The older man grinned in return. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Don. Let’s finish this job before you go all Romeo on me.”
They opened the steam-room door and went inside. Even now, weeks after being trapped in there, Emily stood outside, peering in at them, unwilling to cross the threshold. The men had apparently left a ladder in there for their use, and the younger man, Don, climbed up it in order to fiddle with something on the ceiling. The older man handed him tools as he worked, calling out advice about adjustments.
She was so wrapped up in what she was watching, she hadn’t noticed Margot’s approach until she was right behind her. Frightened, she jumped a little and ducked out of the way. Margot stood in precisely the spot where Emily had been a moment before, watching the men work. It took them a moment to realize she was there, and they both smiled at her, uncertain.
“Anything I can do to help?” Margot asked.
The men shared a look, and the older one shook his head. “No, miss. Don’t worry. We’ve got this handled.”
“I couldn’t help but overhear you earlier,” Margot said. “It sounded like you said you needed a third set of hands. I’m no expert, but I can do something if it’s easy.”
Again, the men shared a look. Like Emily, they seemed startled to realize that she’d overheard them, and judging from their guilty expressions, they were wondering if she’d heard what Don had said about her earlier.
Don, still up on the ladder, shrugged. “Okay, if you don’t mind, miss. See the three knobs out there by the door?”
Margot peered around. “Yes.”
“The red one is for temperature, the black one is for pressure, and the last one, the green one, is a timer.”
“Okay.”
“When we’re ready, I want you to turn the black one, and I’ll tell you how far. I have to adjust the pressure valve up here, and Paul can tell me if I’m doing it right better from in here than out there. Please don’t touch the other knobs. We have the temperature pretty low now so we won’t get burned, and it heats up real quick if you turn the red knob.”
Margot laughed. “Is that all? Even silly old me can turn a knob.”
The older man, Paul, grinned stupidly. “Of course, Miss Lewis.”
The men continued to work inside, and Margot stood there watching them. This was the first time Emily had gotten a good look at her face, and she studied it intently. Margot had aged significantly since the last time Emily had seen her. She had lines around her mouth and eyes but had aged beautifully, overall. She was much more attractive in this era than in any period Emily had seen her in the past. She seemed to have grown into her long features. She wasn’t what anyone would call pretty, but, like the pictures Emily had seen from that period, she was strangely beautiful in a handsome, hard way. Her eyes, however, were empty and dead. She was smiling, ostensibly for the men, but the smile didn’t rise beyond her mouth. Emily was likely projecting a little, but she couldn’t help but shiver at the coldness in her eyes.
After a while, a long, low hiss came from within the steam room. “Miss Lewis, please twist the black knob to the left about halfway!” Don said, raising his voice.
“Like this?” Margot replied, turning the knob. The hissing grew louder.
“Yes!” Don shouted, his voice muffled by the sound. He was adjusting things on the ceiling, and water was dripping from the pipes that ran the length of the room. After he turned a few screws, the water was replaced with steam, which started issuing from the pipes in little bursts of white clouds. Paul, the older man, was frantically handing Don different tools, and Don continued to adjust several screws and knobs on the ceiling. A moment later, he was obscured by the steam.
“Twist it to about three-quarters to the left!” Don shouted.
By now, the men were essentially invisible, and Margot turned the knob again as requested. “How’s that?”
“Perfect!” Don said. His voice was almost inaudible, dampened by the hissing steam. The steam room was now simply a wall of white swirls, completely impenetrable.
The next time Don spoke, his voice was so distant, Emily had to lean forward to catch the last of his words. “All the way to the left!”
Margot turned it all the way, and the hissing, which was already very loud, became even louder, almost painful to her ears. The steam pouring out of the room was dense and hot, and Emily took a few steps away from it, sweat pouring down her face. Had she waited a moment longer, she might have seen something in Margot’s eyes, a warning perhaps, but as it was, she saw only what happened next.
