His boots thumped against the hard-packed dirt as he traversed the building’s perimeter, taking stock of tools hanging in racks on the wall. Shovels and rakes leaned together in a corner. A red metal wheelbarrow held worn gloves, a gardening trowel and shovel, clippers, and a partial bag of potting soil. When he looked to where the extension ladder should’ve been, he stopped, a scowl darkening his face. With a shake of his head, he resumed his pacing.
“You know, you’ve been having some hellacious nightmares.” He crossed his arms and looked down at her with musing curiosity. “Or should I say, memories?” Carson chuckled. “I would never have believed anything like this could happen. But when I heard how your voice changed to sound exactly like little bitch Jennifer Miles when she called for her mommy right before she died—” He stopped and looked gleefully impressed. “Well, I have to tell you, it sent shivers up my spine. To think someone can actually be possessed by spirits and forced to relive death over and over again is astounding. But don’t worry,” he said, his face splitting with an evil grin. “Soon you’ll be living your own death and it’ll all be over. I’m going to put you out of your misery, Kelly Bitch. I’m going to get rid of all of you, once and for all. And you know what the best part is?” he asked, raising his unnaturally light brow as if expecting an answer. “Your boyfriend is going to be blamed for everything.”
His cackle reverberated off the metal walls making Kelly cringe in terror. When her eyes rolled back and her lids began to flutter, he gave her face a blistering slap.
“Oh, no you don’t, bitch. Don’t you go drifting off again. I want you to know exactly when it’s time to die.”
Carson shook his head in agitation. “It could’ve been over with by now if we hadn’t had to wait. Police are such a nuisance, aren’t they? Tacking their yellow crime scene tape everywhere, standing around drinking coffee and eating pastries, totally oblivious that they’re being watched. I thought they’d never leave. It’s enough to make a person retch,” he said in disgust as he removed his long, black wool coat and hung it on a sturdy wall-hook installed to hold a heavy tool.
He rolled up the sleeves of his blue-on-white flannel shirt and walked over to the ten foot long, four foot wide worktable. He stood for a moment with his hands on his hips, then began clearing its surface. When he was finished removing all of the paint supplies, he ran a caressing finger along its sanded edge.
“A fine piece of work, don’t you think? I made it myself. You’d never know there was a death pit underneath, would you?”
He heaved the table out of the way to reveal a masonry ring capped by a concrete slab. Three heavy metal eyelets had been inserted into the slab’s edge to ensure easy removal.
Carson retrieved three hanging chains that were threaded into a pulley attached to a supporting roof joist. He hooked each one to a matching eyelet, then went to a crank mounted to the wall and began turning the handle. As the slab lifted, it made an abrasive, scraping noise, and the ominous sound sent a delicious chill over his body. He turned back to Kelly with an ironic smile.
“Smell that?” His eyes glinted with insanity. “It’s the stench of death. Deliciously aromatic, don’t you think?
“It must be an awesome feeling to know the exact moment you’re going to die,” he said. “My little sister knew. All of the others knew as well. You can see it in their eyes, you know. It really is amazing to watch. I wish I could’ve seen my mother. But I found her after she was already dead. The bitch committed suicide just because her precious Emily was dead. She knew I did it. She knew I threw that stupid little bitch down the well, and it ate her up.
“And you want to know why? Because she knew it was her fault. She made me!” He growled and his eyes grew wild. He thumped his chest hard with his fist then swung his arms wide. “She created me, and when I became old enough to make my own demands, she became frightened. It was her fault because she decided she didn’t want me anymore. She stopped loving me and took another man. Then she had the gall to get pregnant!”
His eyes were blazing and his nostrils flared. His long, agitated strides took him back and forth as he raved.
“Bitch!”
He returned to his hanging coat and took a revolver from its pocket. He slammed it down on the table. He stared at it for a long moment before pointing at it with a steady, condemning finger.
“That’s what she used! She blew her brains out with it.” Carson gave his head an incredulous shake. “Not a pretty sight.”
