by Amy Cross
"And?" I ask.
"Nothing so far."
"Then I think you're safe. You knew, last time, didn't you?"
She nods.
"So you'd know this time. I understand why you're worried, but I really think it's gone. Just don't go crazy sitting here and listening to the silence in your own head, okay?"
She smiles.
"I mean it," I continue. "You could really lose your mind."
"So what caused it all?" she asks, changing the subject. "Was it really what the voice said? Was there just so much pain in that house that eventually it became alive?"
"Sounds nuts," I reply. "Who knows? Something made it happen. I'm taking six months off from work to research the place. I'm going to really dig back into the local records and find out who owned the house after it was first built. I've got one lead so far; there's a family called the Willards who apparently owned the land, but apart from that, it's slow going."
"And you don't know the name of the guy who held us there? Or the thin-faced man?"
"The thin-faced man might have been a guy named Albert Clements from New York. He went missing not far from here, about thirty years ago. As for the guy with the cattle-prod, I have no idea."
"Do me a favor," Holly says. "If you ever find out the rest, don't let me know. I just want to forget about the whole thing."
"I don't know if you can do that," I tell her.
"I'm going to try," she says, and I can tell from the look in her eyes that she knows it's a hopeless task. I doubt anyone could go through what these women went through and ever hope to forget their experiences. She just needs to learn to deal with it better. "Wait here a moment," I say, getting up and heading back over to Joe Kukil.
"She okay?" he asks.
"I don't know. I don't think she's really let it sink in. She spent the best part of fifteen years with something living inside her mind. That's enough to drive anyone crazy. I'm going to see if I can pull a few strings and get her some help from a friend at Harvard. I'd hate to see her life ruined."
As Natalie and Samantha start walking away, I turn and look over at Holly. She's sitting on the bench, staring into space, and I can tell exactly what she's doing: she's emptying her mind, suppressing all her thoughts so she can listen to the silence and make sure there are no other voices hidden in her head. I understand why she's doing it, but at some point she's going to have to accept that the creature is gone. If she doesn't, she's going to lose her mind.
Epilogue
"Over there!" I shout, as the car speeds along one of the rural roads a few miles outside the town limits. A huge field of sunflowers is flashing past, but I'm looking for something else. I'm looking for the old house.
"Bullshit," Ed replies, not even bothering to slow down. "I'm calling it now. Total bullshit."
"I swear to God," I continue, staring at the fields as they flash past in the early evening gloom. "There used to be this house out here. It was totally creepy, like it was hidden under some trees and you could barely even see it. I can't remember exactly where it was, but it was somewhere on Willow Road. It's where those women were kidnapped."
"What women?"
"It was years ago," I sigh, settling back into my seat. "My Dad told me about it."
"So where is it, then?" he continues, grinning like an idiot. "Where's this spooky old house? I swear, Katey, if we see it, we'll totally stop and take a look. Not too long, though. The gig starts at nine."
"It's here somewhere," I reply, pissed off at him for not taking me seriously. "Maybe if actually slow down for a few miles, I might be able to see it."
"I'm not slowing down. These old roads are the only place I ever get to really open the engine out."
"It's here," I insist, still looking out at the darkness. "I'll show you the sites when we get home. There's loads of pages about it. There's pictures, too. I saw the house a few times when we drove past when I was a kid. Those three women were held captive there in the basement by some guy."
"Sounds fucked up," Ed replies.
"Up there!" I say, spotting a turning to the right. "I remember now! It was right on that corner! Just slow down for two seconds, Ed! Please! I swear to God, the house is right here!"
Sighing, he slows the car down a little. As we approach the turning, however, I see that the house has gone. The whole area is exactly how I remember it, except that the house on Willow Road, the one from the news stories, has vanished.
"See?" Ed says. "No house."
"It was here," I say, "and -" Suddenly I notice something over by the trees; there's a person, standing right where the house used to be. It's as if she's staring at the fields of sunflowers. As we drive past, I make eye contact with the woman, but she has the strangest, saddest look in her eyes, and she's holding her mouth wide open. Before I can say anything, we've gone too far and I can no longer see her, but I swear she was right there.
"You okay?" Edward asks.
"Did you see her?" I reply.
"Who?"
"The woman!"
He laughs. "I wasn't looking. There's nothing there. I'm sure there was once, but it's obviously long gone. Stop getting so worked up!"
