“I don’t think any of us understands much,” Adeline said. “We’re just doing the best we can. And I want you to know that if things go wrong at the old house, Holly has promised she’ll leave with you without argument, right Holly?”
Holly nodded without enthusiasm.
“Good.” Delilah hugged herself, rubbing her arms. “I don’t know why I’m so cold.”
“You’ve had a shock,” Adeline said.
“Well, I’d best get over it.” Delilah sat down as Frieda brought a tea tray and placed it on the coffee table between them and poured. Delilah wrapped her hands around her teacup. “So, Holly, did you learn anything useful this afternoon?”
“Yes.” She stared at her tea.
“Holly, give your grandmother a demonstration like we talked about,” Addie said.
Still looking into her cup, Holly nodded.
Delilah rose and crossed to the tall windows - it was suddenly stifling hot. She cranked one window open and stood there, enjoying the rain-spattered wind blowing in her face.
“Gram,” Holly joined her at the window, began cranking it closed.
Delilah looked at her granddaughter. “Whatever was I thinking? I must’ve lost my mind, opening a window in this weather!”
“No, Gram. I’m sorry. It was me.”
“What are you talking about? I opened-” Delilah silenced, seeing the gold swirling through Holly’s blue eyes.
Holly took her hand and led her back to the coffee table. They sat. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t want to, but-”
Adeline sipped tea. “I asked Holly to suggest to you to open a window.”
Delilah looked flustered. “I didn’t hear anything. I was just so hot all of a sudden.”
“Because I told you that. It’s telepathy or something.” Holly looked guilty. “It’s like what I did to those waiters in the restaurant - I told them they needed to not look at us. That’s all. Gram, I wouldn’t do that to you, but you asked what I could do.” She paused. “I can do other stuff sometimes, if I’m mad enough. I cracked the mirror in my room a little. I didn’t mean to-”
“Holly is incredibly powerful,” Adeline explained. “We only practiced a little today and she’s already learned so much about control.”
“I’m very impressed, sweetheart, and I’m not angry.” Delilah squeezed her hand.
“You are?” Holly asked. “Impressed, I mean?”
“Yes, I am.” Delilah sat forward and took Holly’s other hand. “Sweetheart, now I understand that you could make me let you go to that old house with the others - but you haven’t done that.” A single tear rolled down her cheek as she smiled.
“I almost did. I’m sorry!”
“No, Holly. I’m proud of you. Don’t you see? You have more than a gift. You have honor. I’m so glad that you’re my girl. My granddaughter. My daughter. I love you.”
Holly stood and hugged Delilah as hard as she could. “Really? Really truly?”
“Really truly.” Delilah hugged her back.
Adeline cleared her throat. “All Holly really needs now is a little more confidence, and I think you’re giving her that, Dee.”
Holly wiped her eyes and sat back down.
“You should have all the confidence in the world, sweetheart,” Delilah said.
“She should,” Adeline agreed. “Holly, you can’t let your fears influence you. If Henry Hank or Pearl come again, your defense is your own power and confidence. That’s all you really need and you have that. You just need to remember it.”
Holly nodded then looked to Delilah. “So, can I go to the old house with Adeline?”
“No, I’m sorry.”
“Listen to your grandmother, Holly,” Addie said. “You have a lot left to learn and you're too young to risk your life. Do whatever she tells you. Don’t question it. And remember, we don’t know where Henry Hank and Pearl are, so you need to protect your grandmother every bit as much as she needs to protect you.” Adeline looked grim. “Things may get crazy once we go to the house.”
“I understand.” As she spoke, gold shot through Holly’s eyes again and Delilah knew Addie spoke the truth. They needed to take care of one another.
Although Arthur Meeks couldn’t stand Piggy Moran, there was one thing about her he had to admit he liked: her great big rack. He never went out of his way to ogle the crotchety old bitch, but when he was bored and there was no eye candy around, he liked to fuck her between the tits with his eyes. It felt good, like a long-distance sexual assault that no one could ever prove. Wiping down the luggage rack several feet from the desk, he eyeballed her, chuckling as he fantasized about slapping her gigantic spiggoty tits with old Methuselah.