Throwing back his head, he let out a howling, scornful laugh. It careened off the metal walls and seemed to become a living thing. Cowering, Kelly drew her knees up to become as small as she could and covered her head with her bound hands.
“The bitch deserved to die for what she did to me!” he said, his voice rough and menacing. He turned to Kelly with a wondrous, wide-eyed expression as if he were talking to a sympathetic, captivated audience. “Can you believe she sold everything right out from under me? She took the money and waved it in my face. Then she threw it in the fire! I couldn’t believe it. All of that money, and I had to sit there and watch it burn. I was left with absolutely nothing. I had to scrimp and beg just to stay alive! Can you even fathom in that little brain of yours how absolute my humiliation was?” Carson shook his head again and turned away.
“And then Theodore Chandler took pity on me.” His voice was mocking. “He helped me get into college. Wasn’t that generous of him?” he asked, contempt dripping from each word. “Hell, he’s the one who ruined my life in the first place. He’s the one who bought the house and paid my mother the money I had to watch burn! But I got him back. I made sure that sanctimonious bastard paid dearly for taking everything away.”
Kelly struggled with her bonds. Catching the motion, he looked at her as if he’d forgotten she was there. He smiled and something cold flickered in his eyes.
“Have you ever cut yourself and watched the blood ooze from the wound? I find it fascinating, don’t you? If we only had more time, we could explore the possibilities together. I’d love to give you the proper attention you deserve.”
He lifted Kelly off the ground. She squirmed in panic and tried to scream, but the adhesive covering her mouth muffled the sound.
“You know, I’m really going to enjoy this,” he said. “You have very expressive eyes.”
“Freeze!”
Carson whirled with Kelly in his arms and saw Winward and Hayes standing in the doorway. Their guns were drawn and aimed at his head.
“Put her down, Carson,” Hayes directed. “It’s over.”
“It’s not over,” Carson scoffed. “They’re still alive.”
“It’s over!” Winward demanded.
Letting Kelly’s feet fall to the ground and holding her against him like a shield, Carson snatched the revolver from the table. He fired a shot in Winward’s direction, but missed as the two detectives flung themselves inside, diving for cover.
“Stay away! You can’t stop me,” Carson yelled, dragging Kelly toward the well.
A deep, blood-chilling growl gave warning as Tom suddenly appeared in the doorway, stalking hungrily toward him. His predatory stare held the promise of death, and Carson cringed as he raised his gun and fired. His maniacal laughter rang out when Tom spun and hit the ground.
Suddenly, Tom jerked. A vapor lifted from his body and Carson’s eyes widened. As it took form, his muscles went slack, letting Kelly slip from his grasp to crumple on the ground. He cried out as Kelly’s body began to writhe with seizures.
One by one, seven more vapors appeared and took shape. Each one was of a different little girl, and Carson stood in awestruck horror as he watched his victims gather around him, unaware that Tom crawled on his belly to where Kelly lay motionless.
The long, fluorescent light tubes overhead suddenly flared and shattered, spraying razor shards of glass. Objects were lifted and flung through turbulent air. Windows shook in their frames. Metal stretched and screeched as the structure around the
m flexed with the force growing within.
“We’ve come for you, brother.” Emmy’s little girl voice was hollow and surreal. Her accusing eyes pinioned him with their stare. “We want you to join us. Join us, brother.”
“Join us.”
“Join us.”
“Join us.”
Their hollow voices blended into a haunting chant; overriding the chaos around them. As the girls stepped close, the chant grew in volume causing Carson to press his hands over his ears. His eyes grew wild with confusion as he began to shake.
“No!” he screamed, raising his gun. “You’re all dead. I killed you!”
Sound exploded as bullets ricocheted off the steel walls, and Carson shrieked as the unscathed circle closed in around him. He slung his arms wildly to force them back, but only managed to throw himself off balance. Lurching forward, he took a step toward the open door as Emmy’s image lengthened then narrowed and became arrow sharp. Her spirit penetrated between his shoulder blades with lightning speed and he threw his arms and head back like he had been dealt a solid, hard blow. The next little girl made him stagger, and as they took possession one by one, his convulsions intensified, becoming more violent until he finally collapsed to his knees.
