“No, you’re right,” Steven said. “I agree with you. I shouldn’t have called them innocuous. But they all have certain similarities. As you’ve said, they’re self-obsessed, and because of it they’re a little stupid. They can be manipulated. You manipulated James Unser magnificently.”
“Thank you,” Roy said.
“But there’s this third group,” Steven said. “I would count Lukas in it. Not human, right? Not a ghost. Something else. And it seemed to me, something worse. Not stupid like a ghost – the opposite of it. He was smart, completely focused on something he wanted. And…evil. I have a hard time finding another word for it.”
“I guess evil is as good a word as any,” Roy said, “since what they seem to be after is the opposite of what I consider good and right.”
“Or maybe it’s just a natural order of things,” Steven said. “Does an antelope consider a lion to be evil?”
“Of course not,” Roy said. “You’re taking this too far. An antelope considers a lion to be dangerous.”
“But not because it was taught that,” Steven said. “It just knows. Instinct. That’s what this is. It felt more powerful than any other instinct I’ve ever had.”
“So what are you saying?” Roy said. “You think there’s something dangerous in her house?”
“Yes, I do,” Steven said. “It may well be haunted. So was my home, here, before you helped me get rid of Lukas. I wouldn’t be surprised to find ghosts there. But there’s something that’s worse than Mason Manor, or the Unser House, in her home. I felt it.”
“I wish you had more to go on,” Roy said. “Since I didn’t feel it, I can’t really relate.”
“I think we should help her,” Steven said. “Even if it means a pause in our book deliveries. I think she’s worse off than she knows. I think her daughter and grandson are in danger, too.”
Roy looked at Steven, slightly skeptical. “You seem very sure of yourself,” Roy said. “I have no problem stopping to help her. But the thing I wonder is, are you ready? You’re far more impressionable by this ‘evil’ than I am, apparently. Are you sure you want to jump in, wherever it might lead?”
“I think so,” Steven said, seeing the last drips from the coffee pot and removing it to pour himself and his father a mug. “I think we have to. I’m not sure what else I’m supposed to do when I learn that someone’s life is at risk.”
“It’s as bad as that?” Roy asked.
“Yes, I think it is,” Steven said, sipping his coffee. “And I can’t shake it. The more I think about it, the more convinced I become. If we don’t help them, one or all of them could die.”
“Alright then,” Roy said, “we’ll do it. Let’s call her back.”
Chapter Two
Steven hadn’t been very close with his father until recently, when his father helped him with a problem in his new house. Steven had been let go from his long-held job, and was taking a sabbatical from work life to enjoy his new home, but the house had been doing strange things, making knocking noises in the middle of the night, and he’d seen some things that made him think he was losing his mind. When Roy learned what was happening, he helped Steven realize he wasn’t crazy – his house really was haunted. Roy had “the gift” and helped Steven realize that he had it too – he’d just been too rational and unbelieving to ever notice it and use it. They resolved Steven’s haunting problem, and Roy began teaching Steven how to use the gift he inherited. Since that time, they helped a few friends resolve problems they had with hauntings, and Steven met other people who shared his ability.
Steven and Roy were both able to enter a place they called “The River,” an alternative perspective on the world, constantly in motion, swirling around and through everything. When they jumped into the River, they could see things that most people couldn’t. The ability to see things in the River was what most people considered “the gift.” Steven inherited it from Roy, and Roy inherited it from his father.
Roy spent many years learning from his father, David. David gave Roy a book he kept, recording his experiences and knowledge. David inherited it from his father and grandfather. It was a thick, hand-made book, with sections belonging to each of his progenitors. Each section was bound onto the previous one, so the book was a little unusual in shape and the subject matter within was without an index or guide – you just had to read it to pick things up.
Unfortunately, Steven couldn’t read much of it. Although it was written in English, none of it made any sense to him – until he experienced something related to what he was reading. The experience gave him context that made sections of the book understandable. Roy had much more experience dealing with the River, and was able to read and understand a great deal more of the book than Steven could. But he was beginning to pick it up. As they encountered other ghosts and unusual creatures and objects, more and more of the book came into focus for Steven. But he still understood only ten percent of it.
As they drove back to June Williamson’s house to meet with her once again, Steven considered how much of the book he understood – which was very little compared to Roy – and it surprised him that Roy didn’t seem to detect the same sense of evil that Steven detected at her house. Maybe it was something he was more tuned to, to use Roy’s words. Part of him was dreading setting foot in the house again, but when he was working with Roy, Steven found there was a sort of momentum that built between them that always pushed things forward, sometimes unwittingly carrying them along. He decided they should help June, and Roy agreed. Now the train was on rails, and Steven knew it’d be hard to stop it, even if he wanted to.
“Come in!” June said, looking down as she opened the door. “I can’t thank you both enough for agreeing to help me,” she said, ushering them inside and inviting them to sit once again in her living room. Steven noticed that she hadn’t looked up at them.
“June,” Steven said, “is something wrong?”
June didn’t respond, just kept looking down. She finally raised her head to face them, and Steven gasped. There was a large cut on her left cheek, and bruises around her right eye.
