by Amy Cross
“I'm sure he did,” Ole said, taking a step back and putting his hands on his hips as he admired the place. After a moment, however, he frowned and turned to her. “Leonard Westengen?”
She nodded. “My father.”
“Leonard Westengen who used to work for the -”
“That's right,” she said, interrupting him. “I imagine maybe you knew him.”
“Oh, I'd only just started when he...” Ole's voice trailed off for a moment. “I'm very sorry about what happened. Everyone was shocked when the news came in. It was one of the worst days I've ever known on the job.”
“He was a good man,” she replied, forcing a smile. “His death his us all very hard.”
“And he used to own this place, did he?” Ole continued. “Well, isn't that a coincidence?”
“It is?”
“I love coincidences,” he added. “I feel like they're hints of some deeper mechanics. We don't truly understand the way the world works, we can't hope to, we're like ants crawling on the case of a pocket watch. But sometimes we see little patterns and coincidences on the surface that give us a hint of the deeper truths we can never understand, and of the wheels and cogs turning beneath the surface on which we merely crawl. I know that might sound a little mystical for you kids, but it's what I truly believe.”
“It's... very profound,” Jennifer replied, with a slight frown.
Ole paused, still admiring the cabin, before suddenly he reached up with his left hand and grabbed his right shoulder firmly. “This is a good place. I can feel it in my bones, this is a cabin that was built with love and care, and with deep appreciation for the natural world all around.”
“Yes,” Jennifer replied. “Yes, I'm sure you're right.”
“But there's something else too,” he continued, “something...” For a moment his eyes focused on one of the upstairs windows, where he could just about make out a faint female figure looking back down at him. “There's something else here,” he whispered finally, “something that came later, something that doesn't fit with the rest of the place.” He paused again, watching as the figure in the window took a step back, disappearing from view. “I can feel it in my bones,” Ole continued. “Just a little vibration that's running contrary to all the other, more natural vibrations of the place. I'm not saying I've got any kind of psychic ability, absolutely not, but when the energy of a place is this strong... If this is what I'm picking up from the outside, I can only imagine that when I take a look inside I'm going to -”
Suddenly Jennifer screamed, her cry piercing the air for a few seconds until she stopped just as abruptly.
“I beg your pardon?” Ole replied, staring at her with an expression of shock.
“That's the scream you heard, right?” she said with a smile. “The one that drew you here? I guess maybe it sounded a little different when you heard it from miles away, carrying through the forest, but that's the scream I was doing. As part of the role-playing I told you about, remember?”
He stared at her for a moment.
“See now?” she asked.
He paused.
“No,” he said finally.
“No?”
“No, that wasn't the scream.”
She paused. “Yes, it was.”
He shook his head.
Clearly a little flustered, she watched as he turned and made his way toward the back door. After a moment she screamed again, this time for a few more seconds before falling quiet.
As he made his way up the steps, Ole glanced back at her.
“Better?” she asked, trying not to let her desperation show.
“That still wasn't it,” he replied. “Impressive, but... No, it was definitely a different scream.”
Hurrying after him, she stopped at the top of the steps and screamed again, this time louder than ever. Nearby, Joe and the others came running around the corner to check what was happening.
“There,” Jennifer said finally, a little breathless as she kept her eyes on Ole. “That was it, right?”
Ole opened the back door before glancing at her again. “No,” he said after a moment. “Still not the right scream. The scream I heard was... unrestrained. It was desperate and fearful. You said someone claimed you couldn't let go of your inhibitions and produce a proper scream?” He smiled. “That person was right. No offense, but you seem too tightly wound. Look at the way you're standing.”
“What's wrong with the way I'm standing?” she asked.
“You look tense.”
“I'm not tense.”
“Well, you look it.” He smiled. “I consider myself to be a connoisseur of the art of body language, and I'm certain the scream I heard earlier came from a loose body.” Now he sighed. “No offense, but you don't look like you could be that loose.”
“I don't?”
“You don't. And that's why I don't think you're capable of producing the scream I heard earlier. Mind if I look around?”
With that, he made his way into the kitchen.
“What the fuck?” Joe hissed, keeping his voice low. “Is he completely insane?”
“Leave it,” Jennifer whispered. “I've got this.”
“What was all that garbage about body language and... ants on pocket watches?” he continued. “The man actually doesn't seem -”
“Leave it!” Jennifer snapped, keeping her voice low. “I'll handle it, okay?”
Heading inside, she saw that Ole was walking slowly across the kitchen, running his hands over the work surfaces and gradually getting closer to the door that led down to the basement. After a moment, however, there was a faint bump from upstairs, and they both looked at the ceiling.
“Could you ask her to come down?” Ole said.
“Ask who?”
“The other person here.”
“There's no-one else here.”
He turned to her. “You're not being entirely truthful, are you?”
“I... I'm what?”
He smiled. “Sorry, I didn't mean that to sound quite so accusatory, it's just... I saw someone, a girl, at one of the upstairs windows just now, and now I can hear her so... Maybe she was the one who screamed?”
