Whispers in the Night

by James Hunt

  Lindsy checked inside each of the rooms, but she found nothing concrete that would make her think it was one room over the other. “They all have a window, and they’re all about the same size.” She turned in a circle at the top of the stairwell platform.

  Carla remained by her side, still shaking. “M-m-maybe we can split up? You take one room, and I’ll take another.”

  “There still leaves one room open,” Lindsy said. “There has to be a way to figure out—”

  Two of the open doors on the third floor slammed shut, sending gusts of air that blew back both Lindsy and Carla’s hair, leaving only the middle room open.

  “I guess that’s our answer,” Lindsy said.

  She took a step forward, but then Carla pulled her back. “Do you think it’s safe?”

  “No,” Lindsy answered. “But we don’t have another choice.”

  Carla whimpered, but she nodded. She squeezed Lindsy’s hand even tighter than before, and the pair of women walked toward the bedroom door together and stepped inside, and the door was slammed shut behind them.

  Carla immediately went for the door, tugging at the knob, but it was locked. They weren’t going to get out until the midwife decided it was time to leave.

  “Shit.” Carla spun around and pressed her back flat against the door. “What do we do now?”

  Lindsy walked to the center of the room, glancing around the space, which had been filled with a few end tables that needed to be refurbished and some of Daniel’s construction supplies that he had been using to repair the house.

  The wood and the door muffled the gunshots and fight downstairs, like distant thunder from a faraway storm. But the gunfire no longer concerned Lindsy. A stray bullet through the old wood floors was the least of her worries now.

  “She’ll come soon,” Lindsy said, and then she turned around to look at Carla. “She will try to test you. Tempt you with something. Whisper things in your ear, things you desperately want to be true, but you can’t let her in, all right?”

  Carla nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

  Lindsy hoped the young mother had the strength needed to fight back, but she wasn’t sure. Of the two, Carla was weaker and less experienced with these matters. And Lindsy didn’t think the midwife would be so bold as to attack her outright, not when she had the bracelet. Because the midwife understood that the bracelet represented the end of her reign of terror, and she was so close to extending that reign to another generation of individuals.

  Lindsy wasn’t sure how long they waited, but she suddenly noticed how quiet it was, and that’s when she realized the gunshots had stopped.

  “Do you hear that?” Lindsy asked.

  Carla paused, listening, and then frowned. “Hear what?”

  Lindsy pressed her finger to her lips, keeping still. “No more gunshots.”

  Carla reached for the door again, thinking that it was over, but it was still locked. She pounded her fist against the old wood in frustration. “This can’t be happening. This can’t be real!” She spun around again and screamed up into the ceiling. “What do you want from me?”

  And on cue, Lindsy watched as the old, dusty, and decrepit room slowly transformed into something newer, brighter, and kinder.

  “Oh my god,” Carla said in disbelief. “How is this… happening?”

  Lindsy looked to the window and saw that even the night had transformed into the day, and she walked to the window, feeling the warmth of the sun on her face and body through the single-paned glass. By the time she turned around again, the room had finished its transformation.

  It had become the nursery Lindsy had seen in the photograph.

  Because the picture had been in black and white, Lindsy hadn’t been able to tell that the walls and the rest of the nursery had been painted a soft pink.

  The air was sweet, like candy, and she noticed the fresh flowers that filled the room. The crib and rocking chair was brand new, the wood polished and shiny. The changing table had everything a new mother would need.

  Books and toys were stacked neatly in bins in the corner, and the name Addy was written in block lettering on the back wall where pictures of nature had been hung, providing even more serenity to the space.

  A child’s cry suddenly pulled Lindsy and Carla’s attention to the crib. They both approached, but when Carla saw the child inside, she lunged forward before Lindsy could stop her.

  “Angela!” Carla scooped her baby from the crib, the child crying softly in her mother’s arms. “Oh, my baby, my sweet child.” She showered the baby with kisses, holding her in a protective embrace as she cried. “My girl.”

