The Haunting of Emily Stone

by Amy Cross

  “You believe us?” Emily whispered.

  “I believe you.”

  A moment later, there was a loud knock on the front door.

  “Then you have to help us,” Emily told him, as she pulled Lizzie tighter. “They'll take her away!”

  “Stay here,” he replied, “and shut the hell up, all of you.”

  Taking the broken ankle-monitor, he ran downstairs and hurried to the front door. On the other side of the frosted glass, two dark figures were bathed in the police car's flashing blue light. He took a moment to compose himself, frantically trying to work out what he was going to say, before pulling the door open.

  “What the hell took you so long?” he shouted.

  “Where's Emily Stone?” one of the officers asked, pushing past him and entering the hallway as the radio on his chest crackled into life.

  “I think she went to the bus station,” Robert told him.

  “We have to search the house first,” the other officer said.

  “Didn't you hear me?” Robert asked, holding the ankle-monitor up for them to see. “She has her daughter with her! I tried to stop her, but she broke this off and took Lizzie to the bus station in town. I don't know where they're going, but if you don't get there soon, they'll leave! Shes' desperate, she might hurt the child!”

  “Who are you?” the first officer asked.

  “Doctor Robert Slocombe,” he replied, fumbling in his pocket before pulling out his wallet and holding up his university ID badge for them to see. “I had a hunch that Emily would be here, and I was right. I don't know how, but she's got her daughter, the girl who went missing from the care home. She's going to take her away, and she seemed suicidal.”

  The officers glanced at each other, as if they weren't sure whether to believe him.

  “She said it was hopeless,” Robert continued. “She said if they couldn't be together in this life, she'd take Lizzie away and do something to make sure they were together in the next. That's all I know, but please, you have to find her before she hurts her daughter.”

  “How long ago did they leave?” the first officer asked.

  “Just a few minutes ago.”

  “And you're sure they were headed to the bus station?”

  “I'm certain. Please, you have to find them before they get away. I think Emily's planning to do something to both of them.”

  The officer paused for a moment, before turning to his colleague. “We'd better get there fast.”

  “I'm calling back-up,” the other officer said, as they both headed to the door. “This is unit five, we need assistance at Coltreath bus station.”

  “Stay here,” the first officer told Robert, grabbing the ankle-monitor from his hands. “Someone will be here to take a statement from you.”

  “Just find them!” he shouted, hurrying to the door and watching as the officers made their way to their car. Nearby, neighbors had begun to emerge from nearby houses, watching the scene with open-mouthed shock. “Please!” he called out to the departing officers. “You have to find Emily Stone and her daughter before it's too late.”

  As soon as the police car pulled away, he slammed the door shut and hurried back up to the landing, where Emily was still holding Lizzie tight and Douglas was sitting in absolute shock.

  “We have to get moving fast,” Robert told them. “Doug, bring your car around to the back, we don't want the neighbors seeing us leave.”

  “But -”

  “Now!” he shouted.

  As Douglas stumbled to the stairs and hurried down, Robert turned to Emily.

  “It's okay,” he stammered. “I'm going to help you.”

  “You should have let me do it,” she replied bitterly. “It would have been over by now!”

  “There are other ways,” he told her, reaching down to take her hand and help her up. “We need to study whatever's happening to you.”

  “It's more important to end it,” she pointed out, “and then to -” Letting out a gasp of pain as soon as she tried to put any weight on her ankle, she stumbled back and almost fell.

  “I've got you,” Robert replied, grabbing her arm and holding her up. “Can you walk?”

  “I think it's twisted,” she told him, starting to slowly limp forward. “Maybe I can -”

  “You're too slow,” he continued, putting an arm around her waist and then picking her up. “Lizzie, go on ahead and open the back door.”

  As the little girl hurried down the stairs, Robert began to carry Emily after her.

  “You should have left it all alone,” she hissed at him. “Lizzie would have been safe by now. Instead, that thing's going to keep coming after us.”

  “It's okay,” he replied, carrying her down to the hallway and then through to the kitchen. “I'm going to make sure you're both safe.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-four years ago

  “That goddamn, lying, crooked bitch!” he shouted, turning and throwing his empty whiskey glass across the flat until it smashed against the far wall. “I should go back there right now and wring her neck!”

  “Calm down,” Jenna replied, hurrying over to him and grabbing him by the shoulders. “Robert, I'm serious, you need to calm down right now, okay? You're going to hurt yourself if you keep this up!”

  “What the hell do you know?” he asked, pulling away and heading over to the table, where he grabbed another glass and poured himself some more whiskey. “You have no idea how the fuck I feel.” He downed the whiskey in one go and immediately poured another. “It's the kid too, they're as bad as each other. I hope Joyce and Emily Stone rot in hell for all the lies they told.”

  “You don't mean that,” she told him. “You're angry, you -”

  “You bet I'm angry,” he snapped, knocking back another whiskey. “Want some of this?”

  She watched as he refilled his glass, although his hands were shaking slightly and it was clear that he was way past the point where he might be persuaded to slow down.

