by Hunter Shea
He held her hand. “We’re supposed to be. Alexander can hurt us.”
“But do you really think he is—”
“I brought two glasses of water just in case,” Jessica said, returning to the room. “You two cuddling up to stay warm? I don’t blame you.”
Alice wordlessly went back to her bed, accepting the drink and finding it hard to swallow.
“Trouble in paradise?” Nina mocked when Tobe rejoined the group.
“Just a case of second thoughts. Nothing to worry about. So, have you decided to start again?”
Mitch slapped his hands on his knees and rose from his chair. The bruised puffiness around his eye was getting worse by the minute. “I doubt we can top what we got earlier, but there’s no reason to stop now.”
Rusty kicked an empty camera bag across the floor. “No reason to stop? How about we cut it out before someone gets really hurt, or even killed.”
Nina waved his concerns off with a dismissive flick of her hand. “No one in history has ever been killed by a ghost, not even that whole Bell Witch fable. Unless, of course, you get so scared you have a heart attack.” Her lips curled with a devious smile.
“When half the objects in a house are being thrown around, anything’s possible,” Rusty said. He turned to Tobe. “Your wife and children are in the house now. Don’t you care even the slightest about them?”
Tobe felt a wellspring of anger explode in his chest. He had to fight the urge to take Rusty by the throat and throttle him for all he was worth.
Instead, he kept his cool. “They’re quite safe with Jessica and Eddie upstairs.”
“More than safe,” Nina chimed. “Don’t let Eddie’s aw shucks face fool you. There’s no one on this planet that can do what he can.”
“Then why don’t we ask him to make this stop?” Rusty said.
“That’s not the point of this whole project, is it?” Mitch said. “If it stops, we have an incomplete film.”
“We have more than enough to shock the hell out of anyone that sees this.”
Tobe said, “Mitch is right, what we have is a fantastic start, but just think what else can come of this? And there’s no reason why it can’t be revisited again and again. We’ll have a parade of debunkers and amateur ghost hunters paying to experience it for themselves.”
Putting his hand in his pants pocket, he felt the key that Daphne had asked for. I don’t want her to ruin our big reveal. I should hide it. God knows what’s in that attic. It’ll make a great scene, regardless. Attics and basements scared the piss out of people. If Jessica and Eddie don’t want to take part, they can’t go there.
While Rusty continued to debate with Mitch and Nina, he casually walked to the inlaid bookshelves and placed the key on the topmost shelf, pushing it back against the wall.
His fingertips still tingled from slapping his wife. He’d been just as surprised by it as she had, though his anger at her need to destroy their plans and future prevented him from expressing it. It was best he slept in one of the vacant rooms tonight. No apology would be enough. At least not yet.
“Fuck you, Mitch. I didn’t sign on for this,” Rusty blurted.
“Actually, buddy, you did,” Mitch said.
Tobe noticed how Paul had stayed out of the heated conversation. He sat staring at the flames. He never had been one for confrontation. Do I have to worry about him going turncoat too?
Mitch put a beefy, reassuring hand on Rusty’s shoulder. “I see your point. We had no way of knowing it would be this wild. But we’re all here and there’s nowhere to go. So please, just help us. I don’t expect you to agree with what we’re doing or like it. All I ask is that you be the professional I’ve always known you to be. This will be over before you know it and your kids will have their college paid for.”
Rusty let out a long sigh, visibly collapsing within himself. Mitch was right. Even cocksure Tobe couldn’t have said it any better.
Rusty strode to the other side of the room, grabbed his camera and stormed out of the library.
Nina rose from her chair and said, “Problem solved.” She ran her fingers through Paul’s hair. “Come on Paul, Yule log time is over.”
He turned to her, the dancing firelight making it look as if the flames of hell had been stoked within his skull. Nina walked him out of the library, whispering something into his ear.
Mitch smiled at Tobe. “Ready for round two?”
Jason and Alice were just about asleep when Daphne poked her head through the doorway. “Do you mind sitting with them for another five minutes?”
Jessica, who had been sitting at the end of Alice’s bed, said, “Take your time.” Daphne’s eyes were red and watery. She’d definitely been crying. Her pale skin had lost even more of its color. What happened to her?
“Thank you. I’ll be right back.” She gently closed the door.
Jessica turned to Eddie. “Something didn’t go well.”
“Nothing’s going well.” He watched Jason turn to his side, hunkering deeper under the covers. He leaned forward and whispered, “All of the EBs are in the house right now. I’m guessing there are well over a hundred.”
Jessica rubbed her arms. “That must be why I can’t get the hair on my arms to go down. I thought it might be because we’re living in a freezer.”
Eddie nodded, his face dark, somber. “They’re all here, on this floor, but they’re staying out of this room. When Daphne opened the door, she was swallowed up by them. I actually had a hard time seeing her through their bodies.”
“Has that ever happened before—the dead superimposing over the living?”
“No. Then again, I’m with you. A day with Jessica Backman always brings surprises.” He made a feeble attempt at a grin. “We have to get to that attic. The EBs aren’t saying anything, but I’m getting an overwhelming urge to go up there.”
