The Blackham Mansion Haunting (The Downwinders Book 4)

by Michael Richan

  “When I went to the front door, the kitchen appeared.”

  “Did you go inside the new house that appeared?”

  “No, I was frightened. And then I woke up.”

  Lorenzo turned to Emma. “I remember now,” Emma said, looking at him. “I had the same dream!”

  “Did you enter the new house in your dream?” Lorenzo asked.

  “No. With all that has happened, I thought it best not to.”

  “Your daughter was bolder than you both, and she crossed into the duplicate houses,” Lorenzo said. “She is trapped in one, just as I suspect Henry to be.”

  Emma began to cry once again. Alton went to her side.

  “Emma, listen to me. This is very important. Regardless of what the doctor tells you, you must pack up your children and your husband and your things and leave this house, today. You must not spend another night here. Under no circumstance are you to fall asleep again inside these walls, do you understand?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “Where will we go?”

  “You have the means. Go to Parowan, or Cedar City. Salt Lake. Anywhere you can go to stay. I believe that if either of you fall asleep again in this house, the fate that has befallen your husband and daughter may well fall upon you.”

  “My God!” Emma cried. “Does that mean there’s nothing we can do to save them?”

  “I don’t know,” Lorenzo said. “But we must stop adding to the dead. Tell me you will comply.”

  “I will,” she replied. “We’ll begin packing immediately.”

  “Do you mind if I stay until the doctor leaves? I’d like to hear his prognosis.”

  “Please do.”

  He lifted Frida’s hand once again, feeling on her wrist for a pulse.

  Hide, little Frida. Hide.

  ▪ ▪ ▪

  The doctor had no more to say about Frida than he’d been able to say about Henry; some kind of coma, perhaps brought on by something they ate. He mentioned seeing people in this state when they’d attempted to make Mormon Tea out of local sagebrush, and having chosen the wrong ingredient, wound up nauseated and sometimes unconscious. He advised constant monitoring and cool washcloths for the head in an attempt to revive them, but in all else he was quite useless.

  Lorenzo spoke with Emma outside Frida’s room after the doctor left.

  “Unless you can come up with something, I fear the worst,” Emma said.

  “I am racking my brain,” Lorenzo replied. “The only thing that continues to give me hope is what Jacob said to me moments before he disappeared. He thought he’d found some type of solution, and was urging me to convince the group to conduct a séance even though it seemed risky.”

  “Did he tell you any more?” Emma asked. “What his solution might be?”

  “No, there wasn’t time. The Sheriff was here, and circumstances prevented me speaking to him at length.”

  Emma lowered her head. Lorenzo knew she wanted to cry, and was trying to remain strong.

  “The best I can think of is to visit Jacob’s father, in Parowan,” Lorenzo continued. “Jacob had consulted with him just before that night. He might know what Jacob’s plans were.”

  Emma looked up, a ray of hope flashing across her face. “Oh, would you? Please?”

  “It’ll take me away for the rest of the day. You must pack up and leave, regardless. Do you know where you will go?”

  “There is a hotel in Cedar City that Henry and I used frequently when this house was being built. We’ll go there.”

  “Transporting Henry and Frida may be a challenge.”

  “I’ll send Alton to Sister Farnsworth’s place. She has a son and a daughter who will help get us on our way. She’s still distraught over Espy, and I know she’ll be encouraged to see us leave this place.”

  “Very well,” Lorenzo said. “Can I check in on her, once more before I leave?”

  “Please,” Emma replied.

  Lorenzo opened the door to Frida’s room. The colorful decorations on the walls and the collection of stuffed toys in the corner were a discordant counterweight to the comatose child in the bed. As he approached her, Lorenzo saw a peach colored rose, lying on the child’s nightstand. He recognized the color from the bushes in the yard.

  “The doctor brought the rose?” Lorenzo asked.

  “No, Alton,” Emma replied. “It’s Frida’s favorite color of all the roses we have. He laid it there, hoping it would be the first thing she sees when she opens her eyes.”