  Lindsy sensed the shift in temperature in the room, which had grown colder. “Carla, you need to put the child back.”

  Carla retreated toward the door, keeping the child close in her arms. “No. I’m not losing her again.” She looked at Lindsy with accusing eyes.

  “You don’t even know if that’s her,” Lindsy said.

  “Yes, I do,” Carla replied. “A mother knows. A mother always knows.” She looked down at her baby and smiled. “Isn’t that right…” Carla moved the swaddle around in her arms, but there was only the blanket. The child was gone. “Where did she go? Angela? Angela!” Carla dropped the pink swaddle and clenched her fists at her side. “Give her back to me, you bitch!”

  And then as Lindsy watched the last of Carla’s sanity unravel, she heard the whisper on the wind, coming through the open window.

  Lindsy couldn’t understand what was being said, but she was able to read the expression on Carla’s face, and that filled in all the blanks.

  “Carla, fight it,” Lindsy said. “Don’t let her use you.”

  The struggle on Carla’s face was evident. “You don’t understand.”

  “Yes, I do,” Lindsy said. “She’s just using you to get what she wants.”

  “She wants to make a deal,” Carla said, her voice calmer, which only made the situation even more unsettling. “Mother to mother.”

  Lindsy didn’t want to hurt Carla, but she knew the woman wasn’t thinking clearly at all. “This isn’t the kind of mother you want to be.”

  “And how would you know what a mother is supposed to be?” Carla asked, the disdain evident in her voice.

  Lindsy knew it wasn’t Carla that was speaking anymore. It was only the midwife trying to inflict as much pain as possible. But the words still cut her.

  “How many did you lose again? Three?” Carla asked. “Three chances, and you were too weak to bring life into this world. You know why? Because death circles you. It’s all around you. You’ve been consumed by it ever since you were a child, and it’s that immersion that causes you to circle people like me. It’s like a fly to shit. You just can’t help yourself.”

  Lindsy kept a tight hold on the bracelet as Carla stepped closer. She knew the midwife was going to try and make a move for the token. It was the only reason why the midwife had shown them which place was the nursery. It was where Evelyn Carter would be able to draw on all of her power.

  “Fight it, Carla!” Lindsy said, bracing for the altercation. “Think of Angela! Think of the mother she wants you to be!”

  It was for only a moment, but Lindsy watched as her words reached the Carla she knew, past the controls of the midwife. But it was fleeting, and Carla snarled in response.

  “I want my child back,” Carla said, sneering. “And if I have to go through you to do that, then that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Because that’s what you told me, remember? Do whatever it takes even if you’re scared, even if it hurts.”

  Lindsy knew the midwife was twisting her advice against her, but it was an effective tactic. “I’m not letting you take this bracelet away from me.”

  Carla stopped, her expression darkening as thunder rolled in the distance and clouds blocked out the artificial sunshine.

  22

  When Mike realized there was no cut through to the center of the house from where he was positioned, he went out the sid
e door where the mayor had entered and then circled around the outside of the house to the rear entrance where Torrence had snuck inside.

  The shooting continued, and Mike could hear it even from outside the house. Then the sounds of women screaming pulled Mike’s attention toward the top floor where Lindsy and Carla had gone.

  Mike fought the urge to go up and help her, but he knew he needed to trust his partner. They both had jobs to do, and second-guessing one another would only put everything in jeopardy.

  “Whatever it takes,” Mike said as he rounded the back corner of the house and sprinted up toward the house’s back entrance.

  Mike paused at the back door, the noises growing even louder on the backside. The door was still unlocked, which confirmed how the sheriff had made his way inside. Mike kept entered with caution, knowing that one bullet could end his life. There weren’t any second chances in this game. No do-overs granted.

  Mike moved through the house with a level of stealth he didn’t even realize he possessed. He kept both hands on the shotgun, remember what limited training he had received that one time he and Lindsy had gone shooting two years ago. He made sure to keep a soft grip, but his arms remained rigid. He made sure to keep his finger near the trigger, but not on it. That was the most significant rule he remembered. You don’t put your finger on the trigger unless you’re ready to shoot. And Mike was hoping he could find an alternative before he was forced to pull the trigger.

