Haunted

by Amy Cross

  And that's when I see her again.

  Mo Garvey is standing right behind him. Her rotten, eyeless face is staring straight ahead, and after a moment she starts slowly raising her hands, as if she's trying to fumble her way forward. Unable to see, unable to speak, she takes a couple of cautious steps, and now her fingers are just inches from Lenny's arm.

  “It gives me no pleasure to do this,” Lenny explains, still staring down at me and apparently oblivious to the danger approaching him from behind. “Still, it's my duty, and I always do my duty.”

  I open my mouth to warn him about the girl, but suddenly he steps forward and kicks me hard in the ribs. I fall back, spluttering and struggling for breath, and then he kicks me again, this time cracking my right arm. I cry out, but this only encourages him to slam his foot against the arm, pushing down until the pain fills my mind and I scream.

  “That's better,” Lenny mutters, taking a step back.

  I clutch my broken right arm, and then I look up and see that Mo is still right behind him.

  “I'll make sure people think you lost your mind,” Lenny explains. “I've already laid the groundwork. People won't have a very high opinion of you, Michael, and I doubt there'll be much mourning when they find out that you're a goner. Not after certain stories get out. In fact, I imagine the rumor-mill's already in full swing. I know which ears to whisper into, and I know just what to say. This gossip's gonna be juicy, but we need a clean slate in this town. A new sheriff for starters. Someone smarter and more reliable.”

  Barely even noticing a word he's saying, I stare at Mo Garvey's face. I can see the flaps of torn skin around her eye sockets, stuck to patches of caked blood, and more blood has dried all around her mouth, darkening in the process until it looks like a kind of black treacle. The more I stare at her, the more I start to realize that the air all around us is starting to chill rapidly, to the extent that I'm shivering now as I watch Mo's fingers reach closer to Lenny. She seems uncertain, as if she's still trying to find him, but the air is getting colder and colder.

  “Your wife might talk,” Lenny continues, aiming the gun at my face. “Your daughter's young, I think she can be trusted. We'll see. So this is a good news, bad news kind of situation. The bad news is that I'll have to get rid of Louisa, but the good news is that maybe I can adopt little Alex myself and teach her to be more -”

  Suddenly he turns, as if he felt Mo's touch, but he seems not to see her.

  After a moment, clearly a little startled, he turns back to me.

  “She's here,” I stammer, still staring at her face as she reaches up toward the back of his neck. “Lenny -”

  “Cut the crap,” he replies, and now he sounds much more annoyed. “There's no point delaying this.”

  “Mo Garvey's right behind you,” I continue, watching as her fingers reach up slowly toward his shoulders. “She knows what we did, Lenny. She knows we have to pay for letting Neil go free.”

  “Is that right?” he asks, with a faint smile. The gun is still aimed at me, and his finger is still on the trigger. “Well excuse me if I don't run away screaming just because -”

  Suddenly he falls silent, and I can see the fear in his eyes. At the same time, Mo's dirty little fingers are touching the side of his neck, and the air temperature has plummeted below zero. Lenny's mouth opens, as if he's about to tell me once again that he doesn't believe in any of this stuff, but a moment later I hear a faint gasp coming from the dead little girl's lips.

  And I think Lenny can hear her too.

  “Jesus Christ,” Lenny stammers, his voice trembling with panic, “what -”

  Before he can finish, the gun fires, but his hands are shaking so much that the bullet misses me and instead blasts a chunk out of the wall. I still pull out of the way and slam down against the floor, but when I look back at him I see that Lenny is dropping to his knees with the gun at his side, and with Mo's icy hands resting on his shoulders from behind.

  “What does she want?” he gasps, as voices yell up to us from downstairs. “Michael, stop her!”

  Hearing footsteps running up toward the landing, I start pulling away as Mo continues to take a grip on Lenny's neck.

  “Are you okay in there?” Matt calls out from the other side of the door. “Is it done?”

