by Rod Redux
“He’s coming to,” Jane said.
Francis groaned, his head rolling loosely on his neck. As Jane continued to stroke his cheeks, his eyelids fluttered open. The capillaries had burst in the whites of his eyes. He looked like a drunk after a weeklong bender.
“Jane…?” he snuffled, his voice raspy and weak. Angry red fingermarks encircled his throat.
“I’m right here, sweetheart,” Jane smiled down at him. “Are you all right?”
“Head… hurtsh…” he murmured, then he winced and touched his throat. “What… happened?”
“We were hoping you could tell us,” Allen said, smiling sympathetically.
Raj slid from the bed, withdrawing from Francis in silence, eyes on his twining hands. Jane stayed at the medium’s side, however -- playing mother hen, as usual. She brushed the man’s sweaty bangs from his brow, used the cuff of her sleeve to wipe some of the foamy spittle from his chin.
The little fellow’s face was splotchy with petechiae. All the tiny blood vessels in his cheeks and forehead had hemorrhaged. His face crumpled as he tried to recall exactly what had happened to him.
“There was… someone else in here,” he said slowly. “A spiritual entity. A man in a pig’s mask. One of the souls trapped here in the house. I guess he... took control of me. Tried to make me choke myself to death. I’ve never had such a powerful experience. It just overwhelmed me… smashed right through my psychic barriers.”
He looked warily at the men and women gathered around him, expecting to see skepticism on his friends’ faces, but no one was scoffing now. The Ghost Scouts eyed one another, faces grim.
“I don’t know about the rest of you,” Raj said, “but I’ve had just about enough fun for one night. I think it’s time we made like a banana and split.”
Missing Persons
1
A palpable sense of relief spread through the group once the decision had been made to leave. Their nerves were still jangling from the assault upon Francis, but the prospect of quitting Forester House went far in lifting their mood. As Jane tended to Francis, who was still woozy from his ordeal, Raj assigned duties to the men and women gathered in the room.
He was the first to notice that two of their number was missing.
“Hey, where’s Billy?” Raj asked with a scowl. “And why hasn’t Little Dan showed up yet? Has anyone seen him?”
Allen glanced over his shoulder, looking through the doorway into the room across the hall. “Bill wasn’t in bed when all the ruckus started,” Allen replied. “When Francis started yelling, I just jumped up and ran in here. I didn’t even think about it.”
“Has anyone seen him?” Raj asked. “What about Little Dan?”
The group eyed one another anxiously, but no one spoke up.
“Damn! Then we have two missing persons on top of everything else!” Raj pursed his lips, the wheels in his head burning rubber. He blinked rapidly at them, rapped off new marching orders: “All right, team, let’s be smart about this. We can’t afford to go running out of here half-cocked. Tish, Dan, I want the two of you to break down and load our equipment. Allen, you and I will look for our lost sheep. Jane, Robert, you two get Francis on his feet and take him outside. He’s in no shape to help anyone right now.”
Jane looked down at the medium, who was staring at the ceiling and shivering. “Francis? Honey? Do you think you can sit up?”
“Wrap him in some blankets and put him in his car for the time being,” Raj said. “And keep an eye on him. If it looks like his condition is getting any worse, just leave off and get him to a hospital. Don’t wait around for us.”
Jane nodded.
“Where do you think Little Dan and Billy went?” Tish asked.
“The last time I saw Little Dan, he was headed to the bathroom,” Big Dan replied.
“We’ll start on the first floor, then,” Allen said. “If we don’t find them there, we’ll work our way up.”
Jane, who was helping Francis to a seated position, suggested, “Why don’t you go to control and run the videos back? That might give you an idea where Dan and Billy are. Then you won’t have to run around looking for them.”
“That’s a good idea,” Raj replied. “I’m hoping we’ll meet up with them on the way downstairs, but if we don’t, we’ll check the videos. This is a big house. They could be anywhere.”
