But then this business with Ryan McKay happened and everyone knew something was up, but in a town like this, where secrets are the order of the day and where there are some things you just don’t talk about . . . people did just that, they kept quiet.
Ryan had last been seen near a wooded area off the highway, a place kids went to play and live out their fantasies. These woods served as Tarzan’s jungle, or the woods surrounding Camp Crystal Lake for the more daring role players. For some it was the perfect place to live out their recent John Rambo fantasies.
Mazie went out there one rainy afternoon. She had no trouble finding it. She felt the vibrations as soon as she got out of her car. The walk through the woods was tense and her stomach was in knots. She’d never felt anything this strong before. It simultaneously pulled her forward while trying to hold her back. To go toward it was a compulsion she didn’t think she could resist now that she was actually here, but something inside her, an inner voice she would come to trust with her life in time, tried to tell her to turn back and get as far away from this place as she could. And quickly, at that. But she couldn’t do that. Because Ryan McKay, a little boy she had never met, had never even heard of, was missing, and Mazie knew that if she could shed any sort of light on this subject at all, if her gifts could be used in the slightest way to help get him home safely, or at least provide some answers if returning home was no longer a possibility, she couldn’t, in good conscience, deny that responsibility.
The ground was slick with mud, and not easy to cover with twigs and rocks and hills to contend with. She grabbed a root growing jagged out of a hillside and hauled her bulk over a slick hill, then had to hold herself steady against a series of trees to get to the bottom without falling on the wet ground. Even though she’d never been here before, it wasn’t hard to find with her head acting as a divining rod as those vibrations rattled her brain. The closer she got, the less she wanted to do this thing.
Finally her gifts told her this was the spot, that something powerful had happened here. She looked all around, trying to find a scrap of shirt, a broken twig he may have snapped during a struggle, anything she may be able to pick up some information from.
Silvery mist swirled about the trees as a breeze whispered in. The rain brushed her face like an unwelcome suitor, making unwanted advances. The sun was a distant cold whiteness behind the wall of dark gray above.
She walked slowly forward, cautious, expectant. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, almost as loud as the warnings she felt to leave this alone, turn around, go back to the road, get in the car and get far away from here. But she couldn’t do that.
Her stomach felt like she hadn’t eaten all day, like it was about to consume itself and she realized she had to pee. Her shoes were soaked, as were her socks and she hated that feeling between her toes.
Finally she stopped in a spot she felt was the spot. Whatever the was, it was here. And she felt it coming to a boil in her veins, in her brain, deep in her gut.
She steeled herself against what might happen, what might have happened to Ryan McKay and, in effect, what might happen to her when the visions came, then she reached down her wet hand and laid the tips of the first two fingers on her right hand on the ground.
Mazie fell to her knees and cried out as lights and colors filled her head, a sensation of falling forever made her vision swirl and her balance was for nothing. She lay writhing in the wet leaves, her fingers stuck to the ground, trying to shake off these feelings of pain and confusion. She saw nothing of Ryan McKay and everything of an eternity spent in darkness. She felt lonely. She cried. She wanted to scream but something inside made all of her muscles suddenly seize and she froze on the ground, her back arched, stomach up, legs curled back with her right arm twisted backward over her shoulder and her fingers still pressed into the dirt. Her head cocked dangerously to the left. Her mouth hung open and she spilled drool down her cheek. A sound came from her throat in a voice she knew wasn’t hers. Her left arm was so tense the muscles shook and twitched.
Everything inside her was violence and hurt.
Then it passed through her like a wave, starting at her toes and rising up her body, making her pee her pants, churning her gut, issuing another scream from her throat, making her vision go dark for a moment, her head felt like her skull was cracking, and finally it went out through her raised fingertips and back into the ground and Mazie lost contact and quickly scurried back from the area, then fell weeping in the leaves and mud, crying out every ounce of shame and loneliness she had felt since her powers first emerged.
“No good,” she said. “It’s no good. I didn’t see him. I don’t know.”
