Let’s take stock here. The excrement is flooding toward me, an unholy stench is filling the house, my family have deserted me, and I have to do something. I’m the only one here left to face the fecal monster that is threatening to destroy our inner sanctum. So I do the only thing any other rational-thinking human being placed in this position would do. I run into Organza’s room, snatch her princess bedcover off her bed, and I dump it in front of the flow to halt the unrelenting river of poop.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Well, now we’re stuck. Fenced into the property, a serious case of the measles in the house, zombie juveniles rampaging out the back, and un-workable toilet. Oh, and my sister hates me like she’s never hated anyone before. My life sucks.
It took a long time to clean up the poop stream. We used every bottle of bleach and disinfectant that we had, along with all my beautiful new fluffy towels and the bedcover off our bed. All that poopy mess is now sitting in the middle of the front lawn, attracting flies and other grotty bugs, but we didn’t know what else to do with it. We definitely didn’t want to leave it in the house. We have a washing machine but Liam hasn’t gotten around to hooking it up yet and to be honest, I wasn’t keen on making my first load of laundry a shit load.
“This is disgusting,” Organza complains. “I can’t believe you’re making me pee in a Tupperware bowl.” She carries the offending object, complete with spill proof lid, past where I’m sitting on the sofa and opens the window to tip it out. “Gross.”
“You could’ve put that down the sink in the bathroom, Organza,” I say mildly. “No one forced you to tip it out the window.’
“I’m not going back in that bathroom. Don’t be ridiculous.” She gives me a superior look worthy of the Queen of England and stomps past me, headed back to the relative sanctuary of her bedroom. She is seriously miffed about the dastardly end to the life of her bedcover but I acted on instinct. If she wanted to save her princess blanket she should’ve stuck around long enough to help make the sensible and responsible decisions instead of high tailing it out of there.
Liam, sensing my down frame of mind, reaches over from the seat beside me and squeezes my knee. “You did good. Thanks for being there.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice. You all made yourselves scarce and that poop stream wasn’t about to stop by itself.” I can still taste the bile in my mouth when I think of it. That will definitely go down as one of the grossest moments of my life and there have been a few to pick from.
“I can’t face poop,” he says. “Never have been able to. My cousin Adele had a baby and he pooped his diaper when he was sitting on my knee. I threw up everywhere.”
I watch as Reece sticks his head out of his bedroom, looks around the living room, and disappears again. “What’s Reece up to?”
“I don’t know. Do you want a coffee?”
“Yeah.” I get up and follow him into the kitchen. “Does it come in any other color than brown?”
“Ha.”
I watch him get the mugs out of the cupboard and set up the coffee machine. “This is not the life I imagined for us when we bought this house.”
“Have you told your mother yet?”
“No, I’ve been putting it off.” I pull my phone out of my pocket, reluctant to dial her number but well aware that she has to know. It rings suddenly, frightening the life out of me, and I’m surprised to see who’s calling. “It’s Mr. Devall.”
“Answer it.”
“Hi, Mr. Devall.” I wait, still surprised that he’s called me. I never expected to hear from him again.
“Ellie… I’m so, so sorry about the way I left you yesterday. I couldn’t sleep a wink last night thinking about you poor kids and that awful situation you have going on there. Are you up for a visitor? I’d like to come back and have a chat with you and Liam.”
“Yes, please do. Liam’s just making coffee.”
“Great, see you soon.”
I wrinkle my nose at Liam as I hang up from the call. “He said he wants to talk to us. I wonder what that’s about?”
“I’ll guess we’ll soon find out.” Liam pulls back the blind while we’re waiting for the coffee to be ready and peers out toward the street. “Shift change. Officer Leonard’s gone and that guy who likes to shoot is back.”
“Can you see Annabel-Mary and Mary-Annabel from there?”
He drops the blind in confusion. “Huh?”
“Those two zombie girls who are fond of hanging out by the oak tree. Are they still there?”
