Army of Angels

by Marcus Brown

  “Then test my patience further and you’ll see what I’m truly capable of. Forever is a long time. Your resolve will break soon enough.”

  “I won’t hurt my friend.”

  “Then I’ll send Adam, but it will be so much worse for her. Do you really want that on your conscience?”

  “I’d rather burn in hell than hurt her.”

  Juliet scoffed. “Then you’ve just sealed her fate.”

  “You have me. Isn’t that enough?”

  “Do you really believe I would tolerate your friend sneaking around my house?” Sandra seemed surprised. “Yes, I knew she was here, and that was before Mabel told me.”

  “Leave her alone. She’s only trying to protect me.”

  “A waste of time, Sandra. You’re dead, remember?”

  “I still won’t help you.”

  “As I expected, but I look forward to giving you a ringside seat. Perhaps, I will keep Hilary in the well to keep Adam company? What do you think?”

  “I hate you,” Sandra spat. “David will stop you.”

  Juliet cackled. “Your beloved is long gone and won’t be coming back.”

  “Don’t be so sure. If he knew what you’d done to me, he’d move heaven and earth to help me.”

  Juliet drove the blade into Sandra’s chest. “Silly girl. He used you for his own end.”

  “You lie.”

  “He had no love for you. It was all for Maisie.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Then, why doesn’t he rush in to save you? Did you ever think about that? He doesn’t care, and neither does your God.”

  Juliet climbed to her feet, turned and stormed out of the room.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Hilary regretted her decision to involve Andrew.

  It was a mistake, but what else could she do?

  She knew he didn’t believe her, but he had to be seen to act on what she’d told him.

  If her own husband thought she’d lost her mind, what hope did she have of anybody else taking her seriously?

  The only person that would have believed her couldn’t help.

  Tim had returned earlier that evening to collect his clothes. She knew sending him away was wrong, but at the time, it seemed the right thing to do. Now, she had no choice if she wanted him to remain safe.

  It broke her heart watching him walk out the door, but she had to let him go. She knew they were both in danger and wanted him out of the way at least. She’d never forgive herself if anything happened to him.

  Sandra occupied her thoughts night and day. She had to do something to help her. But what about the little boy that came out of the well? Adam. She couldn’t help but think about him too. Could he truly be the missing boy from the papers?

  Slouching on the sofa in the conservatory, she aimed the remote control at the television and switched it on. News at Eleven had just started and the familiar bongs announcing the headlines rang out.

  “Oh, my God.” She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. A photo of the little boy that had attacked her in the garden filled the screen.

  Pausing it, she examined his face, attempting to convince herself it was someone else, but she was certain it was him. “What has she done to him?”

  She un-paused the screen and continued to watch the broadcast. The police were extremely worried about his well-being and were appealing for witnesses to come forward who may have seen him as he left the grounds of the hospital.

  She watched as his emotional mother and brother both gave statements to the press, begging him to come home, or for anybody holding him captive to release him.

  Her heart broke for them. They looked exhausted. There was a helpline number at the bottom of the screen and for a moment she considered calling it, telling them what she knew. What would be the point? She’d already reported it to Andrew and it had led to nothing. They already thought she was a crank, but now she had to play her cards close to her chest if she hoped to rescue Sandra.

  Sandra had been right all along about the house.

  She sat forward and pulled her laptop from the coffee table and googled Promised Land Lane.

  She discovered a website called LegendorLie.com and clicked it. The page opened with a message from the Administrator stating the site was shut down indefinitely. Dammit, she thought to herself. If only Stephen hadn’t moved away. She wondered if there was any way she would be able to get in contact with him, or Ian for that matter.

  They hadn’t left a forwarding address, so she wouldn’t know where to begin. Thinking about it, they were better off being as far away as possible. Ian’s new job had come at exactly the right time. She closed the website and clicked another link. A fresh page opened, the screen flooded with results.

  She clicked one of the links.

  It was a recent article that detailed the sale of the infamous house on the Lane, bought by a Juliet Oswell from the estate of Dianne Gallagher.

  A brief history of Dianne was included in the report, stating she wished to give the house to the Catholic Church, but her sister had accused her solicitor of allowing Dianne to sign a will whilst not mentally competent.

  The courts had agreed and overturned her last will and testament, leaving her the entire estate.

  A few weeks after the will was overturned, Juliet had purchased the house for a huge sum, much higher than its market value. The house went through an extensive renovation, but the new owner had moved in immediately.

  The newspapers had tried to interview Juliet, wanting her take on the supposed haunted house, but according to the article she had, in no uncertain terms, declined all requests.

  At the bottom of the article was a picture of a good-looking, dark-haired teenager named as Jason Lee. His brother had been murdered at the house, and he’d warned Juliet not to stay there.

  Reading further, the report shared details of the unsolved murder of Ashley Lee and showed a picture of his twin, Adam, sat alongside a pretty woman she assumed was the mother.

