Autumn Falls

by A. R. Kingston

  "No way." Charlotte picked up her mug and stared at the rain picking up outside, rapping on the windows with the wind. "That's impossible, even for an inner city."

  "I know, but that's how it is here. Anyone who goes into the emergency room at that hospital, or for surgery, or anything... well, let's just say they don't leave. That man you transported on your first call here, Luke McGuire, dead. I looked him up like you asked, and he died an hour after arriving at the hospital from blood loss."

  "Okay, that's bullshit. I stabilized him. He was fine when we dropped him off. I mean sure, they may not have been able to save his foot, but there is no way he would have died from that unless they left him to bleed to death in that room."

  "That's what I told her, but then she showed me his death certificate. That old lady who was hit by the car, she's dead as well. Oh, and here is the kicker, the hospital records show her as being dead on arrival when we both know she was still alive when we brought her in."

  "And these are just the ones we know of personally, but the list goes on and on. In the last ten years, people have died from things like appendicitis and the common cold there."

  "How is that even possible?"

  "No idea." Iris placed down her mug and glanced over her shoulder before dropping her voice to a whisper. "I only found the records from when the new hospital was built, there is nothing from the old one, and I'm willing to bet they are still buried in that place and if we were to look we'd discover the same thing."

  "Guess we know what we have to do next." Zack leaned back with a scowl. "After last night, I was hoping to avoid this, but we are left with no choice now. We have to break into the old hospital and see for ourselves what these people are hiding."

  "No way, man. You can go do all the ghost hunting on your own. Iris and I will stay here, where it's safe."

  "It's all right, Chuck. I'll go with him; you guy can watch Kevin and keep him safe. These things are after him too. But..." Charlotte looked at the clock behind her, "what are we going to do about work, all three of us are late, don't you think they will notice and come looking for us."

  "Doubt it. Autumn Falls is a ghost town, there is not a soul in sight. Not to mention Iris and I have already been to the station, it's deserted, not even Victoria Owns is anywhere to be found."

  "That's a bit peculiar, where do you think everyone is?"

  "How should I know? Maybe they are all bracing for the incoming storm, and they couldn't reach us because all the lines are down."

  "Maybe, or," Zack darted his eyes around the room, "maybe something is going on here that they don't want us to know about. We should go check out the old hospital right now."

  "No, we will go tomorrow, after we all come up with a plan to return to the mainland. Right now though, I want to check out the attic. That thing was up there last night, looking for something, and I want to know what it was."

  "Fine, you have a point, getting the hell out of here is a priority. You two want to join us upstairs or will you stay down here?"

  "I'll stay here and keep an eye on Kevin if that's okay with you. I don't much like attics, never have since I was a kid."

  "Of course, Iris, just ask Kev to show you his latest drawings or something." Charlotte placed her mug on the tray and go up. "Chuck, want to come with?"

  "Sure, why the hell not? Partners till the bitter end, sister."

  Walking up the stairs to the second floor, Charlotte instructed Kevin to go downstairs and keep Iris company while they fetched something from the attic. For the first time since they got up, she took in the sights of the aftermath of the fight between the Naval Officer and the creature. They had slashed the blue floral wallpaper in several places. Some marks were from a sword, and some from a four clawed animal. Picture frames lay on the floor, shattered or with faint ribbons snaking down the glass. The banister to the attic had been gouged and splintered. Walking up the creaking steps to the third-floor landing, she had to step over chunks of wood of the door split in two, half of it still swaying on the hinges. Fearful that whatever burst through was still inside waiting for them, Charlotte swallowed the rock in her throat and stepped into the musty, dim space beyond.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  “Some people think that the truth can be hidden with a little cover-up and decoration. But as time goes by, what is true is revealed, and what is fake fades away.”–Ismail Haniyeh

  T he room lay in shambles. Scattered boxes littered the floor, spilling the papers and knickknacks they once contained onto the unfinished boards beneath her feet. One of the two dormer windows burst inward, letting in the rain which specked the papers and shattered glass. A stiff wind picked up outside and whistled through the jagged edges of the frame, causing Charlotte to hold tight to her sweater. Surveying the mess, she strolled over to the far corner and picked up a box of mildewed baby toys, setting them aside.

