by Amy Cross
Taking my hand, he leads me into the reception and then up to the first floor. "It's the largest room in the whole damn building," he says as he opens the door and shines the flashlight inside to disturb the darkness. "Welcome to the master suite. It's a little dusty, but I don't think we're going to get away from the dust while we're here. What do you think?"
I step into the room and find that, surprisingly, it's not too bad. It's fairly large, and there's a big double bed over on one side. "We need to open a window," I say, walking over and struggling with the latch for a moment before I'm finally able to slide the window up. A cool breeze enters the room, immediately making the place seem less stuffy. "Give it a few minutes," I say, "and it should feel a lot better". I turn and shine the flashlight across the room. "Nice wallpaper," I add, feeling slightly creeped out by the yellow patterns all over the walls.
"You think you can sleep in here?" Bill asks with a smile as he pushes the door shut and drops his rucksack on the floor. "You sure you won't be listening out for ghouls and ghosts?"
"I'll try to keep my imagination in check," I reply. "Like a good girl".
"Bed's firm," he says, pushing a hand down onto the mattress. "We'll have to test it out later".
"Maybe," I say, smiling as I spot something on the wall by the window. "Jesus, look at this," I say, shining the flashlight onto what turns out to be a small painting. It's an old, fairly crude picture of a woman bending over some washing, while a little devil hides nearby. "Talk about some Freudian shit," I say. "You know, I bet the woman in this painting would have loved it if the devil had jumped her and given her a good session in the sack. I bet all the women of Devil's Briar used to hang up their washing and get all quivery at the thought that some horned beast was eying them up".
"What nice young lady doesn't want to be deflowered by a devil?" Bill asks, coming over to look at the painting. He puts a hand on my waist and leans closer, kissing the side of my neck. "What do you think the good folk of Devil's Briar would say if they could see us now?"
"I think they'd be shocked and appalled," I say, turning to him. We kiss, and - as always - it's passionate but slightly forced. Neither of us wants to admit that we're not really feeling it, so we both go through the motions. We're good at pretending to want one another, and soon we're on the bed. Bill unbuttons my shirt and slips my bra away, exposing my breasts before leaning down to kiss my nipples. Putting his hand on the side of my right breast, he strokes the skin. I take a deep breath, reaching down to start unbuttoning his trousers and -
"No!" I say suddenly, pulling away and looking across the room. I pull my shirt closed, to cover myself up.
"What's wrong?" Bill asks.
"Nothing," I say, "I just..." I look around, and see that there's no-one here. Taking the flashlight from the table, I double-check. "I felt like someone was watching us," I say after a moment, feeling my heart racing in my chest. "Like, I really really felt like someone was right here, in the room, staring at us".
"There's no-one," Bill replies, looking a little concerned. "Seriously, Paula, come on, you know how the human mind works. The door didn't open. A place like this is bound to feel odd, but don't take that perfectly natural reaction and spin it into a load of supernatural bullshit".
"I'm not," I say, still glancing nervously around the room. What I felt was more than just 'supernatural bullshit'. I really thought for a moment that there was someone watching as Bill was caressing my breasts. I didn't see anyone, but I got a really strong impression of a presence. Damn it, I feel so stupid.
"The brain processes signals in irrational ways sometimes," Bill continues. "You sense what you think is a -"
"I know!" I snap at him, still feeling uncomfortable. "You don't have to fucking explain how the brain works. I know, okay?"
"Okay," he replies, sounding a little annoyed. After a pause, he reaches out and slips his hand back under my shirt, cupping my breast.
"Now now," I say, pushing him away. If we were anywhere else, I'd be seriously considering moving rooms just to get away with him. Bill has this habit of patronizing me, and treating me as if no matter how smart I am, I'll never be his intellectual equal. We joke about ghosts and monsters hiding in the shadows, but I know he's waiting for me to get creeped out by this place; he wants me to seem weak, and I just gave him a sneak preview by getting freaked out.
"There's nothing here," he says.
