Uninvited

by David Anderson

  Nora stirred from her thoughts. “You’re all forgetting something,” she said quietly. All eyes turned her direction. “The missing axe. Somehow I can’t see a bear unhooking it off the wall as it strolled out the door.”

  There was an awkward silence, which Wheeler broke. “I’ll make sure Peterman and Marie check the house for intruders. In the meantime, we’ll search the surrounding area. I’d appreciate it if you’d all volunteer for that.”

  Wheeler locked up again and we trotted behind him, heads bowed in the rain, back to the house.

  “More mysteries than we had before,” Nora said in my ear.

  “Some trip this is turning out to be,” I replied.

  * * *

  Wheeler kitted us out in spare rain jackets and waterproof pants but wouldn’t allow us umbrellas. “You won’t see anything under an umbrella,” he said.

  As if we’d see much in this unrelenting downpour anyway.

  I pulled the hood up over my head, tied it tightly under my chin, and resigned myself to a long drenching.

  “I’ll search the rising ground out back, behind the shed,” Wheeler said, “Then work my way westwards for a bit. Georgia, you come with me.”

  She nodded but looked reluctant. It was obvious that, with Brett Sanders now out of the way, Wheeler was trying hard to hit on Georgia. The Mackies looked embarrassed and said they’d take the opposite direction, east and downriver. Toby would make a circle around the edge of the forest, which I thought was brave, considering there really could be bears around here. That left the area between the front of the house and the river for Nora and me. Peterman and Marie were staying in the house in case anything happened there, though none of us were sure what that meant.

  “Toby, take some bear repellent,” Abby said.

  “If you like,” Wheeler replied, “It’s in the cupboard there.”

  Abby fetched it and handed Toby a canister, who strapped the holstered can of bear spray around his waist. He looked like an overweight cowboy in an old Western movie.

  Abby looked around. “Anyone else want some?”

  There was a chorus of “I’ll take some,” “Just in case,” and “Me too.” Nora and I strapped on ours while Wheeler paced around impatiently.

  “I doubt there’s a bear nearby,” he said gruffly, “And I really doubt that the cayenne spray will work in this god-awful downpour. Anyway, if you encounter a grizzly or a black bear just shout and wave your arms then back away.”

  I didn’t find this advice particularly reassuring and I could tell that Nora didn’t either.

  Wheeler instructed us all to be back at the house no later than four o’clock.

  * * *

  “Stop complaining, we have the smallest area to search,” Nora said.

  “But it’s probably the most likely place,” I replied, retying my hood tighter over my head. I was well soaked already, despite the high quality raingear.

  “Then we’d best be systematic about it.” Nora was the great organiser and I could almost hear her brain ticking over. “See how the ground slopes down from here to the river, in a series of big steps?”

  “Like giant stairs,” I agreed obligingly.

  “You walk west, and I’ll walk east,” she continued, “When we get to the forest edge on each side, we take a few strides toward the river until we’re on the next step thingy, then make our way back to this path here in the middle. It will only take half the time that way.”

  It seemed almost like military marching to do it this way, but I agreed in order to keep the peace. There was no arguing with Nora when she got this kind of crazy brainwave. I started walking west. Several minutes later we duly met again at the more or less straight path leading down from the house to the river bank. Unlike the land on either side of it, the path had been smoothed over to allow vehicles like the golf cart to run up and down. Nora greeted me with a smile of success. Then, like those guys with big furry hats outside Buckingham Palace, we stepped down to the next level, turned and continued walking in opposite directions.

  “This is working really well, isn’t it?” Nora shouted enthusiastically when we met in the middle for the second time. I bit my lip and said nothing.

  Despite the heavy rain restricting visibility both of us must have had a pretty good sense of direction, as we kept meeting in the middle. After several more of these meet-and-greets I could see that Nora maybe had a point. We were certainly covering the ground quickly. And it was satisfying Nora’s deep need for systemisation. I watched her back disappear behind a dense curtain of torrential rain and resumed my trek westwards.