“Jesus Christ!” Roy said. “What happened to you?”
“I’m fine, really,” she said, a weak smile appearing briefly on her face, but the smile caused her cut to open, and she stopped smiling when she felt the pain.
“You don’t look fine,” Steven said. “What happened?”
“It was stupid, really,” she said. “I got in the way.”
“In the way of what?” Roy asked.
“One of the ghosts, I suppose,” she said. “Robbie had tripped on something in the kitchen, and I went over to him to see if he was all right. I don’t know how I fell. Robbie didn’t either. I think the same ghost that tripped him, tripped me. Anyway, I went down, right at the edge of the table. Hit my eye, you can see it’s pretty banged up. Then — this is so stupid — I reached up to the table to pull myself up, and there was a knife there that I knocked somehow. It came down and hit my cheek. I guess I’m lucky I didn’t lose my eye.”
“You were right,” Roy said, turning to Steven.
“Right?” June asked. “About what?”
“My son feels you’re in danger,” Roy said. “He noticed something the last time we were here. It’s why we’ve agreed to help you.”
“What did you notice?” June asked Steven. “Did you see something?”
“No,” Steven said, “felt. I felt something.”
“What was it?” she asked.
Steven didn’t want to alarm June. He felt sorry for her, seeing her banged up and cut. She was already clearly worried about her child and grandchild. He didn’t want to add to her stress.
“I think you’re right,” Steven said. “There’s something here, and we need to help you get rid of it. I don’t know what it is exactly. But we’ll do what we can.”
“What can I do to help?” June said. “What do you need?”
“We want to start by finding out more about the gho
sts that are here,” Steven said. “The first thing we’d like to try is a trance. My father will go into a meditative state, and he’ll be able to see what’s in the house. Then we’ll go from there.”
“Do you think it will take more than an hour?” June said. “My daughter and grandson are due back in about that time.”
“I would expect we’d be done with the first trance by then,” Roy said. “Since I will be blindfolded, Steven will watch over me to make sure I don’t get up and walk into something.”
“Do you want me to stay?” June asked.
“Yes, you can stay,” Steven said. “Just don’t make any noise, don’t say anything, unless for some reason Roy talks to you during the trance. He usually doesn’t. We won’t know much until he comes out of the trance and tells us what he saw.”
“Alright,” June said. “I’ll be as silent as a mouse.” She sat back in her chair, watching Steven wrap the blindfold around Roy’s head. Using a blindfold was Roy’s preferred method of inducing a trance, which was a step deeper than the River. Roy was an expert at trancing, but Steven hadn’t yet mastered the art of it. Steven had learned how to enter and exit the River at will, but he’d only been in a trance a couple of times, and most of the time he’d joined trances already initiated by Roy. He hadn’t developed the skill to start a trance on his own.
After applying the blindfold, Steven sat back down on the couch, next to Roy. He entered the River himself, knowing it would take Roy at least five or ten minutes to go deeply enough to enter the trance. The moment he entered the River he knew it was a bad idea. He felt sick and nauseous, as though he wanted to vomit. There was a stench in the air that smelled like a mixture of rotten eggs and excrement. He felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck, his animal brain reacting on full alert. He dropped out of the flow and back to reality, feeling a small stab of pain at the back of his neck – a side effect of leaving the River that always seemed to occur.
Steven looked at Roy. He knew Roy would have entered the River first before proceeding to the trance. He must have sensed it, Steven thought. Steven wanted to try entering the River again, but his job, while Roy was trancing, was to watch over Roy and make sure he was physically OK. What he’d seen in the River in just the few seconds he’d been in it made him think going back into the River was a bad idea. Something was definitely wrong here, and he needed to stick with his assignment to watch over Roy rather than explore on his own.
Most of the trances he’d seen Roy perform lasted from ten to thirty minutes, depending on what Roy was trying to find out. Steven was settling back into the sofa to wait out this trance when Roy abruptly stood and removed the blindfold from his head. Steven, startled, jumped to his feet.
“Are you OK?” Steven asked Roy, concerned. Roy had been in the trance only a minute. He’d never seen him leave a trance so suddenly and so quickly.
“I’m afraid we won’t be able to help you,” Roy said to June. “Steven, we’re leaving.”
Roy began walking to the door, wadding the blindfold up and stuffing it into his coat pocket.
“What happened?” Steven asked.
“You won’t be able to help?” June asked, confused, rising to her feet.
“I’ll explain later,” Roy said, not turning around. “Steven, let’s go.”
Steven stood and looked at June. They shared a confused look, then Steven followed Roy. Roy opened the door and walked out, heading to Steven’s car.
Steven walked through the door and turned back to June. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened.”
June looked like she wanted to cry. “Did I do something wrong?” she asked Steven.
“No,” Steven said, “I don’t think it was anything you did.”
“Steven!” Roy called from the car. “Come at once! Now!”
As Steven watched he saw a small cut form in the flesh of June’s neck, a couple of inches below her chin. Her skin was wrinkled there, as it was in many older women, and he watched as the cut widened to be about an inch wide. Blood began to drip from the cut.