“I told you, that was me.”
“Yeah, and I told you...” He paused. “Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves. The other girl in the house just made a noise that let me know she's here, and I'd really like to just check that she's okay.”
“Check that who's okay?” Joe asked, having reached the doorway behind them.
“The other girl who's here with you,” Ole replied, heading through to the hallway and taking a look up the stairs. “Hello?” he called out. “There's nothing to worry about, I'm just here to make sure everyone's okay!”
“Seriously?” Joe whispered to Jennifer.
“I've got this,” she hissed.
“Yeah, do you? Really?”
Pushing him away, Jennifer took a few steps forward and watched as Ole wandered back toward her.
“Shy, is she?” he asked with a casual smile.
“There really isn't anyone else here,” she said firmly.
“Got a ghost, have you?”
She sighed. “Listen -”
“Actually it could be that,” he added, interrupting her. “If there really isn't supposed to be anyone else here, even though I saw someone...” He looked up at the ceiling. “It could very well be that you've got yourselves a spiritual presence in this house, maybe that's what I picked up from outside.”
“Of course we don't have a spiritual presence,” Jennifer snapped. “Like I told you, it's an old cabin, sometimes it just creaks a little.” She watched as Ole made his way past her, meandering slowly in the direction of the basement door. Glancing at Joe and the others, she saw the fear in their eyes. “There's just the four of us here,” she continued, before letting out another, even louder scream that lasted for several seconds.
Ole turned to her, clearly startled.
“There,” she said breathlessly,
stepping closer to him. “Now that was the scream you heard.”
He stared at her for a moment. “No,” he said cautiously, “no it still wasn't. Still too tight.” He turned toward the basement door. “I want to see down there. You all wait here while I -”
Grabbing a saucepan from the counter, Jennifer swung it at his head with enough force to send him staggering against the wall. Without giving him any time to react, she hit him again and again, each time battering him a little further down until he slumped to the floor. His right hand reached for the radio on his belt, but she hit him a couple more times, letting out a gasp of anger in the process until she realized he was unconscious. Finally she hit him again, only stopping when she saw a patch of blood on the side of his head.
“There,” she sneered, her whole body shaking with anger as she carefully set the saucepan back on the counter. “Did you feel that in your bones? Or am I still too tight and restrained?”
Hurrying over to join her, Joe stared down at the body on the floor.
“Oh God,” he stammered, finally taking a step back. “You killed a cop. Jesus Christ, Jennifer, you killed a fucking cop!”
“Of course I didn't,” she replied, crouching next to Ole and checking his pulse. “Not yet, anyway. He's still alive.”
“A cop!” Joe shouted. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I was thinking he probably shouldn't go to the basement,” she said firmly, getting to her feet and turning to him. “What's wrong with you? Why are you panicking?”
“He's a cop!” Joe screamed. “Do you have any idea what you've done?”
“It'll be fine,” she said calmly.
“How? How the hell will this be fine?”
She glanced at Daniel and Christian, seeing the shock on their faces, before turning back to her brother. “I'll fix it,” she told him. “Don't worry your pretty little head about it, because I will make everything alright again. The way I always do.”
“How?” he asked. “How are you going to make everything alright?”
“I don't know yet,” she replied, “but I will. I can come up with something, there's always a way to fix things so long as you stay calm and keep a cool head. You need to trust me. Haven't I always made things work out fine?”
Shaking his head, Joe took another step back, his eyes fixed on Ole's unconscious body. “We have to get out of here,” he stammered after a moment. “We have to get the hell away from this place!”
“Are you insane?” she asked. “That's the last thing we have to do. We have to stay here and clean up, and then we have to wait for Cole to arrive. We still have a video to finish, remember?”
“You want to put the cop in the video?” Joe asked.
“Of course not, that'd be stupid.” She paused, before stepping around Ole's body and reaching down to grab his arms. “Take his legs,” she said firmly. “We need to move him.”
Chapter Sixteen
With thick silver duct tape wrapped around her head to keep her mouth shut, Anna could only stare with wide-eyed horror as Jennifer and Joe carried Ole's body down into the basement and dumped him next to the far wall. They'd already used his own handcuffs to secure his wrists behind his back, and his legs had been tied together at the ankles.
“This is your fault,” Jennifer snapped, turning to her. “Apparently your scream is impossible to copy. Apparently I'm not loose enough, whatever the hell that means.”
“Now what?” Joe asked, his voice trembling with fear. “What's your big plan here?”
She paused, before glancing at the door. “Christian.”
“What about him?”
Another pause. “He's an idiot, isn't he?”
“So? He's your boyfriend, not mine.”
“Exactly.” She turned back to him. “He can't keep this in. No way. He's like Marit, he'll panic and spill everything, and that's how we'll get caught, unless...”
He waited for her to continue. “Unless what?”
“Give me a moment,” she replied, checking her watch. “It's almost 7pm, how long until Cole gets here?”
“It could be any time. Probably later, though, after dark.”