Raj nodded to Allen, who clapped his hands smartly. “You heard the man, gang. We know what we have to do. Let’s get dressed and get a move on!”
2
As the group dispersed, Robert Forester shifted anxiously from foot to foot, feeling that he’d been swept away by some rapid and irresistible current. Everything was spinning out of control. He didn’t know which way was up and which way was down. He could only brace himself for the rocks that lay hidden in the rapids, and pray that when he struck them, they’d only maim, not kill.
Jane glanced at him shyly, commiserating with his confusion. Mastering her own anxiety was demanding all of her self-control. She counseled herself: Don’t overanalyze, and don’t panic, Janey. Just keep a clear head and concentrate on the task at hand.
In all the years she’d been chasing ghosts, Jane Rivers had never actually feared for her life. She’d been startled, had gotten a good case of the willies more times than she could count, but she’d never experienced mortal fear—for herself or for the people she called her friends—but she was that scared now. She was afraid for her life, for her soul, and for the lives and souls of her teammates. As much as it galled to tuck tail and run, she knew they had no other choice. Forester House had bested them. They had underestimated the power of this place, and now they were paying the price.
Jane pulled a blanket over Francis’s shoulders. She peered down at him, then kissed him on the forehead as he hunched against her bosom, shivering.
“I need to get some clothes on, Francis, but I’ll be right back, and then Robert and I will get you out of here. Is that all right, hon?” she asked.
Francis glanced toward her. He nodded, his teeth clacking.
“Robert, will you sit with Francis while Tish and I change out of these nightclothes?”
Tish had been lingering outside the door, her arms crossed over her breasts. Big Dan had already taken down most of the IR floods and digital video recorders on the second floor and was kneeling in the corridor, packing the equipment into their cases.
Robert twitched a little, then stammered, “Y-yes, of course!”
“I’ll be right back, Francis,” Jane said. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
He nodded again, this time with a bit more vigor, and Jane patted him on the shoulder and rose. Tish fell in step behind her as she crossed the hallway to their room.
The big Irishman had finished packing his cases and was carrying them to the head of the stairs. Rob crossed the room to the bed and sat. It was just him and the psychic now… although he didn’t look like much of a psychic anymore. He looked more like a beaten child. Exhausted. Ill-used. His face and neck were still discolored from his self-inflicted injuries, and the marks were starting to turn into bruises. Big purple ones.
Rob wasn’t entirely convinced the cherubic man had battled some kind of malevolent entity, that some evil spirit had possessed him and caused him to do violence to himself, but in light of all the outlandish things he had already experienced tonight—not to mention the instinctive dread the house seemed capable of provoking every moment he lingered within its maladjusted walls—he was more than willing to give the little guy the benefit of the doubt. He had no intention of being one of those stupid horror movie stereotypes—Mister Calm N. Rational-- denying what was quite obvious to anyone with half a brain until the monster jumped out of a closet and ate him.
“Now, honey, you know there’s no such thing as—AAAAAAAHHH!”
No way, dude, not this fella! When people started strangling themselves and flying around the room, it was time to put reason aside until one had gotten oneself to a mini
mum safe distance.
Robert rubbed the little guy’s back. “It’s going to be all right,” he said. “We just have to hang tough for a little while longer.” He wasn’t exactly sure who he was trying to comfort more—the medium or himself.
The psychic nodded. He didn’t meet Robert’s eyes, just sat with his head down, staring at his hands.
Rob sighed, ashamed of himself. He knew he was responsible for the little dude’s injuries. His culpability might arguably be incidental, but it still weighed on his conscience, a mental millstone.
This house belonged to him now—by blood as well as by law. These investigators were here at his invitation. This kind of stuff might be their bread and butter, sure, but the house belonged to him. Any blood spilled here tonight was blood on his hands. It would be no different if he’d inherited a big old ’57 Chevy and went roaring down the sidewalk in the middle of town, mowing down pedestrians like bowling pins.