  By the time Mike neared the action the sheriff had progressed to the front of the staircase, and it looked like he had Daniel and the deputy pinned down in the living room.

  Shell casings littered the floor, and Mike did his best to step around him so he wouldn’t alert the sheriff to his presence. But it was like trying to work his way through a land mine.

  “It’s over, boys!” Torrence barked, panting heavily between breaths. “Give it up!”

  Mike continued to walk carefully, but his attention started to focus more on the sheriff instead of the floor. He moved closer, but he still kept his finger off the trigger. He had a clean shot right now, but shooting the man in the back, even a man who had arrested his wife, didn’t seem right.

  And he knew Sheriff Torrence was being manipulated by the midwife, unlike the mayor. The man wasn’t in control of his actions. It could have happened to anyone. But Mike knew he might not get a second chance.

  Mike flipped the shotgun around, raising the butt of the weapon to strike the sheriff in the back of the head to disarm him.

  At least that was the plan.

  Mike kicked a cluster of shells, sending them rolling toward the sheriff, who snapped his head around, eyeing Mike with surprise.

  And while the sheriff pivoted his aim to deal with the threat sneaking up on him, Mike charged, sprinting forward and knocked the gun out of the way before Torrence could pull the trigger, and tackled the sheriff to the floor.

  Torrence was a big man, but he was already back on his heels, and with Mike coming at him like a freight train, it was enough to put the sheriff on his back. But it wasn’t enough to keep the big man down for very long.

  Torrence kicked Mike off of him, flinging him backward and onto the floor, skidding into the front door that caused him to stop abruptly. But the lull in gunfire and Mike’s sudden entrance allowed Daniel and the deputy to charge into the foyer to help restrain Torrence, who continued to put up a fight.

  While everyone else had forgone their weapons to keep the sheriff relatively unharmed, Torrence continued to reach for his own pistol that had fallen to the floor.

  “Keep him still!” Deputy Williams shouted, trying to get the handcuffs onto the sheriff’s wrists.

  “I’m trying!” Daniel shouted.

  Torrence roared, running backward and slamming Daniel into the wall, and Daniel lost his grip. Torrence shrugged him off, punched Williams in the face, and then dove for his pistol. But Mike leaped back into the fray, grabbing hold of the weapon as well, fighting Torrence for control.

  But unlike his fight with the mayor, Mike didn’t have the advantage of being the stronger fighter in this scenario.

  Torrence swung Mike around like a rag doll, flinging him against the stairs, where the edge of the steps cut into his side, knocking the wind out of him and sending a sharp pain through his entire abdomen.

  Torrence aimed his pistol at Mike, smiling like a mad man, but Daniel charged from behind, and the sheriff’s gunshot landed harmlessly in the wall next to the staircase instead of Mike’s skull.

  Daniel punched Torrence, and after the third strike to the face, most of the fight ran out of the sheriff, and Deputy Williams was finally able to restrain the sheriff with his hands behind his back.

  Once Torrence was secure, everyone took a moment to catch their breath, though Mike found it hard to breathe.

  “You all right?” Daniel asked.

  Mike nodded, but he was becoming dizzy. “I’m fine—” He coughed, his lungs choking, and he sprayed blood over himself and the first few steps of the staircase.

  Everyone stared at the blood in shock for a moment before Williams rushed over to Mike and gently sat him upright and leaned him against the wall.

  “Easy,” Williams said. “Just take it easy.”

  The deputy examined Mike’s side, but he already knew what was wrong with it. “I punctured a lung.” He coughed again, tasting the metallic blood on his tongue. “And the other lung is starting to fill up with blood.” He could feel it now, the blood welling up in him. It was slow but steady.

  Williams quickly stood, backtracking toward the front door. “Keep an eye on him. I’m going to call for an ambulance!”