Margot pushed the steam room closed. She didn’t move quickly or slowly, her action at first seemingly innocent. She was, however, careful to close the door quietly, and it clicked, echoing across the tiled pool room. Her face was still calm, and she moved away from the door toward the construction materials on the floor. A couple of boxes of tile, some covered buckets, and several tools were there, one of which was a tall hoe. Margot bent, picked it up, and walked back to the door. She lodged the pole of the hoe under the handle to the door, effectively locking it. Then she stood there a long time, doing nothing, before she turned to study the knobs again. She twisted the red one all the way to the left.
Seconds later, a muffled scream came from within, along with the sound of something metal falling onto the ground—the ladder, if Emily had to guess. She could hear vague, distant shouts and screams inside, and then the door started rattling as Don or Paul tried to open it. Someone was pounding inside, and she could hear him crying for help, his screams frantic and pleading but significantly muffled.
Margot had backed away, and Emily, who had watched all of this in a daze, finally saw her face. Her expression was still calm, but a slight smile twisted her lips, and for once, the smile shone in her eyes. She’d backed away from the door a few steps, almost as if she were afraid it would open, but, seeing that the pole was working to hold it closed, she widened her smile and edged closer. She tested the door and then leaned forward, pressing her ear to it. As she did, her smile brightened even further. She looked happier than Emily had ever seen her.
Already, the shouts inside were growing fainter, the pounding on the door more erratic, weaker, and less frequent. She couldn’t be sure, but the sounds seemed to be coming from lower down, as if one of the men was on the floor now as he pounded to get out.
All of this had taken very little time. Even in her shocked daze, Emily would have guessed that perhaps one or two minutes had passed since Margot locked the door, maybe less. Emily had backed away from the door about ten feet, too horrified to stand and watch any of this closely. The smile on Margot’s face chilled her straight through. It was like seeing the face of evil itself.
She turned, ready to run away, but after a step toward the pool, she stopped, turning back to the on-going horror. Margot still bent close to the door, her hands and ear pressed against it. From Emily’s current position, it would be possible to remove the pole of the hoe simply by pushing it aside. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she tried. So far, her physical interaction with these different timelines had been minimal. She was, however, wet from the pool, and the steam had been hot, so she might have some corporeal presence here. Something else occurred to her. Twice now she’d almost touched one of the Lewises, and some instinct deep within her made her leap aside both times to avoid it.
Trembling now, she made herself retrace her steps, stopping a few feet behind Margot. Her every instinct told her to leave, to run back to the pool and swim to safety. That same part of her, some deep calm feeling from within, told her she would be allowed to leave, to go back to her own time. She knew then what she had to do.
Emily pushed the hoe to the side, releasing the door.
The hoe clattered onto the ground, making Margot jump. A second later, the door handle moved, and Margot had to push it with her hands to keep it closed. A voice from within escaped, a startled “Help!” but Margot managed to close the door again using the weight of her body.
She dug her heels in, her back braced against the steam-room door, her mouth twisted in a determined snarl.
The door behind her slid open again for a second, and another shout escaped, but once again Margot managed to slam it closed. She grabbed the door handle and pulled it, keeping the mechanism from opening from within, and when she realized that this worked better than holding the door with her body, she turned and braced herself to continue to hold it closed. She was clearly struggling, her face distorted and strained with effort, and Emily saw her hands go white with the effort to keep the handle from moving.
Efforts inside eventually weakened. After a while, little sound came from within. An occasional bang on the door was followed by the handle jiggling in Margot’s hands, but never once did Margot relax. She stayed there, pulling the handle, her feet braced at the bottom of the door, trembling with effort.
Again, Emily wanted to leave. She could feel an almost physical pull toward the pool, toward escape. After all, she remembered how this turned out. Harry had told them that two men had died in an accident in the steam room—this must be them. Harry hadn’t given them any details, hadn’t known them, but Emily was certain that her suspicions were correct.