  Lorenzo felt the revelation of what he must do hit him between the eyes as though he’d been struck with a log. He felt himself step back in reaction to the idea, physically reacting to the shock.

  “Lorenzo?” Emma asked. “Are you alright?”

  He reached for the rose and picked it up. “May I borrow this?”

  “Of course,” Emma replied.

  Lorenzo turned and left the room, walking quickly. Emma followed.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he turned and walked down the hallway until he arrived at the front entryway. He placed the rose on the side table that hugged the wall, normally used for gloves and umbrellas.

  “This rose must remain here while I enter a trance once again,” Lorenzo said. “Alton must not move it. Can you locate him and the two of you work outside for a moment?”

  Emma looked up at the ceiling, and Lorenzo recognized it as concern for Frida, upstairs. “I will be quick, Emma. It’s important.”

  “Of course,” she replied. “I’ll find Alton and we’ll remain out back until I hear from you.”

  “Thank you,” he said, walking into the parlor on the left, sitting on one of the sofas. He waited a couple of minutes to ensure that Emma and Alton were safely outside, then he entered the River.

  He drifted to the kitchen, where he opened the door. Beyond it was another front entryway. No rose, he thought as he observed the space. He entered it, and drifted through, wanting to move quickly and hopefully avoid Bingham. He made his way to the kitchen of the second house, and opened the outer door. Another front entryway appeared, this one also absent a rose.

  It won’t be in any of these, he thought as he walked through the doorway, moving quickly through the living room and around the séance table in the central room, until he reached the kitchen. He opened the door once again.

  That’s the fourth house, he thought. Still no rose.

  He entered it, and heard a thump in the room beyond the parlor to his left. It was the same thump he’d heard outside the master bedroom days ago, when he’d first encountered Bingham.

  If he finds me now, I will have to wait to conduct this experiment again, he thought. I need to move quickly!

  Lorenzo drifted rapidly through the house to the right, through the rooms and to the kitchen. He stopped in front of the door, hearing footsteps behind him. He opened the outer door.

  There, in the front entryway of the sixth house, was the peach rose he’d relocated from Frida’s bedroom, sitting on the side table exactly as he’d arranged it.

  Behind him he heard the footsteps stop. He turned to look at the entryway from the central room. Bingham was standing in the doorway, but he’d stopped. He was watching him. The wild eyes and the crooked smile were still there, but he wasn’t pursuing him. He seemed more interested in looking at him.

  Lorenzo looked back at the doorway, the rose just steps away. He considered stepping through the threshold, but stopped. He turned back to Bingham.

  He wants me to walk through, Lorenzo thought. He’s waiting for me to do it.

  Lorenzo dropped from the River. He stood, walked to the entryway, and picked up the peach rose. Then he walked back up to Frida’s bedroom and placed it on her nightstand.

  Thank you, he thought, as he turned to find Emma and Alton.

  Chapter Twelve

  The house with the rose, Deem said. It was the original?

  That’s the theory I developed, Lorenzo re
plied. At the end of all the duplicate houses, it loops back to the original.

  And if you complete the loop? Winn asked. Walk into the original?

  A duplicate house is created, and you’re trapped in it, Lorenzo answered. Frida had gone exploring, and looped back. That’s why she was trapped, whereas her brother and mother were not. The duplicate is made using what’s inside the house at the moment it’s generated, which is why none of the duplicate houses contained the rose except the original — when they were generated, no rose was upon the side table. That’s what happened to Henry, Espy, Langford, and Jonas; they each passed through the loop, and duplicate houses were generated at the beginning of the series. That’s why I found Jonas in the first house instead of Abraham. The new house pushed the others out farther. Langford completed the loop just before his brother, and that’s why his house was further out than the one that held Jonas.

  But what about Abraham? Deem asked. He didn’t complete a loop.

