Berkley Street Series Books 1 - 9: Haunted House and Ghost Stories Collection

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Berkley Street Series Books 1 - 9: Haunted House and Ghost Stories Collection Page 59

by Ron Ripley


  “Yes,” Matias replied.

  “Do you know who she is?” Nancy asked.

  “I know who she was,” Matias said. “Or, rather, I know a good deal about who she was.”

  “Why was she here yesterday?” Nancy said.

  “She warned me that it would be my time soon,” Matias said.

  “What?”

  “My time to die,” Matias said. “She said she had made the decision.”

  “What? Why?” Nancy asked.

  Matias shrugged. “I wish I knew.”

  Nancy nodded her agreement. “Tell me.”

  “Tell you what?” Matias asked.

  “Everything about yesterday,” Nancy said. “I need to know.”

  Matias nodded, and he began to talk.

  Chapter 25: Sweet Dreams

  Karen Conlon loved the beach.

  She lay on her back, sunglasses on and the warm sun beating down. In the background, she heard the crash of waves and smelled the strong, pungent scent of the Atlantic Ocean. The towel beneath her was thick, brand new and purchased especially for the trip to Ogunquit. The radio was playing a soft R&B song she didn’t quite catch, but it had a beat that made her smile. She adjusted her position slightly and wondered how the day could get any better.

  A shadow fell across her face, and Karen opened her eyes. Through the dark lenses of her sunglasses, she saw a woman. A nurse.

  What in God’s name is she wearing? Karen thought. Damn thing looks like it came out of a costume shop! It reminded Karen of the uniforms early nurses had worn. Really early nurses.

  “Hey,” Karen said. “Not to be a jerk here or anything, but you’re standing directly in my sun.”

  “Your sun?” the woman asked. Her voice was sweet, melodic. “I didn’t know it was yours alone.”

  “It’s not,” Karen snapped. “But, you’ve got the whole beach to stand on. So, go stand somewhere else. You’re blocking me from getting a tan.”

  “I don’t want to stand on the whole beach,” the strange nurse said. “I want to stand here. Next to you.”

  “What are you, some kind of weirdo?” Karen asked, pushing herself up into a sitting position. She took off her glasses and looked at the woman. “Come on. Get out of here or I’ll call the lifeguard over, and he’ll deal with you.”

  “What lifeguard?”

  Karen turned around to yell to a lifeguard, and she realized there wasn’t one. In fact, there wasn’t anyone on the beach other than herself and the mystery nurse.

  Karen looked around quickly. There were dunes, but no houses behind them. Waves and the expanse of the ocean, yet no ships sailed on it. Even the lighthouse was missing from the Point. Her mouth went dry, and she clambered to her feet. She stood up and saw her towel was gone.

  “What’s going on?” Karen asked, her heartbeat quickening.

  “You’re being called to task,” the nurse said, all trace of pleasantness gone from her voice. “You have been lax in the care of your patients.”

  Karen’s anger flared. She pointed a finger at the stranger and said, “You listen to me–”

  Before she could continue, the nurse looked at Karen’s extended digit, and Karen screamed.

  Horrified, she watched as her finger bent backward at an unnatural angle. The bones broke crisply, and a pair of jagged ends suddenly protruded from her skin.

  Gasping in pain, Karen dropped to her knees. She held the mangled finger in front of her as she began to hyperventilate.

  The stranger smiled and asked, “Do you remember what the term hematemesis stands for?”

  Karen shook her head. The pain was tremendous, a terrifying weight crushing her.

  “Do you remember Sergeant Allen O’Hare?”

  “No,” Karen said, gasping. “What are you talking about?”

  “He was a young man, little more than a boy, really, at Sanford last month,” the woman explained. “He bled out. He called for you to help him. In the end, as I sat beside him, he called for his mother. Nothing more than a whisper. He could barely breathe; his throat raw. Do you remember now? The floor covered in blood?”

  Karen remembered. The mess. The blood everywhere. The organs falling apart.

  “He died,” Karen said, holding her injured hand. “Why does it matter?”