Margot had killed these men, or rather, she was killing them now. Still, Emily had been able to move the hoe, and if she didn’t try one more thing, she’d never forgive herself. Her next effort went against every instinct she had. The very idea made her skin crawl, but she had to try. Emily placed her hands on Margot Lewis’s shoulders.
It was all she could do not to let go immediately. At first, a deep, penetrating cold went through her, a chill so cold it burned with intensity. She fought it and squeezed harder, and finally, as if she could barely reach across the small distance between them, she felt the skin on Margot’s bare shoulders. Again, she almost let go, the sensation so repulsive she would have given anything to stop touching her. She didn’t.
Margot screamed and spun around, crumpling to the ground a moment later. Her hands went to her shoulders, and her eyes rolled around in wild panic. Emily could see two red marks on her shoulders, and from the way Margot clutched at herself, Emily could tell she was in pain. She snatched at one of Margot’s wrists, and again, Margot howled on contact. Bracing herself on the ground, Emily started to drag her away from the door. Margot fought, hard, twisting and screaming, so Emily used her second hand to get a better grip on the same arm. When she touched Margot’s forearm with her second hand, Margot screamed again, this time relaxing enough for Emily to drag her a few feet before she came to her senses again. Margot struggled into a crouching position, pulling back and away from Emily so hard she slipped out of Emily’s grasp. Margot wasn’t ready to be released, and she fell onto the ground, her mouth snapping closed. Emily saw a trail of blood start to drip down her chin. She’d bitten her own tongue.
Released now, Margot sprang to her feet and backed away quickly, her eyes darting around, looking for her attacker. She’d lost what fright she’d had, her face now contorted with rage. She was clutching her wrist to her chest with her other hand and crouched low as if to ward off assault.
“You can’t stop me, Julia,” Margot hissed, her eyes still darting around. “You couldn’t stop me before, and you can’t stop me now.”
“Maybe Julia can’t, but I can,” Emily said.
Margot froze, her face pointed in Emily’s direction. She narrowed her eyes, but her gaze still looked beyond where Emily stood, unseeing. “Who said that?”
Emily was startled. She hadn’t expected Margot to hear her. Before, any sound she made in any part of the past had been seemingly inaudible. Something had changed, perhaps through the physical contact they’d shared. Still, it appeared Margot couldn’t see her, so she took a step toward her.
She took a deep breath and raised her voice to a shout. “Leave. Now.”
Margot flinched, still clutching her injured wrist to her body. A moment later, she tried to pretend she hadn’t been frightened. Her face grew nonchalant and calm, and she stood up straighter. Emily had seen her do this a few times—cover up her real feelings—so she knew it was pure bravado.
“Make me,” Margot said, her voice calm.
Without hesitating, Emily charged her and pushed her down with both hands. Margot fell to the ground with a bone-rattling crunch, calling out in fright and pain. Emily kicked her once, hard, in the ribs, and Margot screamed. She was quick to move aside, as a moment later Margot groped around blindly, trying to grab Emily’s leg.
Again, she raised her voice to a shout. “Leave. Now. Leave or I’ll kill you.”
Margot’s lips were still screwed into an angry snarl, but Emily thought she saw real fright in her eyes now. She was losing the ability to pretend she wasn’t affected by what was happening. Slowly, she crawled to her feet, cringing. She stood for a moment in a kind of half-crouch, panting. She threw one last look at the steam-room door, and then, without another word, she left, walking neither slowly nor quickly to the pool-house door. She opened it and left without turning around.
Emily went to the steam-room door a moment later and threw it open. Instead of steam, however, the doorway revealed that strange, swirling blackness she had seen during the séance, the one that seemed to separate the different time periods she’d experienced. Without hesitating, she plunged into its depths.
She was almost overcome and staggered once she’d reached the other side. As it was, she had to sink onto one knee to keep from falling. She was deafened for a moment before her ears popped, and then the room tilted and shuddered into existence around her. Finally, some kind of reality came into focus, and she found herself, once again, inside the steam room.
