Paranormal After Dark

by Rebecca Hamilton

  The creature was on her in an instant, rearing back on its haunches to pounce. Adelaide jammed the lit match into the bundle of sage and shoved it and the watch in front of her. The wraith was startled, stumbling backwards. It snarled again, its eyes burning red. She was marked by the reaper.

  “Then he has what he wants.” Adelaide drove it away from her, pushing it towards the window. “Get out of this house. Accipe eam et vade anima.” Take her soul and go.

  It continued to stare at her; baring yellowed, loose teeth from already rotting gums. This is your final warning, Sin-Eater. Stay away from the scourge.

  With a scream, the creature charged at her, at the last second changing direction and running through the door. The shriek grew quieter as it ran down the hallway, but then she heard a loud crash. A shatter of glass.

  The watch face slammed shut.

  Footsteps thundered down into the sitting room and, in a moment, Robert burst into her room. He stared at the burning sage and the blood dripping from her palm. “What the fuck happened in here, Adelaide? What was screaming?”

  She stared back at him. There was no way she could explain what had just happened in a way he would believe her. He simply wouldn’t.

  “Where’s Rebekah?” Robert turned and ran from the threshold.

  Adelaide was right behind him. He’d stopped in front of Rebekah’s private quarters, the largest room at the end of the hallway. Pounding his fist against the wood, he yelled, “Rebekah! Unlock the door. Let me in.”

  “She locked it?” Adelaide wrapped her apron around her bleeding hand, then wedged herself between Robert and the wall. She knew what they were going to find, she knew the woman was dead. “We don’t have keys to these doors.”

  “She must have done it from the inside.” He slammed his shoulder against the door, throwing the weight of his body against the wood in an attempt to break it down.

  It didn’t work. He shoved her aside. “Back up, I’m going to kick it in.”

  Adelaide stepped back.

  Robert kicked the door as close to the knob as he could. One kick and then two; the door shuddered on its hinges. A final kick—

  –the door burst open.

  They both ran into the room. Robert grabbed her shoulders and tried to turn her away. “My God.”

  She’d seen everything. The only window in the room was broken, obviously where the creature had flung itself from the building. Rebekah was reclined back on the bed, her ankles still neatly crossed and her arms flung out to either side. Whatever had claimed her did so quickly: her throat was ripped open, her larynx clearly visible in her throat. Her eyes were open, her face expressionless.

  Blood was everywhere.

  “Jesus Christ, who could have done this?” Robert pushed her from the room. “Do you think it was a boarder? A soldier? Fuck, what in Christ’s name are we supposed to do?”

  Adelaide opened her mouth and then promptly shut it. It was a warning.

  The scourge had begun.

  Chapter 24

  September 10, 1862

  THE AIR IN the Ferry was heavy with more than just the crisp snap of the reddening autumn leaves and polluted stench of the rivers. The mobs of soldiers milling aimlessly around town seemed to be on edge, wary of any change in the winds of war that continued to rage against Virginia.

  The Randolph’s burgeoning dry goods store was booming. Although they had competition in the form of Mr. Egan’s dry goods shop further down Shenandoah Street, there was always a crowd of soldiers purchasing bread, food staples, and mending services from them. Robert insisted their dry goods store consistently did well due to the fact some soldiers just came to see Adelaide and Sarah. Adelaide was not certain this was actually the case, but if so, she felt that it was her part of the war effort.

  The Ferry was still bustling with soldiers, their families, and refugees from other towns, but there was a disconcerting feeling in the air. Robert, when pressed, claimed he did not know what—if anything—was going on and insisted they not query the soldier-patrons of the store. Too many questions made the local military suspicious—and Harpers Ferry citizens had been arrested for less.

  Adelaide straightened a row of glass medicinal bottles, dusting the tops as she moved along the shelf. Even in the middle of a war, men still bought tonics for their hair and treatments for a variety of ailments, like consumption and gout. She wasn’t entirely sure the patent medicines worked, but officers were always plucking them off the shelf. Perhaps they also thought the medicines cured other ailments, such as those spread by the whores in town. Whatever the appeal—and regardless of what concoction those bottles contained—they sold a surprising amount. Robert kept the prices up.