“No. There’s no one by the oak tree. They must all be around the back.” He stares at me for a long moment then he opens his arms for me to walk into. It feels nice to be hugged for a few seconds. We’ve kind of lost sight of ‘us’ over the past few days and I tell myself that it’s important I don’t forget. This move to Gypsy Creek was supposed to be all about Liam and me and that’s the way it should be.
We’re still standing there, wrapped up in each other, when someone taps at the door. I go to let Mr. Devall in while Liam finishes making the coffee. Mr. Devall is standing nervously on the step, shifting his feet around as if it’s too hard for him to remain still, and he gives me a limp smile. “Hi again.”
“Hi. We’re glad you came back.” I led him into the living room as Liam carries out the coffee mugs. “You’re lucky they opened the gate and let you through the barricade.”
“I think they’re more worried about what might get out rather than what can get in.” He sits down in his favorite armchair again, moving slowly and carefully as if his bones hurt, and accepts the coffee mug that Liam offers him. He sniffs the air but, perhaps wisely, he doesn’t mention the peculiar odor. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”
“There’s a lot of that going around.” I smile to try to lighten the atmosphere but he’s looking very grave and serious.
“I did some reading too. About Bedeliah Farnsworth and that whole sorry business.”
Reece sticks his head out of his bedroom door. “Hi, Mr. Devall!”
Mr. Devall’s hands shake so violently that his coffee laps over the edge of his mug and spills on his lap. He gives Reece a wild-eyed Nostradamus half-smile. “Errrr, hello. I hope you’re feeling better today.”
Reece gives him an odd look and disappears back into his room. I clear my throat to regain Mr. Devall’s attention. “You were saying?”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
It seems Mr. Devall has been up half the night researching and making enquiries with people on the other side of the world. He tells us he has a lot more information for us about the history of this property and I’m glad. Knowledge is power, especially when you’re dealing with vintage serial killers and undead children.
Mr. Devall managed to contact the person who’d written the article, an Englishman named Harry Jerusalem. He told Mr. Devall that he’d spent some time in Gypsy Creek and the surrounding areas a few months back and he’d developed an interest in the local legends and folklore. The Bedeliah Farnsworth case was an obvious stand out and he started to do some serious digging. He’d finally stumbled upon a woman, Madeleine Farnsworth, who claimed to be a direct descendent of Bedeliah.
“Do you know her? Madeleine Farnsworth?” I know that Mr. Devall has lived here for a long time. Surely, he knows everyone there is to know in Gypsy Creek?
“I’ve heard of her but I don’t know her well,” he admits. “She lives outside the town limits, over in Lucky’s Swamp, and she keeps to herself. You could never call her a people person. In fact, most people know her as a hermit.”
“So why was she so willing to talk to Harry?”
Mr. Devall shrugs and sips his coffee. “Who knows? Maybe he struck her on a good day. I guess even hermits need someone to chat with every now and again. Anyway, she gave him some old letters that throw some more light on the incident. According to the letters that Bedeliah wrote to her sister, she very much felt that she was the wronged party in the entire sorry affair.”
&nbs
p; “Wait.” Liam isn’t about to let that pass. “How could a woman who murdered children in cold blood claim to be the innocent party?”
“Not the innocent party, young man. The wronged party. She wrote in her letters that Jonathon Wheeler led her on, promising to leave his wife for her, but he never did.”
“A tale as old as time,” I murmur. I’ve seen enough made-for-TV movies to know that much.
“Right.” Mr. Devall nods at me, clearly pleased that his words are making sense. “He also provoked and taunted her, telling her that she’d never have children of her own and she would die barren and alone.”
“Not a nice guy.” I feel a tiny pang of sympathy for Bedeliah. Of course I don’t condone what she did but she clearly didn’t have a pleasant life.
“Not the best representation of my gender, no. Anyway, as Bedeliah was of a delicate mind to begin with, Jonathon’s taunts sent her over the edge and set her off on her murderous spree. Her execution was carried out on this land if the records are correct.” He gestures over at the window. “I suspect she might’ve been hung from a branch of that oak tree you have out the front of the house.”