Jessica stared at the closed door, wondering what it would feel like when she walked through, knowing she was wading through masses of the dead.
She said, “When Daphne comes back, key or no key, we’re going.”
Chapter Thirty
Rusty grumbled to himself as he locked his camera onto a tripod. He used heavy-duty duct tape to secure the three legs to the floor. If things started flying again, he didn’t want the expensive camera thrown about.
Paul and Nina were engaged in private conversation, probably talking about what they would say when they resumed rolling. Mitch and Tobe were in the kitchen, getting drinks and some ice for Mitch’s eye.
This is insane. I didn’t come here to film something out of a B horror movie.
Satisfied that the tripod wasn’t going anywhere unless a hurricane blew through the house, he double-checked the charge on all of their equipment. Everything was in working order. He wondered how long that would last.
What’s next—floating candelabras?
A thought occurred to him. What if all of this was staged? Mitch seemed awful calm. So did Tobe. Could it be they both had rigged the place, keeping him, Paul and Nina in the dark so they could capture their very real reactions? It almost made sense. Yes, Nina and Paul shouldn’t be aware of it because they were on-camera. But Rusty wasn’t. Maybe Mitch realized I wouldn’t come if I thought this was all just some hoax.
That had to be it. What was going on here was downright insane. There was no way it was the work of ghosts.
But then, how did they make it so damn cold. And not just in the house?
That would take some thinking.
“You guys almost ready?” he called down to the kitchen.
“Be right there,” Mitch answered.
“How about you two?” he asked Paul and Nina. The psychic had regained her composure but Paul still looked jittery. He kept fiddling with his beard, his fingers working through it like automated knitting needles.
P
aul answered, “Yeah, sure. We thought we should start over here, and you could follow us as we walk to the front door.”
“That’s doable.” He handed Paul a new, fully charged audio recorder from his shirt pocket. “Here, that other one is toast.”
“Thanks.”
Nina sidled up beside him, smelling of jasmine and sweet spices. “You seem nervous. If you like, I could create a barrier of white light around you to offer protection.”
He peered into her eyes, looking for any trace of sarcasm.
Oh boy, she’s serious.
“Do you always do that for yourself before you try to interact with spirits?”
“Of course. Any medium worth their salt knows to protect themselves from the dark.”
Rusty tittered. “Well, it looks like it didn’t do much for you before. I’ll stick to whatever light I currently have.”
Nina’s lip curled and he swore she was going to growl at him. Spinning on her heels with more drama than was necessary, she went back to tending to Paul.
Everyone in this house is crazy, including me for even being here.
Walking the route Nina and Paul would take, he mapped out in his mind where the stationary camera shot would end and the handheld would begin. Mitch and Tobe returned to the great room, talking things over with Paul and Nina. Rusty looked up the winding stairs. He’d forgotten for a moment that there were five more people upstairs, two of them completely innocent, four if you counted Jessica and Eddie. He wondered if it gave the kids comfort, hearing the bustle of adults in the house, even if it might keep them awake. He sure as hell would have preferred it to pregnant silence, waiting for ghostly sounds, if he was a kid.
“Come on, Rusty, let’s get the show on the road,” Mitch said.
“Coming.”
Rusty judged where he would stand while Paul and Nina stopped at the door, aware of anything that might be in his way or trip him up.
He turned away from the door, heading to the great room when he saw them.
Three girls, triplets, each of them sharing the same slack expression, jaws partly open, deep set eyes under furrowed brows, stared at him from within the mirror on the foyer wall. They weren’t pale or wispy or ethereal in any sense. In fact, their skin was slightly tan, their matching tops printed with colorful flowers. There was something strange about them, whether it was the off-kilter geometry of their faces or the emptiness behind their dull eyes or both, he wasn’t sure. Learning disabled, he thought. Or when he was a kid in simpler and less sensitive times, people would have said retarded.
He spun, expecting to find three strangers standing behind him.
They weren’t there.
Heart galloping, he slowly faced the mirror. Their breath fogged the glass from within. They stared at him with an emptiness that was alien and disturbing.
“Guys, come over here,” he said, finding it hard to push the words out. He wanted to run but his legs ignored him.
Blood rushed to Rusty’s head. He was dizzy. He couldn’t break their gaze, no matter how much he wanted to.
He reached out to the mirror, his fingertips mere inches away from the cold, flat surface.
“Seriously, I need you all to see this,” he said.
Nina’s heels clacked on the bare wood floor.
The girls raised their hands, seeming to reach out for him.
Oh my God, this is real.
His finger pressed against the glass the moment Nina turned the corner. The girls turned their heads in her direction, vanishing before she could see them.
But the condensation of their breath remained on the glass, retracting clouds of spirit vapor that left ice water on Rusty’s finger.
“He won’t give me the key,” Daphne said. One of her cheeks was heavily powdered. Eddie thought he saw a rose mark at the edge of her jawline. Her red-rimmed eyes were in stark contrast to her alabaster skin.