  “Because,” the stranger said. “I didn’t wish it. I hadn’t decided it was his time.”

  The woman straightened up. “Hematemesis, Nurse. What is it?”

  Karen shook her head.

  The stranger leaned in close and whispered, “Bloody vomiting.”

  Karen felt her stomach cramp, and she doubled over, the strong taste of blood filled her mouth. She opened her mouth to scream and vomited instead.

  Chapter 26: A Disturbing Event

  Brett sat at the nurse’s station, frustrated as he shook Karen again. She opened her eyes, glared at him, and went back to sleep. No matter how many times he woke her, the woman refused to stay awake.

  Brett resisted thoughts about the Nurse. He had a recurring fear about the dead woman stepping out of the room, and the old man from the elevator joining her.

  Karen groaned beside him, and he glanced over at her. She twitched in the chair and let out a whimper.

  Bad dream, Karen? Brett thought angrily. Maybe you shouldn’t sleep on your shift.

  He turned away from her and focused on the crossword puzzle from the day’s paper. Brett tapped the pen on the desktop, whistled softly to himself, and was promptly interrupted by Karen. The woman hacked noisily, and Brett twisted to face her.

  She needs to wake up, he thought, reaching out for her.

  As his hand touched the light blue shirt she wore, Karen jerked upright. Her eyes snapped open, and she screamed, “No!”

  No other words followed.

  Instead, Karen fell forward, grabbed the edge of the station. She opened her mouth wide and vomited.

  A dark red, arterial blood sprayed out of her mouth. It dripped from her lips and down her chin. The fluid stained her scrubs and misted out over the paperwork and the monitors.

  Karen stumbled back, short of breath, and Brett watched as she caught hold of the chair. She looked at him, terror in her eyes, and she vomited again. The blood launched from her mouth and caught his neck and chin, soaking him instantly. The smell struck him like a fist.

  She’s dying, Brett realized. He stepped forward, tried to take hold of her arms and she let out a scream. Her eyes darted about madly and for a third time she threw-up. Karen began to fall, and Brett eased her to the floor. He reached up under the desktop and hit the panic button.

  She tried to roll onto her back, but he stopped her, forcing her to remain on her side. He kept her head tilted slightly, and she convulsed in his hands. From the rooms he heard patients calling, asking what was going on.

  Doc arrived shortly and knelt down in the blood. He pried open Karen’s mouth, swept it with a finger and pulled out the tip of her tongue. Wordlessly Brett plucked a pen from the desktop and slipped it between Karen’s teeth.

  “Brett,” Doc said. “Look at her pants.”

  Brett did so, and he shuddered at the sight. The groin and rear were both stained with blood, more of the fluid leaking out onto the floor.

  “She won’t make it,” Brett said.

  Doc nodded.

  “I don’t think she’s even here now,” Brett continued.

  Doc nodded.

  “It’s alright, Brett,” Doc said, putting a hand on Brett’s shoulder. “She’s okay where she is. They always are.”

  In less than a minute the elevator doors opened, and the crash team raced out. Soon they had taken over, and Brett and Doc were removed to a separate room to be quarantined until it was determined what exactly Karen had died from.

  Chapter 27: Going into the Hospital

  Shane had gone through half a pack of Luckys by the time he reached Sanford. When he parked in the back lot, the sun had already begun to set.

  Shane sat in the car for
a minute and wondered, Maybe I should have come up in the morning.

  Then a cold voice, which reminded him distinctly of Drill Instructor Allen, said, Are you afraid of the dark now?

  Yup, Shane thought. But he got out of the car anyway. He went around to the trunk, opened it, took out his backpack and slung it over his shoulders. Shane slammed the trunk closed, and the sound echoed through the nearly empty lot. He turned and faced the building. Somewhere, a ghost waited. She didn’t hide. She didn’t need to. Sanford Hospital was hers, and it was Shane’s responsibility to challenge her.

  The men in Sanford were his brothers-in-arms. He couldn’t leave them to die at the hands of the Nurse.

  Shane got out a fresh cigarette, lit it, and realized he wasn’t alone.