  "Okay, let's see if we can figure out what that thing was after."

  Agreeing, Zack joined her at the opposite end while Charles went to scour the middle, coughing as he brushed aside the dust and the cobwebs dangling from the ceiling. Shifting through the rubble, all Charlotte discovered was some stuffed animals and baby clothes, nothing that would be worth tearing the place apart over. Aside from kitchen utensils, holiday decorations, and winter clothing, no one found anything of value until Chuck stumbled upon a small door hidden in the wall behind some boxes. Prying it open, he pulled out a wood chest and blew the dust off, digging through the contents while Charlotte and Zack continued to sort through the rest of the attic.

  "Hey… Char," Chuck called out to her as she was repacking a split open box of china. "Does your mom's first name happen to be Eleanor?"

  "Yes, why?"

  "And where did you say you were born?"

  "Boston." She turned, rubbing her arm with a frown. "What's this all about?"

  "Well, this here birth certificate says otherwise. Come, take a look."

  Dashing for Chuck, she snatched the paper out of his hands and reread the lines over and over, unwilling to believe what she was seeing. At first, she attempted to rationalize what she saw by trying to convince herself it belonged to a different girl named Charlotte. But it was her birth date on the paper, the exact time she was born, her weight, her mother's name, and hers, although her last name was different. Unable to deny what she saw, her hands trembled, and a lump formed in her throat. Sick to her stomach, her knees wobbled as she cried, unable to stop the tears from falling.

  "Hey..." Zack came over, putting an arm around her, warming her up. "What is it, babe? What's wrong?"

  "It..." she sobbed, "it says that I was born here—in this very house—to an Eleanor Briggs and a Cyrus Sinclair. This is my home, and the paramedic who died twenty-five years ago was my father. My actual name is Charlotte Mary Sinclair, and I belong in Autumn Falls. That’s why the island wants me."

  "Wait a sec." Chuck rubbed his stubbly chin. "You don't think C. Sinclair, is the same Cyrus as the guy who's been driving us around the island this whole time, do you?"

  "Well, I mean, if my father lived, he would be around the same age as Cyrus… but my father is dead, and Cyrus is very much alive. I'm sure it's a strange coincidence. Not like Cyrus is an uncommon name or anything, right?"

  "I guess. But I wonder if our Cyrus knew who you were, and if he did, why did he not say anything?"

  "I'm sure he had his reasons, just like how my mother had reasons for lying to me all these years."

  "Hmm." Zack blew a layer of dust from a photo album sitting in the box by Chuck's feet. "Maybe we can find some answers in here."

  Opening the water-logged album, they flipped through the surviving photos. First few pages were filled with Cyrus and Eleanor as a young couple, their engagement, their wedding and the house in Autumn Falls. Towards the back were pictures of baby Charlotte and the last photo was of the three of them, smiling as they looked at the camera. Grabbing the sepia picture from the album, Charlotte flipped it ove
r and read the writing on the back. Her mother dated it three weeks before Cyrus Sinclair died in the accident. Sliding it into her pocket, she looked over at Zack who was still scratching his head.

  "I don't understand. Why did mom leave all this behind? Why didn't she take any of these with her? Why did she hide this behind the wall?"

  "No clue. I'd tell you to ask her, but the phones are dead. Maybe she did not want to be reminded of it all after your dad passed."

  "But what about my birth certificate? My real name is Charlotte Sinclair. Why would she change it? Why wouldn't she tell me who my dad was and how he passed away? Why did she tell me never to go to Maine? Even you mentioned how strange that was."

  "I don't know, babe. I am guessing she was trying to protect you from someone, or something."

  "Like what? Was it this island she was trying to keep me away from, and if so, why not just come out and say it?"

  "Look, Cherry, I'm just as bewildered as you. I can't even imagine what went through your mom's head, but I promise you, we will sort this out."

  "Here." Chuck folded up the certificate, handing it to her. "At least you can have your real identity back if you want."

