Paranormal After Dark

Home > Other > Paranormal After Dark > Page 72
Paranormal After Dark Page 72

by Rebecca Hamilton


  Levi pressed his face against her shoulder and whimpered quietly. “It is like a grave down here.”

  “Don’t say that, Levi.” Her voice wavered as she wrapped her arm around him and pulled him close. “We’re safe. We’re protected.”

  “We’re going to die down here, aren’t we?”

  A blast rumbled through the ground. She ruffled Levi’s sweaty hair and recited, “Lord, how are they increased that trouble me! Many are they that rise up against me. Many there be which say of my soul, there is no help for him in God. But thou, O Lord, art a shield for me; my glory, and the lifter up of mine head. I cried unto the Lord with my voice, and he heard me out of his holy hill. I laid me down and slept; I awaked; for the Lord sustained me. I will not be afraid of ten thousands of people, that have set themselves against me round about. Arise, O Lord; save me, O my God: for thou has smitten all mine enemies upon the cheekbone; thou hast broken the teeth of the ungodly. Salvation belongeth unto the Lord; thy blessing is upon thy people.”

  Levi sighed and set his mouth in a thin line. “I don’t think God can hear us from down here. Not with all the crashing and bashing of artillery.”

  “I should think,” Adelaide squeezed him gently, “that is when He can hear us the most.”

  * * *

  THREE HOURS LATER, the shelling stopped. It didn’t end abruptly, but trailed off slowly with a few bursts subsiding into silence. It reminded Adelaide of a storm, almost out of earshot but still able to rumble across the sky in a last, weak show of fury.

  Their house, those around them in the Ferry Lot, and the Armory buildings seemed unscathed. However, she could see a deep, gaping hole in the row house roof next to the Harper House. She wondered if anyone had been upstairs when the shell smashed through the brick. She prayed they hadn’t been, but she knew better. Harpers Ferry was marked. They were all targets of the scourge.

  “Do you remember what we were doing two years ago?” Sarah shifted Lizzie to her other hip. “October sixteenth.”

  The memories crushed down on Adelaide like a heavy weight. Of course she remembered. “Brown’s Raid.”

  “Maybe he was right. Maybe this land can only be purged with blood.”

  Adelaide looked away. If only her sister knew.

  Chapter 21

  December 1861

  HARPERS FERRY WAS left a husk. There was enough housing for well over two thousand people, but nearly nine-tenths of the buildings were empty. Adelaide felt like she had lived a thousand lifetimes in a few short months. She had watched good people loot their neighbor’s houses, innocent citizens hauled away to prison, and their own Confederate soldiers sink so low as to steal a grave marker from the cemetery. What use was a tombstone? Was it some sick reminder of their desolate valley? Or how the damn Reb Army killed that part of Virginia?

  It was almost Christmas and the war didn’t seem like it was anywhere close to ending. They’d stopped saying it, even in jest. What hope was there? It was supposed to be a short war, the Rebs would whip the Yankees…but more and more, reports seemed to show they weren’t ready to give up the South. She determined the scourge hadn’t taken full effect yet. The souls trickled into town, lumbering and staggering, but there was still not constant flow.

  It made her nervous.

  She tucked a heavier quilt around her bed and carefully smoothed it out. The air was crisp and cold. In the summer months, the cool breeze never seemed to make its way into the house, but in the winter, they couldn’t keep it out. As she straightened, she stared out the window facing the Armory complex and frowned. The curtain was lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. She picked it up and reached to fasten it back in place, only to find the rope gone.

  She stormed out to the kitchen and glared at her older brother. “What did you do with the bedroom curtain? No, never mind the curtain. Where’s the rope?”

  He took a sip from his mug. “I took it, just like I did from all the windows.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I sold it. We needed food and we needed money to get it.”

  Adelaide threw her arms in the air. “Who wants to buy rope? People don’t have money to buy food, why waste it on rope?”

  “I sold it to some guys from a Pennsylvania battalion.” Robert was calm, like there was nothing out of the ordinary with what he’d done. “Then I sold some more to some guys down here from Martinsburg.”

