The Drifter

by Richie Tankersley Cusick

  She lay there for a long time.

  Her gown was soaking wet, and she was chilled to the bone. No one came looking for her.

  At last she sat up again, rubbing one muddy hand over her tear-streaked face. Her hair was damp and wild, and she was shivering uncontrollably. She thought about the skeleton in her bed, and suddenly she couldn’t help it—she laughed out loud—a high-pitched sound that echoed hysterically all around her.

  Somehow she knew that when she finally went back to her room, the grisly remains of Carolyn Glanton would be gone.

  Gone without a trace … as if it had never been anything more than a dream.

  Carolyn walked back to the house.

  She climbed the stairs to her room, and she stood in her doorway and gazed silently at her bed.

  And she was right.

  23

  THE ROOM WAS HAZY WITH MORNING LIGHT.

  Stiff and groggy, Carolyn turned from her window and peeked cautiously out into the hall. Earlier, when she’d checked, Joss’s door had been closed, but now it stood open, his room empty. Taking a deep breath, she went down to the kitchen. She sat at the table nursing a hot cup of coffee and concluded that she was indeed losing her mind.

  So I dreamed last night, too—just like I dreamed the noises and the ghost in the attic and falling down the stairs.…

  Except she hadn’t been sleeping when she’d found that thing in her bed. And she hadn’t slept the whole rest of the night, only sat there in the rocking chair, her mind numb and vacant.

  She fingered the chain around her neck. She felt the thin outline of the key beneath her shirt.

  But the body was there, and then it wasn’t. So somehow I must have dreamed it. Just like I dreamed those footsteps in the hall … and I guess I also dreamed—

  The paper.

  Starting up from the table, Carolyn remembered the torn piece of paper and how she’d put it under her pillow for safekeeping. She dashed back to her room and grabbed the pillow from her bed, running her hand along the sheet.

  “Good morning,” said a voice from the doorway.

  Carolyn slammed the pillow onto the bed. Joss was standing there watching her, and she’d never even heard him coming. For a long moment he stared at her, and she stared back. Then slowly she straightened.

  “Good … morning,” she forced out the words.

  “How’d you sleep?”

  Carolyn stared at him, her heart thudding. He knows … he knows everything … he knows I was in his room last night—that I heard him out in the hall—that I’ve found his paper—

  “Are you okay?” Joss lifted an eyebrow.

  But of course he doesn’t know—he’s not a mind reader—how could he possibly know—

  “Yes, I slept fine.” There’s nothing under my pillow—the paper’s gone—“Just fine. Thanks.”

  He nodded. “You want some breakfast?”

  But that’s impossible—it can’t be gone—I remember putting it right here last night before I found that—

  She shook her head. “I … I made coffee earlier, but I’m not very hungry right now.”

  Did I dream that part about the pillow, too? Or did someone really take the note? Just like someone took that dead thing from my bed—

  “I smelled it when I woke up,” Joss said, and Carolyn jumped.

  “Smelled what?”

  “The coffee. Is something wrong?”

  “No. Of course not.” Did you sneak into my room and did I really fall asleep in the chair, only I never knew it—“Why?”

  “You look a little funny, is all.”

  “No.” She smiled. “No. Like I said, I’m really okay. I’m just … you know. Making the bed.”

  Joss gave her a puzzled glance and left. She heard him go down to the kitchen. Standing there in confusion, Carolyn felt as if she was going to start screaming any second and would never be able to stop.

  Calm down … calm down … this is crazy … don’t jump to conclusions.

  Carolyn went through every piece of furniture in her bedroom … examined every inch of her purse … her clothes … even her shoes. She forced herself to strip the bed and shake out every cover, then she balled everything up for the laundry.

  No paper. Nothing.

  She stood for a long time gazing out the window into the gray, desolate morning. And then finally she turned around and went downstairs.

  Joss was at the kitchen counter sipping from his coffee cup.

  “Where’s Nora?” he asked as Carolyn walked in. “Isn’t she usually here by now?”