  "Thank you." She smiled and put the paper into the pocket with the photo. Outside the window the rain picked up, dousing them in cold water. "Let's get out of here, we can figure out what to do next downstairs, where it's dry."

  "Sure thing. After we are done here, Iris and I will return to the hotel and meet you back here in the morning."

  "No. You go grab your things and come here. You two can have the spare room since Cherry sleeps with me."

  "Oh, what's this Char? You are sharing your bed with him already? Well, that was quick."

  "Oh, shut up Chuck. Enough joking around. Zack is right. You and Iris will be safer here, with us, where they can't pick us off one at a time. Plus, once we figure out how to get out of here, it is best if we didn't have to meet up. Now let's go, I'm freezing."

  Leaving the attic behind them, the three rushed to the living room where Iris was playing cards with Kevin. Sending the boy into the family room to watch television, they set off to figure out a plan to retreat to the mainland. Getting a boat was the only way off, and the island had plenty around. Problem was, Charles would have to steal one since the rental store vanished with the ferry terminal. They agreed he would sneak over to the fishing docks in the morning and see what he could find while Zack and Charlotte broke into the old hospital to look for clues before meeting at the house for their trip back to shore.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  “Sometimes human places, create inhuman monsters.”—Stephen King, The Shining

  L ightning split the sky, shaking the windows, and illuminating the living room as everyone sat around talking. The storm had gotten worse. Rain battered the windows, filling the house with a dull drumming. The gale outside howled, and the trees groaned as they bowed with its prowess. Charlotte curled up next to Zack on the couch, glancing outside with a shiver as Chuck continued to formulate his plan. Even the crackling fire, and hot chocolate did little to keep the unearthly chill away, which seemed to have come from the underworld itself. More so than ever she wanted off the island and back into the safe arms of the mainland, but she knew it would not happen, at least not until the weather let up.

  Another blaze of lighting burned the sky and thunder followed on its heels, causing Charlotte to jump up and stare out the rain-streaked windows. The gale had stopped, and aside from the rain hammering the pavement outside, all was silent. It seemed as if the weather had eased for a moment before the sky unleashed and hail poured out, slamming against the glass, filling the room with a clatter. She thought the brief reprieve was strange and sat still, drowning out everyone's voices, listening to the faint rustling coming from upstairs. At first, it sounded like a mouse scurrying down the hall, and then the soft creaking of a door, followed by a scream.

  "Kevin!"

  Leaping off the sofa, Charlotte nearly knocked over the coffee table as she bound her way up the stairs, rushing for the room her son was sleeping in. Gripping the frame of the door, she stood and peered into the dark, hearing only the raspy rhythm of Kevin's breathing. He was sleeping on the bottom bunk, and she could see he was sitting up with an inky outline crouched on the mattress beside him. A flash of lightning illuminated the room, revealing an ashen, hunched over Gollum sitting at the edge of the bed. Skin clung to its bone; the bumps of its spine arched as it reached a clawed hand for the boy’s face.

  Jolting from her spot, she made a dash for the bed to snatch her son away from the creature before it had the chance to hurt him. Once more the room lit up and the thing turned to her with a primitive, spine-snapping hiss. Charlotte stood in front of it and looked at its black, hate-filled eyes as shiny as glass beads. It opened its mouth again, revealing rows of snarled and jagged fangs, and with a roar, it reached out and raked its razor-sharp claws across her arm. Staggering back with a pained yelp, she gripped the torn sleeve of her sweater as warm blood seeped between her fingers. Undeterred, she stepped back towards her son and the creature lunged at her, swiping for her throat. Leaning away from the claws, she heard heavy footsteps clamoring up the stairs and motioned for Kevin to back away while the thing was distracted.

  "Stand back." Zack shouted.

  Taking a step back, she watched him flick on the lights, causing the creature to cover its eyes, giving him a chance to run into the room holding a fireplace poker. The creature leaped off the bed and scuttled toward Zack with a gurgling growl. Ignoring the monster, he lunged and pierced its chest with the tip of the brass poker. With a shrill howl, the creature thrashed and clawed at the air as he pushed it against the floor, pinning it to the wood boards. Black ooze seeped from its body, getting absorbed by the planks, singeing their surface. It let out another bleat, swiped at Zack, and vanished in a cloud of dark smoke, leaving everyone baffled.