  Adelaide stared at him. “Why would soldiers buy rope from you?”

  “Because I cut it up and told them it was the rope that hung old John Brown.”

  She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She stared at him, stunned, for several moments before stammering, “That’s dishonest. You damned liar.”

  “They bought it.” Robert shrugged. “Hey, if you don’t want to eat food purchased with dishonest money, you’re more than welcome to get your own.”

  “What am I supposed to hang the curtains on?” Adelaide shoved her hands into her apron pocket and then slammed them back on her hips. “You know those Rebs on Maryland Heights will shoot at lights in the windows. You’re putting us at risk?”

  “I did what I had to do.”

  Adelaide was tired of hearing him say that. He always thought he was right, regardless of what his choices were or who he hurt in the process. They were always wrong; inferior to him. He had no idea how strong a woman she was, how she put herself at risk to protect the town. She was a Sin-Eater. She was strong, she was smart and agile. And no man—especially not a daft fool like Robert—was going to make her feel like she was worthless.

  There was nothing in the house she could use to hang up the curtains, she was sure of it. They didn’t even have locks and bolts on the doors anymore: the Rebs had come in and taken everything for scrap metal. If it hadn’t been for the damned Confederate Army, she would have still had the curtain rods. It’s your part of The Cause, they had reasoned, You’re helping free us from Northern aggression. It didn’t matter what anyone thought, they took it anyway. She didn’t even care about restoring the Union or the Southern Freedom anymore. She just wanted it all to go away. Let the scourge end, let the souls be taken. She wanted to be in Thomas’s arms, to be more worried about not getting pregnant than the fear of not surviving another day.

  “Who do you think you are? Poppa? Fine, just fine. You know, don’t even worry about it. I’ll rip apart our cage crinolines. We’ll use the steel to hang the curtains.” She wanted to hit him with something. Or spit at him. Christ, he acted like the only person he cared for was himself. She’d slam the door to punctuate her distain of him; she’d prefer if his hand was caught squarely in the closure.

  “Addy, look, I’m sorry.” Robert caught her wrist and yanked her back. “There are some brooms down in the shop. I’ll cut the bristles off and you can hang the curtains on the handles. Then we’ll tack the sides down with a few nails. It’s not ideal, but…but no one is buying brooms right now and it just makes sense.”

  “You sound like you’ve given it a lot of thought.”

  He sighed. “You’re an impatient child, never hearing me out. Do you really think that I would let you and Sarah get shot through the windows?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past you.”

  “Who would cook for me? Annie Frankel’s gone and Rebekah probably can’t even find her way to the kitchen, let alone properly construct a meal.”

  Adelaide managed a smile, but before she could speak, a loud pounding on the back door broke the jovial atmosphere. Panic flushed down her breast bone; she stiffened. A knock wasn’t a welcome sound. People weren’t venturing outside these days, not with the constant threat of being shot, and the armies had already picked their house clean. What was left?

  Robert stared at the door, he brow knitted in a frown. “Who could that possibly be?”

  “Don’t answer it.” She grabbed his arm, trying to keep him still. “Maybe they’ll just go away.”

  He pried her fingers from his arm, pushing her away from him. “Some
one finds an empty house, they just stroll on in and steal what’s left behind.”

  She cautiously followed him, her curiosity getting the better of her, but she lingered a few steps back. “What if they—”

  He held up a hand to silence her. Leaning over the table barricading the door, he sternly called, “State your business.”

  A muffled voice answered. “It’s Mr. MacGrogan. I have something for you.”

  Robert turned his head slightly and exchanged a glance with Adelaide. She shrugged. She was less versed in dealing with matters of the living: if it was a specter at the door, she’d be ready with her pocket watch. Out of habit, she reached her hand into her pocket and touched the cool metal. Be alert. Be cautious. And always be attuned to Those we can’t see.

  After hesitating a moment, Robert shoved the table back, but only enough for the door to open a crack. The cold air seeped through the narrow opening and bit at Adelaide’s exposed cheeks. She shivered.