  “Rob,” she said after a moment, stepping closer, “I understand why you're angry -”

  “They humiliated me,” he muttered, drinking another shot before dropping the glass and picking up the bottle, apparently preferring to drink direct instead. “They let me go public with all of this, they let me put my reputation on the line, and for what? Just so they could pocket some money from the papers? What kind of person thinks like that? What kind of person lives like that?”

  “I guess they were desperate.”

  “That stupid fucking whore -”

  “Hey!”

  He turned to her.

  “Don't say things like that!” she continued. “For God's sake, Rob, I know you're angry, but try to keep hold of yourself, okay? Don't go around calling people whores!”

  “They're both dumb fucks,” he muttered, taking a swig of whiskey. “The mother's a dirty liar, and Emily's an easily-led idiot who -”

  “She's twelve years old, for God's sake!”

  “I knew better when I was twelve,” he continued. “Being twelve doesn't mean you can lie with impunity. She's as bad as her mother. Did you know better? Come on, of course you did! Everyone does!”

  She stared at him for a moment, trying to work out what she could say that might bring him back out of his anger. Finally, she turned and headed to the door.

  “Where are you going?” he asked dourly.

  “Back to my place.”

  “It's late. There are no buses.”

  “I'll walk.”

  “Stay.”

  “You're letting this change you,” she continued, close to tears. “You're feeling so sorry for yourself right now, aren't you?”

  Sighing, he turned and saw that she was already slipping into her coat.

  “Hey,” he said, stumbling toward her with the almost-empty bottle of whiskey in his right hand, “don't go. I'm pissed off, that's all. You can understand why I might be a little peeved, can't you?”

  “This isn't the way t
o show it,” she muttered, buttoning the front of her coat. “Stumbling around, drunk out of your mind, shouting obscenities about a child -”

  “When did you become such a prude?” he asked.

  “You think you're such a big man, don't you?” she continued. “Strutting about, shouting fuck this and bullshit that, and swearing all over the place. If that's how you want to be, fine, but don't expect me to stick around and listen.” She grabbed her bag and turned to open the door. “I'll call you in a few days.”

  “No!” Pushing the door shut, he stepped closer. “Come on, Jenna, don't be like this. Stay tonight.” Reaching out, he put a hand on the side of her face, but she quickly pushed him away. “Come on, baby...”

  “Don't call me baby,” she said firmly. “I don't want to be around you when you're like this.”

  “You have to understand,” he replied. “I was so close to getting proof. I thought I'd finally cracked it! I mean, that's the whole point of the work we do, isn't it? Getting proof?”

  She shook her head.

  “It's not?” he asked. “Then what, I ask you, is the point? Because I've been laboring under the misapprehension that as scientists and academics, we need to find proof so we can present these things to the world.”

  “The point is knowing in here,” she replied, tapping her chest. “Knowing deep down, in your heart, that these kinds of things are real and worth pursuing. You don't need proof for that. Proof is for academic papers and conferences, proof is for other people. Proof comes later. For you, for each of us, we just need to start by knowing in our souls that what we're searching for is really out there. And that hasn't changed. Joyce and Emily Stone can't take that belief away from us.”

  She waited for him to reply.

  “Can it?” she asked finally.

  “I don't know,” he muttered. “There comes a point when you need proof or...” His voice trailed off.

  “Or you don't believe in it anymore?” she replied, with a hint of tears in her eyes. “Are you really going to let this hoax strip you of something so important?”

  “Maybe it's all just bullshit,” he pointed out, slurring his words a little. “Ghosts, spirits, other worlds... Maybe it's all just childish bullshit, and maybe we should grow the fuck up. I mean, if there's been no proof found in all of human history, no real, absolute, certain proof, then maybe that tells us something. Maybe it tells us that there's nothing out there.”

  “There you go again,” she replied, pulling the door open despite his attempt to keep it shut. “Proof is important, but it's not the only thing. You need to believe, too.”

  “Stay,” he muttered, as she hurried out and headed along the hallway. “Hey!” he called after her. “Stay tonight!”

  He waited, until he heard her heading out the door and into the stairwell.

  “Tomorrow, then,” he continued, pushing the door shut and stumbling back across his dimly-lit flat. Swaying, he almost fell sideways a couple of times before reaching the window just in time to see Jenna heading out onto the pavement below and hurrying away.

  He sighed, watching her until she was out of sight.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, taking another swig of whiskey. With the bottle finished, he held it up for a moment and examined the label, before stumbling toward the kitchen. As he reached the middle of the room, however, he turned and threw the bottle, hitting the window and smashing the glass. “Fuck!” he shouted. “Goddamn lying bitches!”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Today

  Pulling into the parking spot just after 4am, Doctor Robert Slocombe turned the engine off and looked back to see that Emily and Lizzie were fast asleep on the back seat, with their arms around one another.

  ***

  “Hey,” Douglas said, catching up to him in the all-night restaurant as they waited for their food to be ready. “Where are they?”

  “Sleeping in the car,” he replied wearily. “I didn't want to wake them, so I left the heating on and bought some extra burgers. I figure they'll be hungry soon.”

  “Did they say much?” Douglas asked.

