Echoes (Whisper Trilogy Book 2)

by Michael Bray

  “Jesus, you look like shit,” Alex said, shifting his position. She looked at them in turn, then at the dense woodland surrounding the clearing. Dream or no dream, she could feel the presence of those things from her dream watching her from the shadows.

  “Hey, are you alright? You don’t look so good…” Scott said. She looked at him and, for a moment, saw the Scott from her dream, the one covered with blood and looking as happy as a pig in shit as he devoured his own entrails.

  “I’m fine,” she managed to stammer as she walked towards the fire, crouching beside it and warming her hands. She could feel Alex staring at her.

  “What?” she snapped, glaring at him across the flames.

  “Nothing. Just wondering why you look the most hung over when we drank all the booze.”

  “Rough night, didn’t sleep well.”

  “We didn’t sleep at all, did we Scotty?” Alex said, nudging Scott in the arm.

  Emma glanced to the discarded Ouija board by Alex’s tent.

  “How did things work out for you last night?”

  “Don’t ask,” he said, frowning at the wooden board in disgust. “Stupid fuckin’ thing didn’t work. What a letdown.”

  “I don’t know what you expected.”

  “I don’t know… I just assumed something would happen. I mean in a creepy ass place like this…” He shrugged and let out a deep, boozy belch.

  “Nice…”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Well, when you boys are ready, I wanna get out of here. I need a hot shower and a change of clothes,” Emma said, hugging herself against the chill.

  “Yeah, I’ve had my fill of this place too,” Alex said, giving the abandoned Ouija board another sour glare. “Let’s wake Carrie up and get the hell out of here.”

  She nodded, turning her attention to Cody. He still didn’t seem to be himself.

  “Are you alright, Cody?” she asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You sure? You seem a little bit quieter than normal.”

  “I’m fine. Just tired I think.”

  “Tell me about it. Let’s get our stuff together and get the hell out of here.”

  She stood and stretched while Scott and Alex began to tidy up their discarded drinks bottles and snack wrappers.

  Emma began to walk towards her tent, when she heard Cody speak, his words bringing back the previous night’s dream with harsh clarity.

  “Make sure you take everything with you. We can’t let anyone know we were out here.” He looked at her directly, his eyes fierce, a half smile on his lips. “No loose ends, okay?”

  She could only muster a nod as she retreated to her tent. She didn’t look back, but didn’t have to – she felt Cody’s eyes on her the entire way back.

  CHAPTER 8

  The whirlwind called Isaac Samson was finally sleeping after another day of hyperactivity. Melody covered him with a blanket and turned out his bedroom light. Almost a week had passed since Goodson had first contacted her about returning to Hope House. She had fully intended to tell Steve about it straight away, however the longer she left it, the harder it was to bring the subject up without raising questions as to why she’d waited so long to tell him.

  Standing by the door to Isaac’s room she looked into the sitting room. Steve was in his chair by the window staring out over the city. He would always sit there, sometimes for hours on end, just watching the world go by. Even from a distance she could see the network of scars and grafts from countless surgeries to try and put him back together after the fire. He had withdrawn even further into himself lately, to the point where, for the first time, she’d started to question if they should just separate and try to rebuild their lives apart from each other.

  She took a half-step towards the sitting room, but veered off into the kitchen instead. She grabbed some Tylenol out of the drawer, swallowed them with a grimace, and sat down hard at the kitchen table. The ever growing stack of unpaid bills piled on the worktop seemed to mock her where she sat. The white envelopes over time became brown, then brown stamped red, indicating those seeking money weren’t screwing around anymore.

  “You okay in here?” Steve said, shuffling into the kitchen.

  “I’m fine, just had to take some headache pills.”

  “You sure? You’ve been quiet for a few days now.”

  She looked at him, past the scars, the burns and the few wispy patches of graying hair remaining on his skull. His eyes still shone with that same intensity and life which made the sight of his ravaged body all the more upsetting.