Deep gashes began to appear, dripping blood over darkening bruises. The mass of his body withered while breaking bones crackled and impaled muscle to create gaping, grotesque wounds that soaked his clothes in blood. His face swelled with infection as putrid sores erupted, and the smell of burnt flesh reeked as invisible fire seared his skin. His body, contorting in agony, fell to its side, and his rasping screams grew deafening before they began to gurgle. After a moment that seemed to stretch forever, the terrible sound abruptly ended along with the impotent clicking of his empty gun.
Tom looked up from where he laid on the ground with Kelly beneath him and saw Carson lying prone and unmoving. He was turned toward him and Tom shuddered to see wide, hemorrhaged, dead eyes staring back at him from a mutilated face.
Kelly shifted and Tom looked down to see her watching him with clear, lucid eyes. He smiled as he carefully peeled the tape from her lips.
“Is it over?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said, holding her close. “It’s all over.”
Winward appeared and eyed them critically where they still lay on the ground. “Are you two all right?”
“We’re okay.”
Tom sat up and began removing the tape binding Kelly’s wrists and ankles, and her eyes widened in alarm.
“Tom! You’re bleeding.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“Here, I’d better take a look,” Winward said, squatting.
Kelly helped Tom out of his ruined leather coat. Winward opened the buttons of Tom’s bloody shirt and pushed it back from his shoulder.
“It’s a shoulder wound. And it appears to be clean. The bullet went straight through. You’re lucky he was a lousy shot,” he said, peeling out of his own coat and wrapping it around Kelly’s bare shoulders.
Tom grimaced with the pain and controlled his breathing. “I don’t think luck had anything to do with it,” he said, watching Hayes pass Winward a stack of clean rags and a roll of tape he’d found on a shelf against the wall. He gritted his teeth as Winward pressed the rags against his wounds.
“Do you know what happened?” Tom ground out.
Winward glanced up and then back down at Tom’s wound as he began to tightly wrap the tape to hold the pads in place. “Yeah, and I wish I didn’t. I’ve never seen anything like it and I hope to God I never do again.”
“You know, that was a pretty dumb stunt you pulled,” Hayes said, rising from his inspection of Carson’s ravaged body. “Courageous as hell, but dumb. You could’ve been killed.”
Tom’s shoulder was throbbing. Grinding his teeth, he carefully shrugged back into his coat. He pulled Kelly against him and held her close to shield her from the sight of Carson’s corpse. He felt her hands slip up his back and chest beneath his coat and press gently against his shoulder wounds. Heat began seeping into his muscles.
“And what would you have done, Detective, if someone you loved were in danger?”
Hayes grunted. “Something just as courageous and equally stupid, I suppose. I saw you get hit. That shoulder must hurt like hell.”
“Is that all you saw?” Tom asked, breaking into a cold sweat as he slowly rose to his feet, bringing Kelly up with him.
Hayes scowled. “No. I guess I’m like Merideth Chandler. Even though I don’t understand it, I’ve been forced to believe. But I bet she ain’t never seen nothin’ like that.” He cast a glance over his shoulder, then looked at Tom and Kelly and shook his head.
“Come on, little lady,” he said, pulling Kelly away from Tom and lifting her into his massive arms. “I think it’s time we got you out of here.”
“Tom’s losing blood. He needs a doctor,” she said.
Winward slipped beneath Tom’s good arm to help support his weight. “Don’t worry. Your man will be well taken care of.”
They all froze as the disembodied melody of a familiar lullaby suddenly teased the silence. The woman’s lilting hum rose and fell with haunting gentleness as if soothing a sleepy child.
“Mama?” The little girl’s voice was heartrending with innocence.
“Come, my angel. It’s time to go home.”
EPILOGUE
Tom pulled Kelly against him as they reached the door of Marsha’s hospital room. “I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too.”