His laughter came out louder than he’d anticipated and Peg looked up, a challenge in her eyes that Arthur could not accept. He looked away and continued whistling and wiping and wishing he had the nerve to walk right over and sock her in those big, fat, middle-aged tits, maybe give ‘em a couple Indian burns. That’d give her something to scowl about.
Just as another chuckle threatened to erupt, the front doors flew open and Steve Cross, along with that little shit relative of his, burst into the lobby, dripping wet. They headed straight for Pig Moran, spoke a few words, then the big-titted desk clerk made a phone call. One subtle motion at a time, Arthur moved himself closer, trying to find out what was going on. His interest was really piqued when, moments later, Steve and the kid were joined by the druggist, the Injun, and that old fuck from the Humble station, Ike Chance. Arthur suppressed serious laughter now, looking at the motley crew: with the ponytailed pretty boy, Steve Cross, and the mamacita, Piggy, the only things missing were a gypsy and a Jew.
Arthur Meeks edged ever-closer to the group.
“I want to go downstairs with Addie,” Holly insisted as soon as Delilah ended the call from Peg Moran.
“Holly,” Delilah began.
“Please?”
Delilah looked at Adeline Chance. Addie gave her a little nod. “Wouldn’t it be all right for her to see us off, Dee?”
“I suppose,” said Delilah. “We’ll both come down with you.”
By now, Arthur Meeks was close enough to hear snippets of conversation - but not enough for it to make sense. The group in the lobby had been joined by Queen Douchebag, Little Miss Fancy Pants, and the old gas station fuck’s wife.
Curiosity brimming, Arthur strained to make out what they were saying.
“... got the gas cans in the back of the truck …” That was Steve Cross.
“… filled ‘em myself,” said Old Fuck.
“I grabbed a bunch of flashlights,” added the kid.
“And I’ve got my eyes,” said Old Fuck’s wife.
What in creation are they talking about? If he didn’t know better, Arthur would’ve guessed they were going to a Klan meeting.
“When will you be back?” the Queen Douchebag asked. She had her hand clamped on Fancy Pants’ shoulder.
“As soon as we take care of Henry Hank,” the Injun said.
“Gram?” asked Fancy Pants. “Are you sure I can’t go-”
“No, Holly, we’re staying here. Together.”
The little slut shut her mouth.
“We’d better get a move on,” said Steve.
Old Lady Fuck joined the men and her husband asked, “You’re sure about this, Addie?”
‘I am.” She turned and smiled at Delilah and the little slut. “We’ll be back before you know it.”
“We’ll be waiting,” said Her Majesty. “Good luck.”
“Be careful,” Fancy Pants added. “Really careful.”
Arthur stayed a few steps behind Delilah and Fancy Pants as they followed the others to the lobby doors and watched them pile into the pickup and the Mustang. Sunset was still a couple hours off, but the clouds were like pitch except when lightning lit them from within. Thunder rumbled somewhere behind the hotel, combining with the sound of the engines. Headlights lit the steady rain and the vehicles
pulled out and turned back in the direction of town.
“Come, Holly,” said the Queen. “We’ll wait upstairs.”
As the pair turned, Arthur slipped around a display of postcards and peered out the glass doors. He saw brake lights maybe fifty yards down the road as the vehicles pulled to a stop. The lights went off. They’d parked. What the… The rain lulled and he heard car doors slamming. It was too dark to see much, but he was pretty sure a couple of them were pulling things from the truck bed. Crazy loons.
“They’re just taking care of a little business. Nothing to be concerned about.”
Arthur, all ears, turned at the sound of the Queen Douchebag’s voice. She was talking to Piggy Big Boobs, basically telling her that whatever was going on was none of her beeswax. Cunty old douchebag! His eyes fell on Fancy Pants and traveled up and down that little body. There were no titties under the pink t-shirt yet, just those tantalizing little buds that meant she was on the verge of losing her childish appeal. But she sure hasn’t lost it yet, nosireebob. Not by a mile.