Turning, I look out through the back window, but all I see is the dark road receding into the distance. I know what I saw, though. Where the house used to be, there was a woman. She looked to be in her thirties, and she stared straight at me. There's a part of me that wants to get Ed to stop the car, so we can go back and see if she needs help. Something about her, though, made me feel uneasy. Turning back to look at the road ahead, I fall silent. I no longer want to get Ed to come with me to look around where the house is, or where it used to be. I just want to get out of here. As we keep driving, however, I can't stop thinking about the look on that woman's face, and I can't stop imagining a silent voice screaming for help.
The Night Girl
Book 1:
The First Shift
Prologue
"Isn't this where that woman died?" I ask, staring out through the rain-spattered window as my father parks the car. It's late at night, and Crestview Retirement Home looks suitably gloomy in the squall, with just a few lights flickering in the darkness. I've walked past this place so many times and barely even noticed it; now, somehow, it's become my destination, and I really don't want to be here.
"That was six months ago," my father says, sounding tired.
"But still," I say, turning to him, "it's not a good thing, is it? I mean, it makes you wonder what's really going on in there if some woman can just die like that. Do they think about the safety of their staff at all?"
He stares at me, clearly not impressed.
"What I mean is, there's obviously a question mark over the security of -"
"Nice try," he says, forcing a smile. "One-off incidents aside, there's nothing wrong with Crestview. Do you think I'd send my only child to work there for the summer if I thought there was any danger of an ax murderer stalking the corridors?"
"It was an ax murderer?" I say, clutching my backpack as I stare wide-eyed at him.
"No!" he replies, leaning over and opening the door next to me, "it was not an ax murderer, as you well know." He sighs as he glances at the dashboard clock; it's 9:51pm, just two minutes before my first shift is due to begin. "Juliet, I really think you should get going. You don't want to be late. You have to set a good first impression, so they can tell you're a reliable person. If they don't like you, they won't want to keep you on."
"I don't want them to keep me on," I say.
"Come on," he replies wearily, "time to get going."
"It's not gonna take me nine minutes to get to the door," I point out.
"Better to be early than late," he says, unbuckling my seat-belt and giving my arm a gentle push. "We've talked about this, Juliet. There's no way I'm going to let you sit around all summer, twiddling your thumbs and spending all your time chatting to people online. That's not how things work in the Collier household, okay? You're an adult no
w and you're going to work and earn money, and you're going to save most of that money for when college starts in a few months. Laziness is not an option."
"I can find another job," I point out, as the clock rolls over to 9:54pm. "One where I don't have to become completely nocturnal."
"I gave you two weeks to find your own job," he replies, "and you got nowhere."
"I got that job at the mall," I remind him.
"And how long did that last?"
I take a deep breath. "Twenty-seven minutes," I say, "but it wasn't my fault. They didn't give me any training, and they -"
"Whatever," my father says, interrupting me. "It's time to do some real work. Trust me, it'll be good for you. Most kids have started working way before their eighteenth birthday. It's my fault for cutting you too much slack. You've got no idea how privileged you've been so far, but a dose of work in the real world is going to set you straight. Now get moving. You don't want to be late on your first day. In the meantime, if you need me, you know where to find me."
"Fine," I say, getting out of the car and slinging my back-pack over my shoulder. With rain pouring all around, I turn back to face him. "Good night," I say sourly. "Sleep well in your big, comfortable bed while your daughter toils away in a retirement home for minimum wage."
"I'll pick you up at 8am," he says, pulling the door shut. I step back and watch as the car pulls away, and then I turn and hurry along the driveway that leads to Crestview's main entrance. I'd never realized how big this place is, but I can see now that there are darkened sections leading off in both directions. Reaching the door, I find that it's locked, so I ring the bell and wait, sheltering under a small awning. Glancing over at a nearby window, I stare at the darkness and suddenly realize there's a person in there, watching me. A shiver runs down my spine, but moments later I hear a key being turned in the lock and I turn to see a middle-aged bald man opening the door.
"Juliet Collier?" he says, not looking particularly enthusiastic as he checks his watch. "Right on time. Come on in."
Chapter One
Today
"You'll have to excuse me for just a minute," the man says as he re-locks the door behind us, "but here's your first lesson." He slides the second lock across. "Always keep the external doors and windows fastened. Some of the residents can be a little flighty, and if one of them wanders off, we could have a huge problem on our hands, especially when the weather's so bad." He secures the third and final lock, before turning to me. "Do you know what our main job is here at Crestview?"