I take a deep breath. "Do we really know that?" I ask. "I mean, sure, this place looks abandoned and empty, but we haven't been door to door, checking every building. I'm not talking about ghosts, Bill. I'm talking about people who might be living here, making this place their home".
"There's no-one," he replies, sighing as if he's talking to a child. "First, the streets clearly haven't been disturbed for years. Second, there's no power, there's no food, there's no water. We have supplies from the truck, but how do you think people would keep themselves alive if they lived here?" He pauses. "Don't get irrational, Paula".
"Don't talk to me like that," I reply firmly. "I'm not being irrational".
"You just thought someone was here in the room with us," he says. "You're letting this place get to you".
"I'm letting you get to me," I say. "Look, I don't like this place. I don't like being here. I've agreed to stay for one night, and I'll help you with your work tomorrow, but then we have to get out of here. You can come back with other researchers all you want, but my involvement with Devil's Briar ends after we drive away tomorrow. Is that clear?"
"Sure," he says, reaching up to touch my breasts again.
"Not now," I say, pushing his hand away. "We should probably get some sleep. I'm assuming you want to be up early tomorrow?"
Nodding, he gets up and walks over to the door. "I'm going to find the bathroom," he says, clearly a little annoyed with me. "Will you be okay in here by yourself?"
"Of course I will," I say. Once he's gone, though, I realize that I was lying. As much as my rational mind insists that there's nothing to fear about Devil's Briar, and as much as I tell myself that there's no such thing as ghosts, there's a part of me that thinks differently. That feeling of being watched was so intense and so vivid, it's hard to believe it was all in my head. Then again, the human mind is a powerful thing. Taking a series of deep breaths, I finally manage to calm myself down. I button my shirt back up, figuring I'd rather sleep with my clothes on tonight, and then I get up and walk over to the window. Outside, the main square of Devil's Briar is shrouded in the dark of night. It's so strange to see all those empty buildings, and to wonder where the people went. Bill's right about one thing: the entire population of a town doesn't just vanish.
Grabbing Bill's rucksack, I sort through the packs of prepacked sandwiches he's brought for us, and I finally pull one out and set it on the table by the bed. Once Bill is back from the bathroom, I go and use the toilet before coming back to the room and getting back onto the bed. Bill seems to have settled down for the night already, which I guess means he's giving me the cold shoulder. Typical. He can be so childish sometimes; I just want to grab him and shake him, and tell him he needs to grow up and talk to me like I'm an equal. I swear, he's the kind of man who views a wife as a kind of assistant.
Although Bill has got under the bedsheets, I decide to just sleep on top, so I settle down. I'm not particularly hungry, so I leave the sandwich for now and try to get some sleep. Something about this bed, though, feels very wrong, and I find myself tossing and turning. Even after Bill starts to snore, I find that I'm wide awake. I stare up at the ceiling for a while, waiting for that feeling of being watched to return. Thankfully, I manage to stay calm and although I remain awake for several hours, I never once feel as if there's someone in the room with us. I guess I really was just letting the situation get on top of me. Damn it, I wish I hadn't let Bill realize I was getting scared.
Eventually checking my watch, I see that it's just after 2am, which means I've been awake in bed for almost three hours. Still
not feeling tired, but not fancying the idea of getting up and going for a wander around the hotel alone, I reach out for the sandwich. In the dark, I struggle to find the packet before finally my hand brushes it and I hear it fall onto the floor. With a sigh, I reach down and try to find the damn thing. My fingers move through a half-inch layer of dust, but the sandwich packet remains obstinately out of reach. I lean over the side of the bed, but I can't see anything on the floor, which means it must have somehow slipped under the bed. Sighing again, I reach under, feeling slightly disgusted by all the dust. We probably should have given the room more of a clean before we slept in here; God knows how much dust there must be in the air, and how much is going to get into our lungs.
