Eximere (The River Book 4)

by Michael Richan

  “Now straight back the way we came,” Roy said. They walked back out of the forest, emerging into the small clearing around the fence – this time on the other side.

  “We’ll just follow the fence back to the road,” Roy said, “and then follow it out to the main road into town.”

  Within a few minutes they had completed the trek and were continuing their walk away from the estate. When they reached the chain bisecting the road, they each stepped over it, Roy offering his hand to help Eliza and Myrna with their balance.

  When they reached the main road, Steven estimated how long they’d have to walk to get back to town. He guessed twenty minutes.

  “Doesn’t look like much traffic on this road,” Jonathan said as they started down the side of the roadway towards town.

  “We must look like a sight,” Russell said, “the six of us marching along the road like this.”

  “I only wish poor Marilyn was with us,” Myrna said. “Seeing those blood stains on the path – well, it makes one think. Must have been awful.”

  “We tried to get her to stay,” Russell said. “She refused.”

  “Please, Russell,” Myrna said, “let’s not speak ill of the dead.”

  They walked along the side of the road in silence for a while. No cars passed in either direction.

  “I think I need to eat some breakfast as soon as we reach the town,” Myrna said.

  “Hungry?” Eliza asked.

  “Yes, my stomach is rumbling,” Myrna replied. “I should have eaten something before we left the house, but I was too nervous.”

  “I don’t feel like eating,” Roy said. “I feel a little nauseous.”

  “It might be catching,” Russell said. “I don’t feel that great either.”

  “Let’s get to town and we’ll see what we can find,” Eliza said. “The town was pretty small. I don’t recall seeing a restaurant or even a grocery store.”

  “I expect they all travel to Aberdeen for groceries,” Roy said.

  They walked in silence again. Soon the town came into view.

  “We’re close now,” said Roy. “I see houses.”

  As they walked into town, they took note of the buildings and businesses there. The houses were small and drab, many looking abandoned. There was a half-block section of businesses on the main drag before they reached the motel. Most shop fronts were dark and abandoned, with “For Lease” signs in the windows, but there were a couple of spots that looked like they might open in a couple of hours. There was a knick knack shop, a hair and nails salon, and a café. In another building down the road they could see the sign for Percival Realty. There was no car out front.

  Jonathan checked his watch. “We’re in luck, this café should be open in a couple of minutes,” he said. As they watched through the windows they could see movement in the back of the restaurant.

  “Oh, good,” said Myrna.

  “You hungry?” Steven asked Eliza.

  “Not really,” she said. “I’m not much of a breakfast person anyway.”

  “Still feeling nauseous, Dad?” Steven asked Roy.

  “Yes,” Roy answered. “Not hungry.”

  They saw a thin woman of about fifty approach the door, turn over the “closed” sign that hung in the window to “open,” and unlock the door.

  “Welcome folks,” she said. “You all look a little chilly. Come in and warm up. You want a table, or do you want to sit at the bar? It’s easier for me if you sit at the bar.”

  “Well,” said Jonathan, “we’ll sit at the bar, I guess.”

  “Good choice,” the woman said, leading them inside. “Do me a favor if you would, and leave the two stools at the end open. Howard and Jerry will be here in a few minutes, and it’ll throw their whole day off if you sit in their spots.”

  The group situated themselves at the bar, which had an old feel to it. Steven guessed it had been around for fifty years at least. Everything looks clean, he thought. The woman rounded the bar and began setting coffee cups out for each of them.

  “Menu’s on the board,” she said as she began pouring coffee. “Oh, wait,” she said, putting the coffee pot down. She reached behind the bar and flipped a switch, and the menu board attached to the wall behind the bar lit up. It was a Coca-Cola menu board with press-on letters that lit up from behind. Steven began surveying the menu while the woman resumed pouring coffee. To the right of the menu a stuffed spotted owl hung from a noose. Below it hung an old faded sign that read, “This Business Supported by Timber Dollars.”