She had feared coming away from this trip with nothing to offer the parents of Ryan McKay, and that’s exactly what had happened. But it was even worse because she knew now there was no way she could continue to live in Angel Hill with a presence like that in town. And while the idea of leaving the only place she’d ever known terrified her, the idea of ever coming into contact with something that strong again filled her with a hopelessness she knew would never be overcome. So the decision, really, wasn’t even something she had to consider. Mazie had to leave Angel Hill, as soon as possible.
As a final bonus, here is the synopsis and first chapter of my Angel Hill novel The Third Floor which, in the 8 months since I first published it, has gone on to sell over 22,000 copies and earn, to date, 114 5-star reviews.
THEIR NEW HOME IS OUT TO GET THEM
Welcome to Angel Hill, Missouri, a town that shot blood from the ground at its own groundbreaking. There are only two roads in or out of town, and everything within those borders is subject to the whims of reality. Those who grew up here are immune to the town's peculiarities. But Jack and Liz have just moved here, and for their young son, Joey, it's almost like coming home again.
As the Kitches start settling into their new home, a large abandoned house in need of a lot of TLC, Angel Hill welcomes them the only way it knows how. Footsteps in the middle of the night. Voices on the phone. Their big empty house wasn't so empty after all. There's a presence, and it's growing stronger. And angrier.
DOES MADNESS LIVE ON AFTER DEATH?
A hulking figure stalks the halls while childlike voices whisper in mourning. And there's something unexplainable happening to Joey. His hair is shorter now, and his eyes . . . they didn't used to be that color, did they? And that birthmark on his neck looks more like a scar every day. Jack doesn't want to believe his own eyes, but for Liz the threat is all too real, and it's closing in.
From the invisible shapes under the sheets, the eyes she feels on her constantly, and the banging coming from the third floor . . . is that something trying to get in? Or something wanting out? Welcome to Angel Hill.
Chapter One
The Kitches entered Angel Hill the same way everyone did: US 169. They came from the south, having arrived after an almost two day drive from Houston. They spent the night just over the Missouri border in a small town they couldn't remember the name of and drove the rest of the way to the northern part of the state in one stretch. Jack was ready for bed. Liz was ready for something besides sitting in the car. Joey was asleep in the back seat.
Once they entered town, Liz was ready to find the first motel and search for the house in the morning.
“Come on,” Jack said. “We’re in town now; we’ll just find the house. We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
"We don't even know the streets here," Liz said. "Let's just get some sleep and we’ll find the house in the morning."
"I've got directions," Jack countered, pulling directions from his breast pocket. He handed it to Liz, then turned on the dome light. "Read it to me."
Liz took the paper and tried to focus her eyes in the glare of the light.
"Turn right when you get to Vogul," she said.
"Then what?" he asked.
"Then turn left when you get to Seventh Street."
Jack followed her directions, turning when
he found the street she mentioned, then looking for the next one. And, like Jack had said, before they knew it, the Kitches were on Fourth Street, pulling up in front of their new house. Liz looked past her husband to the three-story block standing thirty feet back from the street. Even with a street lamp in front of their house, it was dark. Not just the house, but everything around it, as if the house sucked up any light that dared come near it.
"That's it?" Liz asked, sounding less than thrilled.
"That's it," Jack said. He didn't sound entirely convinced, himself.
"Is there going to be electricity?"
"Of course," he said. "I had it turned on two days ago. And the Realtor said they'd have it aired out for us. The only things we'll be missing tonight are beds."
They got out and Liz lifted Joey from the back seat while Jack got the sleeping bags from the rear compartment. He closed the door and went up to the porch. After some jiggling and fighting, they got the door opened and were inside. Jack locked the door behind them.
"So they aired it out," Liz asked, "or they were supposed to air it out."
"She said they did," Jack said, wincing at the smell of dust. He found a light switch and flipped it. Nothing happened. "Nice to know quality work is alive and well in Angel Hill," he said.
"Where are we going?"
