His main purpose for coming outside had nothing to do with the power, anyway. Someone had to show those scared hens inside that the sky was not falling. If he left them to their own devices, they would have the place boarded up tight before midnight.
Paul turned and started back to the house. How anyone, other than maybe Prucilla, could take that McCoy character seriously was beyond him. The guy was obviously working some kind of angle, and either Nan Roberts had let him completely snowball her or she was in on it, too. Paul hadn’t yet figured out what they were hoping to gain from the situation, but he was sure as hell they weren’t on the level. Ghosts and monsters, please.
If Prucilla had seen someone on the beach at Nan’s, it had been a man and nothing more. More than likely, it had simply been McCoy trying to put a scare into them. Paul had seen some of those so-called ‘ghosthunting’ shows on TV, and it was obvious to him that most of them were scripted and fake. The few that weren’t rigged never really showed anything—just a bunch of guys running around in the dark yelling did you see that? Did you hear that? Paul considered it a laughably bad attempt at entertainment, though judging by the ratings, not everyone agreed with him.
He was just about to mount the steps and head back inside when movement caught his eye. Had someone just ducked around the corner of the house? It was just dark enough that he couldn’t really be sure, but that was what it had looked like.
Suddenly suspicious, he backed onto the sand and eased his way toward the western end of the house. He had played a lot of sports back in the day, and he could still move with grace and stealth when it suited him. He paused every couple of steps, listening, but he could hear nothing over the surf and the breeze. The only movement seemed to be caused by the wind as well, though the shadows on that side of the house were dark and thick and could have been hiding a horse as far as Paul could tell.
He stood there for a moment, undecided. The wind was beginning to chill him, and he had, after all, promised Karen that he wouldn’t be long. Still, what would it hurt to take a quick walk around the house? The power lines, which ran underground, entered the building on the west side. He should check the lines and meter base to make certain no one had been tampering with them.
Resolutely, Paul walked toward the darkness, no longer striving to be inconspicuous. In fact, if someone lurked within the shadows, he wanted them to hear him coming. Most vandals or peeping toms would run when faced with the possibility of discovery. And while Paul would never back away from a scuffle, he was suddenly not so eager to pursue one. The women’s paranoia must have infected him, after all. Silently chastising himself, he quickened his stride, only to nearly stumble over as he saw movement within the inky darkness.
He squinted his eyes as he strained to peer into the shadows. Near the outer wall of the house, someone was hunched over the area where the electrical meter was located. Paul couldn’t make out much beyond a shadow that was darker than the shadows surrounding it, but he was sure he was looking at the form of a person.
“Hey!” he called into the darkness. “What do you think you’re doing? Get the hell away from there!”
The dark figure seemed to hesitate, becoming perfectly still.
“Who’s there? Come on out where I can see you!” Paul paused for a moment before adding, “McCoy? That’d better not be you!”
At that, the figure stood and began to advance from the darkness. The battered and worn straw cowboy hat was the first thing that Paul recognized, followed closely by the lopsided, sly grin.
Paul’s initial reaction was relief; McCoy had come off as a nut job earlier, but the man didn’t seem to be threatening in any way. Slowly, however, that relief was replaced by anger. What was McCoy doing sneaking around his house in the dark? Had he done something to the power lines? If he had, by God, he would most certainly pay for the damages.
“I don’t know what your game is, McCoy, but I’m onto you.” Paul crossed his arms over his chest and stood straight and firm. “You’d better have a good explanation for being here.”
McCoy continued to advance, his stride slow and easy, the grin never leaving his face.
Paul shifted his weight nervously. There was something wrong with the way McCoy kept walking silently toward him.
“Hold it right there, Hoss,” Paul said, trying to keep his voice steady. “What’re you up to? I want an answer.”
McCoy said nothing. He kept smiling and kept coming.
“I’m serious!” Paul took a step backward in spite of himself. “That’s close enough—″ And then it hit him what was wrong. Earlier, when Paul had first met McCoy, the man had walked with a pronounced limp. He had even been using a walking stick.
The McCoy now striding toward him had no limp and carried no walking stick.
Even as Paul started to backpedal, he knew it was too late. McCoy was upon him in two incredibly quick steps, and the man seemed to grow several inches as he reached out and snared Paul in a powerful bear hug. Paul struggled to fight back, but the grip he found himself in was like a vise. McCoy’s skin felt wet and clammy, and when Paul looked up at his attacker, he found himself staring not at the face of Finn McCoy, but at a nightmare with glowing green eyes and a mouth with teeth like shards of broken glass.
There was a loud popping noise, and Paul Stallings had just enough time to realize that it was his spine snapping before the world blinked out into nothingness.
***
“Are you sure you wrote it down exactly as you heard it?” McCoy asked Amanda. He was scanning over the notes the women had taken while trying to remember the exact pronunciation the Gray Man had used. “You used ie, and Nan used ee.”
“Tietza,” Amanda said, reading the name she’d hastily jotted down. “That’s what it sounded like. Forgive me for not being an expert on old German names.”
“Well, it’s important,” McCoy replied, a tad defensively. “Knowing an entity’s name gives you a certain power over it. You mispronounce the name, you lose the power.”