I sit forward eagerly. “The zombie kids won’t come past it. Maybe it’s because they know there’s still a trace of the woman who killed them around that spot.”
“Could be.” Mr. Devall places his empty coffee mug on the coffee table and turns to Liam. “I phoned Madeleine. She told me she is a practitioner of the Ancient Arts. She’s given me a small incantation that might help return those children to their peaceful eternal slumber. I’m going to need your help as there are several essential items that we need to assemble.”
An idea bomb is about to detonate in my brain. “If the incantation can deal with the zombie children will it have any effect on Obidiah Wulfstan?” I’m still trying to light the wick of that idea and I’m not quite sure what the resultant explosion will reveal but I’m willing to go with it for now. “Can we get rid of him, too?”
A volley of objects hit the side of the house as I finish speaking and the overhead light flashes on and off. Mr. Devall ducks his head and grimaces. “I don’t think he likes what you’re suggesting.”
Reece gives an outraged cry from his bedroom, setting us all on the edge of our seats. Liam jumps up and runs into the bedroom. “What is it?”
I’m about to get up and follow him when Reece pushes past him and stands in the doorway, red-faced and furious. “He’s gone!”
I exchange a glance with Mr. Devall. “Who’s gone, hun?”
Reece stamps his foot. “Nostradamus! He was here and now he’s gone.”
Liam walks out of the room and confirms Reece’s statement. “The horse has gone. There’s just an empty space where it usually sits.”
Something else hits the house and I’m suddenly aware of the sound of choked giggles and stringy laughter. Acting on a hunch, I walk over to the window overlooking the garden and pull back the curtain. “I think I know where your horse is.”
The others crowd around me and we look out at the yard. Nostradamus is sitting in the middle of the grass and the zombie kids are swarming all over him, tugging at his mane and fighting to be the one to sit in the saddle.
I can’t help smiling at their antics. “They’re kind of cute in a weird, horrible way.”
Mr. Devall shudders beside me, obviously not sharing my sentiments. Reece leans over and bangs on the window with his fist. “Hey! Get off my horse!”
Annoyed by his comment, I give him a gentle shake. “Hey, you weren’t bought up to be selfish. They probably never had nice things. Learn to share.”
He does an Organza pout but says nothing. Mr. Devall, looking decidedly green, stumbles away from the window and takes refuge in his armchair. I draw the curtain back across the window and return to my own seat as Reece scuffs his way back to his bedroom and Liam collects up the coffee cups.
And that’s when the situation cranks up a notch.
Chapter Forty
It’s hard to tell what happens first. Maybe every different thing happens at exactly the same time or maybe they don’t. It’s just too hard for my brain to sort it all into neat little boxes with color-coded labels.
Anyway, I’ll start with the biggest one first. It’s probably easiest that way. The house begins to rock and roll, as if we’re in the middle of an enormous earthquake, and the roof tiles rattle and the floorboards creak. I feel like we’re suddenly standing on the deck of a sailing ship in the middle of a raging storm. Organza pounds down the hallway and bursts into the living room while the rest of us desperately try to hold onto the sliding pieces of furniture to steady ourselves. “What’s going on?”
she screams. “Make it stop!”
The next thing that happens, as we’re all trying to find a foothold in the constantly listing house, is the starting up of a sound very similar to a heartbeat. It wraps itself around us, growing louder by the second. Have you ever watched one of those documentaries about babies in the womb? Along with the soft, red glow that envelops the unborn, there is the constant sound of their mothers’ heartbeat to add to their prenatal bliss. It would be soothing right now, if it wasn’t so terrifying.
And speaking of a red glow… the third thing that happens is the appearance of a dark mass in front of the kitchen doorway. In the midst of the blackness are two glowing red eyes that I unfortunately know too well. Obidiah.
Liam, who was about to walk into the kitchen when all of this began, is the one closest to Obidiah. He dropped the coffee mugs when the listing and rocking started but now he does this high-pitched squeak unlike any sound I’ve ever heard from him before. He twists away and scuttles sideways across the sloping floor, Liam the sand crab. It would probably be enough to make me giggle if I wasn’t trying so hard to remain upright.