  He shook his head.

  “And are you sure this is wise, Rob? I mean, you lied to the police, and Emily's effectively on the run. Plus, you have a duty to tell them if Lizzie's -”

  “Keep your voice down,” Robert whispered, as the woman behind the counter brought their orders over, including the Happy Meal he'd ordered for Lizzie. Grabbing his tray, he led Douglas over to a table by the window. “No, I don't know if this is wise. I don't know what the hell I'm doing, all I know is that the police would separate them and then Lizzie would probably go missing again and Emily would end up in a cell or on a psych ward. Whatever's going on, that wouldn't be a happy ending, would it? At least this way, we can help them.”

  “Help them?” Douglas smiled. “In the old days, you'd be more concerned with studying them, not helping them.”

  “That's what I meant,” he replied, biting into his burger. “Same thing,” he added with his mouth full.

  “And how exactly do you propose to help them?”

  “By working out what the hell's going on,” he continued. “I don't know, but it seems reasonable to assume that whatever's after Emily, it won't give up. I think it's also reasonable to assume that it's not tied specifically to the house, so we don't need to be there. We'll get them to the office and then we'll work out what the hell we're going to do next.”

  “And you believe it all?”

  Robert paused.

  “Really?” Douglas added. “Are you back on the team now?”

  “I can't deny what I saw tonight,” he replied. “I know the cameras cut out, but I'm sure we got some kind of reading on the sensors, and I saw it with my own eyes. We both did.”

  “And what exactly was it?” Douglas asked. “Where did Lizzie come from? One moment she's missing and no-one knows where the hell she is, and then she shows up out of nowhere, in her bedroom.”

  “From what Emily said, it sounds like she was taken to some other place and then released again, most likely through that crack or fracture or whatever the hell was in the room. It was like a door to another world.” He paused for a moment. “I saw it, Doug. I saw through it, something was on the other side, I was so close. There was... It was almost as if there was a whole other world through there. I have to find out what it means.”

  “And how much is that worth to you?” Douglas asked. “What are you willing to sacrifice?”

  “For the chance to see what's on the other side?” He paused again. “This scares me a little, but I don't think there's anything I wouldn't give.”

  “Have you asked Lizzie yet?”

  “I haven't had a chance. The poor kid's exhausted. I'm worried about how all of this is going to affect her.”

  “You? Worried about a little girl?” Douglas smiled. “Jesus Christ, it's almost like the old Rob Slocombe has suddenly come back.”

  “Don't get melodramatic,” Robert replied as he finished his burger and grabbed the rest of the food. “Come on, we need to get going. The sooner we can get them back to the office, the sooner we can get started.”

  “And what's the plan?”

  “There's no plan yet, but...” He paused for a moment. “I guess the first thing we need to do is to find out where the hell Lizzie Stone was between leaving the care home and turning up tonight.”

  ***

  “It's okay,” Robert said a few hours later, as he sat opposite Lizzie and Emily, “there's no reason to be scared. I just need you to tell me everything you remember.”

  He waited, but Lizzie simply stared at him.

  “Do you remember anything?” he added. “You were gone for twenty-four hours, Lizzie. Is it all just a blur?”

  After a moment, Lizzie looked up at her mother.

  “Tell him what you remember,” Emily replied, with a faint smile. “It's okay.”

  Turning back to Robert, Lizzie paused for a moment. “The woman came and got me,”
she said finally, her voice faltering a little. “She came to the place I was staying and she grabbed me. She broken the door down and she pulled me into the light and through to the other side.”

  “The other side of what?” he asked, glancing at the heart-rate monitor, which showed a slow but steady increase in Lizzie's pulse.

  “The other side of the...” She paused. “She held onto me. We were high up, on the side of a wall, but the wall wasn't made out of bricks.”

  “What was it made of?” Robert asked.

  She stared at him for a moment. “It looked like... The insides of lots of faces, all sewn together.”

  Robert looked over at Emily, who hugged her daughter tighter.

  “And you were high up?” he asked, turning back to Lizzie.

  She nodded.

  “How high?”

  “A long way. I could see people below, though. They were shouting at us, and some of them were trying to climb up after us, but for some reason they kept falling off. The woman said...” Another pause. “The woman said it had taken her years to climb up so far. She said she didn't know why, but she was a better climber than the others.”

  “What did the people look like?”

  “They didn't have any clothes on. Their skin was gray.”

  “And the woman who was holding you...”

  “She was the same.”

  “What did her face look like?”

  “Not like Loretta Lynn,” Emily said darkly.

  He turned to her.

  “I'm not that stupid,” she added. “Nice try, though.”

  “Her skin was broken,” Lizzie explained, “like it was all dry and there were cracks in it. Some of it was missing, and...” She paused, before reaching up and running a hand over the front of her own face, as if she was feeling the bones beneath her flesh. “It was scary. I could see her skeleton. She held onto me, though. If she hadn't, I'd have fallen.”

  “And that lasted the whole twenty-four hours?” he asked. “Until you came back?”

  “It wasn't that long,” she replied. “It was more like... I don't know, just a few seconds.”