The Blackham Mansion Haunting (The Downwinders Book 4)

by Michael Richan

  I’ve been here so long, I’m not sure I even know how to move on. I feel like a ghost that’s been trapped and can’t figure out how to break its pattern. Bingham will do that for me, if I can’t do it myself.

  You could stay, Deem suggested. Haunt the house properly.

  Lorenzo looked away. She was afraid she might have said something inappropriate.

  I’m sorry, Lorenzo, I didn’t mean to upset you.

  It’s alright, Deem. You’re young. You don’t understand.

  Understand what?

  Lorenzo turned his head away from the mirror, and stepped back from it. Then, the light on the page slowly faded, and the mirror once again turned into the drawing, sitting static on the page.

  Deem wanted to slam the book closed, angry that yet another ghost from the past didn’t see fit to explain things to her.

  Instead, she left the book open, trying to understand what Lorenzo meant, and why her youth would explain her inability to comprehend his meaning.

  ▪ ▪ ▪

  Deem took a long sip from her Big Gulp and set it back in the Jeep’s cup holder. Winn hadn’t said much as they packed up. He’d raided Carma’s shed for tools, and he loaded up three large cinderblocks that had been stacked by the side of the shed, left over from a project so old Carma couldn’t remember what it was. Deem checked on David and packed fresh flashlights. She received two rocks from Carma along with instructions on how to use them to produce elemental fire. Then she re-loaded a spent Big Gulp cup with fresh ice and Diet Coke from Carma’s refrigerator, hoping the caffeine would help keep her frosty once they reached Paragonah. It was almost 1 AM.

  The ride had been quiet, but as they passed Toquerville, she had enough.

  “Are you going to tell me?” she asked.

  Winn sighed. “Why do you think he asked you leave?”

  “I don’t know. He has a thing against girls.”

  “Highly doubtful. I personally think he’s in love with you, but knows there’s nothing he can do about it.”

  “So he sent me upstairs for love? Please. What did he tell you?”

  “I can’t say, Deem.”

  “Look, we’re going into this together. I need to know what you’re planning to do, or I’m just running around in the dark. That’s completely unacceptable.”

  “Once we collapse the houses, I’ll take care of the Creepsis,” Winn replied. “Just leave that to me.”

  “Ah, yes, you’re so big and handsome; you’ll ride in like Vin Diesel and save me from the monster, will you?” Deem said, feigning a southern accent.

  “If you want to look at it that way, yes,” Winn replied. “Lyman gave me a weapon, and showed me how to use it.”

  “What is it?”

  Winn removed the Y shaped pipe from his jacket and handed it to Deem. She took it and looked into the two open ends, then shook it. It rattled.

  “Please don’t do that,” Winn said, cringing. “Here, give it back to me.”

  “How does it work?” she asked, not handing it over.

  “I’ll aim it at the Creepsis, and drop something into one of the other openings.”

  “Drop what?”

  “This,” Winn replied, removing the rock that looked like coal.

  “Let me see,” Deem said, reaching for it.

  “Nope,” Winn replied, tucking it back into his jacket. He was pleased to see it didn’t rub off on his fingers. “You’ll trigger the thing. You’re not trained on it.”

  “You drop that black rock into it, and what happens?”

  “Something comes out the other end. I’m supposed to point it at the Creepsis, drop in the rock, and wait for a combustion to take place. It’ll take a few seconds to work, so it’s important that the Creepsis not see what I’m doing and figure it out before it happens.”

  “Is that why Lyman wouldn’t tell me about it? He was afraid I’d spill the beans?”

  “Yeah, that’s it,” Winn replied, wanting the conversation to end. “He was afraid you’d give us away. Since I’m a blank, I can handle it.”

  “Oh, the blank thing. People sure are taking advantage of your blankness, aren’t they?” she asked sarcastically.

  “Listen, Deem, can we stop this? I’ve got this piece of it handled, trust me. We need to collapse that house, and we’ll do it together. Then, stand back and let me do my thing, alright?”