  “Shit,” she said, shocked at the face staring back at her from the picture. “It’s definitely him.”

  She had to speak to Jason Lee but didn’t know how to contact him. Scanning the article again, it said he was in his final year at high school. She doubted he attended a private school, so that left only one option, but it would mean waiting outside the school gates in the hope of spotting him.

  Determined to find him, she closed the laptop and switched off the television. She set her alarm for six am and made her way to bed.

  Hilary only managed to get three hours’ sleep when the alarm buzzed her awake. But that was enough–she couldn’t afford to sleep in.

  Her arm was throbbing, and she fought the urge to slide a coat hanger down the plaster cast to scratch the unbearable itch.

  Reaching across to the bedside table, she grabbed two of her painkillers and slugged them down with a mouthful of water. She shuffled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom.

  Tim’s toothbrush was still in the holder and seeing it there made her miss him even more. He was the love of her life and she hated to be without him.

  If things went to plan, she would rescue Sandra, and then Tim would be back home where he belonged.

  Hilary was out of the house by seven am, and, against the surgeon’s advice, she drove slowly to the local school. She parked opposite, securing a good view of the main gates, hoping she would recognize him.

  Parents and children began to descend on the school, but there was no sign of Jason and finally at ten am she told herself he wasn’t coming and drove home.

  The house alarm had been set when she left, but it only beeped once when she opened the door–it only did that when somebody was home.

  “Tim?”

  There was no answer.

  She pushed the door wide open and immediately knew it wasn’t Tim who had been in the house. She could smell the hint of perfume, something with a subtle touch of jasmine.

  Her senses screame
d.

  She tiptoed up the hallway, her heart thumping inside her chest, unsure if whoever had been in the house was still there. Feeling more alert than she had in days, she pushed open the living room doorway, her eyes darting from corner to corner of the spacious room. She was alone. A small part of her hoped Sandra would be there, waiting for her to come home.

  She made her way into the kitchen and looked over at the conservatory. Maybe she was imagining it, and she hadn’t set the alarm, she thought to herself.

  “I’ve been waiting for you, Mrs Baines.”

  Hilary jumped and screamed, not realising there was somebody behind her.

  She whirled around, angry at the intrusion.

  “What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

  “I’ll ask the questions if you don’t mind,” Juliet said. “What were you doing in my garden a few nights ago?”

  “I was looking for my friend, as you well know.”

  “And did you find what you were looking for?”

  Hilary ignored the question. “What have you done to her?”

  “She stuck her nose into family business and got nothing she didn’t deserve.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “Where she’s always been of course.”

  “I want her back.”

  “Well you see, that’s not entirely possible. The dead can’t come back to life. Surely a woman of your…” she paused, “…limited intelligence knows enough about anatomy to understand that.” A wicked grin stretched across her lips.

  “What are you babbling about? No, she's not dead. I talked to her.”

  “I’m afraid you’re very much mistaken. I murdered your friend and ripped her heart out. I was curious how much pain she would feel, and my, my, my, did she make a fuss.”

  “Stop it.”

  “She cried just like a little girl. Reminded me of my dear sweet niece, Maisie, come to think of it.” Juliet giggled.

  “You’re lying.” Hilary could feel the panic rising inside her. “Sandra’s not dead. I’d sense it if she was.”

  “I’ve got no reason to lie to you. Why would I?”

  Hilary couldn’t halt the tears. “I want to see her.”

  “But, my dear, you’ve already have seen her, and deep down you knew she was dead, didn’t you?”

  “No, no, no, she can’t be,” Hilary sobbed. “Why? She did nothing to you.”

  “My sister is still burning in the fires of hell because of her.”

  “You’re mad. What are you talking about?”

  “Maisie was to be her redemption. She was so close to finishing what we started so long ago. That was until your interfering friend got in the way. I should have returned long before then and put a stop to Sandra Miller before she had chance to interfere with my sister’s plans.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “The little girl you watched climb out of the well. Don’t deny what you witnessed that night because I know you’re lying. She was the one and when she rose to power and finally broke the shackles that bound her to the lane, my sister Samantha would have been forgiven.”

  “I’ve read all about your house and the only Samantha it mentions died over a hundred years ago.”

  “Slain by her own husband for trying to protect her son. And for failing our master, she would burn in hell for eternity.”

  “You’re crazy. I don’t believe any of this.”

  “I had a feeling you wouldn’t believe me, so I left you a little gift, just there.” She pointed to a small box on the table. “But before I go, let me offer you one final warning.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Stay away from my house.”

  “Or what?” she asked, sounding braver than she felt.

  “If you ignore my warning, I’ll force your friend to cut your throat and then…” Juliet looked at the wedding picture on the mantelpiece. “… I’ll send her for your husband.”

  “Leave Tim out of it.”

  “I will do, as long as we understand one another?”

  “Sandra wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “Are you willing to put that to the test?” Juliet walked towards the conservatory doors. “If you don’t value your own safety, think about his.” She gestured towards the smiling man in the wedding picture. “He’s very handsome and would make a dazzling addition to my collection.”