  “I’m fine, really,” she said, her eyes involuntarily flicking towards the bills.

  Steve shambled into the kitchen and with some effort sat opposite her, gritting his teeth as he attempted to find a comfortable position.

  “We’ll be okay. We can fix this,” he said quietly.

  “I’d love to believe you, I just don’t see how we can manage. We don’t have anything left. Every time I think about it, I kick myself we didn’t get insurance.”

  “How could we have known? A lot of stuff got put on the back burner when we made the move.”

  “I still don’t understand why we didn’t insure the place. It should have been top of the list.”

  “Well, everything did happen fast, you know?”

  “What do you mean?” she snapped.

  “I mean it all seemed to happen at once. We viewed the place, agreed to buy it and moved in before our feet could even really touch the ground.”

  “I get it. It’s my fault.”

  “Hey, we’ve been over this. Nobody was at fault for what happened,” he said.

  “Come on, everything was my fault. I was so damn pushy about moving there. No matter how often you try to convince me otherwise, we both know the situation we’re in today is a direct result of me being blinded by the charm of the place.”

  He reached across the table and took her hands in his as best he could.

  “We’ve been through this. Nobody could predict the hell we went through. Nobody. I don’t want you blaming yourself for this.”

  “How can I not?” she replied, her lip trembling as she pulled her hands away and wiped her eyes. “Every time I see you I’m reminded it was me who caused it.”

  “Hey,” he said, just about managing a smile “I did what I did and I’d do it again. I knew what would happen. I knew the consequences.”

  “Look what it’s done to you. You don’t even leave the house anymore. I’m worried about you.”

  “I’m fine,” he mumbled, staring at the tabletop. “I just don’t feel like I want to be seen in public right now. Not like this.”

  “You can’t stay inside forever. It’s not healthy.”

  “I’m not saying it’ll be forever. It’s not like I never go out, it’s just I prefer not to if I can help it. People stare. I don’t like it.”

  “I know,” she said, finally looking at him. “And I understand. I just want things to go back to normal for us. God only knows, we need it.”

  “It will take time. As far as the fire goes, no matter how I look on the outside, watching Isaac growing up reminds me every day I did the right thing. Even with the medical bills and everything else against us right now, we still have each other.”

  “There’s something I need to tell you.” She said, pushing on before she could change her mind. “A man came to see me last week when I was visiting Becca. He had a proposition for us that would give us enough money to get ourselves back on track.”

  “Goodson, right?” Steve said with a faint half-smile

  “Yeah,” she stammered. “How did you know?”

  “He came to see me on Friday whilst you were out shopping. He told me all about his visit to see you and what he was proposing.”

  “That’s why you’ve been quiet these last few days, isn’t it?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, and figured since you hadn’t told me about it yourself, you were st
ill struggling to figure out how you felt about the idea.”

  “I didn’t mean to keep it from you, and for as much as I have no intention of ever going back there, it’s just…”

  “The money’s tempting.”

  “Yes,” she said quietly, looking him in the eye. “I can’t help but wonder how things might change if we had the money to pay off our debts and give us a little breathing space.”

  He exhaled, and shifted position, grimacing in pain.

  “I’ve thought about this. In fact it’s all I’ve thought about for the last few days. The way I see it, even if we had more money than we could ever spend, it wouldn’t change things. Not really.”

  “What do you mean?” Melody asked.

  “I mean, even if we could pay our bills and be comfortable, it wouldn’t make what happened go away. We’d still think about it. We’d still relive it every time we heard the wind in the trees or heard a noise in the building we couldn’t immediately identify. You’d think about it every time you looked at me, and I’d still think about it every time I looked in the mirror. Another thing to consider is we were lucky to escape with our lives once. I don’t think we should be tempting fate again. I know we try not to think about it, but remember what happened there. Think about what we risked. Is a handful of cash from a sleaze like Goodson worth putting everything we have at risk?”