  Williams rushed outside, and Daniel remained where he stood, watching Mike from a distance. There wasn’t anything he could do.

  “You’ll die here,” Torrence said, writhing on the ground, the venom in his words so strong that even he grimaced when he spoke. “You’re all going to die. She’s going to make sure of it.” He laughed, and what started as a slow, methodical cackle quickly rose to a level of hysterics that sounded otherworldly.

  Mike looked up the staircase, blood pooling in his mouth as he struggled to remain conscious, hoping that Lindsy was having better luck than him.

  The midwife, using Carla’s body as a vessel, struck first, and she struck fast, charging at Lindsy with all of her strength. The speed and force caught Lindsy by surprise.

  Both women flattened to the floor, but Lindsy kept hold of the bracelet, keeping it balled in her fist. But like a bloodhound that had caught a scent they just couldn’t shake, Carla clawed at the wrist that held the bracelet, raking her sharp fingernails down Lindsy’s skin, drawing blood.

  Lindsy cried out in pain and kicked Carla in the stomach, freeing herself from the woman’s claws. She backed up, keeping the bracelet close to her chest as Carla stood and recovered from the blow to the stomach.

  “I’m getting that bracelet from you one way or another,” Carla said.

  “You’re not fighting it, Carla,” Lindsy said. “You’re letting her win!”

  “I get the bracelet from you, and I get my daughter back,” Carla said. “That’s how I win!”

  Carla lunged again, this time clawing at Lindsy’s face, but Lindsy was ready. She ducked out of the way, spinning around to evade Carla, and then sprinted for the door, which was still locked. Back to the door, Lindsy spun around to block Carla’s attack.

  Carla used her weight to pin Lindsy up against the door, the young mother rabid with rage as she wrapped her hands around Lindsy’s throat and squeezed.

  With Lindsy’s strength fading, she made one last-ditch effort to try and get the grieving mother to come to her senses and break free of the midwife’s hold on her.

  “Is this how you want your daughter to see you?” Lindsy asked. “Is this the kind of mother she deserves?”

  Carla flinched, and Lindsy could tell some of what she had said penetrated the midwife’s defenses.

  “I…. ca
n’t…” Carla had broken out into a heavy sweat, her facial muscles spasming as she struggled to fight the midwife for control of her mind.

  “You can, Carla!” Lindsy said, trying to encourage the young mother. “I believe in you! Angela believes in you too!”

  Slowly, Carla’s grip on Lindsy’s throat eased, and Lindsy managed to back herself off of the door as she half-pushed, half-guided Carla to the center of the room.

  “Keep fighting her, Carla!” Lindsy shouted.

  Carla groaned, and then the room itself rattled, the walls and floor trembling like there an earthquake. Lindsy glanced around in awe as the midwife’s vision started to fade. The nursery was slowly returning to the decrepit room they had first entered.

  Carla’s eyelids fluttered, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she finally let Lindsy go. She clutched the sides of her head, screaming as she twisted her body back and forth. She was a woman at war with herself, and just when Lindsy thought Carla would be split in two, the young mother stood frozen in place. She remained entirely still in the center of the room, standing with her head down, arms lazy at her sides.

  “Carla?” Lindsy asked.

  Carla kept her head down and laughed. “No Carla here.”

  Lindsy shuddered as she took a step back. “What did you do?’

  “Everyone always believes they’re stronger than they think. That is until they come up against real power.”

  Lindsy noticed that Carla’s voice had changed to a different pitch.

  Carla lifted her face, sporting a mischievous smile that stretched her face unnaturally wide. “You nearly had her push me out.”

  Lindsy knew she was speaking to the midwife now. “Let her go.”

  Carla laughed. “You’re afraid of me, aren’t you?”

  Lindsy swallowed, unable to mask her fear. “I’ve come across worse than you.”

  “No, you haven’t,” Carla said.

  Lindsy wracked her thoughts for a way out. She knew putting the bracelet on Carla’s wrist wouldn’t do the trick. She needed to place it on the midwife’s apparition.