  “Help me!” Lenny gasps, barely able to get any words out at all. “For the love of God, you have to stop her!”

  “No-one can help you,” I tell him, watching as Mo leans closer to the back of his head. “No-one can help any of us. It's not just Neil she wants. It's everyone who helped cover up his crime.”

  “Don't bullshit me!” he splutters, before letting out a gasp of pain. He starts turning his head, although the effort required is clearly immense and it takes a couple of seconds before he's able to see Mo's dead face from the corner of his eye. “What...”

  Hearing the door open, I turn just in time to see Matt and David entering the room. They freeze when they spot Lenny, and I can instantly tell from the look in their eyes that they can see Mo too. They hesitate for a moment, before Matt turns and bolts, and David follows just a fraction of a second later. Their panicked footsteps race down the stairs, and then I hear the front door swinging open.

  “Alex!” I shout, hoping my wife and daughter can hear me downstairs. “Louisa! Run! You have to get -”

  Suddenly the bedroom door slams shut and the light flickers off, and I turn to see that Mo has started slowly pulling Lenny's head back, as if she wants to stare down at him. He's letting out a series of pained gasps, but he seems powerless to push her away. A moment later the gun fires in his hand, then again and again, and two more times until the trigger clicks impotently and the weapon slips from his hand, clattering against the floor.

  “Help me,” he whimpers, with tears streaming down his face. “Michael, I'll give you anything you want but you have to help me...”

  Hearing a series of loud crashes and cries from downstairs, I start hauling myself up off the floor, although I instantly feel a searing pain in my broken right arm.

  Dropping back down, I tense myself before trying again, and this time I'm ready for the pain. I get to my feet and start limping toward the door, only to find that my way is blocked by Lenny as he remains on his knees, gasping with his head tilted back.

  Mo Garvey is standing right behind him, with her bloodied hands on the sides of his neck.

  “Just let my daughter go,” I stammer, barely able to get the words out as I feel a sharp pain in my chest. I've got several broken ribs at least, and even breathing is agony. “They didn't do anything to you. It's us you want. Not them.”

  Still staring down toward Lenny's face, Mo lets out a low, gurgling groan.

  “Please,” Lenny whispers, his eyes wide with fear as he stares at up the girl's mangled features, “don't hurt me! Let me out of here! I didn't do anything to you!”

  “You can't reason with her,” I tell him. “Not after -”

  Suddenly she turns to me, and for a moment I see the bloodied pits of her eye sockets before a huge force slams into my chest. I'm sent thudding back against the wall with such force that I cry out as the impact shakes my chest, and a picture falls off the wall and smashes next to me as I hit the floor. Wincing with pain, I try to get to my feet, but the same force hits me again and again, as if some invisible power is trying to pound me into the wall.

  “Stop!” I gasp, as yet another impact crunches more ribs on my right side. “Wait! I -”

  Blood erupts in the back of my throat and I double over in pain, but still the force pulls me back and then sends me crashing once more into the wall. I try to cry out, but each impact feels harder than the last and I almost pass out as my head bounces against the wood.

  Finally I slump down against the floor and the force fades, but every time I try to breathe I feel a stabbing pain close to my heart. It takes several attempts before I manage to breathe in, and the agony is strong enough to force tears from my eyes. Raising my head, I loo
k across the dark bedroom and see that Mo Garvey is leaning closer to Lenny's face now. Worms are tipping from her lips, falling down onto his cheeks, and -

  “Daddy, please come out now,” I hear a voice whimpering on the landing. Turning toward the door, I realize with a growing sense of horror that Alex is coming back this way. “Daddy, I don't like this.”

  “No!” I gasp, pushing past the pain and stumbling across the room.

  Mo hisses at me, but I throw myself against the door to make sure that it stays shut. No matter what else happens, I have to keep my daughter out of here.

  “Alex!” I shout, barely able to speak at all as the broken ribs continue to cut through my chest. “Run! Alex, you have to...”