  A young man stood in the shadow beneath a faulty lamp, and Shane knew the chill in the air wasn’t from an early autumn breeze.

  Shane exhaled into the sky and asked, “Want a smoke?”

  The stranger shook his head and stepped forward. He was young, maybe in his mid-twenties. His pajamas, decorated with the logo of the New England Patriots football team, were stained with blood; massive amounts of it. It looked as though someone had mopped up a casualty scene with them. The man’s lips and chin glistened with the liquid, his brown eyes fixed on Shane.

  Shane watched as the young man drifted in and out of focus, like an old movie’s bad special effect.

  “I know why you’re here,” the stranger said, his voice low and hard.

  “You do?” Shane asked.

  The young man nodded.

  “Please,” Shane said, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and smiling at him, “let me in on the secret.”

  The stranger didn’t smile. “You’re here to stop the Nurse.”

  Shane chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right about that. Well done. How’d you find out?”

  “The Nurse told us,” the young man said angrily. “You can’t stop her. She’s the only one who knows what she’s doing.”

  “Hold on there, chief,” Shane said. “I’m going to say ‘no’ to that one. Seems like she’s killing whoever she wants, regardless of whether they’re sick or not. She shouldn’t be the one who decides when someone dies. She needs to stop.”

  “Try to stop her then,” the stranger sneered. “We will protect her right to grant death to whom she sees fit.”

  Shane slipped the backpack off one shoulder and slid it around to the front of his chest. From an exterior pocket, he removed his knuckledusters. He put them on, flexed his fingers several times, and then said, “Why don’t you go back to the Nurse and tell her someone will be along shortly to speak with her.”

  The young man stepped forward and the temperature dropped several degrees. He clenched his hands into fists, and the lights around them flickered. “You’re going to leave her alone.”

  “Take a hint,” Shane said coldly. “Go away. Find someone else to bother. I’ve got things to do.”

  The stranger sprang at Shane, hands outstretched.

  Shane treated him as he would any other headstrong opponent. With a quick step forward he slammed the knuckledusters into the dead man’s face.

  The lights leaped back to their former brightness, the air instantly grew warmer, and the young man disappeared.

  Shane’s hand trembled as he raised the cigarette back to his lips, took a long, desperate drag off it and thought, Well, now I know she’s not the only ghost around.

  Chapter 28: Matias, Sanford Hospital, October 21st, 1980

  Matias hung up the phone and rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Everything alright?”

  He looked up at his roommate, a man named Albert Chevalier.

  “Yes,” Matias said. “Thank you. I’ve an old injury in my hip and my wife’s afraid one day they’ll have to take the leg. So she worries.”

  “So does my ex-wife,” Albert grinned, flashing a smile full of yellow teeth and partial dentures.

  “Does she?” Matias asked, swinging his legs up onto his bed.

  “Yes, she does,” Albert said. “If I die, then the money stops. It’s kind of nice to know at least one person’s praying for me on Sunday.”

  Matias chuckled. “What are you here for, Albert?”

  “Shrapnel,” Albert replied. “I was in supply in Danang. One day the Viet Cong mortared us. That was, oh hell, eleven years ago now? Each year I come back, and they do an x-ray, see if any more of it can be taken out.”

  “And what about this year?” Matias asked.

  “Oh yes, yes they can,” Albert said, sighing with satisfaction. “Looking forward to it. I work for the State of New Hampshire as a truck driver hauling materials for all the new constructions they’re doing on the highways. They hate it when I have to go in for surgery. Messes everything up.”

  “Does it?”

  Albert nodded. “Especially when I schedule it during everyone’s vacations.”

  Matias smiled and shook his head. “I am getting the impression you are not a popular man.”

  “My good sir,” Albert said with mock indignation, “I have no idea what you mean.”

  The two men chuckled and after a minute, Albert asked in a serious tone, “What about you, what are you here for?”

  “Something’s gone wrong with my hip,” Matias said. “They think there may be bone fragments mixed in with the old shrapnel. They won’t know until they do a secondary x-ray. Even then they may not be able to get it all out.”

  “Do you mind me asking what happened?” Albert said.