  “Maybe …” Carolyn took a deep breath. “Maybe she slept in this morning. Maybe she was tired.”

  Joss acknowledged this with a vague nod. “Have you called the hospital yet? Talked to your mom?”

  Yes, I already called the hospital very early when I first came down—or was that yesterday—no, I’m sure it must have been an hour or so ago—wasn’t it?

  “She’s feeling better. But they still don’t know exactly when she can come home. It may be another week yet.”

  “Are you going to see her today?”

  “She told me not to. She said it wouldn’t be worth the long drive there and back again just to be able to stay for an hour.”

  Again he nodded. She watched his eyes lift … settle on her face. Two coal black mirrors with no reflections.

  “It probably won’t be too much longer, though,” she said stupidly. “That she can come home, I mean.”

  “Isn’t that great,” he murmured.

  Carolyn stared at him. His face was expressionless.

  “Did …” She swallowed hard and tried to keep her voice casual. “Did you hear any weird noises last night?”

  Joss turned his back to her. He seemed to be looking at something out the window, but all Carolyn could see out there was fog.

  “What kinds of noises?” he asked softly.

  “I don’t know. Something woke me. I got up, but you weren’t in your room.”

  He was silent a moment. “What were you doing in my room?”

  Carolyn thought quickly. “I wasn’t in your room—the door was open.”

  Still he said nothing. She sat at the table and twirled her cup between her palms. Her coffee was ice cold.

  “Anyway”—she sighed—”I guess it was just the wind.”

  She didn’t expect any comment. So it surprised her when he said, “I took a walk.”

  “A walk?”

  “Yes. Late. That must have been where I was when you tried to find me.”

  Again she made her voice casual … so carefully, carefully casual. “In the dark? In the fog?”

  “I was”—he smiled faintly—“looking for ghost lights.”

  Carolyn watched his back, the set of his shoulders.

  “And did you find any?”

  Joss didn’t answer. He tossed his coffee into the sink.

  “I’ve got work to do,” he said.

  The day dragged endlessly. Nora arrived in her usual sullen humor and disappeared upstairs. Carolyn wandered restlessly through the house, starting at every sudden noise. She watched the road and listened for the phone, wishing she and Andy hadn’t argued, wishing he’d get in touch with her. She was certain that if she didn’t get out of the house soon, she’d explode. She finally decided to drive to the village herself, but when she went out to the car, she found Joss under the hood, where he informed her that the car wouldn’t run.

  Uneasily Carolyn went back into the house, pausing to gaze at distant clouds. It looked like rain, and the air held that tense expectancy of something unknown about to happen. She decided to tackle the brochure Mom had been planning. She sat down at the kitchen table and tried to think of ways to make Glanton House sound inviting.

  The hours crawled by. She realized she hadn’t heard sounds of Joss working and wondered nervously where he was. Nora left for the day. The wind blew harder around the eaves of the house, and the rooms grew damp and chilly. Checking the parlor, Ca
rolyn found the fire almost out and the woodpile down to nothing on the hearth.

  The house loomed around her, sad and secretive. I’ve got to get out of here—I can’t stand it anymore.

  After slipping on her jacket, she headed off toward the cliffs. The wind reddened her cheeks and tossed her hair, piercing through her clothes with bitter intensity. Driftwood, she thought suddenly. I’ll get some driftwood to use in the fireplace.

  She was more careful this time, moving along the rocky overhangs. Out over the water dusk was gathering, the darkening sky churned by angry clouds. Carolyn tilted her face up, wishing for warmth, but feeling only the wet wind of a brewing storm.

  She found the path without too much trouble. Far below the beach was still littered with chunks of wood and trails of seashells and clumps of seaweed tangled on the outcroppings of rocks. Carolyn pressed herself against the cliff wall and started down.

  She could hear the rhythmic call of the sea, the giant waves rushing and receding, and each time they smashed against the sharp rocks, a fine spray of salt settled around her like a cloud. Wiping her cheeks, she hunched her shoulders against the wind and tried not to think about the awesome power of the ocean.

