“And what if it’s not pure?”
He smacked her hard on the cheek, and she let out an involuntary scream. His face changed, hardened, the lines deepened. “It will be pure. I was assured it was pure.”
Chapter 60
THE SILENCE OF the room seemed to be another presence of its own.
The man had left with the vial of blood and closed the door behind him, leaving Esther alone with her thoughts and fears. She heard nothing from the other side of the door.
Why did they need her blood? She supposed by pure he meant free of disease, venereal, hepatitis, and such. And what were the mistakes they made in the past, when they were too vicious? The thought of that made her skin tighten and shudder. She looked at the catheter in her arm and felt it. She had a notion to rip it out. But what good would that do? There was no escaping this place. If she tore it out, they’d only replace it and probably tie her down.
Despair climbed into her head and burrowed a hole. There was no hope.
Esther closed her eyes and let the tears come. But there was hope, wasn’t there? There was always hope. Words, ancient yet familiar, came back to her, words of comfort that she’d read and stored in her heart.
Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord.
All those years of living with Gary, huddled in her room, flashlight in hand, scanning the pages of the Bible, drinking in the words, holy and true. They were an endless source of comfort for her. And often, more times than not, she’d read aloud to William. She loved to see his eyes widen when she read from those pages. His faith stemmed from them, from the promises they contained, the words of life.
Yes, there was hope. It was just a point of light in the darkness of her mind, but she reached for it and took hold of it. It grew, and as it did, its warmth infused her with peace. Her lips began to move in prayer, asking for strength, for courage, for faith like William’s. And the more she prayed, the more she focused on the One who was the giver of hope, the brighter that light grew. William might be gone, but she wasn’t. She still had a purpose.
The door of the room opened and startled Esther out of her prayer. Harold stood in the doorway, his hand on the knob, a pistol in his other hand.
“We need to move you.” His voice was flat, even. “Let’s go.” He extended a hand toward her.
Esther didn’t want to go with him, but what choice did she have? She climbed out of the bed and walked to her father. He pointed the gun at her, and in his eyes, those black, empty eyes, she found a shadow of uncertainty. Oddly, he feared her.
“Are you going to use that on me?” she said.
He ignored her question. “Come on. This way.” He took her by the arm and led her down a different tunnel to yet another room. This one was similar to the other two in size and decor. It was furnished only by a wooden table and three chairs.
Harold nudged the gun in Esther’s side. “Sit.”
She did as she was told, and Harold closed the door behind them.
“Are you going to kill me?” She asked the question with all sincerity. The hope she had, the peace she now felt, brought no assurance of rescue or survival, only an assurance that no matter what happened, she would not be alone, and that was all she could ask for.
Harold lowered the gun but kept his eyes on her. “Eventually.”
Marny stood between the jambs and held his breath. He waited for something, but he wasn’t sure what. Maybe for William to do some of his magic and conjure a light. He wasn’t thrilled about walking down the long, dark tunnel with no weapon and no light. And if Esther was to be found at the other end, then chances were that Harold was too. Harold with his gun, big and black. The same Harold who had showed no hesitation in shooting William and him once already today.
Marny didn’t like the feel of that, of walking into gunfire, a death trap. But if William was right, if he was right, and Esther was indeed there, then he couldn’t just leave her. He had to move onward, regardless of the potential dangers involved.
Like the mouth of a beast with the corridor its endless throat, the doorway waited for them to enter so it could swallow them whole. Two thin copper pipes ran along the upper right corner of the tunnel, signifying that there had to be something at the other end of the blackness, something that needed a water supply.
“Can you glow?” Marny asked William.
It was a joke, but William didn’t laugh. “Esther’s down there, Marnin. We have to go to her.”
Marny knew it. Esther was down there. Plus, it made sense, didn’t it? Creepy tunnel under spooked-out house. Where else could she be? Marny doubted the tunnel led to Harold’s mancave where he got together with buddies and watched football and played cards. No, tunnels like this always led to something sinister, something evil, something that could only be done in a subterranean room at the end of a long passageway.
He had an odd sensation that on the other side of the darkness he would come face-to-face with his curse. He could sense it as well. Calling to him, luring him, bidding him come and witness the full power of its wrath and hunger.
He suddenly wanted to turn tail and bolt, but he was tired of running. It was time to face whatever was in store for him, whatever waited at the end of the tunnel.
“Okay,” Marny said. “But we go slow. I don’t want any surprises.” He hesitated. “And if anything happens, feel free to do something miraculous, all right?”
Again, William didn’t laugh.
Marny started ahead, but William stopped him. The boy stood still with his eyes shut.
“William, what are you doing?”
“This is probably a good time to pray, Marnin.”
Marny smiled. “Yeah. Probably.” He was glad the boy was doing what he did best. For some reason it made him feel safer.
William bowed his head but said nothing, at least nothing anyone this side of heaven could hear, then opened his eyes and nodded at Marny. “Are you ready, Marnin?”
“Ready as I’m going to be.”
“Are you ready?”
“Yeah, buddy. I guess.”