He moved swiftly back to the luggage racks and by the time Her Royal Highness and the slut-girl started up the stairs, he was polishing the brass with a vengeance. He counted to ten, then followed, careful to stay hidden behind each landing turn.
At the fourth floor, Fancy Pants spoke, “I’d like to go to my room for a while. Is that okay?”
The Queen Douchebag replied, “Let’s go to the penthouse first. Frieda will have dinner ready in just a few minutes.”
“But-”
Arthur’s heart sank.
“You can come back down after dinner, Holly.”
His frown turning upside down, Arthur listened as the two went on to the fifth floor, then trotted to his room and shut the door. You’re not going to have a very good night, Little Miss Fancy Pants. But I am. I’m going to have the greatest night of my life!
51
In the Brimstone Grand
Peg Moran began shivering five minutes after Miss Delilah and Holly went upstairs. She didn’t know why, but she was sorry she’d agreed to stand in for Steve while he did whatever it was he had to do. She hoped he’d be back soon.
She felt as if something unseen were looming over her, watching her - and waiting - though what it might be waiting for, she hadn’t a clue. But the entire lobby felt heavy, cold, and … pregnant. Yes, pregnant with something dark waiting to be born.
Peg stood behind the main desk, unable to motivate herself to do anything but wait. Wait for what? She didn’t know. Mumbling a quick prayer of protection, she crossed herself, ignoring the cold of the lobby. And the air was getting colder, she was sure of that much. Colder and … thicker. Heavier.
What’s gotten into me? She tried telling herself it was her imagination - she’d always had such a vivid one, and it had often caused her grief when she was young - but tonight she couldn’t convince herself it was all in her mind. She thought of Meredith Granger, of her death. And how that had resulted in her promotion to day manager. Dear God, bless Meredith and her family, wherever they may be.
She wondered if Steve ever noticed the cold at night.
And she wondered about Arthur Meeks, too. He’d been eavesdropping and had disappeared when the others left the lobby, and she wouldn’t be surprised if he were up to no good. She didn’t like to admit it, but the man made her nervous with his beady little eyes and rubber lips. The way he stared … She never let him see how much he bothered her. Tonight, he frightened her, but she didn’t know why. Peg shook off the thoughts, determined not to let her imagination get the better of her. And that’s all it is: my overactive imagina-
DING!
Peggy jumped at the sound the elevator doors. They slid open and Peg watched, waiting for someone to emerge.
No one did.
Peg swallowed. “H-hello?” she called, her voice was weak and strained.
Only silence answered.
And then the ring of the switchboard. She gasped.
Room 329. Someone was calling from room 329. And 329 was empty.
She answered. “Hello?”
Static sounded.
“Hello? Who’s there?” She remembered Meredith telling her about phantom calls from that room. Peg wondered if Steve had experienced it, too.
“Hello?”
Still nothing but a soft gray electric hum. Peg hung up and crossed herself.
Outside, lightning flashed and thunder grumbled. Peg’s heart was a terrified little rabbit trying to escape its cage. The unnatural cold pressed hard against her. She felt an overwhelming need to get out. Now.
The guests are all in. I’ll call Miss Delilah, tell her I have a family emergency and need to leave. She hated to lie, especially to Delilah, but when the elevator door dinged again, and once more, no one stepped out, Peggy picked up the phone and dialed the penthouse.
As soon as they’d arrived at Delilah’s apartment, Frieda served Denver omelets and tea at the kitchen table. Holly hadn’t even seen the kitchen until tonight, but it was instantly her favorite room, homey and friendly.
They ate quickly and in no time, were back in the living room, Delilah standing at the window with binoculars trained on the parked cars just down the road.
“Can you see anything?”
“Just the cars. They must be hiking down to the house.” She handed the spy glasses to Holly.