  “Just tell me one thing.”

  “What?” he asked, exasperated.

  “Tell me there’s a really good reason why I can’t know. Because the blank thing is total bullshit.”

  Winn sighed. “Yes, there’s a really good reason.”

  “He told you what that reason is?”

  “It was obvious to me. And yes, trust me, it’s really good. Very good.”

  She folded her arms in front of her, aware that it was making her look like she was pouting. She wanted Winn to know just how peeved she was with being kept in the dark.

  “OK,” she said. “I guess my life is in your hands. When the Creepsis shows up, it’s all yours.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Be sure to take care of it fully and completely without any help from me.”

  “I will.”

  Deem paused. “A really good reason means you think it’s something I shouldn’t know. Or can’t handle knowing. Which is it?”

  “Deem,” Winn said, “I’m not even sure I like knowing. In fact, if I could erase it from my memory after this is done, I’d do it.”

  “That bad?”

  “Yes, that bad.”

  She sat back in the seat, and unfolded her arms. She could tell Winn meant it.

  “You were attacked by the Creepsis, just like David,” Deem said. “If things go for you like they did with David, you’re going to be passing out like he did. That’s the last thing we need at the moment of truth.”

  “Then we need to get this done before that happens,” Winn replied.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Winn carried the cinderblock into the house and set it beside the front door, just inside the entryway. Then he took two metal straps and fitted them through the brick, nailing the straps to the floor. He hoped the old, rotted wood would hang on long enough to help secure the blocks in place. Then he rose and walked to the hallway door, where Deem had already placed a second cinderblock. He could hear her dropping the third one in the kitchen.

  Once he’d secured the other two, he joined her in the living room. “I think this room’s best, don’t you?” he asked her. “We’ll be able to see from two different directions, the kitchen door that leads into the séance room, and the hallway from the stairs that leads into the front entryway. We can catch it coming from either side, and we won’t be trapped.”

  “Sure,” Deem said. “Makes sense.” She was studying the notes on her phone, memorizing the two paths Lorenzo had relayed to her.

  “You got them down?” Winn asked.

  “I think so,” she replied, pocketing the phone. “They’re both deep. One’s seventeen houses in, the other is eighteen.”

  “Great,” Winn replied. “I suppose we have the idle youth of Paragonah to thank for all these duplicates.”

  “Probably,” Deem said, sitting on the floor. “All it took was someone coming in here and falling asleep on a dare. Each generation tries it, not believing anything an older generation might say about the place, and assuming the stories of the Creepsis are all made up.”

  “The town should just bulldoze the place,” Winn replied. “Once we’re done.”

  “I doubt they ever will. It’s so far out of town, and there’s no development around. They’re not going to pay money to demolish it when they can just leave it here to rot. Besides, the land is owned by someone.”

  Winn sat down next to Deem, cross-legged on the floor. He turned off his flashlight, and the room became dark. He looked at her, seeing her figure just inches away. “You ready?”

  “Follow me,” she said, and dropped into the River.
/>   She led him through the houses in quick succession; five times, then twice through the hallway door, following a similar pattern they’d used to find Lorenzo. They turned in the kitchen and used that exit to pass through the house eight more times. Winn marveled again at how the house improved in condition with each iteration, but he had no time to stop and absorb details; Deem was moving fast.

  As they entered the ninth front entryway, Deem stopped. If we were to go to the kitchen, we should find Lorenzo in the next house, she whispered.

  Should we go talk to him? Winn asked.

  The route he gave me calls for using the hallway door, Deem said. We can socialize with Lorenzo after this is over.

  Winn followed as Deem led the way to the hallway. They walked quickly but quietly, not wanting to create any noise that might alert the Creepsis to their presence. The hallways were now fully furnished with an elegant carpet and dark wallpaper, and the sound of their footsteps seemed muffled compared to the creaking of the older versions of the house. Winn found himself turning to look behind him frequently, afraid it might be silently following them.