  By now my socks were like wet dishcloths and somehow water was getting inside my jacket collar and trickling down the back of my neck. Dim black shapes loomed up ahead, scraggly bushes at the forest edge. I stopped and stared into the dank gloom. Thought I saw bushes move.

  My hand went to the bear spray; I swallowed hard, found some courage from somewhere, and took another few steps forward. Bending low, I could tell that the groundcover here looked flattened, as if something had been lying on this patch of tall grass. Sanders’ body? What if he’d been dragged a bit further and was lying right there?

  I didn’t fancy finding the body on my own and wished that Nora was with me. Why had I agreed to her stupid ‘marching soldiers’ idea? I peered into the sheeting rain in front of me and couldn’t detect any more movement. Just take a very quick look, I told myself. I have to make sure – can’t leave Sanders’ body lying out here. What if it was found later on — where I was supposed to have looked? If I saw it, I’d immediately shout for help.

  Three more steps and I froze on the spot. Despite the rain, the day was still warm, and I was sweating underneath all the rain clothes. Now the temperature seemed to nosedive. I shivered uncontrollably and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. My head tingled and my vision blurred. A knot of sheer terror tightened in my gut and I felt like being sick.

  There was someone up ahead, someone or some thing, I knew it with absolute certainty. I wiped my eyes with my dripping, ice block hands and squinted into the rain. A dark shadow moved and my heart stopped beating. It’s waiting for me to come closer.

  I turned and ran, and kept running, my soaked shoes squelching in the grass, until I was well away from the bushes and out in open ground again. Sweat mingled with the rain on my forehead. I stooped over and took deep, calming breaths. Then I heard it.

  Weird groaning and feet stomping behind me, like some big person stumbling along like a toddler. And it was coming for me.

  Too terrified to look back, I started running again. A scream rose in my throat, but I couldn’t get it out of my mouth. God help me!

  I pulled up at the path leading from the house, my heart now pounding, thumping as if it would burst. Where is Nora? Where is she?

  Rivulets of water trickled down the narrow pathway and I slid and fell. My life suddenly depended on getting up quickly. I squirmed, twisted around, stood up again, peered into the rain from where I’d just come. No movement. My body started to warm, like closing a fridge door and stepping away, it was that sudden. Only it was the fridge that had stepped away. Somehow, I knew I was safe now, that some sort of contact had been broken. How the hell did I know any of this?

  “Are you okay?” Nora had arrived at last.

  I shook my head. “I saw something back there, edge of the forest.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t know. Could have been some kind of mammal, I guess. It startled me.”

  She knew immediately that I was lying. “It’s more than that.”

  “Yeah, it is. It wasn’t just a marten or a fox. I think it was a lot bigger.”

  Nora stared into my face as if she was reading me. “Human big?”

  I nodded. “And there’s more than that.”

  She waited patiently.

  “I had this strange feeling inside my head. Like mental contact. Sounds crazy, I know.”

  “It’s gone now?”

>   “Yup, I’m back to normal again. Let’s keep going, get this over with.”

  “Whatever it was could still be there,” Nora said quietly, “We’ll walk together from now on.”

  A wave of relief swept over me. “Thanks, sis.”

  “No problem. We’d better get the bear repellent out and have it ready.”

  We headed back to where I’d come from and this time I made sure I stopped well short of the thick undergrowth in front of the trees. There was nothing. We turned and headed eastward.

  After several more goes at this, we reached the riverbank. The rain eased off a bit and a weak sun struggled to shine through. Visibility improved but too late to help our search, which was now over. Or so I thought.

  “We’ve time yet,” Nora said, “We’re right at the dock. Let’s take a quick look in the boathouse, just in case.”

  I sighed loudly to no obvious effect. “May as well, I suppose.” My bladder felt like a well filled water balloon. “I’ll use the bathroom on the cruiser while we’re at it.”