  Suddenly the pain bursts, flooding my body and causing me to hold my breath as I feel a vast, agonizing wave of agony push through my neck. I'm trembling and sweat is pouring down my face, and I can barely even manage to keep myself pressed against the door, holding it shut.

  “Daddy?” Alex calls out.

  “Run!” I gasp, as I hear a crunching sound coming from over my shoulder. Turning, I see that as Mo tilts Lenny's neck further back, her victim's feet are shuddering and hitting the floor. “Alex, don't -”

  Before I can finish, I see that the flesh around Lenny's neck is tearing open. Blood starts gushing from the wound and he lets out a faint gurgle as Mo tilts his head further and further, and finally several pieces of splintered bone come slipping away from his meat. Holding his head tight, Mo twists his face as arcs of blood start spraying across the room, and Lenny lets out one final groan before his head is torn clear away from his body.

  Blood floods out from his severed neck, and it takes a couple of seconds before his body slumps over and lands heavy on the floor. A moment later Mo lets go of his head, letting it crunch down next to his waist. And then, slowly, she turns and looks in my direction. Raising her hands, she starts stumbling this way, fumbling her way across the room as she tries to find me. Blind and deaf, and unable to speak, she refuses to stop. She wants her revenge.

  “Daddy?” Alex whimpers from the other side of the door, just behind me. “Daddy, are you okay? Daddy, please come out of the bedroom. We have to get out of the house.”

  “Leave her alone,” I whisper, watching in horror as Mo steps closer. She might not be able to see me, but her grasping hands are reaching for my face and I realize after a moment that she's following the sound of Alex's voice. I could get out of the way, but then Mo might get to the door and pull it open, and then she might get to my daughter. I have to stay right here.

  Suddenly I feel the door starting to bump open behind my back. Startled, I turn and see that something is pushing from the other side, and I realize that Alex must be trying to come through. Although I feel weak and barely able to move, I push through the pain and force my weight against the door, trying to get it shut again. Broken ribs are tearing through my chest, but none of that matters now. All that matters is that Mo is following the sound of Alex's voice, and I have to keep my little girl safe.

  “Go, Alex,” I gasp, barely able to get the words out at all. “Run...”

  Even though I try with all my strength to keep her out, I'm powerless as the door continues to inch open.

  “No!” I gurgle, tasting blood in the back of my throat now. “Alex, get out of here...”

  A fraction of a second later, I see Alex's hand reaching into the room, followed by the creaking, crunching sound of Mo Garvey right behind me. I look up just in time to see Mo reaching her right hand through the icy air, and to my horror I watch as her hand touches Alex's shoulder. My little girl looks up into the darkness, her eyes widening with shock as she sees Mo's rotting, bloodied face.

  Mo Garvey has found my daughter.

  “Leave her alone!” Louisa screams suddenly, and Alex is instantly pulled back out of the doorway.

  Filled with relief, I use the last of my strength to slam the door shut again.

  “Daddy's hurt!” Alex yells in the distance, but I can already tell that she's being dragged downstairs.

  Louisa's saving her.

  She's going to be okay. They're both going to be okay.

  “I love you,” I whisper, resting against the door.

  A moment later, I feel Mo Garvey's cold hands on my shoulder. Her fingers are flexing as she fumbles to find my neck, but I know I no longer have the strength to run.

  Alex is out of the house.

  Alex is safe.

  Whatever happens to me, the most important thing is that Alex is going to be fine.

  And now Mo Garvey has found me instead.

  “I love you so much, Alex,” I whimper, as tears stream down my face and Mo's icy fingers start curling around my neck. “Always remember -”

  Suddenly I gasp as I feel Mo's fingertips digging into my flesh. Her touch is so cold, I can feel each individual finger slicing deeper into my neck, and finally I feel a crunching sensation as she starts pushing further through the meat. For a moment, it's as if she's trying to dig the top of my spine clear out of the base of my skull.