"Downstairs," he said, leading the way.
The porch entered onto a landing between the first two floors and the way down looked, to Liz, like a physical invitation to Hell. "You didn't bring a flashlight, did you, Mr. Genius?" she teased.
"We weren't supposed to need one." He missed the last step and stumbled, spilling the sleeping bags and his keys all over the dark hall. There was a jangling and Jack said, "Shit!"
"What,” Liz asked, shifting Joey to her other shoulder.
"I think I just kicked the keys down the cold air vent."
"Nice."
“Hush up."
They found one of the bedrooms--at least, they thought it was a bedroom--in the dark by running a hand along the wall until coming to a doorway. That was where they spent the night. They spread the sleeping bags on the floor, slept on one, covered with the other. In the middle of the night Jack woke up when he heard a door close, then footsteps padding down the hall. He reached over and felt Liz next to him. Joey had to pee, he thought, then was asleep again before his son came back. He woke up again, what seemed like only seconds later, to Joey's screams.
Shit, Jack thought, he's realized he doesn't know where he is. He's lost in the hall in the dark.
He began to get up, then realized Joey was right next to him. Liz was already comforting the boy who was crying over a nightmare. Jack put his head back down and fell asleep again instantly.
By the time he woke up, Joey and Liz were gone. Jack raised his head and looked around, trying to force focus on the room. Liz had opened the windows, and Jack's first Angel Hill summer breeze blew by. He leaned up and realized they'd spent the night in the living room. He could see Liz in the kitchen just ten feet from him. She had her back to him, staring out the back door. From outside, he heard Joey laughing.
"What time is it?" he asked.
She didn't answer, so he asked it again, louder. Liz jumped and caught herself before she yelled. “Shit, you scared me.” She looked at her watch. "It's almost nine."
"Good, the movers should be here by noon. We can get something to eat and be back with plenty of time"
"Plenty of time for what?" she asked.
"Good point," he said.
Then Joey rushed in, slamming the tin storm door behind him. "Dad," he said. "Is this whole house ours?"
"It sure is," he said, sitting up and smoothing the wrinkled length of his pant legs. "Will this be enough room for all your toys, do you think?"
"It might be," Joey said. Then he turned to Liz. "Who lives up there?" He pointed toward the ceiling.
"Nobody lives up there," she answered. "The whole building is our house. And nobody else’s."
"Wow," Joey said, his eyes wide with childish joy.
"Yep," Jack said, pulling his shirt down over his stomach, "all ours, babe. And we can do anything we want to it. What color would you like your bedroom to be?"
"Pancakes," Joey said.
"Pancakes."
"Yep," he said, smiling wide. "Then if I wake up some day before you and Liz, I won't be hungry waiting for you to get up and fix my breakfast."
"I see," Jack said, smiling as he stuffed his feet into his shoes. "Tell you what, how about we have pancakes for breakfast now, and while we do that, we can pick a color for your bedroom."
"Okay."
Jack went to brush his teeth, and when he came back he said, “Shit, I forgot I dropped my keys last night.”
“I’ve got a set in my purse,” Liz said. “We can look for yours when we get back.”
“And we don’t know where the restaurants are.”
"Just drive. We'll find something, or someone who can tell us. Stop at a gas station, if you see one."
While Jack drove the unfamiliar streets of Angel Hill and Joey played in the back seat, Liz whispered to Jack, "It's been a year now, Jack, and he still calls me Liz."
"I'm sorry," he said back, quietly. "Give him time. He's six. For the first five years of his life, the boy didn't call anyone Mom. He met you as Liz. When he's ready, all right? Just relax. At the very least, you're more mother to him than his real mother ever was."
"That doesn't help. That's all the more reason, in fact."
"He will. I'm telling you. Just let him do it when he's ready. Here's a gas station. Let me fill up and we'll find out where the closest restaurant is."