  OK, Deem said as they approached the exterior door. Let’s see if this was Jacob’s house.

  She pulled the door open, revealing another kitchen. There was no cinderblock on the ground, and it was fully furnished. Winn watched as she stepped through, and then he followed. It seemed exactly like the house they’d just left.

  We’ve got to find his body, Deem said. It’s got to be in here somewhere.

  They passed through the kitchen and into the central room. The séance table sat with its elegant covering, ready for use by the Spiritualists. Past the table and into the living room, then through the front entryway and to the parlor — each room was empty and silent.

  As they approached the junction where the lower hallway turned to the left and the landing for the stairs turned to the right, Deem went for the stairs and Winn started down the hallway. When Deem saw he wasn’t behind her, she stopped.

  No separating! she whispered. Not this time!

  Winn stopped and rejoined her. That’s how she lost David, he thought. I don’t blame her.

  They walked up the stairs and began searching the rooms. They came up empty until they reached the master bedroom. Inside was a body hanging from the ceiling, its musty clothes holding together the bones of the long-dead victim.

  He liked to hang them here for some reason, Deem said.

  That’ll help when we collapse the house, Winn replied. If he really can animate them, most of them will be up here, in the room farthest from where we intend to be.

  Winn reached into the pockets of the corpse, searching.

  Is it there? Deem asked, stepping back to look into the hallway.

  Winn kept rummaging through the pockets, his hand running into pens and other small objects. This is all normal shit, he said. No tin box.

  Check the floor, Deem suggested. Maybe it fell out.

  Winn dropped to the floor. The richly upholstered rug was stained directly below the corpse. He looked to see if the object might have rolled under furniture. There was nothing.

  This isn’t Jacob, Winn said, standing. Just our luck, with a fifty-fifty shot we hit dry.

  His second option is just two houses over, Deem replied. Come on.

  They made their way back downstairs. Deem used the front door, and after checking for the existence of a cinderblock, walked through. Winn followed her. Bingham opened a door, let the wind blow that rose off the table, he thought. That’s how he tricked Lorenzo. He might try to sabotage the bricks, too. But he can’t change the state of the house. It’ll look like a dump, like the dilapidated heap of wood it really is. Even if he takes the cinderblock, there’s still that.

  Deem walked through to the next kitchen, and led them to the hallway. She opened the exterior door, revealing another kitchen.

  This has to be it, Deem said. If Jacob isn’t in here, then Lorenzo was wrong.

  Or you messed up the sequence to get us here, Winn replied.

  I’m pretty sure I didn’t, she replied. If he’s not here, we’ll work our way back to Lorenzo and have a talk.

  She stepped through, and Winn followed. The house looked and felt exactly the same; filled with furniture and expensively adorned with decoration. They scanned each room as they passed, and when they reached the top of the stairs, Deem made her way first to the master bedroom.

  She grabbed the door handle and swung it open. It was empty.

  He’s in another room, Winn said.

  They backed out and began checking the other rooms upstairs. Each was empty.

  That leaves the rooms off the hallway, Deem said, and they descended the stairs quietly, moving quickly to the hallway and checking each of the rooms there.

  When they reached the last one, Deem threw open the door. Winn already had a sinking feeling that it would be empty, too, and wasn’t surprised as the door creaked open, revealing Emma’s sewing room; a large quilt was suspended over the floor, half completed.

  Fuck! Deem said. Did we skip anything?

  They walked back down the hallway. Maybe we should check closets, Winn suggested.

  Most of the bedrooms don’t have closets, Deem said. They have armoires. Closets weren’t fashionable when this house was built.

  We check the armoires, then.

  As they walked into the stairwell, Winn turned and stopped.

  Wait, he said.

  What?

  There. He pointed to a small closet door, under the stairs.

  Why would he stuff the body in there? Deem asked.