  I’ve had a long time to think about this. I’ve come to believe that Abraham, Joseph, and Althea were taken by Bingham, body and soul, and Bingham created a house for each of them, like cells in a spider web, where he could keep their bodies while he fed on them. Things changed when Henry conducted the séance against my wishes. I believe their efforts were so focused and concentrated that they pierced the veil — things were already thin at the mansion, with the years of séances that had already occurred. They pierced it with enough strength that they were able to see the houses just like you and I do, and that made the entire mansion much more accessible to the common mind. I also believe it started the house’s ability to spawn copies of itself, to expand its web. Henry, Espy, and the Orton brothers were trapped by completing the loop as they explored within the duplicate mansions. Bingham didn’t have to do a thing, just find them within their individual prisons. And with the opening they created, Frida, simply by falling asleep and thereby altering her state of consciousness, was able to enter the houses. She made her way through them and completed the loop, trapping herself.

  What became of her? And Henry? Deem asked.

  I received word from Emma that they both passed, while she was in Cedar City. I remember thinking, at the time, that it had been inevitable. Each trapped inside a duplicate house, it was only a matter of time until Bingham found them and destroyed them, causing their physical bodies to die.

  And now there are dozens of houses, Deem said. It’s been over a hundred years, Lorenzo, and people have come into this place exploring, taking a dare to spend a night inside. Sleeping. It’s added to the number of duplicates over the years.

  That would explain why the houses changed from derelict to this, Winn said, looking around. Each was a copy produced at the time the person in them completed the loop.

  What about you? Deem asked. How did you wind up trapped?

  Lorenzo sighed. The things I discovered festered in my mind after Emma left the house. I went to see Jacob’s father, and he told me that he’d given his son a substance which would collapse the houses into one. Jacob was going to execute his father’s plan the night he disappeared. I presume he failed. I prevailed upon his father to let me try to finish Jacob’s duties, and he agreed, but the plan was slightly different in my case. Jacob was to have burned the substance with elemental fire in four corners of the house. Jacob’s father could provide me with elemental fire rightly enough, but not the means to transport the substance to be burned. He’d given Jacob a tin box with special properties; it was able to make the substance usable while in the River, and without the tin, he could give me all of the substance on God’s green earth but it would be useless as I couldn’t transport it. We devised upon a plan where I’d locate Jacob, just as I’d found Abraham — and perhaps the tin would still be on him. If it was, I would use it to complete Jacob’s task, and the houses would all collapse into one, the original.

  What then? Deem asked.

  That would bring all of the bodies back into one house, and eliminate the duplicates.

  Yes, but what about Bingham? Winn asked.

  Jacob’s father felt it might kill Bingham in the process.

  Winn turned to look at Deem. She looked skeptical, and he saw her recognize the same look on his face.

  What? Lorenzo asked. You do not think it would have worked?

  We still haven’t heard why you’re trapped, Winn replied.

  Well, Lorenzo said, continuing with his story, I planned it out, as much as I could. It took several days, but by the time I was ready to go in, I’d prepared several contingencies. The mirror, for one; it would provide a way to communicate to someone gifted if need be, and I left instructions with my wife, Tabitha, that my journal was to pass to my brother, similarly gifted, should something happen to me. Jacob’s father gave me a device which I use to map the houses — that’s how I knew to direct you to my location. Once I had everything planned, I reentered the mansion, intent upon locating Jacob.

  What happened? Deem asked.

  I chose the wrong night, Lorenzo replied. It had been a stormy day. The winds from the canyon can sometimes become quite strong at certain times of the year, and the evening I sat here, preparing to drop into the River, I could hear them rattling the windows of the house. I’d placed two roses; one on the side table in the front entryway, and the other in the kitchen on the counter just inside the door.

  I hunted for hours. I had just a few more houses to search when I made my mistake. I entered a kitchen, and saw that the door to the next house’s front entryway was already open. I thought it strange, since the doors were normally closed. I looked inside, and seeing no rose on the table, I stepped through. It was only after I’d walked past the side table that I noticed the rose, lying on the floor. I’d walked back into the original house, completing the loop. I was trapped in my own duplicate.