  Yanking his half-melted weapon out of the floorboards, Zack looked at Charlotte's mangled arm and back over to Chuck and Iris, who were standing in the doorway, their faces frozen in a silent scream. Below the window, more creatures yelped and bellowed as their claws scratched against the outer walls. A glass pane exploded in the kitchen, and yips akin to a pack of hyenas out on a hunt drifted up past the stairs.

  "Quick, everyone, in my room. Help me board it up. We'll be safer in together."

  Yanking Kevin off the bed, Charlotte wrapped the shaking boy safely in her arms as she dashed out of the room behind Zack. Spotting more things climbing up the stairs, sprinting after her, she picked up her pace and made it to the room in time to shut the door on one of them, chopping off its fingers which vanished in a plume of smoke before they hit the floor. Zack latched the door shut and pushed a dresser against it while Charles and Iris secured the shutters on the windows. Setting Kevin down on the bed, Charlotte winced and collapsed to the floor. The room spun around her; she held back the bile as she lay against the cool wood, clutching her throbbing arm.

  Grabbing her med bag off the floor, Chuck knelt by her side and cut away the remainder of her sleeve, revealing the strips of raw flesh pulsating blood beneath. Pulling out a suture kit she insisted on having, he did his best to stitch up her arm, before wrapping it tight with the bandages on hand. Lifting her into his arms, Zack held her tight, and carried her to bed, laying her down next to Kevin before settling down on the other side. Lifting her heavy lids, she wrapped her arm around her son and took hold of Zack's hand. Confined safely in the room, she listened to the storm batter the house, and the creatures slashing at their door until sleep took hold of her, and she drifted away until morning.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  “People are supposed to fear the unknown, but ignorance is bliss when knowledge is so damn frightening.”—Laurell K. Hamilton, The Laughing Corpse

  D espite it being noon, the island was painted in mute colors with the rain continuing to pour down. The sky was an ominous gray blanket, snuffing out the s
un and with it any hope of getting off the island before twilight fell. Sitting in the passenger seat of the Range Rover, Charlotte glanced out the rain-washed windshield at the mist of the headlights refracting in the fog as they idled behind an abandoned building a short track from the hospital. It was a brick building with a rain-worn sign, two windows filmed with dust and barren metal shelves. Ivy crept up the walls, and as she stepped out of the car, Charlotte got a chill as voices whispered from inside the building, turning into inaudible mumbles in the rain sizzling on the pavement. She didn't need to hear what they were saying; she knew they wanted her to turn back. Ignoring their warning, she tightened her windbreaker around herself and set off down the narrow gravel path after Zack.

  Lighting rippled through the sky as they arrived at the wrought-iron gates of the old hospital. Intricate designs of ivy swirled and intertwined under the pointed spikes that alternated in height. Beyond the fence lay a field of rain-flattened grass collecting pools of water, plopping with the drops of rain. A metallic scent of ozone intermingling with something Charlotte couldn't place filled the air; something old, stale, with a hint of sulfur that burned skin. Zack gave the gate a push and the rusted latch groaned as it swung open to let them in. Slipping through the crack behind him, she crouched as they snuck their way to the side of the building closest to the woods. Away from the sight of prying eyes, they located an open window not glued down by years of neglect and layers of paint and quietly slipped inside.

  Turning on her flashlight, Charlotte surveyed the mildew-scented room while the hollow rain continued to batter the building. A single gurney with pitted white legs, crusty green cushions, and a head strap sat in the middle of the room beside a table with a gutted metal box on it. The antiquated device only had two nobs left on it, one for dosage minutes, the other for intensity. Old electroshock room, she thought while her beam of light continued a steady path around the room. Mint-green tile went halfway up the wall, and to the left, above it was a message written in dripping red letters. And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat upon him was Death and Hell followed with him. Shuddering, she traced her light to the door, above which hung an upside-down crucifix, tittering on a single screw.