William paused and stared at Marny. His eyes made Marny uncomfortable, like they were peeling back the flesh and peering into his soul.
“Do you trust, Marnin?”
“Trust what?”
“God.”
Chapter 61
WHEN GARY HIT the floor in the hallway, the first thing he noticed was the change in temperature. With the fire quickly engulfing the room, the parlor had been an oven, but here in the hallway the mercury had to have dipped near zero, if not below. The second thing he noticed was the frost that covered every-thing—floor, walls, ceiling, banister, doors, and knobs. It was as though when he’d busted through the door he’d passed through some space continuum and found himself stranded in the Arctic Circle.
He got on all fours, his hands and knees immediately stinging from the cold, then pushed up to his feet and folded his arms across his chest. The parlor door had shut again and was frosted over. The knob was caked with a thick layer of ice, like it hadn’t been turned in months. Rubbing his arms and blowing out a puff of white air, Gary headed down the hallway to the bathroom. The water no longer ran and the light was off. He was curious to see what was in there.
It was an ordinary bathroom—sink, toilet, tub. Everything in there too was blanketed with a heavy frost, but the sink was filled to the lip of the basin with a solid chunk of ice.
Leaving the bathroom, Gary walked toward the staircase, ice crunching beneath his shoes. He navigated the steps carefully so as not to slip and tumble down them head over heels. At his size that would not end well. The foyer and entire first floor were no different from the second story. The house was a winter wonderland. The furniture was encrusted with frost; lamps were encased in crystal. Ice hung from the lampshades like glass fingers. Gary leaned against the banister at the bottom of the steps and tried to collect his thoughts. The encounter with Landon and his father in the parlor had left him shaken and nervous
. The front door was closed and in fact was now covered with an inch layer of ice top to bottom. William and the punk were still in the house. He was certain they hadn’t gone upstairs, which meant they had to be on the first floor or in the cellar.
Gary scolded himself again for leaving William. He’d had a miserable lapse in judgment and failed. But it wouldn’t happen again. He’d never again let William out of his sight. Never.
An image of Landon in flames burst into Gary’s mind, and he nearly screamed. He didn’t try to drive it from his memory, though. No, he wanted it there. It served as a reminder of what could happen—what would eventually happen—if he neglected to protect William. Whatever in this house was causing these strange disturbances and visions, Gary was thankful for it. He needed it.
Marny rubbed his forehead. William’s question banged around in there. Do you trust God? “Yeah, sure. Look, we had this conversation already.”
Those eyes bore holes into Marny again. “But you didn’t get it. You need to trust Him, Marnin. You need to let go of yourself. You’re holding on too tight.” He paused, swallowed, but his eyes never left Marny’s. “He knows you better than you know yourself.”
“Okay. Can we go now?”
Marny reached for William’s good hand, but the boy pulled it away, hesitated, then gave him his crippled hand. “Trust, Marnin.”
Marny took the hand.
They started off down the passageway. Marny expected the door to slam shut behind them, leaving them in utter blackness, but it never did. They walked by the light of the cellar as far as they could, but eventually the darkness overcame the light and left them blind. Marny stretched his left arm out in front, and they both slowed their pace. Neither said a word. It seemed the darkness demanded silence, and any sound other than that of the ground under their shoes would disturb whatever lurked in that underground lair.
Finally they came to a perpendicular wall. Marny felt the length of it and found that the tunnel turned right at a ninety-degree angle. He looked back at the small door to the cellar at the far end of the corridor. Funny how he could see it, but its light came nowhere near reaching them. It was like a distant star, there but out of reach, too far away for its light to have any impact.
Marny leaned down next to William’s ear and spoke quietly. “This is it, William. Either we follow this tunnel or head back for the light. We make this turn, and there’s no going back.”
William was quiet for a moment as if he knew what awaited them and was debating with himself over whether or not to take the plunge. “Do you think Esther would come after me, Marnin?”
“She’d give her life for you.”
“I know. Let’s go get her.”
His air of certainty encouraged Marny. He still didn’t understand William’s gift, what he could and couldn’t do. At times it seemed the wonder boy could see into the future, at times it felt like he could see into Marny’s soul, yet at other times he appeared to be no different than every other eleven-year-old out there. Just a kid.
“Okay, let’s do it,” Marny said. They turned the corner and headed down the tunnel. In a few feet they met another wall and another turn. But around this bend, a good thirty feet in the distance at a T in the tunnel, Marny saw the faint orange glow of a partially opened door. A room was beyond it, and in the room was light.
They inched closer, quiet, steady. William held Marny’s hand with both of his now. Each step felt like one closer to the end of the world … like the ground in the tunnel would collapse at their feet and they would fall and keep falling until they reached the center of the earth.
When they were within twenty feet of the door, a scream emanated from the room.
Esther.
Chapter 62
ESTHER SWALLOWED HARD. “You don’t have to do this.”
“What do you know about what I have to do and don’t have to do?”
“I know you don’t have to do this.”
Harold smirked. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know you’re my father and at one time you were my daddy. I know I was your Squirt and we used to do everything together. Do you remember that?”
