Autumn Falls

by A. R. Kingston

  "What?"

  "Everyone dies here. That's why she brings us to the island, so we can provide her with blood, and then there are those like you, those whose souls keep the beast at bay."

  "That must be the pain talking dear," Charlotte forced a smile despite the hairs standing up on the back of her neck and the gooseflesh forming on her arms, "let me give you shot, and you will forget any of this ever happened."

  "But I have no pain, Miss. Charlotte. Clarence made sure there wouldn't be any when he laid claim to my soul. He always makes sure the innocent here don't suffer, and saves as many souls as he can from the soul eaters. He's the one trying to save you from the witch who brought you here, and he wants to save Mr. Campbell too. He is in grave danger you know."

  "Who? Zack?"

  "Yes. He shouldn’t be here. He was never meant to be here, and he is the key to breaking the spell. She wants to kill him before the Feast of Shadows. You must leave this island, all of you, before it's too late."

  Taking hold of Charlotte's hand, the girl took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The little hand she was holding on with grew limp and fell to the ground. The child was no longer breathing. Shocked, Charlotte realized what happened and began to perform CPR, but as she looked up, she saw the girl standing across from her, holding her father's hand before they both faded from view. Falling backward with shaking hands, she began to cry as the reality set in. The child was dead, and she had warned her to not stay in Autumn Falls, or she too would meet a similar fate, along with Zack, and Kevin.

  "Char, you okay?" Charles ran up to her and knelt by the child. "I got the defibrillator; we can still save her."

  "No, we can't Chuck. She's dead, I just saw her ghost."

  "Her ghost," he came over and put his hand around her, "how can that be?"

  "I don't know, but before she died, she told me that no one gets to live around here."

  "Come again?"

  "She said that everyone dies here."

  "She was probably delusional from the blood loss, surely not everyone dies."

  "But what if they do? I mean, have you seen any of the people we transported alive around the island? Have we even checked up on them?"

  "Would you like me to? Would that make you feel better?"

  "Yes, and if she was right, maybe it will tell us more about this place."

  "All right, I will have Iris investigate it tonight." Charles offered her a hand up and she took it. "Why don't you go take a breather and let me call this in. We can load them up and transport them when you're ready."

  Agreeing with Chuck, Charlotte went to sit on the curb while he went to deal with the hospital staff for the second time. Her stomach twisted and churned painfully. A dreadful feeling that the girl was telling her the truth gnawed at her, and she was overwhelmed with worry for Kevin and Zack. She had left them alone, unprepared for the dangers lurking on the island, and she regretted not asking Zack to leave sooner. She knew something was out to hurt him; she felt it for days, and now her worst fears were confirmed. The urge to leave suffocated her. It was impossible to get a breath in, but she knew she’d have to wait until her shift was over before she could make her move. Feeling her arm hairs stand up, she turned and saw the pigman standing in the distance. It gave her a nod of its head as if reading her thoughts again, and instantly she was at peace. Her family was safe, at least for the time being, the creature would make sure of it.

  Chapter Forty

  “I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”—Frank Herbert, Dune

  T hat night Charlotte told Zack everything, from the way the island wanted her, to the way a dying child confirmed her fears of all of them being in danger. Much to her dismay though, he insisted on staying on the island just a little longer, so he could finish compiling his research. It was irrational to want to leave; she needed at least two weeks to let the station house know, but something deep down inside warned her that the time to leave was growing increasingly shorter. Going to bed that night, she listened to a mournful bell tolling somewhere in the distance. What it signaled, she did not yet know, but it was bad, and this Feast of Shadows was almost upon them.

  Sleeping curled up in bed, a loud noise coming from the attic startled Charlotte awake. Amongst the rustling and the banging, she heard guttural moans and snarls, along with something raking across the floor. The thing that had been watching them the last few nights was upstairs, and it was tearing the place apart in search of something. Hearing muffled footsteps in the hall, she turned over and looked into the darkness of the doorway where to her shock she found a man standing in the jamb, looking straight at them. He was not an islander, at least, not anymore as he wore an old British naval uniform. The man continued to look at her with a blank stare, pointing his finger up to the ruckus coming from above their heads.

  "Zack," she reached over and shook his shoulder, not daring to break her gaze from the stranger, "wake up."

  "What?" Zack mumbled groggily while stirring beside her. "What's wrong, babe?"

  "There is a man standing in our door, and someone is rummaging in the attic."

  Bolting up in bed, Zack grabbed hold of her, and they both looked at the officer in the hallway while holding their breath. Harsh, stale air stung Charlotte's lungs as the man tilted his head to the ceiling. From the attic, something let out a shriek which bounced off the walls and pierced her to the marrow. An icy chill ran down her arms and the hairs stood up as she listed to something big hit a wall, and then the scampering of footsteps rushing for the stairs. The man in the doorway turned and motioned for her to follow as he glided towards the last room at the end of the hallway.

  "Kevin."