She heard something to her right and turned in time to see June launching herself across the room. June bowled her over in an embrace, and they both hit the floor, clasped together and crying.
“You came for me, you came for me,” June kept repeating, kissing her lips and face over and over again.
Emily kissed her and then pulled back a little, meeting her tear-stained eyes. “Of course. I’d never leave you here. And I’ll never leave you again, June. Never.”
June nodded and started crying harder, and Emily hugged her again, letting her cry onto her shoulder. Tears were falling, unheeded, from her own eyes, and she squeezed June, nearly overwhelmed by the depths of her relief.
Eventually they moved apart, both of them sitting on the floor of the steam room. Emily couldn’t keep her eyes off June. She still couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Still, it was strangely cold in here, and June was shivering. She rubbed June’s arms briskly, frightened to feel the chill in her skin. June looked both wonderful and terrible at the same time. Wonderful, because she was here, but terrible, physically. They’d been separated, at most, a little over an hour, but June’s appearance had completely altered. Her face was sunken, the skin stretched tight on her cheekbones, her lips cracked and bleeding. Her light summer clothes were tattered and grimy, her skin dull and pale.
“How long have you been here?”
June shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “Days? A week? Longer? I don’t know. I lost all track of time. I managed to get one of the pipes to open a little, so we’ve had water, but it’s hard to get enough to drink unless you sit there sucking on it.”
“We?”
June gestured behind Emily, who turned to see Harry, lying on the tiled shelf that functioned as a seat. He was strangely motionless.
“Is he alive?”
“Barely. He lost consciousness yesterday, I think, but he’s still breathing. He’s been here without food, like me, but much longer.”
Emily struggled to stand before helping June. She led her over to the seat next to Harry, helping her sit. June sank down with relief, clearly weak enough that walking was an effort. Emily leaned down and put her face close to Harry’s mouth. She could faintly detect breath coming from it, and when she checked his pulse, it was weak and fluttering, the skin on his wrist wor
ryingly cold.
She turned to say something to June and then stopped when she saw her face. June was staring straight ahead, clearly terrified, her eyes fixed on something behind Emily, who spun, quickly, but relaxed a moment later. The doorway out of the steam room was open, and once again it was filled with the swirling blackness she’d come through several times before.
She put a hand on June’s shoulder. “It’s okay. That’s how we get out of here.”
June still appeared frightened. “Can we? Can we go now? Please? I can’t stand it in here any longer.”
“Of course. Help me with Harry.”
It took some effort. Emily was a weakling on a good day, and this wasn’t one of those. She shook with the strain. Beyond the swim and the panic she’d felt at losing June, the experience with Margot before she’d come in here had taken something out of her. She felt as if she’d done hard manual labor all day, her body sore and aching. She was also significantly shorter than either Harry or June, so trying to brace him between the two of them under his arms wouldn’t work. Eventually, she and June decided to carry him between them, Emily taking his feet, June lifting him under his arms, and, before she could let June hesitate, they walked together through the doorway.
Emily had forgotten to warn June about the disorientation, and June staggered the moment she stepped through into the pool house, dropping Harry’s upper half and falling down with a little cry. Emily released Harry’s feet and crouched next to her, gripping her shoulder.
“It’s okay. Close your eyes and take deep breaths. It will go away soon.”
June took several, one hand on her forehead as if dizzy. Finally, she opened her eyes, smiling weakly. “I’m okay. Check on Harry.”
Emily left her and moved down next to Harry’s face again, putting her ear close enough to detect his breathing. It seemed, though she couldn’t be sure, a little stronger, surer, as did his pulse. His skin was still cold, however, and she wondered if they could find a blanket to wrap him in. She was about to share this idea with June, when June let out a strangled moan. She had one hand over her mouth and was pointing behind Emily. Emily spun around, almost slipping on the tile in her haste.
Gnarled Hollow Page 29