  The steps seemed narrower today—steeper somehow—slimy and slippery with spray. Holding her breath, Carolyn tried to grip the escarpment as she went down, but her fingers slid uselessly away. It was hard to keep her balance, and it seemed to take hours to make the descent. The view down made her dizzy, yet at the same time she felt a peculiar exhilaration as she finally touched bottom.

  She came out into the cove and stood for a moment looking around. She could see the little pocket of beach tucked back beneath overhanging cliffs, bordered by a jagged row of rocks which rose several yards out to sea. Waves crashing against the break-front spewed over the barrier and drenched her to the skin. Shivering, she began to pick her way among the driftwood, choosing the biggest pieces she thought she’d be able to carry.

  She worked as quickly as she could, moving off along the beach, keeping one eye nervously on the clouds. She hadn’t walked this far last time, and as she followed the rugged line of coast, she suddenly realized how quickly the fog was rolling in—not wisps of it, but great gray waves—rapidly cutting her off from the rest of the world.

  Carolyn stopped, anxiously scanning the ocean. The waves had been growing more restless as she walked, but now one in particular began to lift itself up to alarming proportions and hurl toward her. Carolyn turned and ran back, scrambling around a jutting section of cliff wall.

  She didn’t expect to see someone else there on the beach … the figure standing half in shadows, gazing down at something sprawled across the rocks.…

  Joss turned around as she came up behind him.

  Turned with a quick look of shock and surprise, and then took a step backward, so that she could really see now, the thing lying there at his feet …

  The throat was ripped open—flesh and bone and lungs scooped out—a gory, bloody mess …

  Yet Carolyn still recognized the face.

  She recognized it as it gazed up at her through long silvery hair and clumps of seaweed, and as she turned away, her stomach heaved violently, and she cried over and over again—

  “Molly—oh, God—Molly …”

  24

  “CAROLYN!”

  “Get away from me, Joss! Don’t come any closer!”

  Carolyn stumbled backward and nearly fell. She could see him moving toward her, his eyes dark and narrowed—and behind him she could still see what was left of Molly McClure.

  “Carolyn, don’t be stupid—I found her like this—”

  “Like you found my mother? Like you found me in the attic? Like you found Hazel before you killed her?”

  “Hazel? What the hell are you talking about?”

  Overhead the sky exploded with lightning. Carolyn felt rain on her face, and she lifted her voice above a burst of thunder.

  “Molly saw you that night, and that’s why you had to shut her up, isn’t it? Because you’re back again, and she recognized you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Joss strode toward her, his hands outstretched as though to calm her down. Glancing wildly around, Carolyn spotted a huge chunk of driftwood and grabbed it.

  “I’ll use this if I have to—I swear I will—now stop!”

  Joss did. He shook his head, cheeks flinching in anger.

  “Something’s going on here, Carolyn, but I’m not the one you should be worried about—”

  “I’m not going to listen to you anymore! I’m going to call the police!”

  “No, wait! Don’t go back to the house!”

  But Carolyn turned and ran. Behind her she could hear the thud of his feet on the sand, and then he had ahold of her arm, trying to turn her around. Screaming, she managed to pull out of his grasp. As Joss wrestled her for the club, she jerked it free for a split second and swung it hard into his ribs.

  She heard him gasp—saw him stagger. Dropping her weapon, she wheeled away, but he grabbed her from behind, and they both pitched into the water. Carolyn lashed out at him as he tried to pin her arms. She felt a sting at her neck, and sand ground into her skin.

  “Stop it, Carolyn—just listen to me!” Joss began, but again she managed to wriggle out of his grasp and sprinted up the beach.

  The rain was pouring now, the sky as black as midnight. Carolyn kept running, terrified he would follow, not knowing where she was headed. As she put distance between them, she kept waiting for him to chase after her, but when nothing happened, she finally slowed down to catch her breath.

  She had no idea where she was—how far she’d gone.

