Endless Fear

by Adrianne Lee

  Spencer looked from his brother’s face to Karl’s and knew he wasn’t being fair. Not to them, not to April. Every pore in his body craved haste, but if he didn’t curb the impulses he would be more of a hindrance than a help in finding her.

  Raking his hands through his damp hair, he sighed. “What do you have in mind?”

  “There was no sign of her along the cliff. Retracing that would only waste time. We need to cover the wooded section between here and the house. Searching in a line, keeping within a flashlight’s beam of one another is the best chance we’ve got of coming across her now.”

  Agreeing, the three men struck a synchronized pace and began trekking between fir and madrona, alternately calling her name.

  Branches slapped Spencer’s cheeks and crunched beneath his shoes. He stepped in chuck holes and stumbled over logs, but he barely noticed as his gaze scoured the forest floor for a trace of April. Her face swam before his mind’s eye and with every step, a painful band threaded tauter across his chest.

  By degrees the fog grew thicker. At several points the three men were forced to lessen the distance separating them, each time narrowing their individual fields of search until eventually they were only a few feet apart.

  Spencer guessed they’d gone about half a mile when he heard a voice calling. His head shot up. He eyed the swirling mist in front of him, finally detecting a dim light, then several more, all moving toward them.

  “It’s August and the others,” Karl informed them unnecessarily.

  Spencer hollered, “August, have you found April?”

  “No.” The fog seemed to muffle the word, but not its import. Suddenly Spencer couldn’t breathe. The panic he’d struggled so fiercely to control ripped from its restraints and charged his bloodstream. He tore through the underbrush screaming, “April! Where are you? Answer me!”

  Right away, Thane was there, grappling with him. Spencer bellowed with rage and threw him off. He managed to run three more feet before Karl tackled him. He pitched through empty air and landed with a painful thud on rough, wet ground. The wind poofed from his lungs, but the blanket inside his jacket buffered the impact to his rib cage. Spencer closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath, tried to shut out the annoying ringing in his ears. Slowly, as he lay sprawled like a ferret in a game trap, his senses returned.

  When he opened his eyes he found Thane squatting beside him. The concern on his brother’s face cut a swath of remorse through him. He offered a feeble, “Sorry.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “I will be as soon as Karl lets me up,” he grunted.

  Karl straddled his body, holding him pressed to the moist, grungy earth with his superior weight. “Not until I’m certain you ain’t gonna pull another stunt like that one.”

  “I won’t,” he said gruffly, then softer, “I won’t.”

  With his flashlight beam trained blindingly on Spencer’s face, Karl eased off of him, stood, and backed away. “What the hell possessed you, man?”

  In answer, Spencer sent him a scathing scowl. “Get that blasted light out of my eyes.”

  Karl shook his head and retreated further still, obviously of the opinion that Spencer had lost his mind completely. And for a moment, Spencer realized, he had.

  “What’s all the commotion?” August was breathless and pale. Fear emanated from him. “Is it April?”

  The other searchers converged around them, stepping through the eerie fog like wraiths on a nightly foray. The same dread was on all their faces.

  “No.” Thane informed them. “She was at Turtle Rock, but the trail grows cold from there.”

  Everyone seemed to speak at once, but August’s voice rose above the others. “I don’t understand.” His shoulders sagged as he looked from one face to the other. “Where could she be?”

  No one could tell him. They didn’t try. But the possibilities were narrowing and they all knew it.

  Cynthia moved to her husband’s side and slid her arm through his. “Darlin’, I know you want to keep looking, but the fog’s gettin’ too dense.”

  August shook his head. “We can’t quit now.”

  “We must. We’re all cold and wet. We need to get back to the house before we all get lost or catch pneumonia.”

  No one wanted to accept this, least of all Spencer. But there was no choice. His mother was right. To continue searching in this weather would only put others at jeopardy. They’d have to wait until the fog lifted. Only God knew when that would be.