  “My name’s Bess,” she said. “I’m guessing you’re all from out of town. That’s because there’s only fifty people in town and I know ‘em all.”

  “You’re right,” Jonathan said. “We’re from out of town. We’ve just stayed the night at the Unser Estate.”

  “Did you now?” Bess said. “That place has been closed up for a while. You must know Kent Percival.”

  “We do,” said Roy. “Unfortunately.”

  “Well, what can I get you?” Bess asked. “You know what you want?”

  Myrna, Jonathan, and Steven ordered food. The rest just had coffee. They chatted quietly as Bess disappeared into the kitchen.

  A bell rang, and in walked two older gentlemen. They glanced up at the group and grimaced, then walked over to the bar and sat next to the group in the two stools left open.

  “Mornin’,” one of them said to Steven, who was at the end.

  “Good morning,” Steven answered back. He guessed the men were in their seventies. One of them walked behind the bar and got cups for himself and the other gentleman, then poured them both some coffee.

  “Bess doesn’t mind if we help ourselves,” he said to the group, then sat on the stool by the other gentleman.

  “Been doing it for twenty years,” the other man said. “I don’t think Bess has poured us a cup in all that time. We’ve always poured our own, haven’t we, Howard?”

  “Yes, we have,” Howard answered, adding some cream to his coffee and stirring it.

  Bess walked back from the kitchen. “Mornin’,” she said, and Howard and Jerry mumbled a reply. “These folks are from out of town,” Bess told them.

  “You don’t think we can’t see that?” Jerry said. “We’re not blind.”

  “You folks from Seattle?” Howard asked, sipping his coffee.

  “I’m from Seattle,” Steven said, “and so is my father. The rest are from all over.”

  “They spent the night up at the Unser house,” Bess said, walking back into the kitchen.

  “Did you now?” Howard said.

  “Evil place,” Jerry said, shaking his head. “Very evil. They should tear it down.”

  “I hear they tried that,” Steven said. “Didn’t work.”

  “Who told you that?” Jerry asked.

  “Kent Percival,” Steven said.

  The two old men laughed. “Percival? He couldn’t find his ass if you tied his hands behind his back,” Howard said. “He trying to sell you the place?”

  “Not exactly,” Steven said. He wasn’t sure how much he should tell.

  “Well,” Howard said, “whatever he told you, don’t believe it. His father sold me my house here thirty years ago, and everything he told me was a crock of shit, excuse my French.”

  Bess emerged from the kitchen with two bagels on two plates, and set them down in front of Howard and Jerry.

  “Percival sell you this restaurant, Bess?” Howard asked.

  “He did,” Bess said. “Told me we’d get two hundred people a day.”

  Howard and Jerry laughed. Eventually Bess joined them.

  “I’m guessing you don’t see many people, then?” Steven said.

  “Howard and Jerry here keep this business afloat,” Bess said. “If they didn’t come in every day, we’d have to close up!” She winked at Steven.

  “Mr. Pervical thinks the Unser house is the reason the town is so depressed,” Eliza said. “At least, that’s what he told us last night.�
�

  “Well, he might be right about that,” Jerry said. “The house ain’t brought this town any good.”

  “How long have you lived here?” Eliza asked.

  “Lived here my whole life,” Jerry said, spreading some cream cheese on his bagel.

  “Then you must know something about the house,” Eliza said.

  “Nope,” Jerry said. “I don’t know nothing about it. I saw the place once when I was a kid when my father made a delivery there. Creepy as all get out. That was enough for me, haven’t seen it since, and don’t care to.” He took a bite of the bagel.

  “Jerry here is a bit superstitious,” Howard said. “Those of us who are normal know it’s just a house.”

  “Do you know much about it?” Eliza asked Howard.

  “Nope, never cared to,” Howard said. “Have no interest in the place.”

  Bess returned with plates of food, setting them in front of Steven, Jonathan, and Myrna, then grabbed the coffee pot and began refilling cups.