  “No, of course it isn’t. I think I just needed to hear it from someone else. I’m sorry for not coming to you with this sooner.”

  “I get it. Believe me, I saw the benefit of the cash too. Bottom line is no money in the world would make me go back there. There’s nothing there for us apart from bad memories. You, me and Isaac, we’ll get through this together. We don’t need anything from the Goodsons of the world.”

  As was always the case, Steve knew exactly what to say and how to say it to make her feel better.

  “What about the bills?” she said, giving them a sour glare.

  “Well, there’s something else I wanted to tell you. I couldn’t say anything until I had confirmation.”

  “Go on.”

  “I found some old demos I recorded from before the fire. I had a friend of mine touch them up for me and shop them around. I got word earlier today – a production company wants to buy the recordings for placement in a TV commercial campaign.”

  “That’s amazing!” she said, leaping up and hugging him. He winced in pain and she released her grip.

  “Sorry, I just got over excited. How much did you get?”

  “Around seven grand after deductions. We won’t be able to retire to a life of luxury, but it will get some of these bills paid and get us back on an even keel. The contracts should be here in a couple of days.”

  “Should we contact Goodson and tell him what he can do with his offer?”

  “I already have,” Steve said with a grin. “He didn’t sound too happy about it. Either way he won’t be bothering us again.”

  “So what happens now?”

  “Now, we concentrate on moving on. If anything, having some of this stuff dragged up again has put a lot into perspective. We need to stop living in fear. Hell, we need to stop living in the past. It’s time we moved on.”

  “Do you think we can really do it? After everything?”

  He looked her dead in the eye, and she saw beyond the pain to the Steve of old.

  “I think we can do it because of everything that happened. We survived against something almost beyond comprehension. I don’t see how anything can stop us now.”

  “I just want us to go back to having something like a normal life. Isaac is getting to an age now where he’s starting to notice things.”

  “I know, which is why it’s down to us to put things right. Let’s make a deal. As from tomorrow, it’s a fresh start. No looking back, no mention of the past. We move on as a unit. The three of us.”

  “Agreed. I think we need to do this. Living with all this stuff on our shoulders just isn’t healthy.”

  “I know. Let’s forget Goodson. As far as I’m concerned, both him, and the town of Oakwell, no longer exist.”

  II

  From Henry Marshall’s vantage point high up on the side of Attenborough Hill, Oakwell appeared as a sprawling landscape of scattered buildings intercut by the vast forest. From where he was, the streams of traffic looked like tiny glints of light as they reflected the sun. He recalled a time when Oakwell was a less busy, more sedate place. Not anymore. He sipped his coffee and rolled down the car window. It was his town, his home. And even with all the recent changes, he still considered it to be a hell of a place to live. He caught a flash of light in his wing mirror, and watched Goodson pull into the vacant space next to him. He clambered out of the car, and got into the passenger seat beside Henry.

  “Why did you want to meet all the way up here?” Goodson grunted as he got himself comfortable.

  “I like it up here. It’s peaceful, don’t you think?” Marshall replied as he set his cup into the dash holder.

  “It’s a hell of a view.”

  “There used to be a lot more green. Too many buildings popping up these days.”

  “Speed of progress I suppose. The town’s growing. A lot of people around here aren’t too pleased about it.”

  “That’s the thing with people. They soon get used to change. They complained when the lumber mill closed, again when Randell’s toys went under. People like drama, especially in a small town like this. Folk just aren’t happy unless they have some kind of controversy to discuss with their friends and neighbors. That said, I didn’t ask you to come here to admire the view. What’s the latest with the Samsons?”

  “No go. They weren’t interested, although we knew going in it was the likely outcome.”

  “You told them about the money?” Henry said, eyebrows raised.