  Spencer’s heart hung in his chest like a worthless piece of tin as he stumbled after the others, heedless to time and place, knowing that with every passing hour the chances of finding April alive were dwindling. He was as powerless to help her now as he had been twelve years ago, but this time he couldn’t block out the feelings.

  He let himself be led into the house and seated at the kitchen table, let July sob inconsolably against his chest, let her go, reluctantly, when their mother insisted the child be put to bed. It seemed incredible that only two hours had passed. March pressed a mug of hot coffee into his hand. But he didn’t drink. He stared at the dark liquid and saw April’s face, watched the steam rise and felt her warm breath mingle with his.

  August’s shaky voice interrupted his tortured thoughts and the murmur of conversation going on throughout the room. “I’ve contacted the Coast Guard. They’ll do a complete sweep of the island tomorrow. But they can’t do anything before dawn.”

  The grim quaver of acceptance in his stepfather’s tone sent shivers across Spencer’s flesh. A sweep of the island meant August had concluded what Spencer had concluded. April had fallen from the cliffs. The image this created in his mind refueled his panic. He scrambled to his feet and bracketed his palms against the tabletop, sloshing coffee and startling the people beside him. “I know you had to call the Coast Guard, but she’s not there, August. She’s not.”

  “I know how you feel, son. But we may have to accept the possibility.”

  “I can’t.” Spencer flipped his jacket from the back of his chair and began struggling into it.

  August’s hand landed heavily on his shoulder. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m going back out and find April.”

  “No.” The word was softly spoken, but carried the weight of Turtle Rock. “I’m not going to lose you, too.”

  For ten seconds they stared at one another, sharing a mutual anguish and love. Then Spencer nodded. Swallowing hard, he flopped his jacket back onto the chair and sat.

  “Under the circumstances,”—Dee Dee O’Brien scraped back her chair and stood—“I think we should call off the engagement party.”

  Although it was the sensible thing to do, the suggestion presumed the inevitable outcome of this ordeal. The group fell silent.

  Dee Dee’s little-girl voice broke the quiet. “Vanessa?”

  “You’re right, Mother.” Vanessa’s face was as gray as Spencer’s mood. However, she sounded relieved to have something to do. “I’ll get our guest list and we can start making the calls.”

  “You can use the phone in August’s den.” There was an odd lack of inflection in Cynthia’s tone. “I’ll make my calls when you’re finished.”

  Spencer’s nerves were too raw, his temper too short, to sit here and deal with this. Lurching from his chair, he left it rattling on its metal legs and strode across the kitchen to the laundry room. Fog hugged the windows like puffy drapes.

  He stared at the blanketed glass. April, where are you? What in the world could have happened? As worried as he was about her mental stability, he refused to believe she would have done herself harm. What then? His gaze shifted to the stairway, and he replayed with vivid memory the rejection he had handed her in the wine cellar. Could that account for this? God, he didn’t know. Her doctor. He should return her call. Find out what she wanted. Tell her April was missing. Maybe Dr. Merritt would have some much needed insight.

  “Are you sure April’s not in the hou
se?” Thane had approached so quietly Spencer flinched at the sound of his voice.

  “Well, I haven’t looked in every nook and cranny, but I did check the attic and the basements, and her bedroom.”

  Nodding, Thane emitted a wistful sigh, and angled his hip against the washing machine. “I was just thinking. About the tunnels. Is there any possibility she might have gone exploring?”

  Thinking back to their conversation in the wine cellar that morning, Spencer recalled April’s abhorrence at the thought of the darkness and the rats. He shook his head. “I doubt it.”

  “Why? Vanessa would give her eye teeth to explore the damned things. Why should April be any different?”

  Putting aside the fact that he could expound for hours on the differences between the two women, Spencer raked his fingers impatiently through his hair. “Even if it were remotely possible, how would she have gained access to any of the tunnels?”

  The gleam in Thane’s eyes seemed to imply Spencer was being extremely dull witted. He shrugged. “Through the house, of course.”