“I didn’t know we were going to be graded on this.”
“Actually, I think I’ll defer to Amanda,” Nan said. “I think it was more of an ie than an ee.”
“Okay,” McCoy said. “We’re in agreement there. What about the other one?”
“Mallow-ba-dez?” Amanda asked tentatively.
“I couldn’t get any closer,” Nan added.
“We need to be sure,” McCoy said. “Can I use the computer, Nan?”
“Knock yourself out. I need to digest this. Anyone else need a beer?”
“Does a water demon shit in the ocean?” McCoy asked.
“Okay. That’s two. What about you, Amanda?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Three it is. Be back in a sec.”
“I’m going to check these names on the internet,” McCoy said. “I’ll feel better if I can actually find them listed somewhere.” He looked at Amanda. “Wanna come watch?”
“I’ve had enough excitement for a while. I think I’ll sit here and wait on my beer.”
“Suit yourself,” McCoy said, and then he was off to explore the vastness of cyberspace.
Nan returned with the beers, took one to McCoy, and came back to the dining room table. She handed Amanda a bottle and settled down into one of the wicker chairs.
“I guess I’ve seen it all now,” she said to Amanda as she twisted the top off her bottle. “Ghosts, sea demons. I keep waiting for Bigfoot to walk in and plop down beside me.”
“The first time is a bit traumatic,” Amanda agreed. “If it makes you feel any better, that was my first ghost, too. Of course, I have seen demons and evil fairies, so the Gray Man didn’t exactly peg my Wow Scale.”
“I don’t know how you do it, hon. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep for weeks.”
“You’ll be surprised,” Amanda said. “I thought the same thing. But I’ve found the human mind is pretty adaptable. You’ll sleep, though probably a lot lighter than before.”
>
Nan smiled and glanced over at McCoy, who was hunkered over the computer screen. “You two make a cute couple. I was beginning to think there wasn’t a woman alive who could tie that old hound dog down.”
“I wish I could take the credit,” Amanda said, taking a drink of her beer. “I think it had more to do with him than me, though. I think he was just ready, and I happened along at the right time.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Amanda. I’ve seen how he looks at you when you’re not paying attention. Real love like that is hard to come by. I may not have mine anymore, but I still recognize it when I see it.”
“It must be hard for you, Nan. I can’t say I can even begin to understand how you feel.”
Nan stared at her beer for quite some time before speaking. “Do you want to know,” she said finally, “why I didn’t freak out when Finn summoned the Gray Man?”
“I did notice you handled it extremely well.”
“Because the Gray Man was proof. Proof that Pete didn’t just—cease to exist when he died. And hope. Hope that we might be together again someday. Seeing that ghost didn’t scare me. Well, it didn’t scare me much. It filled me with a joy I haven’t felt in a long time.”
“That’s a beautiful way of looking at it,” Amanda said. “I haven’t really thought much about the afterlife, but you’re right. There must be something more for us.”
“It’s a comforting thought,” Nan agreed. “And if I have to put up with demons and monsters to be privy to such knowledge, then so be it.”
“Meet up with a water hound sometime,” McCoy said as he returned to the table. “You may change your mind.”
“Any luck finding those names?” Amanda asked.
“Yep. Tietza is a feminine name. The other one, Mallobaudes, is masculine. So I guess we are looking at a couple.” He took a swig of beer. “I couldn’t find either name connected to anything otherworldly, though.”
“Well, at least it’s a start,” Nan said. “It’ll come in handy if we run into them again.”
“Unfortunately, if isn’t an option,” said McCoy. “I have to find them, and I’ve got to stop them. There’s no reason to think they’ll stop killing until I do.”
“Shouldn’t we call Pru?” Amanda asked. “She should have the names in case those things show up at the Stallings’.”
“It wouldn’t hurt,” McCoy answered. “Assuming we can get past Paul, that is. I don’t think any of us are high on his list of favorite people right now.”
“Still,” Nan said, “I think I’ll try. With any luck, Karen will answer.” She rose and walked over to the phone.
“It’s been a long day,” McCoy said as he sat down next to Amanda. “I know it’s early, but I’m thinking about turning in. I’m bushed, and the leg’s starting to ache.”
“Go ahead. I think I’ll sit up with Nan for just a little while. Do you need any help getting into bed?”
“I most certainly do not, thank you very much. I want to get an early start tomorrow, so don’t stay up too late, okay?”
“I won’t. I’m pretty tired myself, but this beer is tasting really good. I’m thinking one more won’t hurt.”
“That’s my girl,” McCoy said, rising. “Wake me if anything happens. And neither you nor Nan is to go outside for any reason. Capiche?”
“Ten-four, boss.”
McCoy turned to see Nan placing the phone on the hook, a puzzled expression on her face.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“I don’t know. My calls to the Stallings aren’t going through.”
“Try calling my cell.”
Nan picked the phone back up and dialed McCoy’s number. His phone began to chime.
“Damn,” he said. “So much for going to bed. Amanda, grab your keys.”
Chapter Twelve
“Paul?” Karen Stallings shouted from the darkness of her back doorway. “Paul? Damnit, answer me!”