  As she flattened herself against the face of the cliff, she gazed back at the winding stretch of jagged coastline and saw only a hazy outline beneath billowing layers of fog. Panic went through her, but she forced it away, reminding herself she couldn’t get lost as long as she followed the shore. Straining her eyes through the heavy mist, she thought for one second that she might have seen Joss in the far, far distance, but then he disappeared into the shadows, leaving her alone.

  I’ve got to get back to the house—I’ve got to call the police—

  Once more she started off, trying to find the path that would lead her up the cliff to safety. She didn’t want to admit she was lost—didn’t want to admit she must have passed her house long ago—totally disoriented now in a maze of fog and rain and shadows.

  She never expected to see a light.

  Just the faintest flicker … a quivering blur through the darkness.

  Ghost light …

  Carolyn watched it, too terrified to move. It glimmered weakly … faded … came to life again—and for one split second she could almost feel ghostly arms clutching her with cold, dead fingers. She tried to scream but couldn’t. The light moved sideways, then back, bobbing through the fog.

  Slowly Carolyn followed it.

  Exhausted, soaked through to her skin, she felt herself moving closer and closer, drawn by some hideous curiosity. As she drew near to it at last, it suddenly sputtered and went out.

  Carolyn stared in disbelief. She couldn’t have imagined it—it had been there only a second before. Fighting back panic, she flung herself toward it and came face to face with a solid wall of rock.

  Of course—a cave!

  Her heart raced in her chest. Pressing her hands against the rock, she felt her way along for several feet, then froze as sounds floated eerily out to her through the fog.

  “You shouldn’t have lost that paper! That half of the note was all we had—”

  “Forget the paper—I know it by heart anyway.”

  Carolyn felt a wave of giddiness wash over her. She could see the mouth of the cave now—a yawning black hole throbbing with light and shadow from within. She could see the wooden crates heaped around the entrance … and even with the wind and rain and crash of the sea, she could recognize the voices that were arguing.


  “Suppose she finds the paper!” Nora snapped. “Suppose she finds the treasure!”

  “We’ve practically torn that house apart, and we can’t even find it!” Andy threw back.

  They both sounded angry. As the storm raged louder around her, Carolyn could only pick out bits and pieces of their conversation.

  “I want her gone,” Nora said. “Joss—”

  Thunder drowned out the rest. Flattening herself against the rock, Carolyn crept closer, straining to hear. The crates blocked her way, so she carefully climbed on top of them, leaning as close as she could to the entrance.

  “—going to find that treasure—last thing I do!” Nora’s voice rose sharply. “—captain hid—somewhere in the house—worth a fortune!”

  Andy faded back in. “—more important things to worry about.”

  “—not my fault they wanted this shipment tonight!” Nora’s tone was icy. “—not my fault—wasn’t planned—wasn’t part of the schedule, but I always come through, don’t I? Not like some—”

  “If you mean Molly, it’s your own fault she’s starting to talk again. How many times have I told you, you can’t depend on her to keep her mouth shut—even if she is full of rum and pills—”

  Another crash of thunder cut through their discussion. Frustrated, Carolyn inched closer. Andy and Nora were sounding more agitated by the minute, and their shadows quickened along the entrance to the cave.

  “And wouldn’t everyone be shocked to know she’s your sister?” Andy gave a sharp laugh. “—touching the way you look after her. Blood thicker than water and all that—”

  “Shut up and work!” Nora yelled. “The boat’s coming—eleven. We’ve got all these guns to move by then—expecting shipment—Canada—morning—”

  “Don’t worry. They’ll get their shipment—always do.”

  “—getting too dangerous. I want her taken care of, understand?—not going to wait anymore—”

  “Be patient,” Andy snapped at her. “Carolyn’s tough—but she’s not impossible.”

  “—just the thing to break her,” Nora said.

  Fear pounded sickeningly through Carolyn’s veins. As shadows moved across the cave entrance, she gasped and drew back just in time. Andy hurled a crate out onto the sand. Nora stood just behind him, her dark hair loose around her gaunt face, dressed in pants and a bulky sweater. As the thunder subsided for one brief instant, Carolyn pressed back into the shadows and heard clearly what they were saying.