  Spencer shook his head again. “Karl and I were just in the wine cellar. The access is boarded up tight.”

  Thane arched one eyebrow. “That’s not the only entrance down there. Have you forgotten the one right behind where the staircase used to be?”

  He had. Tilting his head, he asked, “Aren’t there a couple more on the back wall as well?”

  Smiling, Thane angled his face close to Spencer’s. “Isn’t it worth checking out?”

  “Bro, anything would be better than standing around twiddling my thumbs, waiting for this godawful fog to lift. Let’s go.”

  “I thought you might say that.” Thane reached to his back pockets, withdrew two flashlights and handed one to his twin.

  Spencer followed him down the stairs through the larder into the basement. The inadequate light bulb cast a yellowy haze across the massive room. Both men switched on their flashlights. It was no wonder he hadn’t recalled the other openings to the smuggling tunnels, Spencer thought, scanning the hulls of discarded inventions. The walls were all but hidden from view by the shrouded frameworks which stood like malformed dragons guarding the entrance to the secret passageways.

  Thane seemed to agree. “These spooky-looking monsters would give a ghost nightmares.” He chuckled and urged his brother to follow him.

  As they strode across the floor, Spencer’s pace slowed. He couldn’t come into this room without being assailed by the memory of finding April alone in the dark, sobbing, nor could he pass this closed wine cellar door without seeing her sprawled beneath the racks.

  On impulse he flung open the door and flipped on the light. The room was as he and Karl had left it. April was not there. Numb, he flipped off the switch, shut the door, and hastened after Thane.

  Thane had reached the end wall. He skirted a cloth-covered structure and disappeared. A moment later, he shouted. “I’ve found one.”

  Hope quickened Spencer’s step, but when he caught up with his twin all he saw was a wall plastered with boards. He grabbed one of the planks and tugged. “Nobody’s entered the tunnels this way in years.”

  “This isn’t the only access.”

  A sudden curiosity grabbed Spencer, and he scanned the darkness beyond them. “Is there a walkway all around this skeletal graveyard of August’s?”

  “Yes. Sometimes he comes down here and steals parts off one or the other of these rejects to use on some new project. Come on.” Thane veered to the right, fanning his light to the cement beneath his feet. “You know it’s kind of strange how clean this floor is. Am I leaving any footprints?”

  Spencer directed his beam along the concrete from his toes until it outlined Thane’s heels. “No. In fact, it doesn’t even smell particularly dusty back here. Shouldn’t it?”

  “You’d think so. ‘Course, considering the cleaning frenzy Helga’s been on, maybe we shouldn’t be too surprised.”

  It was the first mention Thane had made of his cancelled engagement party, and he was trying to make Spencer feel better. It made him feel worse. How could he have suspected his own twin of wishing April harm? He’d almost let the vile suspicions drive a wedge between them. Thank God, that hadn’t happened. If the news of April wasn’t going to be good, he would need his brother more than anyone else.

  “Ah ha. Another one. Crap! It’s boarded up, too.” Thane absently grasped the end of a plank. The board pulled away from the others. “Yikes!” He jumped back a step. The board dropped to the floor and landed on his toes. “Ouch.”

  “What are you doing?” Spencer waved his beam over his twin.

  Thane pointed to the boarded section that was now missing a strip of wood. “I touched a plank and it came loose in my hand.”

  They concentrated both beams across the other planks.

  Thane leaned closer, examining them. “Somebody’s loosened all the nails.”

  Spencer’s heart raced with hope. “Recently?”

  “No. I’d say it was done years ago.”

  “Why?”

  “You got me.”

  Spencer wasn’t ready to give up yet. “How about that access you mentioned near the former staircase?”

  “It should be over there.” Thane stepped over the fallen plank and flicked his light along the wall ahead. “What’s that?”

  Spencer aimed his beam to the area in question, then frowned, doubting what his eyes told him. The texture of the wall altered drastically from rugged concrete to an unnatural smoothness.