Still not finding the sandwich packet, I sigh yet again and get up, grabbing the flashlight and crouching by the bed. I switch the light on and shine it across the floor, finally spotting the packet between the bedside table and the bed itself. I reach down and grab it, brushing off the dust that has already accumulated, and then - as I'm about to get back up - I happen to shine the flashlight under the bed. I freeze instantly, my blood running cold as I realize what I'm looking at. Under the bed, looking straight at me with its hollow eyes and its toothy grin, there's an entire human skeleton.
Epilogue
1925.
"I trust you have recovered from your ordeal," Thomas Paternoster says as he enters my office. "As I understand things, Lawrence Evans was something of a ruffian and you were lucky to escape unscathed from the encounter".
"Every town has a black sheep," I reply, closing the door and leading him to my desk. "I like to think that God was with me in that room, and ensured I would face no real danger. On a lighter note, I'm afraid you must excuse my deficient hospitality. Since Adelaide's sudden passing, I have not yet had time to find a suitable replacement. It can be so difficult to find good help these days".
"I understand completely," he says, taking a seat. "If my niece Victoria can be of help, please don't hesitate to ask. She's a good girl, and very reliable. She lacks experience, but I'm sure a man such as yourself could train her up quite quickly". He pauses. "I'm sorry, Mayor Caster. I don't mean to put you in an uncomfortable position. I'm sure you -"
"It's a very kind offer," I say hurriedly, before he has time to change his mind. "I would be extremely grateful to have Victoria help out around here. There is a small stipend that comes with the role, of course".
"Entirely unnecessary," Mr. Paternoster replies. "Please, allow us to contribute to the effective running of your office. Consider it a gesture of goodwill".
"That's very kind of you," I say, "and I would be honored to accept". In truth, I can barely believe my luck. I had hoped to broach the subject of spending time with Victoria, and now Mr. Paternoster has delivered her directly to me. Once she is working for me, it should be little trouble to persuade her that a more formal, more lasting arrangement would be better for us both. Perhaps I'll have a wife by the end of the year.
"Alas," Mr. Paternoster continues, "my niece's prospects are not the primary reason for my visit. Obviously I came to ask about your health following the nasty incident with Lawrence Evans, but there is another matter that I wish to discuss. As I told you during our first meeting, I can see the pain and decay that have set root in Devil's Briar. I wish to make this place my home, and I believe that the first step in doing so should be for me to make a meaningful contribution to the health and vitality of the community". He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. "Mayor Caster, am I right in thinking that you, Sir, are a man of faith?"
"I am," I reply proudly.
"I envy you," he says. "Myself, I have to admit that I've struggled. My faith ebbs and flows like the tide. I was raised by God-fearing parents, but in my adult life I'm afraid I have seen things that have shaken my faith to the point where..." He pauses, looking genuinely troubled for a moment. "I am only thirty-five years old, but I have traveled a great deal and I have seen things..." He puts the piece of paper on the table, and I notice that his hand is shaking; he quickly puts the hand under his coat, as if to hide it. "I hope you will not think me a bad man, Mayor Caster, simply because I have been honest with you here today".
"Not at all," I reply. I sense that this man is suffering a great deal, but also that he can yet be saved. God welcomes back to his flock all those who seek his forgiveness, and I'm quite sure that Thomas Paternoster is genuine when she speaks of this struggle he has endured. I can only hope that Victoria's faith is somewhat more robust, otherwise I shall have to fortify her belief before I ask for her hand in marriage. "As the Lord says," I continue, "one must not judge other men, but try to help them".
"Amen," Mr. Paternoster says. "I find myself drawn more and more toward science, Mayor Caster, but let me be clear. I do not see science and God as rivals. Indeed, I believe that it is through science that I shall perhaps find a path back to God. That is my fervent desire". He pauses for a moment. "I note that Devil's Briar has a very modest place of worship. Your church, Mayor Caster, is rundown and in need of considerable restoration".