The look on his face, in his eyes, said he didn’t. Either he chose not to remember or it had been wiped from his memory by whatever now indwelt him. This man standing before her was a stranger. Something resided in him, something dark and eternal.
If she could break through that wall and reach her father, she might have a chance. He was in there somewhere; she was sure of it. She’d seen it briefly on the mountaintop, right before he’d changed and killed William and Marny. She tried again. “Do you remember when we took hikes in the forest and chased squirrels around the trees? You almost caught that fat one. Do you remember that?”
Still his eyes showed nothing. He was gone, merely a shell of the man she once knew.
“Do you remember how I loved you?” It was her last effort to connect with him.
Harold’s eyes shifted slightly, almost imperceptibly. Something had happened there, a breakthrough of some kind. Small, maybe, but it was something.
He opened his mouth to speak but was cut short by the door opening. Another man entered, carrying a rifle.
“They’re coming.”
They? Who? The police? How?
Harold glared at Esther as if she were responsible for whoever it was making their way through the tunnel. “You need to come with us. Now.”
She hesitated, stayed put in the chair.
“Esther. Now. Let’s go.”
Still she didn’t move. If someone was coming, her best chance was to stay here.
Harold cursed and closed the distance between them in two large steps. He grabbed a handful of Esther’s hair and yanked her to her feet. She screamed.
Pushing away from the banister, Gary ventured into the living room but found it empty. No William. The dining room and closets proved no different. Only the kitchen was left. The linoleum was slick with frost, forcing him to take small, sliding steps. Other than the ice covering everything, the room appeared undisturbed. The back door was also covered in ice and hadn’t been opened.
He then noticed the door on the far side of the kitchen. The cellar door. They had to have gone to the cellar, only it too was frozen shut. Thick ice sheathed the sliding bolt lock. The doorknob dripped icicles. Gary crossed the room and took hold of the knob. The icicles broke and clinked to the floor. He turned the knob—ice cracked and broke free—and rattled the door, but the ice covering the lock held. He banged it with his fist, but it was too thick to break. Using the butt of his pistol, Gary jabbed at the ice, but the steel did little more than scratch the surface.
Panic lashed at him. He had to get the door open, had to get to William. Who knew what lies the punk was filling William’s head with? Protecting the anointed one was more than just a physical assignment; it was mental and spiritual as well. Gary had to keep William pure, untarnished by the filth of the world, filth the punk was no doubt piling on the boy’s tender psyche.
He pounded more violently on the lock, putting his muscle behind it, and little by little it began to break away until the lock was exposed enough to slide and disengage. Once unlocked, the door opened with a creak. The air flowing up from the cellar was warm and dry and soothed Gary’s numb, wet hands.
He stood at the top of the stairs for a few seconds, waiting, listening, but heard nothing. Gary descended the steps and again stopped at the bottom to listen. Still nothing. If William wasn’t down here, then Gary had no idea where the boy was. He couldn’t live with himself knowing he’d lost the anointed. But he would live if for no other reason than to devote his life to finding and retrieving William. This was his mission, and ending his life would be a sorry cop-out.
Gary turned and noticed the wall of boxes, some stacked neatly, some displaced and tossed to the side. He took a few steps closer and saw the open door. It led to a subterranean tunnel.
A tunnel that would lead him to Willia
m.
Chapter 63
ASHADOW MOVED IN the room.
Marny stopped, and William stepped closer to him. The tunnel was quiet, too quiet, and it put Marny’s senses on high alert. The door seemed to grow and expand. Marny wasn’t sure if it really was moving or if it was merely a trick of his eyes in the dim lighting. After what had happened already, he wouldn’t be surprised to find it was either.
He took one step closer to the door and was stopped by a man’s voice.
“You lost?”
Marny spun around and found a small group of men blocking the tunnel to their right. Darkness obscured their faces. In the tunnel they appeared to be larger than life.
One of the men stepped forward. He had something in his hand, but it too was hidden in the shadows. “You lost?” he said again.
This was no welcoming party bringing gifts to share. Marny and William were intruders and ones who should have been long dead.
Another man lifted something to shoulder height.
Marny stepped back and put his arm around William.
A light flicked on. The man held a lantern; its light was dull and moody but enough to illuminate the tunnel. There were four men. Their faces were flat, even, as if they wore masks. These were not men with free will, they were puppets under the control of some evil master. The one in front carried a machete and held it waist level.
The men stepped forward in unison. By the light of the lantern their eye sockets appeared deep and hollow, the angles of the faces sharper and leaner.
Marny didn’t like the look of this. There was obviously a maze of tunnels down here, and these men knew them. Running was an option, but not a very good one.
The pack of sinister puppets took another step closer.
Taking a step back, Marny turned to check the tunnel behind them and found two more men closing in, blocking the way. The only way out now was the way they had come. It was fight-or-flight time. Could he and William outrun these tunnel rats? Maybe, maybe not. There was only one way to find out. But Esther was behind that door. He’d recognized her scream.
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