  Movement outside the window caught her eye. She edged closer to the glass, even though she knew exactly what was out there: the ranks of the dead. They were soldiers; souls tramping down the streets of town in a seemingly endless column. Sometimes it thinned out to a few stragglers or mangled torsos crawling to the confluence of the rivers, but the march never completely stopped. She’d warned Sarah to just leave them alone—to let the death march continue unabated—and try and carry on as if everything was fine. Part of Adelaide felt as if she was betraying who she was, that by not trying to help the souls she was breaking some vow she’d never agreed to take. Sin-Eater.

  But to save Thomas, she’d make the same decision a thousand times over.

  The scourge continued.

  A soft voice prodded her from her thoughts. “Excuse me, do I pay you for the bread?” The young woman was timidly standing at the counter behind her. She was probably close to Adelaide’s age, maybe a little older, and was dressed in a faded and mud stained green dress. Her hair was pulled back loosely at the nape of her neck and unruly blonde curls peaked out from underneath a simple straw hat. There was a shy smile playing on her lips, but her eyes were drooped with exhaustion.

  Adelaide nodded. “I thought my brother was here but, yes, I can handle it.”

  “He was.” Her voice was raspy, like her throat was sore. “He gave me the loaves and told me I could browse a bit more before paying.”

  “Did you want anything else?”

  She shook her head, jostling a blonde curl from her chignon. “No, this is fine. He said it would be a dollar for them?”

  That was a little below the actual cost of four loaves of bread. Blue eyes and blonde curls were Robert’s weakness and, obviously, he was willing to give this girl a discount based on her looks alone. “Uh, if that’s what he said.” She shoved the woman’s crinkled greenback into her apron pocket. “I haven’t seen you in town before. Are you here visiting a beau?”

  “No, my family and I were driven from our home.”

  A refugee. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Did you travel far?”

  “From Frederick.” Her face fell, her red rimmed eyes filling with tears. “The Confed’rate Army was drawing close to town, so my mother decided we should leave.”

  Frederick. Adelaide didn’t blame her—those pompous women in the Frederick Ladies Society would have been enough to drive anyone from town.

  She continued talking, unfazed or unaware of any scowl on Adelaide’s face. “My aunt formerly lived here in Harpers Ferry…but we can’t find her. I guess she left, the Yanks are boarding horses in her home.”

  Adelaide cringed. It seemed that half the vacant buildings in town were being used as stables or barracks for soldiers. “So many of our town have left over the past few years. At times it seems foolish to have stayed.”

  “I don’t know what we will do now.” The girl sighed sadly. “We can’t go home. Even if we wanted to, I’m not sure we can get back through the Reb lines.”

  “Do you and your family need a place to stay? We have a few rooms upstairs for board.”

  Her face broke into a smile, revealing a deep dimple on each cheek. “Thank you, but we’ve already taken a room down the street. It is indeed a kind offer, though. We won’t be staying here long. My m
other’s family lives in Pennsylvania and we’re trying to make our way there.”

  She nodded. “My name is Adelaide Randolph. And you are?”

  “Sallie Zittle.” Her smile widened. “It’s nice to meet a friendly face here in Harpers Ferry. I must admit, this town isn’t quite what I expected.”

  “You should have seen it before.”

  A tall, thin Yankee, a shock of red hair peeking out from underneath his cap, swaggered up to the counter. He smacked a greenback down in front of her. “I wouldn’t pay ten dollars for this godforsaken town.”

  Adelaide stifled a grin. Henry Baden, a soldier from an Ohio brigade, was becoming a regular at their store. “Mr. Baden, you’ve been opinionated about our town since the first day you set foot here.”

  “Perhaps,” he tossed an apple into the air and then squeezed it experimentally, “but you can’t tell me that Armory is not in a most sad state of affairs.”

