Then he went to the kitchen door and opened it. Inside was another front entryway. The second house, he thought, just as yesterday. He entered it and walked into the living room.
Something’s different, he thought. The curtains are drawn. There are no coats on the coatrack.
This is not the same house I inspected yesterday.
As he moved around the table, he heard talking — a voice he recognized. That’s Jonas! he thought, and hurried to the kitchen. Jonas was standing at the door to the back yard, talking with someone.
“Jonas?” Lorenzo called.
Jonas turned, and a huge smile of relief appeared on his face. “Lorenzo!” he replied. “Thank God you’ve come! We’re trapped!”
Jonas stepped away from the doorframe and there was Langford, his brother, standing on the other side of it in another copy of the house. Lorenzo could see the front entryway beyond.
“Lorenzo!” Langford called, almost hysterically.
“Langford is upset,” Jonas said to Lorenzo. “He says he saw Espy murdered. By Bingham.”
Lorenzo walked to the door. Langford was highly agitated and anxious, his eyes red from crying. “What did you see?” Lorenzo asked him.
“I’m not going back there!” Langford cried.
Lorenzo crossed the threshold into the entryway where Langford stood.
“My God, Langford!” he heard Jonas say behind him. “Look! Lorenzo was able to come in! He walked right through!”
Lorenzo turned to look at Jonas. “You cannot enter?”
Jonas pressed his hand up against the air of the threshold. Lorenzo saw the flesh of Jonas’ palm flatten as it came into contact with some force.
“I’m trapped in here, and he’s trapped in there!” Jonas said. “He’s been here with me for the last several minutes, ever since he saw whatever it is he saw. It has shaken him to the core.”
Langford was grabbing Lorenzo by the arms. “You got through! You can save us!”
“Where’s Espy?” Lorenzo asked.
“Through there,” Langford said, pointing down the hallway that ran by the stairwell. “In another kitchen. I saw him attacked. There was blood!” Langford was crying as he talked, making it difficult for Lorenzo to understand exactly what he was saying.
“Can you show me?” Lorenzo asked.
“No!” Langford replied. “I’m not going back down there! I’m staying here with Jonas!”
Lorenzo turned to leave Langford and walk down the hallway.
“Where are you going, Lorenzo?” Jonas called.
“I’m going to find Espy,” Lorenzo replied, without turning around.
“Be careful!” Jonas called. “And please come back!”
Lorenzo walked down the hallway, reaching the stairs landing, and turned left to proceed down the perpendicular hallway that led to the outer door at the end. He kept his eyes peeled for Bingham, ready to drop out of the River if he saw him.
Once he reached the end of the hallway, he opened the door. There was another kitchen. The fourth copy, he thought. He drifted in, and saw on the floor a long streak of blood, as if some violence had happened and a body had been dragged out of the kitchen and into the central room.
If Bingham has captured Espy, as Langford said, I don’t want to come upon him. It’ll alert him to me, and make it hard for me to come back without him waiting for me.
He turned and left the fourth house, returning to Langford.
“He’s right, something happened in the next kitchen,” he said to Jonas. “Tell me again what you saw, Langford. Langford!”
Langford slowed his sobbing and spoke. “Espy and I were speaking through the doorway. He was trapped on his side, just as Jonas and I are separated here. Bingham came up behind him, and pulled him to the ground. He sunk his teeth into Espy’s neck, and then strangled him, right there on the kitchen floor. I ran.”
“Dear God,” Jonas said. “Did you see it, Lorenzo?”
“I saw the results of it. I didn’t see Espy or Bingham. The body was dragged into another room.”
“Help us!” Langford began to sob again. “He’ll come for me next!”
“Calm yourself, Langford,” Lorenzo said. “Your cries might summon the monster. Be silent.”
Langford stifled his sniveling, and Lorenzo walked back into the kitchen where Jonas was standing.
“Tell me what happened today,” he said to Jonas. “The whole series of events.”
Jonas took a breath and held it as he recalled the day, then he expelled the air and began. “Henry contacted us last night, and said a solution may be imminent. He wanted to conduct a séance in secret today, so he scheduled it for a time in the afternoon, when the Sheriff and the people in town would not think we’d meet. Several of us arrived clandestinely, and Henry explained we’d be trying to create an intense focus upon the multiple houses that he’d learned were the source of the problem.
“We sat at the table and began. He repeatedly encouraged us to focus on that single issue, and we concentrated until our minds ached. There was a moment when I felt things were ripping, as though we’d pierced through, and I found myself able to leave my body. Langford, Espy, Henry — they all seemed able to do it, too. Henry took off within the house, exploring, and was gone. Langford and I explored together.
“We went through several houses, mystified by them. I recall wondering if they would just go on and on, like reflections between two mirrors, when I found I couldn’t progress any further. This unseen barrier stopped me. Langford had been walking ahead of me, and he was able to pass through, but I couldn’t. And Langford couldn’t come back. Langford tried going to the other end of his house, to see if anyone was there. He told me he found Espy, similarly trapped. Then he saw…well, he told you.”
“I don’t understand,” Lorenzo replied. “You said you walked through many houses before becoming trapped?”