“You’re bleeding,” he said to her, point to his own neck. “On your neck, here.”
Her eyes grew wide and she held her fingers up to her neck. She felt the warmth of the liquid and pulled her fingers away so she could examine them. When she saw the dark red on her fingers, she gasped and raised her other hand to her throat.
“Go inside and bandage it,” Steven said.
“Steven!” Roy bellowed, insistent.
“I’ll call you when I know what’s going on,” he said, leaving her at the door and returning to the car.
“What was that about?” he asked Roy, outside the car.
“Get in the car and drive,” Roy said. “We need to get out of here.”
◊
After they were several blocks from the house, Steven repeated his question. “Tell me why I left her bleeding on the porch like that?”
“We were the cause,” Roy said. “Had we stayed any longer, it might have been worse.”
“We were the cause of what?” Steven asked. “What did you see in the trance?”
“The reason she was all banged up in the first place was retaliation for our visit to her yesterday,” Roy said. “In the trance, I didn’t get much past the River before I saw the blade at her throat.”
“Blade?” Steven asked, incredulous. “At her throat?”
“I had the distinct impression,” Roy said, “that if I went any further, whatever or whoever was controlling the blade would use it on her.”
“There was a cut on her throat,” Steven said, “as I was leaving her at the door. I saw it appear.”
“If you had come when I called,” Roy said, “she might not have been cut. I realized we needed to remove ourselves from the house for her safety.”
Fuck, Steven thought. I was only trying to answer her questions, give her some kind of comfort as we were running out the door, abandoning her. Instead I almost killed her.
“This is beyond me,” Roy said. “It’s demonic on a level I have no experience with.”
“Demonic?” Steven asked, driving through the streets of Beacon Hill. “I thought you didn’t believe in evil.”
“I told you I believe there are things that are the opposite of good,” he said. “And I meant it. There are. Whatever this is, it’s not a ghost, and it’s not human. So that leaves it in the third category you mentioned.”
“We can’t leave her like this,” Steven said. “We told her we’d help her.”
“We won’t be helping her by getting her throat slit,” Roy said. “I can tell you right now, we’re outgunned on this one.”
“I jumped in the River,” Steven said, “as you were starting your trance. I smelled something so bad I had to jump back out.”
“It’s demonic,” Roy said. “I’ll have to call Dixon, see if he knows someone who can help us.”
“What,” Steven said, “like a priest?”
“I doubt it,” Roy said. “I don’t think a priest would know what to do with this thing. Probably just get her killed.”
“What about June?” Steven said. “We can’t just leave her hanging. We need to know she’s alright.”
“You can call her,” Roy said. “Tell her we’re reconsidering if we can help or not. I don’t want her even thinking we’ll be back. It’s too dangerous for her. And don’t tell her that, either. No sense in worrying the poor woman even more.”
“She’ll be worried that we’re not going to help her,” Steven said. “Either way, she’ll worry.”
“Until we know what we’re dealing with,” Roy said, “I’d rather have her thinking we’re out of the picture. I’m serious about this, son. I know you want to calm her nerves, but if she starts thinking or saying we’re still going to help, it might get her killed.”
“OK,” Steven said. “I’ll be careful.”
“Jesus Christ, what have we gotten ourselves into?” Roy said, leaning back in his seat and taking a l
ong exhale. He turned to look out the window as the houses went by.
◊
Steven jumped off the boat and helped guide Dixon into the slip. He and Roy had gone to see Dixon at his boat in Ballard, and Dixon had suggested they visit someone who lived in Gig Harbor. Then Dixon had insisted on taking them across the sound to meet the person he’d recommended.
“She’s up that hill, house at the top,” Dixon said as Roy stepped off the boat. He handed Roy a card. “Here’s her name and address,” Dixon said. “Be nice to her, ‘cause you need her help. But don’t let her bully you.”
Bully you? Steven thought. With Roy, it was usually the other way around.
“You’ll wait here for us?” Roy asked Dixon.
“I’ll be here,” he said, knocking out his pipe and refilling it. “Just don’t take all day.”
“Alright,” Roy said, joining Steven and beginning the march up the hill from the marina. They passed several marine shops, which turned to tourist gift shops after another block.
“Always liked this place,” Steven said. “Very picturesque.”
“Full of snobs,” Roy said. “Worse than Mercer Island.” Steven knew better than to argue with him. Arguing over these types of things with Roy never ended well.
They walked in silence up the hill as the gift shops gave way to homes. As they reached the top, they began checking house numbers.
“1057,” Steven said. “It’s the next one.”
They both glanced up at the next house, an old three story gothic mansion from the late 19th century. It looked right out of a horror movie, except it was well cared for and was surrounded by flowers. They walked up to the front door and pressed the doorbell. Above the doorbell was a tiny sign that read: “No solicitors or missionaries.”
A tall, thin woman in her mid-thirties opened the door. She was dressed in a classic maid uniform, something Steven hadn’t seen outside of television. She invited them in.
“We’re here to see Mrs. Judith Duke,” Roy said. “I think she’s expecting us.”
The Suicide Forest (The River Book 5) Page 2