  “Oh, I agree with you sir, it is. Formerly, I lived next to the Armory and I can assure you, it was a fine and magnificent complex.” She paused. “Are you going to buy that apple or are you just going to bruise it?”

  He tossed her a coin. “Old Bobby Lee is going to send his Rebs to your Ferry, you know that, right?”

  Sallie stood frozen in place, staring at Henry with blue eyes as large as saucers. Adelaide patted her hand reassuringly. “Don’t listen to him, he’s always insisting General Lee is hiding up on Loudoun Heights, just waiting for us to fall into slumber so he can murder us in our beds.”

  Henry took a big bite of the apple. “Is your sister around, Miss Randolph?”

  “She’s upstairs today, caring for our younger sister.” Adelaide fluttered her eyelashes innocently. “Why?”

  “Just curious.”

  “Shall I express your curiosity to her?”

  Apple juice trickled his chin. “If it pleases you. I’ll come back later, when she isn’t as busy. Unless she’s been abducted by Bobby Lee; then, well, I guess I’ll see her in Richmond.”

  Adelaide watched him lumber his lanky frame out the door and saunter across the street to a waiting group of soldiers. Henry Baden was a whirlwind, much as David Hamilton had been: constantly moving about town, flitting from Sarah’s side and then back to his Yankee friends. His similarities to David made her sad. She wondered how he was faring in his service to the Confederacy.

  “Was he being serious?”

  She turned and faced Sallie, who looked somewhat disconcerted by their Yankee visitor. “Mr. Baden is sweet on my sister, so he’ll find any excuse to visit our store. I would think if we were in danger of an attack from the Confederates, someone would warn us.”

  Sallie didn’t look convinced. “That’s why we left Frederick. I would hope we wouldn’t have to go through that again, especially so soon.”

  “If you’re trying to stay away from the war,” Adelaide’s voice was barely above a whisper, “this was the wrong place to come.”

  * * *

  September 12th

  RUMORS OF AN imminent attack began flying around the Ferry, mostly perpetuated by the soldiers on garrison duty in the streets. Henry Baden stopped several times a day, first to charm Sarah and then to fill their ears with the latest news. Adelaide wasn’t sure she believed any of the gossip, but one thing was certain: there were fewer soldiers on the streets than there had been previously. In passing, Henry explained it was because they were all stationed up the hill in Bolivar and on Maryland Heights. They were waiting for something, watching high above the Ferry.

  From the upper floors of their building, Adelaide could see the glow of fires on Loudoun Heights. There were men stationed on the eastern slope and, from what she had heard, they were boys in gray. They kept the blinds drawn, nervous that any flicker of candlelight from their room could be considered a target. It made her uneasy, nervous. Not only were they being watched from above, but from all sides.

  And still, the dead flooded the Ferry. The only benefit to keeping the blinds drawn was that she didn’t have to see their faces anymore.

  As suffocating as simply existing had become, she found herself clinging to everyday tasks to stay motivated. They’d only salvaged one hairbrush from their house in the Ferry Lot, so the typical routine before bed took much longer than it had in years past. It certainly didn’t help that Lizzie was a squirmy three-year-old priss. Her hair was thick like Adelaide’s and Sarah’s, but seemed to tangle upon itself. Adelaide attributed this to her mother.

  She snagged a snarl with the hairbrush, jerking Lizzie’s head backwards. The little girl whimpered, “Ouch! You’re hurting me!”

  “I’m sorry, little miss,” Adelaide tried to separate the strands with her fingers, “but it will only be worse if we let it go.”

  She started sniffling and Adelaide knew they were only moments away from a full blown tantrum. Since Rebekah’s death, the tantrums had gotten worse: screaming, kicking, and occasionally throwing herself on the floor. Perhaps she thought, as Adelaide sometimes wondered, Rebekah let herself be killed because of them. She’d hated life. Instead of fleeing Harpers Ferry, she gave up and let the hate and sadness consume her. She never had a chance to fight back. Guilt, on occasion, seemed to overwhelm Adelaide—not so much for Rebekah’s sake, but for Lizzie’s.