  The wind? Deem asked. The wind blew the rose off the side table?

  In the many years I’ve had to rethink everything, I believe Bingham set me up. I’d been elusive for him, and I believe he knew he’d never catch me with a chase or by pouncing on me from the shadows. He’d seen me drop out of the River multiple times, and knew how quickly I could leave. No, he knew the only way to trap me was if I trapped myself. He opened that door and saw my rose. If the wind didn’t do it, he did it. Either way, I found myself unable to leave the place.

  With Bingham unable to get in? Winn asked.

  Lorenzo removed an object from his pants pocket and held it up for Winn and Deem to see. It was a small leather square about an inch and a half wide, with colorful embossing and a fringe. He waved it a little in the air as it hung from his fingers.

  What’s that? Deem asked. It reminded her vaguely of the circle emblem Awan had used to wall off thoughts.

  My salvation, Lorenzo replied, and my damnation. This is the arrowhead I placed in my pocket, thinking it would offer some degree of additional protection. Once inside here, it became this. And it’s the only explanation I have for why Bingham is unable to enter the house I’m trapped in. It saved my life — this life, at least — but I’ve been kept prisoner here for so long, there are days I wish he could get in and finish the job. Bingham used to come to the door and taunt me. For years he tried to find ways to pass through and couldn’t, so he regaled me with horrific stories of what he’d done to the others. I’d hide in other parts of the house at first, but over the years I became so bored I actually sat across the threshold from him and listened as he described his grisly killings, always accompanied by the threats of what he would do to me if he ever got in. Eventually he tired of me and I saw less and less of him. I’d watch as additional houses were added. I stopped paying attention to that after a while, too.

  He paused, turning the leather emblem over in his hands. Who knows, perhaps it protected me from the bombs, too. If what you’re saying is true, they changed Bingham into whatever he’s become. But here I sit, same as always.

  Did your brother — the one who was supposed to rec
eive your journal — own an 1830 Book of Mormon? Deem asked.

  He did, Lorenzo replied. A family heirloom.

  I’m afraid your brother died in Left Hand Mine, near Escalante, Deem said. I found his satchel. It was a trap, designed by Porter Rockwell’s gang to kill gifteds.

  Well, Lorenzo said, rising to his feet. That would explain why the mirror remained silent all these years. Until you came along. And now that you’re here, you must complete what I was unable to finish. You must find Jacob, and collapse the house. Bingham will be finished, and those of us still trapped here will finally be free. He looked down at the ground, emotions overtaking him.

  When he raised his head back up, Winn saw his eyes widen. He was staring at something behind them.

  Drop out of the River, now! he shouted, lurching forward but stopping at the barrier.

  Winn felt the blow, and was faintly aware of Deem at his left, turning to see whatever had landed on him from behind. He was going down, headed to the floor. His first instinct was to brace himself from falling, and it distracted him from leaving the River. He landed on his side, rolling to face whatever was on top of him.

  Winn! Deem called, but he hoped she was smart enough to just leave. He knew he should close his eyes so he could concentrate on dropping out, but the sight above him was so bizarrely unusual he wasted precious seconds trying to comprehend it.

  The man had landed on top of him on all fours. Where the man’s head should be was only an open orifice, bloody and gaping, and out of it slipped a long, sharp prong that positioned itself above his chest. It paused for a second, then plunged into him.

  I’m leaving the River, he thought, hopelessly trying to escape as pain raced through his body. I’m dropping out. I’m…

  Then he was gone.

  ▪ ▪ ▪

  Deem felt the vibration from her phone, tucked tightly into her pants pocket. She was on the interstate, speeding ninety miles an hour back to Leeds. She lifted her hips to create an angle where her hand could slip into her pocket, and fished out the phone. It was Winn.