As if reading his thoughts, the man-child spoke. “It’s not your fault, Mr. Forester. You didn’t know.”
Goosebumps rashed across Robert’s skin. “I can’t help feeling I’m responsible for what happened to you. I just hope nothing else goes wrong tonight.”
“None of us knew what we were getting into,” Francis replied. “Not even me.”
They could hear Raj and Allen yelling in some other part of the house: “Dan! Billy! Where are you?” Their voices fell strangely flat in the thick atmosphere of the house.
Rob’s thoughts turned to Billy and his heart fluttered. He had dozed off shortly after lying down, visions of sugarcocks dancing in his head. Had Billy stolen away from his bed prematurely, too impatient to wait for Rob’s summoning whistle? Perhaps Billy had dozed off as well, and hurried downstairs when he awoke, afraid he’d slept through Robert’s signal.
Please, God, let him be okay, Rob thought.
Francis’s head jerked up suddenly, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “You’re keeping something from us,” he accused.
“What?” Rob twitched, yanking his arm from around the little fellow’s back. “What do you mean?”
“Something about Billy. I felt you thinking about him. What are you hiding about Billy?”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Rob lied, but his cheeks flamed.
Rob watched with horror and fascination as the medium’s pupils contracted to pinholes. He felt tingly little tendrils wriggling inside his skull. Just your imagination, he told himself, but he knew that that was as much a lie as his pretense of ignorance. The little man was rifling through his thoughts. He felt stripped naked.
Francis’s pupils returned to their normal size. He looked embarrassed. “I… I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” He looked down at his hands. “I thought for a second… you might have done something to him. I apologize for doing that to you. I know it’s unpleasant.”
“I understand,” Rob said. He swallowed and his dry throat made a crackling sound. “I’m worried about Billy, too.”
The little man’s shoulders slumped. The gesture said he had little hope his friend was all right, but then Jane returned and there was no time to discuss the secrets the psychic had pried from his brain. Rob rose from the bed to meet her, eager to be away from his home-- and away from the freaks he’d invited here to investigate it.
Jane had changed out of her pajamas. She was dressed in blue jeans and a long sleeved blouse. Tish had changed, too, and was helping Big Dan carry their equipment downstairs.
“Ready to go?” she asked Rob.
“More than ready,” Rob replied, trying not to worry about what he was going to do now.
He couldn’t live in the house. The idea was laughable. But he’d spent the last of his savings moving here from Seattle. He was broke. The only thing he owned, aside from his clothes and his art portfolio, was a hundred year old house that had mutated into some kind of psychic meat grinder.
Jane put on a brave smile, then turned to Francis. “Do you think you can walk outside to your car if we help you?” she asked.
“I think so,” Francis replied, and he raised his arms so they could help him to his feet.
3
“Dan!” Raj yelled as he and Allen crossed the foyer. “I swear, if he’s curled up on a sofa somewhere sneaking a nap, I’m going to throttle him!”
Allen chuckled. “I’ll hold him down for you.”
They both knew, however, that Dan Stein would be the last member of the group they were likely to catch snoozing on the job. Little Dan suffered from AADS and hyperactivity, aside from gluten intolerance. One soft drink and he was flying for hours.
Despite what he’d just said, Raj hoped their A/V technician was sleeping on one of the sofas. At least he’d be safe.
They entered the parlor, but the antique furnishings were unoccupied. The room was deserted.
“Maybe he fell asleep on the toilet,” Allen suggested, hands on his hips.
“Let’s check the tapes,” Raj said.
They sat at the table the video equipment was arranged upon. Allen wasn’t much of a computer guy, so he let Raj take the lead. The flickering light of the monitors deepened the lines of their faces as Raj ran the recordings in reverse.
“I can’t believe he’d just wander off alone like this. Especially here. He’s the biggest chicken I know,” Raj said.
“Billy, too. He’s usually a by-the-book kind of guy. When he isn’t running late, that is.”