  “I love you, Alex,” I gasp, as the taste of blood fills my mouth. “Louisa, both of you, I -”

  My ears are filled with an excruciating tearing sound, but there's barely any pain as I feel my neck twisting as it's ripped apart. Blood is gushing up against the underside of my chin, and I open my mouth to let out a faint groan as Mo tears my head away. I hear a heavy thud as my body slumps to the ground, and then my head is turned until I'm staring straight up into the dead girl's ravaged, hollowed-out eye sockets. She stares for a moment, almost as if she can see me, and then she lets go of my head and lets me fall to the floor.

  The last thing I see, as I blink furiously and try to speak, is Mo shuffling toward the bedroom window. She's looking out at something, and sirens are blaring in the distance, starting to fill the window with a flashing blue light. Mo's letting out a faint groaning sound, and I can tell that she seems to be watching something on the lawn. It's almost as if she's waiting for someone, as if she's still not satisfied.

  A moment later, hearing Alex scream, I realize that my daughter will be safe so long as she never sets foot in this house again.

  The last thing I see is the night sky outside the window, and the stars high above the town.

  Alex, I love you. And I'll always watch over you.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Alex Roberts

  Today

  “When I arrived at the house,” Harry explains, “I found you and your mother sobbing on the lawn. I lifted you up off the cold grass, and you were crying in my arms. Later, when I went inside, I found the bodies of your father and Lenny Johnson in the master bedroom. I know it sounds crazy, but at the time the most logical assumption was that your father had murdered Lenny and then killed himself. A knife was found in the room, so it was assumed that he'd carved his own head clean off. The idea seemed ludicrous, but Doc Milford said it was possible, so the department was willing to go along with the explanation. But I never believed it. Not for one second.”

  “You think my father was trying to protect me?” I stammer. “You think he didn't lose his mind at all?”

  “The body of Matt Beamish was found not far from the house, and then David Trelawney jumped off a bridge just out of town. The official version of the story is that your father had killed them before he went to the house and murdered Lenny, and that's what Doc Milford wrote in his report. But again, I never bought that for a moment, and I tried to persuade the others that we should keep the case open. Unfortunately they thought I was a crackpot, which is when I realized I had to leave the force. I tried to get your mother to talk, to back me up, but she was catatonic with shock. And you were just a kid, and it took a long time before the child psychologists would even let us speak to you.”

  “I don't remember that night at all,” I tell him.

  “So I heard. Maybe that's for the best.”

  “A man can't cut off his own head,”
I point out. “That's absurd.”

  “Apparently it might be possible if he's in the grip of a real strong psychosis,” he replies, “but I knew that wasn't what had happened.” He touches a hand to his chest. “In here, I just knew that your father hadn't lost his mind. It was just easier for people to believe that story, instead of digging deeper. When I suggested that maybe Mo Garvey had come back for revenge, I was treated like a goddamn imbecile. I understand that reaction, really I do, but if you accept that Mo was there, then suddenly everything kind of falls into place. You just have to make the one, huge leap first.”

  I shake my head.

  “Just open your mind to the possibility,” he continues.

  “I can't.”

  “You said at the time that you saw her. When we got to the house, you were sobbing on the lawn and you said you'd seen a dead girl in the bedroom with your father.”

  I shake my head.

  “Let me show you,” he adds, limping over to the desk and grabbing a tablet computer. He taps at the screen, before holding it up so that I can see a video of myself.

  Shocked, I see seven-year-old me sitting against a white background. I knew these videos had been recorded, but I'd never been able to get hold of them.

  “Tell me exactly who was in the room with your father,” a voice asks from behind the camera.

  “She was scary,” I hear myself replying. “Her face was dead. I'd seen her in my room before. I didn't like her, and I asked Daddy to make her go away, but he couldn't. She seemed to like him. She followed him around sometimes, even when he couldn't see her. I even tried to talk to her once, but most of the time she just stood in the corner of my room. I don't think she could see or hear very well.”

  “Do you know her name?” the voice asks.

  “No.”