The TV topples from its spot on the new cabinet and crashes to the floor while the discarded coffee mugs clatter and roll around like marbles. Mr. Devall, who is holding onto the back of the armchair and gazing at Obidiah with absolute dread, whimpers and pants. I wish I could go over there and comfort him but it’s impossible given the current state of the floor.
Organza and Reece have somehow ended up in a bundle of arms and legs over by Reece’s bedroom door and they’re sliding this way and that as the house tips and rolls. Organza is mewling like a kitten but her squeals are soon drowned out by the ever-increasing sound of the heartbeat.
Then everything stops. Just like that. There is no longer any movement, any sound. I tentatively take my hands off the sofa that I’ve been clinging to and look back over at the kitchen. Unfortunately, Obidiah hasn’t vanished along with his tricks. The dark mass has grown bigger, the texture thicker and bulkier, and those eyes are looking straight at me.
“Obidiah!” Reece extricates himself from his sister and bounds across the floor, his arms outstretched and his face alive with happiness. Honestly, I’d love to know what my brother sees when he stares into the face of that monster.
Thump. Mr. Devall hits the floor in a dead faint and this time I do run over to check on him. He’s breathing lightly and his eyes are tightly closed, which is probably for the best.
Organza pushes herself to her feet and brushes off her clothes. She throws one of her famous death stares at Obidiah, apparently unconcerned by his potential to squash her flat or otherwise destroy her on a whim. “That wasn’t very nice. We’re all practicing courtesy in this house.”
A low rumble of laughter emanates from the center of the mass and those red eyes blink before Obidiah vanishes once more. Reece stops in his tracks and drops his hands down by his side, the very image of defeat. “Awww. You scared him away.”
Mr. Devall is beginning to stir and Liam wobbles across to join me by his side. “What happened just then?” he asks in a voice that sounds as shaky as his legs look.
“He wanted to show us just what he can do. It was a warning. He heard us plotting to dispel the zombies and he knows he’s next.” I smile down at M
r. Devall as he slowly opens his eyes. “Hello again. I bet you’re glad you called in today. There’s always something new and different happening in the House of Friedlander.”
Liam goes to gather up the broken coffee cups and make another brew while I help Mr. Devall back into the armchair. Reece pushes the rest of the furniture back into place, tutting and shaking his head at the sight of the broken TV, and then he goes into a huddle with Organza in the corner. I can’t hear what they’re whispering about but I have bigger onions to fry right now. “Mr. Devall, I think we need to do that incantation as soon as possible. If we can get rid of the zombie kids, we can then focus on dealing with Obidiah. You said you wanted Liam to help gather the things you need. Is there anything I can do?”
He shakes his head, befuddled and bewildered. Santa with an occult hangover. “If I hadn’t physically lived through that I wouldn’t believe it were true.”
“Yes, as I said there’s always something new and exciting happening around here. Liam is just making some more coffee and then we’ll make a plan.” I peer into his eyes, forcing him to meet my gaze so I know he’s heard what I’ve said. “Is that okay?”
His eyes skitter over toward the door and I can tell he’s thinking of escaping. I lay my hand on his and try out my best pitiful and pleading expression. I have a wish list, Santa. “Please. You’re the only one who can help us.”
Chapter Forty-One
As it turns out, Madeleine Farnsworth’s incantation requires a few simple household items to support the chant. Most of them are easy to find and are things we already have on hand – a plastic basin, an unopened bar of soap, a knife, and a red cloth. However, we also need a sprig of rosemary, a freshly laid egg, and a jar of sunshine. Yes, really.
Organza, who has stopped giggling and whispering with Reece, wanders over to see what we’re doing. She offers to go outside and get the jar of sunshine, saying it’s easier than most people think. According to her, all she needs is a screw top jar and a nice patch of sunlight and the job will be done in a jiffy.
The Nothing House Page 13