  “Just like you asked. Problem is the husband just sold some of his music to an advertising firm. For us, the timing is awful. End result is they are going to be set for a while. Either way, I don’t think you need them anymore. Marketing is already at a fever pitch for this thing. We expect to be booked up six months in advance for at least the next three years. That’s a hell of a return on your investment, Henry.”

  Goodson grinned, then seeing Henry wasn’t smiling with him, cleared his throat and looked away over the town.

  “This Commercial. Has it been completed yet? Have the contracts been signed?” Henry asked.

  “Not yet. It’s only a matter of days until it is though.”

  “Find a way to stop it.”

  “I don’t think I can.”

  “Find a way dammit!” Marshall growled.

  “Look, please Henry, take some advice. Forget about these people. They won’t come back here. I can’t really say I blame them either after what happened to them.”

  “I don’t pay you to give your opinion. I pay you to get results.”

  “I don’t know what you expect me to do. They have an agreement in place.”

  “I don’t care what it takes, I don’t care how deep you have to dig or how dirty it has to get. I want you to find a way to make sure the deal isn’t completed.”

  “I’m not comfortable with this,” Goodson said, running a hand through his hair. “Why is this so important?”

  “It’s vital. They have to be there for the opening.”

  “Even if we manage to stop the deal, they won’t do it. Even if I could stop them getting the money from this company, he already has interest from a dozen others who are just waiting in the wings. He was quite in demand back in the day. He has a reputation as one of the best in his field. Now he can’t produce anymore, it’s only adding to the value of the stuff he hasn’t commissioned yet. I don’t see any way to derail this.”

  Henry sighed and glared out of the window, tapping his finger impatiently on the steering wheel. He took off his sunglasses and turned to face Goodson. “Give me a pen and something to write on.”

  Goodson fumbled in his j
acket, and handed a pen and his diary to Marshall. He scrawled an address into it, and handed them back.

  “What’s this?”

  “Meet me there tonight at six.”

  “What for?”

  “As they say in show business, all will be revealed. Just don’t be late.”

  “Henry, are you sure you want to push this so far?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The Samsons. Don’t you think they’ve been through enough?”

  “This isn’t some kind of personal vendetta. It’s just a chance for both parties to take part in a mutually beneficial arrangement. They stand to gain a hell of a lot from this.”

  “Either way they still said no. Surely we ought to respect their decision.”

  “In my business, the word ‘no’ is merely a stumbling block. All we have to do is to convince them that they need to go along with our idea. A lot of people don’t really know what they want, so refer to saying no as default. Our job is to convince them otherwise.”

  “Hey, you’re the boss. I’m just keeping you in the loop. I’m sure you know there are a few of your fellow council members who are looking for any opportunity to discredit you.”

  Marshall laughed and took another sip of his coffee. “If you’re referring to Edgar Rollins and his friends I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it. They don’t worry me. Besides, that’s why I pay you, isn’t it? To keep my nose clean.”

  “It is, I’m just advising you to show a little caution. Harassing the Samsons might not be the best idea.”

  Marshall half-turned in his seat towards Goodson and glared at him. “Do you think of me as an idiot, Winston?”

  “No, of course not…” Goodson stammered.

  “I’m not harassing anyone. I’m trying to make the most of this situation our town has been left in, a situation, I might add, triggered by the Samsons and their snooping around, poking their noses into things which didn’t concern them. Now I fully appreciate they went through a traumatic experience, which is why we’re offering them such a generous amount of money to come back here. It’s just for one night. All they have to do is just look into the camera, conduct a couple of interviews and allow us to name them as our guests in the marketing campaign. I think it’s the least they can do, especially considering this town has turned to shit as a direct consequence of them and their actions. As soon as they’ve attended the opening, I will happily smile, hand them their check and wish them well with their lives. I won’t rest until they accept my offer. Call it harassment if you will, I personally prefer to say it’s a determined effort. Now, are you on board with me, or do I need to get someone else involved who would gladly take over your lucrative salary with less questions?”