  “If you want to know more about that place,” Howard said, “you should talk to Roger Danvers. His wife runs the shop down the street.”

  “If he’s sober enough to talk,” Jerry said.

  “That’s right,” Bess said, “Roger used to be a guide at the house, when it was open for tours. He knows a lot about it.”

  “If he’s sober enough to remember,” Jerry said.

  “Is that the knick knack shop we saw on the way here?” Eliza asked.

  “Brenda’s Batch House,” Bess said, “three doors down. But Roger’ll be in the back. Just go in the back door in a couple of hours. He’ll be back there trying to fix things to sell in the shop.”

  “If he’s awake by then,” Jerry said.

  The talk turned to the weather and the Seahawks. Steven kept up idle conversation with Howard and Jerry, acknowledging their strongly held opinions and injecting an “oh, really?” every now and again.

  Once he finished his food, Steven glanced down the bar. Everyone else looked done and ready to go. “Shall we make our way back to the motel?” he asked. All heads nodded in agreement. They placed money on the counter.

  As they stood up to leave, Steven said “nice to meet you,” to Howard and Jerry.

  “Likewise,” Howard said.

  “Thank you all,” Bess said, clearing the plates.

  “If you know what’s good for you,” Jerry said, “you’ll stay away from that house. No good’ll come of it.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” Howard said. “Like I said, he’s just superstitious. Go see Roger.”

  “Thanks for the advice,” Steven said, and they turned to leave the restaurant.

  ◊

  It was a short five minute walk to the motel. They passed the office of Percival Realty as they went, looking into the windows. It was dark; no one was inside.

  “Wonder if he’ll show up today,” Myrna said.

  “I’m going to hurry along to the motel,” Russell said. “I’m not feeling very well.”

  “Me either,” said Roy. “Let’s go.”

  As they entered the motel parking lot, Myrna began to look a little white. “I could use a rest after that meal,” she said.

  “Not us,” Steven said. “We’re packing up and heading out.”

  “Do you all have a way to leave?” Eliza asked.

  “Marilyn came with me; I had picked her up at the airport,” Jonathan said, a new toothpick between his lips. “I’ll collect her things.”

  “Let’s put as much distance as we can between ourselves and this place,” Roy said. “If any of you would like to meet up in Seattle, you’re welcome to stop by either my or Steven’s place.”

  Roy and Steven shared their addresses with the group and they all broke apart into their separate motel rooms.

  Steven and Roy packed up their room in ten minutes. When they hauled their suitcases out to the car, Eliza was already waiting for them.

  “That was fast,” Steven said.

  “Like I said, I keep it packed up and ready to go,” Eliza said.

  They loaded their suitcases into the car and got inside. Steven noticed Jonathan packing his car. He waved to him as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street.

  “Now I’m starting to feel queasy,” Eliza said from the back seat.

  “Do you need me to stop?” Steven asked, pulling the car over before she could answer.

  Eliza opened the car door and leaned out. Steven watched her from the rear view mirror.

  He turned to look at Roy in the passenger seat. Roy didn’t look any better. “Are you OK, Dad?” Steven asked.

  “I don’t feel well,” Roy said.

  “Is it your medications?” Steven asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Roy said. “I took them as soon as we got to the room.”

  Steven could hear Eliza wretching. He felt sorry for her. After a moment, she leaned back into the car and closed the door. Steven could see in the mirror that she looked pale white.

  “I’m sorry about that,” she said. “Very embarrassing.”

  Steven put the car in drive and stepped on the gas. “Let’s get out of here,” he said.

  He hadn’t gone a block before Roy waved him to pull over. Before Steven could even stop the car Roy had the door open and was vomiting on the side of the road.

  “What is going on?” Steven asked. “You’re both sick?”

  Eliza tried to answer him, but instead she opened the car door and stood outside. Within a moment she was vomiting again. Steven turned off the car, not wanting to irritate them with the car’s exhaust.

  After several minutes doubled over, both Roy and Eliza returned to the car.