“We should get rid of the cop before he arrives. The last thing we need is for him to get jumpy and cancel the deal. By the time Cole arrives, I want the cop out of here and I don't want him mentioned again. We can't arouse suspicion, so...” She paused for a moment. “Christian's the loose strand here. I trust Daniel, but Christian's a fool. We shouldn't have brought him in the first place, but if we cut him out, it just means there's more money to share between the three of us.”
“How are we going to cut him out?” Joe asked. “Are you gonna kill your own boyfriend?” He waited for a reply, before seeing the sliver of calm anger in her eyes. “Jesus Christ, Jennifer, is that your plan?”
“Relax,” she replied, turning to him. “It's not like I'm asking you to do it. I'd even suggest putting him in the video, but that might be a risk too far, too many connections that could lead back to us.” She watched her brother's shocked face for a moment, before frowning. “What's wrong?” she asked. “You're looking at me in a very strange way.”
“What are you?” he whispered. “How can you just make all these decisions so easily?”
“This again?” she sighed.
“When Pappa -”
“Shut up!” she hissed, stepping over to him and slapping him hard. “Just shut the hell up, okay? You should be grateful to me for all the messes I clear up. If it wasn't for me, Pappa... If it wasn't for me, we wouldn't have got this far.” She paused, before turning and heading back to the door. “Come on, we only have a few hours before Cole gets here, we need to move that police car and make sure there's no chance of it being traced to the cabin. We need to start by cleaning the kitchen.”
As they headed up the stairs, Anna stared in horrified silence at Ole's slumped body. She was trembling with fear, but after a moment she heard footsteps in the kitchen above and she realized that time was running out. Pulling on the chains that held her to the wooden chair, she felt metal digging into the worn skin around her wrists and ankles but still she kept trying to get free, before slumping back as she realized the task was hopeless. Trying again to twist free, she felt the chair creak slightly but the chains remained firm. The duct tape was so tight across her mouth, she couldn't even let out a cry of frustration.
For a few minutes, she sat in complete silence as she tried to think of a way out, until finally she heard music playing in the kitchen above. She stared at the ceiling, imagining the others up there, getting on with the task of erasing all traces of their actions, and then she turned and looked at the sack in the corner, filled with Marit's severed remains. In her mind's eye, she imagined the cabin looking pristine again, with Jennifer and the others driving back to Oslo and getting on with their lives.
Behind her back, her trembling fingers felt the sides of the wooden chair, until slowly she began to come up with an idea.
Struggling, she managed to start slowly tipping the chair back until finally it fell and landed hard on the floor. She immediately rolled onto her side and used her toes to gradually start pushing herself to the nearest wall. Several toenails were torn off in the process, but after a few minutes she was in position, ready to push against the wall to give herself leverage. The chains were far too strong to break, but she figured the chair itself was another matter and that if she could find a way to break it apart, she might be able to wriggle free. She tried to slam her shoulders against the wall, hoping that she'd be able to smash the backrest, but when that didn't work she paused for a moment, trying to think of another approach.
Finally, taking a deep breath, she realized she had to use the chains against the chair, so she tried a few different methods until finally she was able to strain her chest and arms in a manner that pushed the chair's seat away from the backrest. She could feel the chains digging deeper into her flesh as she pushed, but she kept going, holding her breath and
trying to ignore the pain as the chair's joints began to creak. For several minutes she continued to push, straining every sinew in her body and feeling the bones in her arms starting to bend. Telling herself that the chair would break first, since it was weaker than the chains and weaker than her body, she kept going until eventually she had to give up. Only able to breathe through her nose, she took a few minutes to recover, while staring at the red light of the camera on the room's far side.
Every second of her struggle was being recorded.
Filled with anger, she tried again. This time she could feel the chair's seat coming loose a little more, but it still wasn't enough and she had to stop after a few more minutes. Her entire body was wracked with pain, but she steadied herself before trying for a third time, pushing and pushing until she felt as if she was about to break apart. She needed to breathe again, to take a rest, but she forced herself to keep going until she realized she had to stop and then she continued anyway, with a cold sweat spreading across her face.
Suddenly the back of the chair broke loose from the seat, with enough force to bump Anna's head against the wall.
Desperately trying to get her breath back through her nose, she wriggled through the chains, which felt looser now that she was able to push part of the chair away. Twisting around, she felt the two parts of the broken chair banging together as she tried to work out how to get loose, and finally she managed to get a section of the chains to loop over the chair's legs, which in turn meant that she was able to roll onto her back and start kicking the chains away from her naked body. Pulling her hands free, she immediately reached up and tore the duct tape away, which allowed her to take deep gulps of air as she rolled onto her front and tried to get up.
Her body was shaking so much, she could barely even get onto her hands and knees before slumping back down. When she tried to crawl forward, she found she was unable to move more than a couple of inches before stopping as she felt arcs of pain streaking through her bones. She wanted to cry out, to scream for help, but she knew she couldn't risk drawing any of the others down to her. Not yet, anyway. She needed to come up with a plan. Above, their footsteps could still be heard in the kitchen, hurrying about as they started cleaning up the mess they'd made.