  * * *

  The boathouse, where the canoes and other river equipment were stored, was gloomy and pleasingly empty of all animate life. I guess I could have asked Nora to turn her back while I peed in the water, but I was now feeling like I needed to do the dreaded twosies. We approached the cruiser and it looked steady in the water with the prow just a little low. A gangway was still attached to the lower deck.

  I led the way on board, went below and found the light switch in the cabin corridor. Of course, it didn’t work.

  “Safety precaution,” Nora explained, “They switch off electricity when the boat’s not in use.”

  “How do you know this stuff?” I replied. I opened the cabin doors as I went along and light shone in through the portholes. Each room was just as empty as when we’d left it. I ducked into a bathroom and did my business while Nora waited outside.

  “Let’s take a look at the damage, see if it’s any worse,” she said when I emerged, flushed with success.

  We made our way forward and down the short flight of stairs to the double doors leading into the boat’s prow. “Be careful opening it,” Nora warned, “Could be a lot of water on the other side.”

  “Only now you think of that?” I complained. I heeded her advice and yanked quickly on one of the door handles, ready to jump back if necessary. A stream of water flowed out over my shoes, but as they were soaked already I didn’t mind much.

  A ragged hole at about waist height let enough light in for us to make things out. The water on the floor was only a couple of inches deep at our end, deeper up front at the prow itself. A dank odour of sodden wood filled the room. Apart from the pool of grey, dirty water, with drink coasters, map cylinders, a ruler and other crap floating on it, there was nothing else to see. Compared to the rest of the boat, the state of this place was depressing.

  “Must be three or four feet deep up at the end,” Nora remarked.

  “You fancy a swim?” I joked. “My feet are soaked even worse now. Let’s get out of here.”

  Nora checked her watch. “You’re right; it’s time to get back to the house.” She pulled the doors closed, sloshing even more water over my feet.

  * * *

  Silence returned to the damaged boat. In the dim light of the forward storage area a floating map box finally sank, making an odd gurgling sound as it descended to the floor. All was still again, the surface of the water flat and even. Minutes passed.

  A tiny movement began at the apex of the prow, where the water was deepest. Air bubbles rose and broke the surface. There was a glugging sound of something coming to the surface. A hand rose out of the water, then the arm. Fingers grasped empty air.

  Sanders’ head emerged. Grimy water dripped off his face and his eyes slowly opened. Dead, unseeing eyes. Then a tiny spark of light glowed in each pupil, grew and filled the iris, and now those eyes could see again.

  * * *

  Peterman and Marie served a late supper without needing Nora and me, which we supposed was a reward for helping with the search. I scoffed the omelette and bacon dish like a starving man and washed it down with Chilean cabernet left over from the guests’ table. Nora scrounged Belgian chocolates and liqueurs from the big table too, and I had those with coffee. The meal seemed to drag on forever but eventually Wheeler invited everyone into the living room and Toby came over to us and told us to go there along with the guests. I looked at Peterman and he nodded his approval.

  In the vast, wood beamed living room, Nora and I made ourselves as inconspicuous as possible in a quiet corner where we sat on a green leather armchair and a matching square thing that I think was meant for feet. Everything in this room seemed to shine, from the leather chairs to the brass lamps to the varnished wooden pillars. I almost felt like wearing sunglasses.

  The others ignored us, especially after they discovered the bar. In five minutes they were sipping cocktails and knocking back double whiskeys.

  “Bit depressed, eh?” Nora said, keeping her voice low. She could always read me.

  I looked out the tall, floor to ceiling window, trying to pierce the darkness but could only see my own reflection. At least the rain had stopped. “Think we’ll have to search again tomorrow?” I replied.

  “Seems a bit pointless.”

  “I think so too. Sanders’ corpse must have been dragged away by some big beastie. It’s probably in the forest, what’s left of it.”

  Nora nodded. “Dismembered, eaten.”

  “Not a pretty sight.”