  Her attention, as well as Lizzie’s, was caught by the sudden movement of the bedroom swinging open. Robert ambled into the room, tossing his frockcoat in a heap on the bed.

  “Hi Robbie!” Lizzie squealed, clapping her hands and smiling up at him.

  “Hey squirt.” Robert’s glance caught Adelaide’s from across the room. “Addy, can I talk to you in the hallway for a moment?”

  “Yes.” She handed the hairbrush to Sarah. “Will you finish for me?”

  Sarah nodded.

  Adelaide followed him out into the dark hallway, lit only by the buttery glow from his thin, beeswax candle. His features looked sharp in the shadows, but his eyes were serious. As soon as she was in the corridor, he shut the door. “I think you should know,” he hesitated, “I heard rumor tonight that they’re going to evacuate the Ferry.”

  A sharp pang of anxiety swept through her stomach. She wasn’t sure how to respond. “When?”

  “I’m not entirely sure it’s going to happen.” He rubbed his eyes with his free hand, his face bathed in faded gold glow from the candle. “But if it does, I wanted you to be ready.”

  “Should I get some things together?”

  “No!” Robert scowled for a moment and then started again, slower and quieter this time. “No, I don’t want the others to know. If I was certain it was going to happen, it would be one thing. But I don’t. Besides, I have a few loaves of bread and apples ready to go…just in case.”

  Adelaide nodded and turned back to their room. Before she could open the door, Robert grabbed her arm and jerked her backwards. “I’m serious, Addy. Don’t make me think I shouldn’t have told you.”

  “I know.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to compose herself, hoping her face was expressionless. Walking back into the room, she smiled at Lizzie. “Are you ready for bed?”

  Sarah frowned at her. “Is everything okay?”

  Adelaide hoisted Lizzie up and plopped her down on her bed. “Everything is fine, Sarah.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She couldn’t look at her sister. “Yes. There isn’t anything to worry about.”

  * * *

  September 13th

  THE ATTACK STARTED at nine in the morning.

  Artillery exploded around them, shaking the building to its very foundation. Each shudder knocked more plaster from the ceiling and rattled the panes of glass in the window, almost to the point where it seemed the building was about to collapse. Adelaide could feel the percussion of every blast in her chest, freezing the breath in her lungs. She raced up the stairs to the bedroom, nearly crashing into Sarah as she rushed out, Lizzie on her hip. “We have to get to the cellar. Get downst
airs now.”

  “Where are you going? Where’s Levi?”

  “He’s downstairs.” Adelaide ripped a blanket from the nearest bed and then ran into the hallway. “Go, Sarah, don’t wait for me.”

  Robert met them at the bottom of the stairs. “There’s no cellar in this building. You’re going to have to run.”

  “Where?”

  He grabbed the back of her head and wrenched her face towards the street. “That two story white house right there, where the Fechts used to live. It’s abandoned.”

  “It’s out in the open; we’ll be in their line of fire.”

  “That’s why you have to run.”

  Adelaide stared down the street to the squat, white house. It seemed so far away, so open to any bullets that could be raining down from the Heights. They couldn’t reach it—not without getting shot.

  Robert didn’t give her any more time to think. He wrenched the blanket from her arms and shoved her out the door. There was nothing she could do.

  Except run.

  Adelaide thundered down Shenandoah Street, stomping through the grit and grime of the road, dodging around spirit soldiers clad in tattered uniforms caked in blood. Her corset constricted against her rib cage, making it difficult to gasp a full breath of air into her lungs. The house never seemed to get closer. The dead were everywhere.

  Sarah was suddenly at her side, grabbing her arm and pulling her down the street. The gunfire only seemed to get louder the further they ran. Adelaide’s skirts tangled around her legs, threatening to trip her with each step.

  And then there was Mr. Barry, frantically waving them around the Fechts house to the open cellar door on the side of the building. He didn’t say a word, just helped them down the stone steps and into the inky blackness. Adelaide hit her head off the low ceiling. In her haste to grab quilts, she hadn’t even thought to grab a supply of candles or a kerosene lamp.