Jack came back from paying for the gas, holding a map under his arm. "The guy inside said there's a diner on . . . " he unfolded the map and scanned it, starting in the top left corner and moving across, then down an inch, and back again until he found, "tenth and Marshall. Well, that's easy to find." He started the car and pulled away, heading for breakfast.
They were soon walking into the Grand Prize Diner and heading for a booth. Jack and Liz grabbed menus and Joey pulled the dessert card from the wire mount against the wall, staring with big eyes at the ice creams and pies.
"Pancakes, first," Jack said. "If you've got room left, we'll think about ice cream."
"Okay. I'm gonna eat twelve, or maybe a dozen pancakes," Joey said. "I'm starving to death."
"We'll see," Jack said.
A waitress came and wrote down their orders, smiling at Joey as she walked away.
"Did you have a hard time finding the bathroom last night, Joe?" Jack asked.
"What?" Joey replied.
"When you got up last night to pee," Jack said. "Did you get lost, not knowing where you were?"
"I didn't get up," Joey said. "Except when I had a bad dream."
"No, I heard you close the bathroom door and come back down the hall."
"Huh-uh," Joey said. He was still eyeing the desserts.
"Was it you?" Jack asked his wife.
"I didn't get up," she said. She stared out the window at the strange new city. "It's not a very . . . what's the word I want? . . . classy place, is it?"
"Angel Hill? I don't suppose it's any different than any other city. It's smaller than Houston, but it's big enough."
"But it's nine-thirty in the morning. It's the beginning of summer. Where's the sunshine, the birds, and the sounds of lawnmowers?"
The food came and Joey dove into his pancakes, stuffing half of one into his mouth before Jack had the chance to ask if he wanted syrup. Liz and Jack ate hungrily, but civilly, unlike Joey who acted as if he hadn't eaten his own dinner the night before, plus the half of Liz's cheeseburger she didn't finish.
"What’s the rush?" Jack asked.
"I'm hurrying up so I can have ice cream."
Back in the car, Jack asked Liz, "So you didn't get up last night?"
"No," she said. "And I'm pretty sure he didn't, either."
"Man,
I was sure I woke up for a second and heard him coming back down the hall."
"I don't think he would have found the bathroom that easily by himself, in the dark, in a house he's never been in before."
"I didn't think so, either. But I was sure I heard him. What was his nightmare about last night, did he tell you?"
"No," she said. "He just said he was scared, as if we couldn't guess that. Did you hear that scream he let out?"
"No, it only scared the shit out of me. I woke up thinking he must have cut an arm off or something."
"Me too--turn left here--I about had a heart attack myself."
Jack glanced into the mirror and saw Joey watching out the window, his head moving from side to side, and his mouth moving in silent song.
They pulled in front of the house and looked at it again, this time in the full light of day.
"Well, I guess it doesn't look so bad," Liz said. "It sure is big."
"Sure is," Jack said. "But you were the one who wanted a house you could work on. They said the top two floors needed a lot of work, so have at it."
"I meant I'd like to paint a couple walls, maybe get new carpet in the living room. I didn't mean I wanted to do an entire house."
"I'll help you, of course," he said.
"Sure you will."
They got inside and had just decided which of the two bedrooms would belong to whom when the banging started. Jack slid Joey off his back and went up to the front door to let the movers in. Their house in Houston hadn't been a third the size of this one, so everything they had fit on the first floor. Liz directed traffic, while Jack helped unload the truck and bring boxes and lamps, the microwave cart, and an end table up to the house.
Meanwhile, Joey explored.
The bottom floor consisted of two bedrooms, a living room, kitchen, a bathroom, and a hall that divided the floor, with the bedrooms on one side, the rest of the rooms on the other. At one end of the hall stood a wall, at the other end the stairs went up to the landing at the front door. A 180-degree turn led to the second floor. There were four more rooms up here and another bathroom. A third flight of stairs ran to another landing and another 180-degree turn that led to the third floor. This floor had one large central room that branched off to four smaller rooms and a final bathroom.
The Ghosts of Mertland (An Angel Hill novel) Page 17