  “No,” Matias replied. “We were patrolling, and doing some basic counter-sniper work. Evidently, the sniper disagreed with it.”

  “Korea?” Albert asked.

  “No,” Matias said, smiling. “Vietnam.”

  “Damn,” Albert said appreciatively. “I had you pegged for the Second World War, maybe Korea. Sure as hell didn’t think you’d have done time in Vietnam.”

  “I did,” Matias said. “Ended my career as well.”

  Someone’s scream cut off Albert as he started to speak. Both men looked at one another, and they quickly got out of their beds. Matias felt certain they looked foolish hobbling quickly to the door, but it didn’t matter.

  Something was wrong.

  In spite of his limp, Matias reached the door first. He pulled it open and both he and Albert looked out into the hall.

  A man who looked younger than both of them scrambled backward, terror etched on his face while his brow glistened with sweat. Up and down the hallway men looked out of their rooms, but none of the staff could be found.

  “No!” the man on the floor shrieked. “It’s not my time!”

  “What the hell,” Albert whispered.

  Matias had no answer.

  The nurse he had seen years earlier, the dead woman in the old uniform, stood a short distance from the screaming man. She gave the patient an understanding smile, and it was then Matias realized how cold the temperature in the hallway was. Some of those who watched turned away and closed their doors. Soon only a handful of men, including Matias and Albert, remained.

  “It is your time, Jonathan,” the Nurse said patiently. “We’ve discussed this. It was no mere dream, our little conversation. I wanted you to prepare. To make your peace with God and your family. I will wait no longer. It is time.”

  “Help me!” Jonathan screamed, looking around desperately. “Please!”

  Matias tried to leave the room, but with a hand gesture from the Nurse, he and Albert were thrust backward. The door slammed shut. A heartbeat later, a terrible, keening wail rose up.

  In silent agreement, Matias and Albert grabbed hold of the door and tried to pull. Regardless of how hard they pulled, the two men were trapped in the room. Panting, they finally gave up the effort. They stood, heads hanging down, and listened. They could do nothing more.

  In the hallway beyond, the Nurse had murdered Jonathan.

  Albert and Matias turned away from the door. They exchanged no wor
ds as they returned to their beds.

  Matias reached out for the phone, but Albert stopped him.

  “It’s a ghost.” The man’s voice was hoarse. “Do you think anyone will do anything?”

  Matias put his hand down. “No.”

  Albert laid down and stared at the ceiling.

  Matias remained upright on his own bed. He looked at the door.

  Where’s the staff? he wondered. Why weren’t they here? Why was it Jonathan’s time?

  When will it be my time?

  The thought was cold and unpleasant.

  Yes, he thought. When will it be my time?

  There was, of course, no answer.

  He winced, brought his legs carefully up onto the mattress and stretched out. Matias left the light by his bed on, and so did Albert.

  In the stillness of the room, Matias couldn’t help but wonder how Jonathan had been killed.

  Chapter 29: Doc and Brett in Isolation

  “Have they said how long we'll be in here?” Doc asked, yawning as he sat up.

  Brett shook his head. “They’ll get through the blood tests pretty quickly I assume. They had to isolate the entire ward, clear people out. Last I heard there was a scrub team going in there.”

  “Good,” Doc said, getting off the bed. “I like you, Brett. But I don’t know if I want to end up spending a couple of days stuck in here with you.”

  “Thanks,” Brett said, chuckling. “You’re a real pal.”

  “I know,” Doc said, grinning. “So no real word as to what’s going on?”

  “No,” Brett said. “Nothing.”

  The room was small and hermetically sealed. The lights were exceptionally bright, and the room was a comfortable 72 degrees Fahrenheit. Whatever Brett or Doc wanted, someone would bring to them. The only trick was they couldn’t leave until someone cleared them.

  The door to the room opened, and someone walked in. They passed through the secondary seal and came to a stop outside the third seal.

  “Hello,” the stranger said. Brett thought it was a man, but he couldn’t be sure. The voice was muffled since the stranger wore a full-body bio suit. And the facemask was tinted.

 

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