  The air finally escaped her lungs. Jumping out of bed, she dashed after the stranger with Zack close behind her. To her surprise, the officer did not go far. He stood outside the boy's room and pointed his fingers at the door. Her heart raced as she wondered what this man wanted, or if he was even friendly. Standing with Zack behind her, she reached to open the door, stopping when a clatter came from somewhere behind her. Something was trying to open the attic door. A pause, then another bang and the splintering of wood. The door to Kevin's room suddenly opened on its own, silently swinging in inward. The British officer walked around them and drew his sword.

  "Get in." He commanded. "Now."

  Hearing another long crash and the upstairs door shattering, Charlotte grabbed hold of Zack's arm and pulled him inside. Slamming the door shut, she turned the lock and pressed her ear to the wood. At first, there was nothing. The house on the other side was still with only the hum of the radiator to break the silence. Then came something that made her blood run cold and her heart to leap into her throat, the ear-piercing yowl of a large animal. It sounded sickly, or injured, like a creature who no longer had anything to lose. Holding her breath, she pressed even closer to see what would happen next and caught the sound of metal hitting metal, followed by a tumultuous scuffle. The battle continued to rage for a few minutes with wood splintering, pained screeching, and pictures falling off the wall, when suddenly, it stopped.

  Backing away from the door, she waited with her heart throbbing in her throat. From the other side, whimpering and snarling drifted into the room, until suddenly, the doorknob moved. Twisting slowly at first, then jingling harder, until it was being rattled and pulled as if the thing on the other side was trying to take the door from its hinges. Unable to get in, the creature on the other side bellowed and slammed against the door, shaking it in the frame and clawed at the wood. The door continued to bend and bulge, and Charlotte feared it would give way at any moment. Zack called her name out beside her and she turned to him, motioning for her to move out of the way. She stepped back as she was told, and he slid a dresser over to
keep the door secure.

  Knowing this barricade would do little if the creature shredded the wood, she backed up and sat on the bottom bunk of the bed. Staring at the only thing standing between them and the monster in the hallway, she began to sob. Sitting down beside her, Zack put his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, shaking while the wood continued to shatter and crack. She thought they were going to die for sure when the banging stopped and the creature in the hall snarled, screeched, and vanished as there was no more struggle coming from the other side. They waited, holding each other until they were sure it had gone, and when they felt safe, they finally went to sleep.

  Chapter Forty-One

  “Do not be afraid; our fate cannot be taken from us; it is a gift.”—Dante Alighieri, Inferno

  C harlotte woke up to the wind whispering through the trees outside. Opening her eyes, she noted the world beyond the window was lifeless and gray. A storm was approaching. The stark bleakness outside reminded her of the night before, and she cringed as she rolled over to steal a glance at the door. The lacquered mahogany slab, with the white-washed dresser pushed up against it, spit down the middle from where the creature almost made its way in. The gaping wound in the wood spit splinters out onto the rug beyond, and she could almost see into the hallway. Hearing something stirring in the room with her, she froze in fear until her son's voice caused her to let out a soft gasp.

  "Mom? Dad?" She glanced up at Kevin leaning over the bunk railing, looking at them. "What are you two doing in my room? And why is there a dresser in front of my door?"

  "Sorry." She mumbled sleepily. "Some scary things went down last night, and we slept here to keep an eye on you?"

  "Scary things? Oh, man, what did I miss?"

  "Not much bud." Zack sat up and stretched. "Just some creepy noises and stuff, nothing to worry about."

  "Well, if that's the case," the boy hopped off the top bunk, "wake me up next time, I want to see. And can you free up my door? I really have to pee."

  "Sure thing, wait here with your mom while I go make sure it's safe."

  Getting up from the bed, Zack plodded to the door, leaning over to peer into the crack. Breathing slowly, Charlotte watched him as he pulled away from the door and pushed the dresser aside, slowly opening it barely enough to stick his head out and glance into the hall. All she could hear was her heart hammering in her chest as she waited for something to pounce on him, but it never did. The creature was gone. Pulling his head back into the room, Zack looked over at her and Kevin, nodding his head and leaving the door open.

  "Seems like the coast is clear. Go on, Kev."

  Kevin, who was dancing in place beside Charlotte dashed for the door, fling it open and let out a high-pitched yelp. The boy stood in place, trembling, and Charlotte got out of bed to see what had her son paralyzed. Strolling over to him, she placed a hand on his shoulder and opened the door all the way to reveal a message left for them which made every bone in her body shudder. There, scratched into the wood, was a single word, but its warning came as no surprise, even if it was now staring at her from a door and not simply reverberating in her head.

  Beware

  "What is that?" Kevin stood in the doorway shaking, pointing to the letters gouged in the shiny surface. "Was that written for... us?"

  "I don't know." Charlotte rubbed his back and put on her best smile. "Go use the bathroom, love. Your dad and I will figure it out in the meantime." Watching the boy run into the room next door, she turned to Zack who was still staring at the message, and wrapped her hands around his waist, pressing her head into his back. "What are we going to do now?"

  "I haven't figured that out yet, but I want you to call your mom and get Kevin off this damned island today."

  "I... I can't do that."

  "Why not?" Zack turned around, shouting. "Why do you want to keep putting our son in danger?"

  "I don't. But he won't leave unless we do. I know him. God knows I tried to get him to go stay with my mom for a while now, ever since I left Bret, actually."