  Hilary was furious and wanted to punch her but knew she wouldn’t stand a chance against her.

  “Do we have an agreement? You stay out of my business and you’ll never see me again.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  Juliet stepped closer to Hilary. The smell of jasmine wafted under her nose. “If you think this is an idle threat, look inside the box on your dining table. Once you’ve seen the gift, you’ll soon come over to my way of thinking.” She swept out of the rear doors and vanished out of sight.

  It took a few minutes for Hilary to calm down.

  Her nerves were frazzled, and she was furious the woman had been inside her house, touching her possessions and making threats towards her husband. She hurried over to the rear doors and slammed them closed.

  Hilary approached the dining table gingerly. It was only a little box she told herself. What could possibly be in there that would scare her or stop her from trying to rescue Sandra?

  She pulled out a chair and took a seat at the table. The little box was made of rowan wood. She knew because her mother had one similar. Pulling the box closer to her, she closed her eyes and counted to ten. Opening the lid a touch, her nerves kicked in and she slammed it shut.

  “Open the damn box,” she said, chastising herself for being a coward.

  Hilary shut her eyes once again and opened the box.

  On the count of three, she told herself. One, two, three, go!

  She opened her eyes and screamed in horror.

  Scurrying backwards from the table, the chair tipped, sending her sprawling to the floor.

  She staggered to her feet, trembling from head to toe.

  Tears cascaded down her cheeks, but as hard as she tried, she couldn’t pull her focus from Sandra’s eyes, staring back at her from the box.

  Chapter Twenty

  Hilary gagged and turned away.

  She had to get out of there.

  Grabbing the car keys from the cabinet, she flew out of the house in panic, leaving the gruesome gift behind. The image of Sandra’s eyes staring back at her burned into her mind.

  She raced off, the tires squealing.

  Minutes later she pulled up outside of St. Jude’s Church. Driving round the back, she parked and rushed into the church, hurrying down the aisle.

  “What am I doing here?” she whispered, suddenly nervous she was alone. Candles provided dim lights, which heightened her fear.

  It had been a long time since she’d stepped foot in her childhood church, but it was the only place she could think of where she would be safe. Looking around, the religious iconography still scared her, but she needed guidance, and this church was the only place she felt she could get it.

  Sinking to her knees in front of the statue of Christ, she sobbed, “Heavenly Father. If you can hear me, I don’t know where to turn and need you now, more than ever. I was taught not to believe in the Devil, but something evil has taken my friend. Please, I’ll do anything, just help me.”

  Suddenly, the fog that had clouded her mind for so long lifted, and for the first time, Hilary admitted the truth to herself–Sandra was dead.

  Her whole body shook, the physical pain and heartbreak of losing the woman she’d thought of as her sister was too much.

  “Oh, God. Please help her.” Hilary couldn’t stand to think of her friend in pain.

  Of course, God didn’t answer.

  She sat on the cold, tiled floor with her back to the altar.

  She had walked down the aisle on her wedding day, Sandra mere steps behind her. That was the happiest day of her life, and now on
the saddest of days, she found herself back there, bereft, not knowing what to do, when suddenly, pearl coloured orbs dropped slowly from the vaulted ceilings, illuminating the church beautifully.

  Hilary staggered to her feet as the orbs danced in mid-air.

  She rubbed her eyes, convinced she was hallucinating, but out from the glow of the orbs, stepped a man.

  He stepped toward her, but his face was obscured by the light that surrounded him. With the light came a warm feeling she had never experienced before and for the first time in months, she felt serene and an overwhelming sense of love wash over her.

  He stood in front of her. The orbs dimmed and faded away, his features becoming clearer.

  “It’s you,” Hilary said, shocked he was there.

  “I’m not meant to interfere,” David Price replied, serenely. “But I had to come.”

  “How are you here? I don’t understand.”

  “I’ve been watching you. I couldn’t bear to see you so alone.”

  “You have to help me.”

  “I’ll do everything within my power, but it won’t be easy. Juliet fooled us all. Nobody expected her to be as powerful as she is, and now she’s close to finishing what Samantha started all those years ago.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “We have to stop her.”

  “How?” Hilary looked at him and could see the sorrow in his face.

  “I believed Sandra was safe. If I’d known, I never would have left her.”

  Hilary couldn’t stand his wallowing in self-pity. “That’s right. Stand there and feel sorry for yourself, but remember, this is entirely your fault.” She didn’t mean a word of it and was lashing out in hurt and anger. “If you’d sent her away at the start of all this, she’d still be alive.”

  “And I’ll never forgive myself for that, but the woman you’re dealing with is far more powerful than Maisie, or Samantha ever was.”

  “There must be a way to stop her. Sandra’s stuck in that terrible place.”

  “I can’t return to the lane. It’s forbidden.”

  “Forbidden by who? God?” She looked up. “If you are listening,” she shouted to the skies, “then screw you.”