  Mr. MacGrogan slid an envelope through the crack. “My son sent some letters through friends on the other side of the river. He sent this along with it.”

  Before Robert could study the envelope, MacGrogan was gone. Adelaide didn’t blame him: it was foolish to be wandering around the Ferry Lot, especially with the pot shots the Rebs were taking at them—their own people.

  After he pushed the table back into place, Robert held the envelope into the light and studied the front. His eyes immediately widened. “It’s from Luke.”

  She dashed to his side. “Luke? Sarah, Levi, come quickly! Luke wrote us a letter!”

  Sarah and Levi thundered down the hallway, huddling around Robert as he carefully ripped the envelope open. He slid the paper out and unfolded it. As he did, a neatly stacked wad of greenbacks slipped out and almost fell to the floor.

  Sarah snatched it up. “Look at it all. There must be thirty dollars here!”

  “What does the letter say? Read it! Read it!” Levi bounced and hopped, shifting his weight back and forth from one foot to the other and then back again.

  Robert cleared his throat. “My dearest family: I hope this letter finds you all in best of health. I am none too worse for wear, though, I must say my physical being would surprise you! Soldiering is hard work and I find myself growing stronger, yet still thin.”

  Sarah giggled. “He’s always been thin.”

  Robert continued. “I have joined a fine regiment. My monthly pay is more than enough to satisfy my needs. I have enclosed some savings for you and hope you can use it for something special. Perhaps buy some delicious sweet cakes from Mr. Roeder…”

  Adelaide cringed. Mr. Roeder had been dead and in the ground over five months. She still wasn’t sure his spirit was gone.

  “I have yet to see any serious engagements. We spend most of our time drilling and looking stern. Our commanders are very knowledgeable and I enjoy the company of my fellow soldiers. Though none are from the Ferry, most come from Frederick City and know the area well. I know it will dishearten my dear sisters to hear of my involvement with those from Frederick, but I can assure you these are fine gentleman.”

  It was almost enough to make Adelaide smile.

  “I must apologize for not writing. I promise I will do better. We are always on the move and it is difficult to pass letters. One never knows if they will actually reach their destination. I request you keep me in your fervent prayers, as you are always in mine. I remain very faithfully yours, your son and brother, Luke.”

  It had been sixteen days since a spirit had been seen in Harpers Ferry, Virginia.

  And her brother didn’t know their father was dead.

  Chapter 22

  February 7th, 1862

  ADELAIDE COULD HEAR her brother thundering down the hallway like a galloping horse, getting louder as he drew nearer. He always sounded like he was trying to trap a scampering mouse under his boots. Without knocking or requesting permission to enter, he burst into the bedroom and said, “You need to grab what you can and get out of the house.”

  “What?” She glared at him. “Robert, what are you talking about?”

  He reached out, yanked her to her feet, and then did the same to Sarah. “Just shut up, grab what you can, and get out. The damn blue bellies are going to torch the house. We have five minutes—and only because I begged on your lives.”

  “What?” Sarah shrieked. “Why are they burning the house?”

  Robert didn’t give her time to answer. He bolted out of the room, immediately beginning to bark orders at Rebekah and Levi.

  Adelaide glanced around the bedroom, the stark realization hitting her like a sledge hammer. There was no possible way they could take everything with them—not in five minutes. They would never be able to get it out of the house. Damn them. Damn the war and the deliberation of states rights or freedoms or whatever the hell it was that made this happen. It was a rich man’s war, but it was the poor man who was dying. It was the poor man’s family who was forced to suffer, to be humiliated and raided and have everything taken away.

  She ripped the quilt off the bed and threw it on the floor. “Pile the linens on here, as much as you can. We’ll use it to drag down the stairs.”

  Sarah nodded and began stripping the bed. She moved mechanically, like she was a windup clock. Her face was blank, but her eyes were filled with tears.

  Adelaide snatched her spare wool stockings off the floor and yanked them over the stockings she was wearing, quickly followed by two pairs of summer stockings. It stretched them out but she didn’t care. There wasn’t time to care.