  “I can go back, we could rest at the motel,” Steven offered.

  “No,” said Roy. “I’d rather get away from here first. Eliza?”

  “Yes,” she said, “we’ve got to get out of here. I say we leave.”

  “OK,” Steven said, starting up the car again. He saw Russell’s car pass him, then stop twenty feet ahead of him. Russell leaned out the driver’s side of the car, vomiting.

  “Something’s going on,” Steven said. “I can’t believe you all got sick at once.” He pulled the car onto the road, and slowly approached Russell. As they reached him, Roy rolled down his window so they could talk to him.

  “You alright?” Roy asked.

  “I feel awful,” Russell said.

  “Like food poisoning?” Eliza asked.

  “Worse,” Russell said. “Like something stabbing me in my gut.” He bent over again, dry heaving.

  “We feel the same,” Roy said. “But we’re going to try and get out of here.”

  “I might go back to the motel,” Russell said. “I’m not sure I’m able to drive.”

  “We’ll follow you back,” Steven said. “We’ll make sure you get there safely.”

  “Thank you,” Russell said, slowly getting back into his car. Steven pulled forward and watched as Russell turned around and headed back to the motel. He followed him back, Roy and Eliza stretched out in their seats, trying to achieve a comfortable position.

  As they pulled into the motel parking lot, Steven noticed that Myrna’s car was still parked by her room, and Jonathan was pulling out. He rolled down his window and explained what was happening. Jonathan wished them good luck, and pulled out of the parking lot.

  As they pulled up to the parking spots in front of the rooms, Eliza sighed.

  “Feeling any better?” Steven asked.

  “As a matter of fact, yes,” she answered.

  “You?” Steven asked Roy.

  “I do,” he said.

  Steven watched as Russell got out of his car and walked back into his motel room.

  “Wait here,” he said, turning off the car and getting out. He walked to Russell’s room and knocked. Russell opened the door and invited him in.

  “How are you feeling now?” Steven asked him.

  “Better,” Russell said. “I feel
good enough to try again.”

  “Roy and Eliza felt better, too,” Steven said, “as soon as we turned around and came back. Myrna is still in her room, I gather.”

  “I suppose so,” Russell said.

  “OK, wait here a minute, will you?” Steven asked.

  “Sure.”

  Steven left Russell and walked back to the car. He jumped in.

  “Still feeling better?” he asked Roy and Eliza.

  “I feel OK,” Roy said. “Not great, but not about to lose it.”

  “Let’s wait here a moment,” Steven said. “I want to see what happens.”

  “Is Russell OK?” Eliza asked.

  “He says he feels well enough to try again,” Steven said.

  “What are we waiting for?” Roy asked.

  Steven was watching the parking lot in his rear view mirror. “If I’m right, Jonathan should be pulling back in about now.”

  Roy and Eliza turned to look. Jonathan was indeed driving into the parking lot.

  Steven got out of the car and walked over to Jonathan.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “Got about ten blocks, felt like shit,” he said. “Thought it best to come back and rest.”

  “It’s happening to everyone,” Steven said. “Roy and Eliza. Russell. All of you.”

  “Not you?” Jonathan asked.

  “I feel fine,” Steven said. “Come with me. Let’s try an experiment.”

  Jonathan got out of his car and followed Steven to his. He got in the back seat with Eliza.

  “You’re all feeling bad?” Jonathan asked. Roy and Eliza nodded in agreement.

  “I want you to all bear with me for a moment,” Steven said. “And I want you to tell me how you’re feeling, every minute or so. Rate it on a scale of one to ten. Ten being ‘pull the car over, I have to throw up.’ OK?”

  “Sure,” Eliza said. “What do you have in mind?”

  “You’ll see,” Steven said, pulling the car out of the parking lot.

  “How do you all feel now?” he asked.

  “Five,” said Roy.

  “Yeah, five for me too,” Eliza said.

  “Same here,” Jonathan said.

  Steven drove in the opposite direction, back through town. Soon he was on the road to the estate.