“Don’t worry, we can still get to the attic if you can tell us which room has access,” Jessica said, deftly avoiding whatever had happened downstairs.
“It’s across the hall, the second bedroom from the right. There’s a door to the left when you go inside. That leads to the attic.”
“Have you been in there before?” Eddie asked, noting the slight tremble in her hands. Cupping her elbow, he led her to the chair positioned between the two beds. Jason and Alice were fast asleep.
She shook her head. “As a rule, I don’t like attics. I’m not a fan of spiders and they tend to collect there. Tobe thinks it will add atmosphere to their film. He doesn’t want me to spoil it for them. I…I honestly don’t understand him at all right now. This is so unlike him.”
They left her staring at a spot on the floor, overcome by her emotions.
“I think he hit her,” Eddie hushed.
Jessica had taken her makeshift lock-picking tools from her pocket and was already at work on the bedroom door.
“I know he did,” she said. “But we have something bigger to do right now.”
They heard Rusty say, “Seriously, I need you all to see this.”
Eddie closed his eyes, let the house and everything in it come to him. When he opened them, Jessica had successfully picked the lock and was turning the knob. “They just made themselves appear to Rusty,” he said. “I get the impression they got a kick out of scaring him. These kids were powerless when they were alive. They’re beginning to realize they hold some of the cards now.”
As the door swung open on rusted hinges, Eddie peered inside, pulling Jessica back.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“They’re all in there,” he said.
“Not just the Last Kids?”
“Them and a lot more.”
Eddie waded within their ephemeral bodies, their intent gazes following his every move. Reaching up for a metal cord, he pulled down, filling the room with light. The empty floor and bare walls were covered with a thin, sparkling sheen of frost. Eddie watched as a dragon’s breath of rolling clouds of smoke poured from his mouth and nose.
Can you please let us pass through to the attic? he asked them. Their psychic silence produced a dull tickle that ran across his scalp. He futilely scratched at his temple.
“Holy shit, it’s freezing,” Jessica said, close behind him.
“I didn’t want you to come in yet,” he said. “It might be a little overwhelming.”
Jessica pulled back her sleeve. Every hair stood at attention. She started to shiver. He watched the EBs float in and out of her, their icy touch sending off every alarm built into the protective systems that had been finely honed over the millennia to keep man and woman from danger.
“Are you all right?” he asked, holding his hand out to her.
She paused, took a breath, expelling it in a mushroom cloud of vapor. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just trying to get my bearings.”
“That’s fight or flight vying for control. Just hold onto me. I’ll try to get them to back off.”
He looked into their faces, teens to toddlers, impossibly gathered into the small room. Again, there was an alarming number of children that didn’t look right, deformities that made him cringe. They want to be here when we go in the attic.
Addressing them all, he said, I just need you to clear a path. If you keep touching Jessica, she won’t be able to help you. You want our help, right?
Jessica’s teeth chattered. The flesh of her hand had turned the texture and temperature of the grave.
The EBs parted. A narrow path to the door that led to the attic was made for them. Jessica sighed.
“I’m all right now,” she said.
“That’s because they’re letting you be, at least for now. Be careful how you step. It’s icy as hell.”
He helped her to the door where she once again crouched down and worked at the lock. It took a lot l
onger than the bedroom door. She cursed under her breath. Eddie watched the EBs react, the younger ones recoiling with silent gasps.
“Better watch your language. There are children present. I think you’re freaking them out.”
“Sure, I’m the one freaking them out. This lock is old and probably rusted.” Her fingers worked cautiously. “Don’t want to break it. If we have to bust the door in, that’ll alert the fools downstairs.”
Eddie felt the EBs’ impatience. They were only going to hold back so long.
He knew not to rush her. That would only make her mad and slow things even more.
The spirit children were at his back, pressing closer like hundreds of acupuncture needles stabbing up and down his spine.
Jessica angled the screwdriver high, twisting the unbent paperclip. “Almost there.”
So were the EBs.
Something clicked inside the lock. Jessica gave the knob a hard twist. She had to push her shoulder against the wood to crack the door open.
“Ladies first,” she said, grabbing a flashlight from her pocket and snapping it on, ascending into the darkness.
Paul’s stomach roiled and rumbled. He had to stop his on-camera dialogue with Nina twice because he thought for sure he was going to blow chunks. His head pounded with pent up pressure.
Enjoy the guilt. You’ve earned it.
Tobe watched him with heavy-lidded eyes, ready to pounce should he make an excuse to call it a night.
“No one will come to the island, lest they disturb the unsettled rest of the two dozen children who perished here. Their disturbing deaths were also an end to the Ormsby family line. The people of Charleston made a conscious effort to let the story die with them, a shame so great, they wanted to hide it from the world,” Nina said. She spoke with her eyes closed, hands atop the old, scarred dining room table, “reading” the history of the house. “Paul, I’m seeing something. It’s…it’s awful.”
He forced himself to feign concern, asking, “What is it?”
“There were two men. No, three. They came to the island looking for help. They were met by two of the Ormsby children. Something about their boat having engine trouble.”