“Yes.”
“How many, do you recall?”
“Three or four.”
“Did you go upstairs in any of them? Did you see any sign of Abraham? Or Jacob?”
“No, I didn’t go upstairs, and I didn’t see any one.”
“I’m going to check on something,” Lorenzo said, turning to leave.
“Don’t leave us!” Jonas called. “Please help us get out of here!”
“Stay quiet until I return,” Lorenzo replied. “Noise may attract Bingham.”
He saw a panicked look cross Jonas’ face, and he left the man in the kitchen. He walked through the central room, around the table, and to the front entryway, where he turned to proceed to the stairs.
Once in the upper hallway, he walked to the master bedroom, where he’d seen Abraham hanging the day before. He opened the door, expecting to see the putrefied, swinging body — but the room was empty.
Then, even through the solid walls of the well-built Blackham mansion, he heard the screams from downstairs. It was Langford.
He rushed back down. Jonas was emerging from the kitchen, a look of horror upon his face. He held his hand to his throat, as though he was holding back vomit.
“Run elsewhere in the house and hide!” Lorenzo said, and Jonas stumbled away.
He turned into the kitchen, and could see movement in the room beyond, the front entryway of the house Langford was trapped in. He moved slowly and quietly, trying to position himself so he could see what was happening without giving himself away.
Langford had been pulled back to the hallway by the stairs, where it was darker. Lorenzo strained his eyes to see what was happening there. He heard ripping and tearing. Langford was now silent.
Then two eyes appeared in the darkness, looking up and at him. Wide, wild eyes. Bingham.
Lorenzo felt the fear race down his spine as though someone had drawn an ice cold pick over his back. He dropped from the River.
After the exhale of a deep breath, he opened his eyes. The bodies slumped on the table, the drawn curtains. He was back with the living.
> Some of them might not still be living, he thought.
He rose, and walked around the table, checking each body for signs of life. Langford and Epsy had no heartbeat, while the others were still breathing.
“Dear God,” he spoke aloud. “Dear God.”
He walked outside, finding Emma. As she looked at him he could tell she was searching for some indication of hope on his face. He was unable to summon it.
“We must reach the Sheriff,” he told her, “if for no other reason than to secure our own innocent place in this. Langford and Espy are dead.”
“Henry?”
“He lives, but I fear it may not be for long. The same with the others. I will go for the Sheriff. When your children arrive home, send them with messages to all the spouses, with urgency.”
He gave Emma the best look of reassurance he could under the circumstances, and ran for his wagon.
▪ ▪ ▪
Lorenzo twisted in bed, trying to sleep, but his brain wouldn’t let him. The events of the past two days kept replaying in his mind, and no amount of warm milk had led to any relaxation.
He felt the Sheriff wanted to put him in irons the day before, when they’d explained what happened. Emma’s testimony that Lorenzo hadn’t been a participant in the séance, but had only arrived after, was what had saved him from imprisonment. He also suspected that his father’s reputation in the church may have played a role in convincing the Sheriff of Emma’s truthfulness. Many times in his life Lorenzo had received deference due to his father’s apostleship.
Just before they retired, Tabitha learned that Sister Patricia Orton, Jonas’ wife, informed others that Jonas had passed. He’d remained comatose as he was transported home, and he died in his own bed.
I wonder if Henry has gone now too, he thought. I must check on Emma tomorrow.
Then his thoughts returned to what he’d seen while in the River at the mansion. The missing coats. Jonas’ house coming first, instead of Abraham’s. It seemed like a swirling mess of uncorrelated details, with only one constant — Bingham.
Nothing will come of this endless speculation, he thought, trying to force himself to sleep. Take it up again in the morning. For now, clear your mind.
He let himself drift into the River and left his body, turning to look down on himself and Tabitha. She was asleep, and had been for hours — though not without her own obstacles to it. Jacob’s disappearance still weighed heavily on her, and tonight she could just as easily have been the one kept up by a racing mind. He felt sorry for her. She didn’t have the gift, but with Jacob as a brother, she knew what it meant, and Lorenzo always suspected it was one of the things that had attracted her to him. Being the daughter-in-law of a church apostle hadn’t been appealing to her at all. She disliked the notoriety.
Just hanging there, in the air above himself, he felt his mind finally slow, and he let himself drop back into his body as sleep finally overtook him.
It was ended some hours later by a loud rapping at the front door.
He ran to it, wearing only his garment. When he opened it, he saw the first rays of light streaking through the canyon. In the doorway stood a twelve-year-old boy.
“Brother Lyman!” the lad said, out of breath. “Please come. Please come quick!”
“Where, lad?”
“My mother sent me. I’m Alton Blackham. My mother is Sister Blackham.”
“What has happened?”
“It’s my sister. She can’t wake up!”
Lorenzo saw Alton’s horse standing in the yard. “Return to your mother immediately, young man, and tell her I am on my way.”
The boy turned and raced to his horse as Lorenzo shut the door.
“What is it?” Tabitha asked, walking in from the bedroom, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
“Emma Blackham sent her oldest son to fetch me,” Lorenzo said, searching for clothes. “Something has happened to her daughter.”
