everything’s all right. Trust Daddy.”
She nodded. Her lips quivered, but she was fighting for control.
“Now follow close behind me.” He pushed her away and stepped into the hole.
Lucy shrieked out her fear.
Steve looked at her terrified face. He didn’t want to leave the kids, but Chase had pulled his sister to one side and was hugging her close. He nodded at his dad.
“If anything happens, come down to me.”
Chase nodded. The
terror was apparent in his fathomless brown eyes, but he would be strong for Lucy.
Steve wanted to hug him, both of them, once more. Wanted to tell them how proud he was and hold them close until they felt safe, but he knew time was short. With one last look, he stepped down and headed into the cellar.
A quick pull on a threadbare cord and a dull light feebly lit the middle of the room but left the outside in deep shadow. It seemed a long way down and he took each step cautiously on the narrow stairs. Though he needed to hurry, he must be cautious, the treads were rickety and his legs were as stiff as broomsticks.
As he reached the bottom, a cobweb trickled across his face, its sticky tendrils clinging to him. Steve flapped at it, brushing the hateful thing away with almost hysterical fear.
Calm down, it’s nothing.
A shadow crossed behind him. His pulse kicked up a beat as he turned, expecting someone to be lurking there. The shadow seemed to shrink away. Was he hallucinating? Exhaustion and pain were taking their toll. He peered into the gloom. There was nothing, but somehow the darkness seemed a little darker.
Then the darkness moved and crept slowly toward him, like a smoke cloud as black as death.
He stepped back, reaching out to push it away, but his hands touched nothing but cold. He slid his feet back across the dusty floor, and the cold darkness followed. Further, he stepped, never taking his eyes off the murky depths. Back and back it pushed him, across the dirt floor of the cellar. A cobweb clawed at his face. He grabbed at it, swiping his hands almost with hysteria. Back he walked as the blackness advanced.
It pushed him all the way to the dust- and cobweb-encrusted cellar wall. He grabbed his chest as pain caused him to gasp but still the evil darkness came forward. It forced him into the wall and held him unable to move as the cool slickness of it pressed him back against the bricks of the cellar. The rugged wall dug into his shoulders. Fear sapped his strength; he couldn’t struggle, and the cold froze his muscles. Despair weighed heavily on him and he was ready to give in. For a moment his knees gave way, but the cold darkness held him upright.
He blinked as shapes appeared in the mist. It was Lauren as a teenager. No, it was Val.
Steve watched as the smoke cleared in places, giving him a look into the past. A spiteful-looking man appeared in the mist and knocked Val to the floor, in front of the chair. She cowered before him as he kicked her again and again. Curled on the floor, she tried to protect herself, but the assault continued until she was still. The chair rocked in the background.
Steve gasped at each punch and kick, almost feeling them physically. He watched as the man laughed and then walked into the darkness and was gone. The mist swirled and Val was back, older now; it could be Lauren just a couple of years ago. The man appeared behind her. He hit her hard, knocking her to the ground. He fastened a chain around her waist and kicked her before walking back into nothing.
The dark swirled again. Val was back, but much older, maybe 55. The man appeared; he was angry again. Val handed him a drink, an evil smile on her face. The man sat in the rocking chair and drank; his face contorted with agony and then he was still.
Steve grabbed for his chest as pain shocked through him, and somewhere outside, Val started to sing.
“Shush, little pumpkins, don’t you sigh.”
“Dad, you okay?” Chase shouted from the stairs.
The voice brought Steve back to the present. He bit down the pain and pushed forward into the dark. “I’m good,” he shouted. “Stay there.”
He pushed and forced against the dark, gritting down hard and putting his shoulder against the mass. He moved a few inches from the wall. The dark was pushing back. It froze his muscles, but he was angry now, and he forced against it with thunder in his eyes and a renewed vigor.
It shrank away, and he stumbled forward, hitting the ground. “Thank you,” he said.
From outside, Val sang, “Mummy’s gonna stab you in the eye.”
Steve closed his eyes. It was too much; he couldn’t take it.
“Dad,” Chase called.
Steve got up and looked around. “I’m okay. You two sound?”
“Lucy Lockett lost her pocket,” Lucy said, her voice faltering on the words.
Steve smiled. He could see the radio. “And Kitty Fisher found it,” Steve sang. “Chase.”
Chase’s voice quivered only slightly, “And not a penny was there in it.”
Lucy finished, sounding a lot better, “But the lining round it.” She giggled at good memories.
From outside, Val sang, “And if that eye don’t really hurt.”
Steve ran for the radio and grabbed it from the shelf, noticing other items, like a camouflage net and a fuel can. He headed to the stairs.