  “It’s a blanket,” Thane exclaimed, reaching it first. “Someone’s hung an old blanket here.”

  “A blanket?”

  “Yeah. It’s the color of the cement.”

  Spencer hurried to his brother’s side, clutched an edge of the blanket and lifted. Even before he shined his light into the dark hole, Spencer felt the cool stale air, caught the odor of dank earth. His heart gave an unsteady leap.

  “Well, I’ll be…” Thane sounded more excited than he. Which just wasn’t possible. For five whole seconds they stared at one another, contemplating what they’d discovered.

  Finally Spencer said, “Obviously someone doesn’t want this access to be readily detected.”

  “But why isn’t it boarded up like the others?”

  “There’s only one way to find out.”

  They stepped into the mouth of the cavern. The blanket flopped into place behind them, furled against their backsides, then stilled. The crudely carved tunnel had been cut through the earth over a hundred years ago, and Spencer eyed the rafters dubiously. On closer inspection they seemed solid enough. The width and the height of the place were impressive.

  Thane said, “Remember August saying that old Octavius used to run a pony and cart through one of the passageways to the Cliffside to pick up whatever was being shipped in?”

  “This has to be the one.” Spencer glanced over his shoulder at the blanket. “How did the cart and horse get in and out of the basement?”

  “Seems like August said the larder. I believe from the outside it once looked like any root cellar, but inside there used to be a narrow ramp way.”

  At any other time, Spencer would have enjoyed the history lesson but not now. “April!”

  They had gone about ten feet, walking in silence, prodding the dark with their beams when an acrid stench assailed Spencer’s nostrils. “What’s that awful odor?”

  “I don’t know.”

  A flapping sound arose.

  Suddenly something swooped off one of the rafters and dived for Spencer’s hair. He swore. Ducking, he wrapped his hands protectively about his head. “What the hell was that? Birds?”

  “Bats.”

  “That explains the smell, but how did they get in here?”

  “They’re all over the island. These tunnels are probably teeming with them.”

  “Shouldn’t they be hibernating this time of year?”

  “Yeah. But I read somewhere that they can be awakened when
disturbed.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “April!” Heedless of sleeping bats, Spencer called her name every few seconds. The word resounded off the tunnel walls and throbbed emptily inside his ears without answer.

  “Look.” Thane had pulled to a stop.

  Coming up behind him, Spencer splayed his light into the darkness ahead. The tunnel was cluttered by a wall of cobwebs that dangled from the rafters like shredded white hosiery. A scattered pile of rat or bat droppings littered the earthen floor, but he saw nothing to account for the wonderment in his brother’s voice. Disappointed and growing impatient again, he griped, “What?”

  “Not there.” Thane grasped Spencer’s flashlight and yanked it toward their right. “There.”

  Outlined in the limited beam, he saw a man-sized slit in the dirt wall. Surprise and puzzlement curled through him. He moved closer, panned the light into the opening, then stepped back and played it across the entire section of wall. An almost imperceptible line circled what appeared to be a massive boulder.

  Spencer touched the stone. The composition was as hard as any rock, but it felt different. He tapped the end of his flashlight against it. The clink of metal hitting metal rewarded the effort.

  “What the hell is it?” Thane demanded, moving closer.

  “It seems to be some kind of door. Hold this.” He handed Thane his flashlight and applied his palms to the rock, shoving hard. It moved inward with such unexpected ease, Spencer lost his balance. He pitched to the ground. His knee banged painfully against the first of three crudely chiseled stone steps just inside the opening.

  “Well, I’ll be…” Thane said, stepping over him and fanning both beams into the dark cavity. The passage was barely wide enough and tall enough to suit the average man, and not five feet in, it veered to the right, taking what appeared to be a 180 degree turn. “Isn’t this interesting?”

  Rising, Spencer brushed at his slacks. “I don’t recall any mention of secret passageways opening into other parts of the house, do you?”