  Winn walked to the small door and opened it. It was a tiny room that looked suited to storage, and it was very dark at the back. He felt claustrophobia rise in his throat.

  I’m going to walk back in there and see if I can find anything, Winn said.

  It’s so dark, Winn! You’ll be searching with your hands!

  Only way we’re gonna know for sure, he replied, and stepped inside the small chamber. He reached out, feeling only air and seeing only darkness. He felt tightness in his chest, the same tightness he remembered when he pressed through narrow openings in caves.

  It’s not a tight cave closing in on me, he thought. It’s a closet. Soldier on. We’ve got work to do.

  He stepped forward, his fingers stretching to make contact with something to prevent tripping and falling. He moved his arms from side to side, trying to cover more space.

  Anything? he heard Deem call from behind him.

  Not yet, he said, just as his hand brushed against something soft. He felt it give and move away from him.

  Fuck, he thought, his mind racing, sure he’d just awoken the Creepsis.

  Whatever he had touched now bumped into him again, then pulled away.

  He felt his legs taking a step back. I’m still here, he thought. Nothing pounced.

  He moved forward again, brushing against the soft surface that swung away. A body, he thought. A hanging body, swinging.

  Here it is! he called back over his shoulder, and he moved closer to the corpse to search it, still in the dark. Inside the jacket lapel pocket he found a long, thin bulge, and when he removed it he felt the cold metal. This is it! he thought, and backed out of the closet, where the dim light in the stairwell allowed him to show the find to Deem.

  It was an oddly-shaped box, circular on both ends. There were sliding lids over each section.

  Hold it flat and let’s open it, Deem said. Don’t let what’s inside fall out!

  Winn turned the tin until it was face up, and tried to slide open one of the lids. It wouldn’t budge.

  He reached for the other, and it slid open without a hitch, revealing a small amount of powder in the bottom of the tin chamber.

  Wow, that’s not a lot, Winn said.

  Kari said it doesn’t take much, Deem replied. If we’re careful, we can still divvy that four ways.

  Winn slid the lid closed. Then let’s get started.

&nbs
p; They walked to the quilting room and went to the farthest corner, where Winn reopened the tin and reached inside to pinch out a small amount of the powder. He rubbed his fingers together over the wooden floor in the corner, and a tiny amount dropped to the floor.

  Good luck lighting that! Winn said. I don’t think it’s enough.

  Deem removed two rocks from her pocket, and began striking them together. Each strike produced a bevy of blue sparks that danced over the floor. She continued to strike them until a wisp of acrid smoke rose from the powder. They watched as a thin line of bluish flame began to eat its way through the pile.

  Carma said you don’t really get any kind of flame with elemental fire, just sparks, Deem said. When something ignites, it’s a slow, small burn, like embers.

  Looks like it worked, Winn said, watching as the powder turned to ash. That’s one down.

  They moved to the parlor, where they repeated the process. Winn was careful to ensure that he left enough for two more applications, and Deem worked the rocks until sparks ignited the powder and another column of smoke arose.

  Then they walked to the kitchen and performed the same steps; Winn dropped the powder, checking the tin to make sure he had enough left for their final corner, and Deem stuck the rocks, producing sparks of elemental fire. One of the sparks eventually landed on the powder, slowly consuming it. It was like watching the tiny remnants of fire crawling through a piece of paper after the initial flame had gone out.

  One more, Winn said.

  They relocated to the living room, moving to the extreme corner. Winn knelt down and opened the tin, intending to invert it and let the rest of the powder fall out and onto the floor. As he turned it over, they heard a thump behind them, and Winn jumped, sending the powder flying.

  Shit! Deem said, as Winn turned to look up and into the room.

  Something’s in the kitchen, Winn whispered.

  Deem was busily trying to scrape what powder had managed to settle on the floor into some semblance of a pile. Help me! she said, and Winn turned back. He began scraping the floor with his fingers, and a small pile began to reform.