“Mummy’s gonna bury you in the dirt,” Val sang.
Steve was almost at the stairs when he fell. He hit the dirt floor hard, and the radio dug painfully into his chest. He scooted over onto his back, but nothing was behind him. He lay back, relieved.
“Dad,” Chase shouted.
Steve looked up the stairs. Chase was peering over the edge, about to come down. “I’m here, and I have it,” Steve called.
He could hear Val laughing. It was an evil sound, like an old witch, and she sounded so close.
“So, shush, little Lucy, don’t you cry,” Val sang. “Daddy won’t kill you, but will I?”
Steve bolted for the stairs, pounding up them two at a time, and pulled the kids into his arms. He slammed the door to the cellar and pulled a wooden shoebox over the cover.
Chapter 36
Steve guided the kids into Lucy’s bedroom and sat them on the pink bedspread with My Little Pony pillows stacked against the headboard. Her slippers were little pink ponies, and they were tucked neatly under the bed, a magazine of some boyband open on the bedside table. Outside, they could hear the chair rocking back and forward. Val was singing quietly; the noise grated on their nerves.
“I want Mummy to stop,” Lucy pleaded.
Steve hugged them close for just a second. They felt so good, and he didn’t want to let go, but he must get help. He pulled away and plugged in the radio. It powered up, and he gave the kids a big smile. The feeling of joy at such a basic thing was wonderful. They would make it.
Steve twirled the frequency knob and the radio sent back static until he found a local emergency frequency. He prayed silently that he remembered the right one. He closed his eyes and spoke into the mic. “This is Steve Scott at the old Parker cabin. We need emergency evacuation. Can anyone hear me?”
He waited. The radio sent back static, nothing but static. He had a vision of old movies and the static that ghosts sent.
Lucy’s lips started to tremble, and her eyes filled with tears.
“It doesn’t mean they didn’t hear,” Chase said, his voice hopeful.
Steve nodded and tried again. “This is an SOS at the old Parker cabin. Please, can anyone hear me? Please come, we need help.” Steve released the mic and the radio hissed static at him. He felt his heart drop, but he had to keep trying. “I have two children and I need help. If anyone can hear me, please answer.”
Static.
He threw the mic at the radio and slumped down onto the floor. His chest and left arm ached, and he was so exhausted he couldn’t face anymore. He leaned against the bed. Despondency was like a lead blanket holding him down. There was nothing he could do. He had let Lauren down when he lost his job and now he was letting the kids down. He couldn’t save them.
Lucy started to cry, and he pulled her down and hugged her to him.
Chase picked up the mic. “This is Chase Scott. Anyone who can hear, please send help. He released the mic; static hissed back at him like an angry snake. He keyed it again; determination wrinkled his forehead. “We are at the old Parker/Scott cabin, the nearest place to the trailhead. If you can hear this, please come and help. Or send the police.”
Steve got up and sat Lucy to one side of him, Chase on the other. His pride
for the strength Chase was demonstrating filled him with new hope and energy. They would get out of this. He had an idea. It was a long shot and was dangerous, but there was nothing else to do.
“I’m going back to the cellar.”
“No, Daddy. No,” Lucy said, her lips quivering with fear.
“I have a plan. You two stay here and Chase, keep talking. Someone will hear.” He pulled them close. “I’m the proudest dad in the whole world, and I love you more than life. Now put the radio on the floor over there.”
He got up and Chase moved the radio. Once they were all up, Steve tipped the bed onto its end. Despite the pain in his arm, he pushed it until it blocked the window.
He grabbed a couple of the pink pony pillows and pretended to throw one at Lucy.
The sound of her giggles was reward and inspiration. Passing the kids the pillows, he walked to the door, Chase and Lucy huddled around the CB radio. “Lock yourself in.”
“Daddy.” Lucy clutched the pony to her as she fought back her tears.
“Everything’s good, sweetie.”
“Dad, you said we can’t hurt Mum?” Chase asked.
“I would never hurt your mum, but that thing out there ... that is not Lauren ... but we will get her back. I promise.” Steve stepped out of the room before his courage left him.
Chase locked the door and went back to the radio. “Come on, Lucy Lockett. Let’s get Dad some help.”
Chapter 37
Steve pulled the bedroom door closed as gently as he could and waited to hear the key turn in the lock. They were safe for now, but leaving them was the hardest thing he had ever done. It was almost a physical pain to wrench himself away from the room and leave them to the mercies of Lauren but he knew he had to, and the quicker the better.
The hallway was shrouded in darkness, with just a faint luminescence from the kitchen lighting his way. He reached for the light switch but stopped; it might draw Val’s attention to the cabin.
Daddy Won't Kill You- The Haunting in the Woods Page 16