  “Should I put the petticoats on here, too?” In the process of stripping the bed, Sarah struggled to pull on extra stockings as well. “Clothes?”

  “Put as much on as you can.” Adelaide yanked a skirt and bodice over her clothes. “Don’t debate, Sarah, just do it!”

  How would there be time for everything? Tears began streaming down her cheeks. This was her home, she’d lived here her whole life. Her brothers and sisters were born there. Her parents died there. Now she only had five minutes left inside its walls. Damn the northern bastards. To them, they were Rebels, to the Rebs they were Yankees. They were damned either way.

  “Can you handle this?” Adelaide threw her thick, blue wool cape over her shoulders. “I should get dishes from the kitchen.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Still in her stocking feet, Adelaide thundered down the hallway to the kitchen. Her mind felt like it was ensconced with thick fog. She blindly grabbed wooden bowls, utensils, and mugs and dumped them on the table. What did they use every day? What would they need? Everything! How could they survive without everything?

  Robert stormed into the kitchen and dumped a few large bundles on the floor. “Adelaide, you have got to hurry. There isn’t time.”

  “I know.” She struggled with the over sized soup kettle. “Help me!”

  He jerked the soup kettle from her hands and set it on the table. “Whatever you can fit in this is all that goes. I’m sorry, you’ll have to do without.”

  It was a ridiculous notion. There was no way everything they would need could possibly fit in a kettle. She frantically shoved a cooking pan and the plates into the kettle. “Are you taking loads down now?”

  “Uh-huh.” He hoisted the bundles over his shoulder and staggered to the door. “Please hurry, Addy, we’re almost out of time.”

  “Addy!”

  She hesitated for a moment. There was still so much she needed to bring, so much more they needed; that they depended on.

  “Addy, help me!” Levi sounded desperate.

  She tossed two loaf pans into the kettle and then hustled down the hall to him. “What’s wrong?”

  His quilt, like the one she and Sarah shared, was piled with bed linens and clothing. He looked at her, his bright eyes brimming with tears. “I put Luke’s clothes on here, too. I can’t tie it closed.”

  Adelaide grabbed the edges of the quilt and, with Levi’s help, muscled them toge
ther. With a tug and a twist, the bundle was closed. “Go help Rebekah and Lizzie. I’ll take this downstairs.”

  Robert’s voice echoed through the house. “Hurry up!”

  “Help me, Robert, I can’t carry this alone!” Sarah ran past the open door.

  Adelaide hoisted Levi’s belongings over her shoulder and stumbled down the hallway, passing Robert as he dashed through the kitchen. He cast her a sideways glance. “Can you handle that?”

  “Yes.” She gritted her teeth and lurched out the door. From the top of the stairs, she could see several bundles on the sidewalk. There didn’t seem to be enough; certainly they had managed to get out more than that.

  Thundering down the stairs, she curled her toes over the edges of each step to prevent herself from tumbling face first to the ground. A few rough knots in the wood dug into the soles of her stocking feet, but she tried not to let it slow her down. There was too much left to do, too much left to try to save.

  Then she saw them: soldiers standing next to the steps. They made no move to help her.

  Adelaide dumped the bundle of Levi’s belongings on the ground with the others. It caught her cloak as it slammed to the ground, jerking her to one side by her throat. Shoving it away and wrenching her cloak free, she turned on her heel and rushed back to the stairs. The smell of smoke was already thick in the air.

  Robert squeezed past her on the staircase. “Help Rebekah. I’ve got to get the kettle from the kitchen and what I can from my room.”

  Running back into the kitchen, Adelaide slowed a moment to see if she could throw anything else in the kettle and then dashed down the hall to Rebekah’s room. A room the slag had shared with their father.

  Not surprisingly, Rebekah was standing in the middle of the room sobbing hysterically, wringing her hands together. Sarah was darting back and forth, dropping things on the quilt and obviously doing her best to determine what Rebekah and Lizzie would need most. Everything was just sitting out as it had been, like the fool hadn’t even tried to collect clothes and belongings to take with her.

 

‹ Prev