"We are working slowly to rectify the problem," I reply. "Little by little, we are gathering the necessary funds to -"
"I want to pay for your church to be fully restored," he says, interrupting me. "Whatever it takes, I will provide. Furthermore, as a token of my goodwill, I wish to pay for a beacon to be erected in the heart of town. Something that marks this place out as a God-fearing community that would serve as a model for the whole country". He reaches over and slides the piece of paper across to me. "I wish to pay for the construction and erection of a crucifix that will stand in the heart of Devil's Briar and serve as a focal point for the kindness, the decency, the honesty and above all the faith of all the people who call this place their home".
Unfolding the piece of paper, I see that Mr. Paternoster has sketched out a representation of the town square, and in the middle he has drawn what appears to be a huge crucifix, towering many feet into the air. It's a striking feature, the likes of which I have myself never before seen, but it has a certain attraction. "It is a wonderful idea," I say, a little surprised by Mr. Paternoster's determination, "but I do not see how such a thing could possibly be constructed. We do not have the materials, or the tools, or the expertise..."
"All of which I will provide," he says. "A forty-foot crucifix, made of iron. Cutting-edge technology. The most modern symbol possible of this town's faith in God, and also a sign that science can still be a God-fearing endeavor". He pauses. "I must be honest with you, Mayor Caster. This proposal is not entirely selfless. I wish to create something that unites my faith and my scientific curiosity. This crucifix will be the most magnificent symbol. People will come from miles around. Devil's Briar will become one of the most celebrated and famous places in the whole world, and this crucifix will stand for the rest of time as testament to the beliefs that will keep this community strong".
I stare at the piece of paper. Paternoster's plan appears ludicrous, and almost impossible to implement. Then again, perhaps I can use this situation to my own advantage. If the crucifix is completed, it will galvanize the community and encourage people to see that Devil's Briar has a future. As Mayor, I will naturally be in a position to shape and define this new sense of purpose. On the other hand, if it fails, Mr. Paternoster will be the one who takes all the blame, and I can swoop in with a more modest but realistic idea. Given the recent drama involving Lawrence, I feel the town needs to get talking about something else, rather than dwelling on a matter that I would prefer to see forgotten.
"I think this is a wonderful idea," I say finally. "Mr. Paternoster, I have no idea how you plan to construct this wonderful symbol of our town's devotion, but I wish you all the best and I assure you that my office will provide whatever assistance you require. Financial means might be a little beyond our purview, but in all other matters I will be standing right behind you. I think I speak for everyone in Devil's Briar when I welcome you and you
r niece most whole-heartedly to our little community". I reach across and shake his hand. "Might I ask how long you think it will take to complete construction of the crucifix?"
"Just a few weeks at most," he replies. "I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. It is not only the crucifix itself that is intended as a tribute to the Dear Lord, but also the manner in which it shall be raised".
"I look forward to it," I say. The man is certainly ambitious, but it remains my estimation that such an undertaking cannot end in any other way than abject failure, in which case I shall be poised to seize the limelight once again. I fully expect Mr. Thomas Paternoster to be on his way from Devil's Briar within the month, although I certainly intend to have dear Victoria remain behind as my housemaid and, ultimately, as my wife and the mother to my children.
"I should let you get on with your work," Mr. Paternoster says, standing up. "A man such as yourself must be very busy".
"I do have to manage my time rather carefully," I say, getting to my feet and struggling over to the door. I really must go and collect my walking cane from the hotel. "However, I my door is always open to a man such as yourself, Mr. Paternoster. Please, come and see me whenever you are able".
"I shall send Victoria over first thing in the morning," he says.
"That will be excellent," I reply.
"Good day," Mr. Paternoster says as he leaves. Pushing the door shut, I take a deep breath and reflect upon the fact that my prospects are currently looking rather good. The local community sees me as a hero for cutting down the vile Lawrence Evans, and there are but a few loose ends to tie up so that no-one ever learns the truth of my connection with that murderous rogue. Meanwhile, I have a lovely young lady coming to work for me, plus the prospect of her uncle's ridiculous crucifix project. I'm quite certain that by the end of the month, I shall be in a much improved position. When Victoria is -