  Wheeler came in and held up his hands for silence. The murmur of voices stopped.

  “I didn’t want to say this earlier and spoil our supper. But I appreciate your co-operation today. We didn’t find what we were looking for, however it must be close by. Even a grizzly wouldn’t have taken it far.” Wheeler paused. “As for the axe, maybe Peterman mislaid it and doesn’t want to own up.”

  I scanned the guests and saw disbelief on their faces.

  “Anyway, let’s not allow it to spoil our vacation. Tomorrow we can plan some more activities. Tonight, we’ll unwind and enjoy ourselves. I’m glad you found the bar already. Be a good girl, Georgia, and top up everyone’s glasses.”

  Georgia stepped grudgingly behind the bar counter. “Hey, everyone, Julius has enough hard liquor here to last a lifetime,” she said, “Come and get more of whatever you’re drinking.”

  Ned Mackie joined her and eyed the well stocked shelves. “I’ll have another two fingers of that whiskey, please.”

  “Bring me another sherry, dear,” his wife said.

  “Knock yourself out.” Georgia set a bottle on the counter.

  Wheeler joined her behind the bar and poured himself half a glass of the whiskey. Georgia settled for a complicated thing she called a martini. She raised her fancy glass and looked at Wheeler inquiringly.

  “No fresh olives, Julius?”

  “Sorry, Peterman and Marie look after that and I gave them the rest of the night off. They’ll have gone up to bed by now.”

  Toby came toward us with a couple of cans of Canada Dry. “Best if you two stay sober,” he grinned.

  “Bridge, anyone?” Ned Mackie asked.

  Wheeler produced several brand new packs of cards and brought them over to a square table covered in green cloth. Ned Mackie, Toby and Georgia joined him and started playing cards. I couldn’t follow it very well, but Wheeler and Georgia won the first few hands, then faded fast and Ned and Toby took over the lead. Nora and I found a chessboard and played a few five minute games on it.

  The sound of a glass striking a hard surface made me look up quickly. Abby Mackie wiped sherry from a side table with a napkin. “Whoops,” she said, “Slipped out of my hand. Looks like I’ve had enough to drink.” She stood up. “Well, this is boring,” she continued, “I think I’ll go and write my journal in the kitchen.”

  “Write it here,” Ned said, his eyes now back on the cards.

  “Better if I do it alo
ne, I can concentrate that way.”

  “See you upstairs later then,” her husband replied.

  A vague alarm crept over me as I watched her close the living room door behind her.

  * * *

  Abby Mackie fetched her moleskin journal and fountain pen from upstairs and made her way to the kitchen at the back of the house. She brewed herself a strong coffee to clear her head then settled into the curving, multi-cushioned window seat and began to compose her thoughts. Despite the upsetting events of the last couple of days, or maybe because of them, she wanted to maintain her normal writing routine. It was important to her, a favourite activity not a chore, and it helped relax her after a long day. And it got her away from Ned for a while, with his annoying habits like shaking his leg and making those heavy breathing noises through his nose that almost drove her crazy.

  Already she could feel her creative juices starting to flow. Her pen moved over the blank page, the smooth nib making only the faintest scratching. At the bottom of the page she paused, drank coffee, and looked around her. The kitchen was a good place to write. If she went up to her bedroom she’d get assaulted by the pungent odour of Ned’s dirty socks lying on the floor, or sidetracked by interesting books in the bookcase, or the soft quilt on the bed enticing her to snooze.

  It was stuffy in the room – Julius kept the entire house overheated – and she was still a little heady after the sherry. She got up to open the window behind her. The catch was stiff with hardened paint and she almost gave up, but after a last hard push it slid open several inches. Damp, pine scented air filled her nostrils as she peered into the black night. She couldn’t make anything out in the darkness, but stood there anyway, enjoying a gentle breeze stroking her face.

  Someone, some thing, stood outside the window, creating this moment, drawing her closer.