“I’m glad the rain let up a little.” As much as Holly wanted to be with the others, she was relieved to be here, safe with Gram. She peered at the cars.
“I’m glad, too, sweetheart. Addie, Ike, and Ben are too old to be hiking in this weather. I hope none of them breaks a hip.”
“For sure!”
The phone rang. “Excuse me a moment.”
Holly set the glasses down as Delilah hung up. Her grandmother smiled, though she didn’t look very happy. “Peg had a family emergency. How would you like to go downstairs and help me man the lobby? We’ll turn off the vacancy sign, but we ought to keep the doors open until nine in case any guests need to run out tonight.”
“Yes! I’d love to! Everybody should be back from the house by then, too.”
Delilah smiled. “Yes, they should.”
52
The Old Dark House
There was something wrong with the house - something more than the eye could detect. The walls rose like normal walls, meeting the ceiling as squarely as any other room Adeline had been in before, yet there was something different about this place, something wrong. Even the shadows here were too dark, too thick.
She stood in the living room, searching that dense darkness, flanked by Ike, Ben, Abner, and Steve. Young Eddie, despite his protests, had been given guard duty and waited outside.
“Do you sense anything in here?” asked Ike.
Adeline nodded. Yes, she sensed something. A lot of something. Where could she even begin? “This is a terrible place. Terrible.”
“Yes,” Abner Hala agreed. “A very bad place.”
Adeline played her flashlight over the center staircase, half expecting something to leap out at her, but nothing did; the shadows kept their secrets to themselves, and the house seemed to hold its breath, biding its time.
Something insubstantial passed by Adeline, something not quite human, at least not anymore. A rush of chilled, thick air. A frail presence, invisible. She glanced at the others. No one else had noticed, so Adeline said nothing. She turned, her flashlight cutting through the near darkness, and found a hallway to her right. Darkened rooms and debris lay beyond.
“We need to find the kitchen,” she said. “That’s where the cellar door will be.”
“This way,” said Abner, picking up a gas can. Adeline and the others followed, carrying more cans and sledgehammers.
“Ike,” said Adeline, “hand me one of the sledges.”
Ike did, and Adeline followed Abner up the hall, one hand clutched around the handle, the other around her flashlight. She shone her beam straight ahead, unnerved by the il
lusion of movement as they walked; it was as if the walls were breathing, the shadows crouching, preparing to pounce, but the looming ghosts were too faint to see. Shaking off the dark thoughts, she kept moving, aware that the hall was warming. Stifling, in fact. And it seemed to stretch on for an eternity before they came to the kitchen.
This room, too, was draped in shadows blacker than any Adeline had ever seen. Unlike the hall, it was chilly, and became colder as they moved further inside.
“Jesus,” Steve Cross whispered behind her.
Adeline sliced her light around, saw nothing but broken tile and an old sink.
“There,” said Ike, shining his on the cellar door at the far end of the room.
Abner approached. “It’s padlocked to hell and back.”
“Good thing we brought sledgehammers,” Steve said.
“Well, Steve,” said Abner. “Let’s get to work.”
53
The Escape
There was no family emergency at Peg’s. The instant she and Delilah stepped into the lobby, Holly knew that for a fact.
“Peggy must have left the air conditioner on.” Delilah rubbed her arms. “It’s positively freezing in here. I’ll turn it off.” She marched purposefully to the copper door.
“No! Don’t open that!” Holly yelled.
Surprised, Delilah whirled. “What?”
Holly took a deep breath. “Don’t open that door, Gram. It’s not the air conditioner.”
“What is it, then?”
“Please, come back over here and I’ll tell you.”
At that instant, the elevator dinged and the door opened on blackness. Delilah stared. “The light burned out. I’d better call Meeks to bring a new bulb-”
“No!” Holly ran to Delilah and grabbed her hand as the black cloud oozed out of the cab, so cold it frosted Holly’s breath. “Come away from there, Gram! Get away from the door!” She yanked her arm.
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