He finished dressing and ran for a horse, not bothering to saddle it.
▪ ▪ ▪
“Just like the others,” Lorenzo said, holding the hand of Alton’s younger sister, Frida. “How old is she?”
“Seven,” Emma replied, wiping tears from her face. “Please tell me she’s going to be alright!”
“Have you called a doctor?” Lorenzo asked. He dropped the child’s arm. Her pulse was steady, but she couldn’t be roused.
“I sent Alton for Doctor Anderton once he returned from contacting you,” she replied. “Given what happened with Henry and the others, I thought you should see her first.”
“How is Henry?”
“Still alive,” she replied. “I heard that Jonas passed.”
“I fear they will all pass,” Lorenzo said.
“Don’t say that!” Emma cried. “Please tell me there’s something that can be done!”
Lorenzo sighed. He had no idea how to proceed, what he could do to stop the eventual deaths of Henry or Frida. Bingham would continue to prowl the houses of Blackham mansion until he found them, like a spider crawling its web.
“I will try to contact her, if you’ll allow it,” Lorenzo offered.
“Yes, please,” Emma said.
Lorenzo sat on the bed next to Frida, and closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax and prepare to enter the River. It was more difficult to do with Emma watching, but he forced himself to concentrate in the interest of giving her some kind of hope, and slipped into the flow.
Rising above the bed and drifting to the hallway, he made his way to the stairwell and rapidly descended it. Then he turned and drifted through the living room and past the séance table, until he reached the kitchen. He opened the outside door.
Inside was another front entryway. He entered it, and began searching for the girl. Where would she hide? He wondered. Her room, of course. Start there.
He made his way upstairs, watching for any sign of Bingham. When he reached the upper hallway, he made his way down it until he came to Frida’s bedroom. He went inside.
“Frida!” he called. “I’m here to help you! Come out if you are here!”
She’s probably not here, he thought. This is the house I found Jonas in. She’s probably in another house, deeper.
Then he saw Frida emerge from the wardrobe, her small, freckled face wrinkled in fear. She ran to him.
He grabbed her and lifted her up.
“I can’t get out!” she said. “I’m trapped in the house!”
“Did you go exploring? Did you find other houses?”
“Yes,” she replied. “When I went through the kitchen door, I was in the front. It kept going and going.”
“Listen to me carefully, Frida,” Lorenzo said, putting her back down. “Have you seen another man in here?”
“I was in the kitchen, looking into the next house, and I saw blood on the floor. So I hid up here.”
“You must continue to hide, at all costs,” he told her. “I’m here to help you, but not everyone who comes into this house will be helpful. There’s one who will try to harm you. You must not let him know where you are, ever. Do you think you can do that?”
“I think so.”
“Are you good at hiding?”
“Alton says I am.”
“Good. Stay hidden. I’m going to tell your mother you’re alright. She’s very worried about you and wants you to know she loves you.”
The little girl began to cry, and Lorenzo picked her up once again. “It’s alright to cry this once. But you must remain silent, so you are well hidden. If you make noise, like crying, or walking around, he might find you.”
I hate scaring the child like this, but how else am I going to help her? he thought. I have no other options. She needs to be scared, to understand she must be quiet.
“Can you remain silent while you hide?”
“Yes,” she said, trying to reign in her tears.
“Fine,” he said, lowering her again. “Now hide, Frida. Stay quiet and hide.”
She left
him and returned to the wardrobe, closing the doors as she tucked her tiny body inside.
He drifted back downstairs, making his way to the kitchen door, where he found another front entryway waiting behind the door. He went through.
Which body is here? he wondered as he began to search.
As he turned into the central room, he found Jonas. His body was strung up above the table. Splatters of blood had fallen onto the wood below.
He was going to approach Jonas, but Bingham’s appearance in the doorway to the kitchen stopped him. He immediately dropped from the River, knowing once Bingham arrived, there was nothing to be gained by remaining.
He opened his eyes and looked up at Emma.
“Well?” she asked, her eyes already puffy from the crying.
“She’s hiding, which is what I suspect her father is doing, too.”
“Hiding from what?”
“From Bingham. Willard Bingham.”
“Oh God!” Emma cried, sobbing into a handkerchief. “How can that be? He’s dead and buried! How can he be doing these things?”
“I don’t know how he’s doing it,” Lorenzo replied. “But as long as we have loved ones trapped on the other side with him, we will have to work to release them.”
“How?”
“I have no idea at present,” Lorenzo replied. He wondered how Frida managed to enter the duplicate houses without having participated in a séance. “Did your daughter ever exhibit any special abilities?”
“Special abilities?” Emma asked. “Like what?”
“Abilities such as mine?”
Alton burst into the room. “Doctor Anderton is coming,” he said, out of breath. “Is she alright?” he looked to Lorenzo.
“No, she is not,” Lorenzo told the boy. “Alton, listen to me. Did you have dreams last night? Do you remember?”
Alton paused to think. “Yes,” he answered. “Strange. I was in the house, and there were more houses.”
“Describe what you remember. What was strange about it?”
The Blackham Mansion Haunting (The Downwinders Book 4) Page 12