Ignoring nurses in their cheerfully printed smocks gliding past soundlessly on rubber soles, he lowered his head and kissed her with slow deliberation. When the door opened, they were still in each other’s arms.
“I thought I heard kissing out here.” Jonathan’s grin broad-ened. “And here I was, thinking Marsha and I were the only ones allowed.”
“Shows how much you know,” Tom replied.
“Nice sling, man. Do they come in designer colors?”
Tom chuckled and eyed his friend. “What’s gotten into you? You’re certainly in a good mood.”
“I have excellent reason to be. Come see for yourself.”
Jonathan led the way into a private room that was bright with sunshine and splashed with color. Floral bouquets of every variety took up the horizontal space, and in the center of it all, they found a smiling Marsha, sitting upright with the bed in its raised position.
“Hey, sweetheart, how’re you feeling?” Tom asked, kissing her upturned cheek.
“Much better, thanks. The doctor said I was lucky. My injuries aren’t as bad as they could’ve been. I’m already up and slowly walking the halls. I had my first real shower today and it was glorious. I just hope it doesn’t take too long for these damn bruises on my face to disappear.”
“It won’t,” Kelly said, taking Marsha’s hand, careful of the IV taped to its back. “You just have to give yourself time to heal. It’s only been a week.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling her. But does she listen to me? You’d think two days in intensive care would teach her something.” Jonathan shook his head. “She’s still as impatient as ever.”
“Oh, hush.” Marsha waved a shooing hand in Jonathan’s direction as she eyed Kelly. “I’m glad you came,” she said, squeezing Kelly’s abnormally warm hand. “It seems like every time you do, I feel better.” She chuckled. “And every time I see you, you’re looking more wonderful.”
Kelly flashed a smile. “I feel wonderful. It’s amazing what a few days rest and a generous portion of tender loving care can do.”
Marsha grinned and winced as she stretched a healing split lip. Turning her attention to Tom, she fingered the sling supporting his arm. “So, hero, how’s the shoulder?”
“The shoulder’s fine.” He cast Kelly a secretive smile. “And getting better every day.”
“It’d better be,” Jonathan said. “I’m going to need your services as soon as Marsha’s better.”
>
“My services,” Tom repeated. “To do what?”
“To be my best man.”
“You’re kidding.” Tom’s face split with a comical grin. “So, you’re finally taking the plunge?”
“With both feet and the rest of me following.”
“He’d better,” Marsha declared. “After everything he said to me when he thought I was dying, there’s no way I’m letting him worm his way out this time.” She blew Jonathan a kiss, then turned to Kelly. “I’d love it if you’d be my maid of honor.”
Kelly’s surprised look transformed into a smile of pleasure. “I’d love to.”
“Great. Just let us know when you want us to return the favor.”
Tom draped his good arm across Kelly’s shoulders and laughed. “We’ll be sure to.”
“Have you heard anything else from Winward?” Jonathan asked, bringing up the subject on everyone’s mind.
“He called last night. They’re finishing up their investigation. I can move back in anytime.”
“That means they’ve explored the well,” Marsha said, taking Jonathan’s hand.
Tom gave a solemn nod. “Yeah. They found the seven victims still unaccounted for. They brought up the last of the remains yesterday.”
Jonathan shook his head. “I still can’t believe everything that’s happened. But maybe now, everything can be put to rest.”
“I hope so.”
A soft knock on the heavy door drew their attention. Detective Winward stood in the doorway.
“Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all,” Jonathan said, waving him in. “As a matter of fact, we were just talking about you.”
Winward’s lips creased with a grin. “I’ll bet you were,” he said as he turned to Marsha. “I wanted to see how you were doing. You look like you’re feeling much better.”
“I am. The nurses already have me up walking the halls. I’ll be out of here in no time.”
“That’s good. That’s real good. I’m glad to hear it.”
“How’s Brenda Kellerman?” Tom asked.
Portrait of Rage (The Marcel Experience Book 1) Page 34