“There! There goes Bill,” Allen said, pointing at the screen as Billy appeared on the camera they’d aimed at the east corridor. He walked rapidly in reverse as Raj rewound the video, backing out of the kitchen, then backpedalling through the foyer and up the stairs.
The picture flickered, then they saw Little Dan walk backwards through the foyer, just moments before Billy left his room.
“What was that flickering?” Allen asked. “The screen went all snowy for a second.”
“I don’t know, but I don’t like it.”
“It looks like they’re both on the east side of the house.”
Raj nodded. “Let’s go find them.”
Raj released the rewind key as they stood to leave the room. The video froze for an instant and then began to play at normal speed. If they had lingered to watch the video feeds a moment longer, they would have seen an amorphous shape passing through the second floor hallway a minute or so before Billy snuck out of his room.
It was indistinct, could easily have been mistaken for some kind of video artifact, but it looked eerily like a human figure passing by the bedroom doors. Human-like, but only if you dismissed the way it churned upon itself like a mass of snakes made of smoke.
They didn’t see it, however. They had hurried from the parlor an instant before it appeared on the monitors.
It wouldn’t have changed anything if they had.
4
“Here, hon, let me show you how to carry those,” Big Dan said when a coil of electric cables slipped from Tish’s arms. They were in the dining room. Big Dan skirted around the huge wooden table—which was still littered with the remnants of their supper, but he wasn’t cleaning that shit up, nuh-huh!-- and bent to retrieve the cables she’d dropped.
“I’m sorry,” Tish said, her voice wavering. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her hair was in disarray.
“Don’t worry about it, sweety,” Big Dan replied. “Here, wrap the cord around your arm like this.” He took her wrist and elbow and positioned her arm, then began to loop the thick orange cables around it, palm to elbow.
“They’re heavy!” Tish complained.
“I know. Can you manage them just a minute longer? We’re almost done.”
“I’ll try.”
Big Dan bent to pull another length of electric wiring from the floor. He grunted, jerking the wire back and forth, trying to work the duct tape loose. “Damn! I don’t know why Little Dan has to use so much tape!” he griped.
Tish just tried to avoid looking at his plumber’s crack.
“I can’t wait to get out of here,” Tish said, scowling at the big stuffed moose on the wall. It seemed to be staring at her with its dusty dead eyes. “Fucking zombie moose!” she shuddered. “I hate this place!”
They could hear Raj and Allen yelling for Dan and Billy. It sounded like their teammates were headed in their direction.
The last of the tape came loose with a tearing sound. Big Dan stood straight and pulled the silver strips from the cable, balling them and tossing them carelessly aside. He was normally a stickler for cleaning after himself, but he was just as eager as Tish to be away from Forester House. The atmosphere inside the home seemed to be growing denser and colder by the minute, as if some unseen agency was gathering its strength, preparing to attack.
“Here, hon,” he said, turning toward Tish. “Let’s wind up the rest of this cable, and then we’ll put it in the bag.”
“Hurry!” Tish whimpered. “I want out of here now!”
5
“We need to let Rob change out of his nightclothes before we go downstairs,” Jane said. Francis bobbed his head, and the three of them walked to the room Robert Forester had bunked in.
“I’ll be quick,” Rob promised. “Do you mind if I leave the door open? I’m afraid it’ll lock on me or something.” He laughed nervously.
“That’s fine. I completely understand. And don’t be embarrassed. I’ve seen men in their underwear before… believe it or not.” Jane smiled, pushing a strand of hair behind an ear.
Rob chuckled. “I don’t doubt that. You’re a very lovely woman.”
“Uh-huh,” Jane smirked.
Rob slipped out from under Francis’s arm and walked into the small bedroom. Tish and Big Dan had already removed the IR light and tripod-mounted camera. Robert scooped up the jeans and shirt he’d been wearing earlier and moved them to the bed, then shucked his sweatpants down his legs.