  "Damn it. He gets his stubbornness from your side of the family, you know."

  "I suppose there were worst traits he could have inherited."

  "All right, fine. If he won't leave alone, then we will all leave this cursed place, together, today."

  "That's crazy, Zack. What about my job? What about your research?"

  "I don't care about your job, or my research. I care about you, and Kevin, and this thing is after the both of you, so we are getting out of this place right now. I know this is sudden, and I realize I'm rushing things, so you can go stay with your mom instead of coming with me to New York. I don't care either way, but I am not putting you or Kevin in any more danger."

  "Okay, we'll leave today, and Kevin and I will go with you like I promised we would. Although," she glanced over her shoulder at the wind howling in the trees and stripping the branches of leaves, "shouldn't we at least tell someone we're leaving?"

  "Fine, you can make that phone call now, go inform your partner or something. I'm going to go get us packed."

  "What's going on mom?" Kevin walked up to the door glancing between the two of them. "Why are you guys talking about packing?"

  "Oh, we are just going to stay with your dad in New York, give this whole family thing a try."

  "Okay, that's a bit sudden." The boy bit his lip and shifted his weight. "When do you plan to leave?"

  "As soon as possible." Zack replied. "Go pack your stuff, both of you."

  Watching Zack run for his room, Charlotte shrugged at Kevin and told him to go pack his bag while she grabbed hers. Fortunately for her, she owned little, and she quickly transferred her limited wardrobe from the drawers of the dresser into her suitcase. Stealing a glimpse at the clock by her bed, she noted it was almost seven o'clock. The station would expect her to show up to work in an hour.

  Deciding she would call in sick before letting Charles know what she was up to, she picked up the phone and gulped. The line was dead. Only thing greeting her from the receiver was the hissing of static somewhere in the distance. Placing the phone back in the cradle, she picked up her cell phone, and found that she suddenly had no bars, all means of communication had been cut off. Collapsing onto the bed, she listened to the trees creaking outside with the blustery gale, and realized escape would not be so easy.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  “There are things known and there are things unknown, and in between are the doors of perception.” —Aldous Huxley

  S he had no idea how long she sat on her bed, looking at the wind-swept landscape beyond her large picture window when a rapping on the downstairs door made her jump up to her feet. Listening closely with a raspy breath, she heard the knock again, louder, more determined this time. Concern welled up inside her. Perhaps someone had figured out what they were up to and came to stop them. Her heart pounded erratically in her chest even as she forced her feet to move forward, rushing down the stairs for the front door. Peering through the squares of lead-glass at the top, she heaved out a sigh; it was only Charles and Iris standing on the stoop, getting misted by the drizzle and battered by the wind. Flinging open the door, she ushered them inside and motioned for them to sit down on the sofa.

  "You caught us just in time, guys. We are leaving on the next ferry to head to New York. We've had enough of this forsaken place."

  "No, Char, you're not." Chuck muttered and hung his head between his knees. "None of us are. Seems like we're stuck here."

  "What... what do you mean?"

  "The ferry terminal..." Iris's voice broke with the tears forming in her eyes, "it's gone."

  "What do you mean gone?" Zack barged into the room. "How is that possible?"

  "I don't know, man." Charles looked up, shaking his head. "All I can tell you is that Iris and I went to buy tickets ourselves for this afternoon and the damned place was gone. Seems to have vanished overnight, as if it was never even there."

  "That's right, then we tried to
call you, but all the phone lines are dead, and our cell phones have no signal."

  "Yes, I tried calling the station, and you, but I found the same thing."

  "No." Zack pulled out his phone for the first time. "No, it can't be. Damn it! We're trapped here like rats."

  "Relax pretty boy, there is more than one way off this island. I was going to go find us a boat, but we needed to talk to you guys first and warn you. Iris found something unsettling about this place, so unsettling it made us want to leave, and I was not going to go without dragging you three with us."

  "This can't possibly be good. And we don't have much good news either. How about I go make us some coffee while Zack fills you in on the night we had and you can tell us what you’ve discovered?"

  "Can you make it an Irish coffee? I could use something to steady my nerves after what Iris told me."

  "All right," Charlotte winked, "four Irish coffees coming right up."

  Walking into the adjoining kitchen, Charlotte listened to Zack recount their night as she got the coffee brewing. The bitter aroma instantly filled the air, and she stole a glance at the distorted world outside the rain-beaded windows before going to the pantry to fetch a bottle of whiskey. Zack didn't drink much, so the only alcohol in the house had been from the previous owners, and she had to search to pull out a dust-filmed bottle of Jameson. Adding the whiskey to the coffee, she placed the mugs on the tray and stole one last glance at the rain streaking down the glass beyond the sink, pondering why the world outside appeared to be sleeping, and walked back to the living room.

  "So..." she placed the tray down on the small table between them, "what did you uncover, Iris?"

  "I... I don't know how to say this, but," Iris paused, and glanced into her coffee mug, "the little girl was right. Everyone does die around here."

  "Well of course everyone dies, we all die."

  "No, Mr. Campbell, I mean the hospital here has a one-hundred percent mortality rate."