Only the wind and the surf responded. Karen started to step through the doorway, but she was forcefully hauled backward by her sister and niece before she could get one foot out of the door.
As her mother gripped her aunt, Pru shut and locked the door. The bad thing was out there; there was no denying that fact. In the instant before they had pulled her aunt back into the house, Pru had felt it—cold and slimy and hungry for life. Merely sensing the Nix had left her feeling nauseous, on the verge of throwing up. She put her back against the door and leaned there, forcing the gorge in her throat back down into her stomach, her legs wobbly and threatening to fold under her.
Her uncle Paul was probably dead, and there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it. She shouldn’t have let him go out, but what could she have done to prevent it? She was only a kid, after all. The adults wouldn’t listen to her. Even if she had told them about her gifts, about the things she could see, her uncle would not have believed her. He hadn’t believed McCoy, and McCoy was older.
McCoy had also said that he didn’t believe her uncle to be in any danger, and he had been wrong. To be fair, though, the articles on the internet had led Pru to believe the same thing; there was no mention of the Nix preying on grown men, only women and children. Uncle Paul had simply been an obstacle, and the Nix had removed him from the equation. Now they were free to go after what they really wanted: the women.
And Pru herself.
Pru looked up to see her aunt struggling to break free from her mother. Uncle Paul might be gone, but Pru would not allow either her aunt or mother to sacrifice themselves by going outside. And if that meant letting them in on her deepest, darkest secret, then that’s what she would have to do.
“Wait!” she screamed, still leaning against the door to support herself. “Aunt Karen, wait!”
Both women stopped and turned to look at Pru. Whether there was something in her expression or simply the way she was propped against the door, barely able to stand, Pru didn’t know. But it was obviously something, because both her aunt and mother dropped their arms to their sides and stood staring at Pru with wide eyes.
“Aunt Karen,” she began, her voice considerably softer now that she had their attention, “you can’t go out there. None of us can. There’s something out there, waiting, and if we go out there, we’ll die.”
“Pru!” Becky said in a shocked tone, but Pru shook her head fiercely, forcing her mother into silence.
“Mom, I know what I’m talking about. It’s the same thing I saw on the beach at Nan’s. It’s not a ghost. It’s something a lot worse. And the reason I know that is—I’ve seen ghosts before. Lots of times. And I’ve seen other things, too. But never anything like this.”
“Pru, what are you talking about?” Karen asked.
Pru looked into her aunt’s eyes and immediately wished she hadn’t. The fear and confusion she saw there were bad enough, but there was also an overpowering sense of desperation. She was suddenly sorry she’d said anything at all, for now that the cat was out of the bag, she was going to have to spill everything. And the more she said, the more Aunt Karen would begin to realize the truth about what had happened to her husband.
“I’ve always been able to see them, as far back as I can remember. Mom, you and Dad always thought I had a vivid imagination, and I guess maybe I do, but that wasn’t the whole truth. Remember when I was five and Gramma Pridemore died? I saw her for nearly a week after that, before she decided to move on. She was worried that Dad wouldn’t find something, but then he did and she went into the light.”
“The will,” Becky whispered, her voice far away. “It took Robert five or six days to find it. It was in—″
“In that old desk in her bedroom,” Pru finished. “She showed me where it was, but the drawer was locked and I didn’t know where the key was. I tried telling you and Dad, but you thought I was playing make-believe and didn’t really listen. Gramma was so relieved that Dad finally found it. Then she went away, and it was years before I understood why.”
“My God, Pr
u,” Becky said. “Are you being straight with me? Why haven’t you said anything?”
Pru shrugged. “By the time I was old enough to realize what I was seeing, I was old enough to realize that no one else could see them. I didn’t want everyone to think I was a freak.”
“Baby, no one would have—″
“Yes, they would’ve. Maybe not you and Dad, but everyone else.”
Pru saw her mother’s eyes glaze at the mention of her father, and she knew the question that was coming. Of all the reasons for keeping her secret from her mother since her father had died, avoiding this question had been at the top of the list.
“Pru … ″
“I never saw him, Mom. I never saw Dad. He must have passed over right when—right away.”
Becky nodded, but she couldn’t keep the tears from coming. Pru felt like crying as well, but she fought her own tears back. Now wasn’t the time.
“So, Mr. McCoy was telling the truth,” Karen said. She stared at Pru, understanding growing in her expression. “And you knew that he was telling the truth. And you just stood and let Paul go out there?”
“Karen!” Becky’s voice conveyed her astonishment. “She’s twelve! What could she do? Paul wouldn’t have listened to her. He didn’t believe McCoy.”
“I would have listened.”
The hurt and betrayal on her aunt’s face hit Pru hard, and now the tears did come. How could she have messed things up so badly?
“I would have listened,” Karen repeated. “And I could have stopped him. I could have stopped him from going out there.”
“Aunt Karen, I didn’t know it was out there then. Not for sure. I didn’t sense it until you opened the door a few minutes ago. And McCoy thought Uncle Paul would be safe. Even the article on the internet said—″
Shadows in the Sand (A Finn McCoy Paranormal Thriller Book 2) Page 10