"Caring for people?" I ask tentatively.
"Avoiding lawsuits," he says flatly. "Lawsuits from litigious families. If one of the residents got outside in a storm like this, we could be sued for millions." He pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in before holding out a hand. "My name's Charles Taylor, by the way. We spoke on the phone. I'm the manager of Crestview."
"Hi," I say, forcing myself to smile as I shake his cold, clammy hand. "Juliet Collier."
"Nice to meet you, Juliet," he continues. "Take a seat and I'll be with you in just a minute. I have a couple of pieces of paperwork to finish." With that, he turns and heads into a nearby office, leaving me to wander through to what turns out to be a high-ceilinged reception area with a bunch of sofas arranged around a small coffee table. The first thing I notice about the place is how warm it is, but I guess that's because old people get cold easily; the second thing I notice is that there are three dark corridors running off in various directions, which I assume must be three of the four wards. I suppose the lights are low since it's late and the old people are in bed, but as I sit down on one of the sofas, I can't help feeling a little overcome by the hushed silence of the place.
After a few minutes of glancing around the room, I pick up a magazine from the coffee table and start flicking through the pages. It's all about plants, which I guess is what people like to read about in a place like this. Spotting a plant next to the sofa, I reach over and feel the leaves, finding that it's made of plastic. The old people probably don't even notice; I suppose they're not the most observant types. Putting the magazine down, I glance along one of the dark corridors and suddenly realize that there's someone at the far end, standing in the darkness and staring in my direction. I can't make out his or her features, and I guess it's just one of the residents up and about. Still, it feels a little creepy.
"Hi," I say, waving meekly.
"Okay, Juliet," says Charles as he emerges from his office. "Let's go and find your colleague for the night and so she can give you a quick run-down of your duties." He leads me away from the reception area and along one of the corridors. "I have to leave in five minutes," he explains, clearly in a hurry, "but Lizzie's a great worker, she'll show you the ropes." We reach a junction in the corridor and Charles looks left and right before sighing and taking a phone from his pocket. "Just a minute," he mutters as he pulls up a number and dials. After a moment, he puts the phone away. "I guess she's busy with a patient," he says. "Come on, let me show you the rec room."
He leads me into a small, warm room with a number of chairs spread around, all of them facing a TV in the corner. So far, this place is kind of disorientating. All the long, darkly lit corridors seem to be the same, and I already feel as if I'm lost in some kind of warm, plastic labyrinth.
"This is the recreation room for the green ward," Charles explains. "Each of the wards has a room like this, so the residents can gather and socialize. It's important that they don't just sit in their bedrooms and wither away, you know? We need to keep their minds active, or they can end up sinking into lethargy and from there it's a short trip to the grave. Anyway, I think Lizzie might be on the red ward, so let's go and find her."
As we hurry along another corridor, I see a set of double-doors off to one side, with a large padlock over the handles and some tape down the middle. I pause for a moment and take a look through the small window, seeing a brightly-lit but deserted corridor; it looks just like the rest of the corridors, except that the lights are on full and the padlock on the door suggests someone really doesn't want anyone going in there. I give the door a gentle tug, but it's firmly secured.
"That ward's not in use," Charles says, putting an arm around my shoulder and steering me away. "Come on, we have to find Lizzie, I should have left already."
Adjusting my backpack, I follow him to the red ward, which turns out to be just as dark and empty as the green ward.
"Huh," Charles says, trying to call Lizzie again but still having no luck. "This kind of thing happens sometimes, Juliet. The night shift tends to be fairly uneventful, but occasionally something happens that requires your attention. Lizzie's probably helping one of our residents. The important thing, though, is to make sure you answer your phone if it's at all possible. As the night progresses, you need to make an effort to stay in touch with your colleague." He sighs. "Okay, we're clearly not going to be able to find Lizzie before I leave, so let me find you something to do."
"Sure," I say under my breath, already feeling overwhelmed.
"Take a look around this rec room," he continues, checking his watch again. "If you find anything that needs cleaning, give it a wipe." He opens a small cupboard to reveal a set of cleaning supplies. "I don't really know what's in here, but I'm sure you'll find something. Just make sure you don't leave anything out that someone could trip over, okay? I promise you, Lizzie will be through very soon to go over your duties with you, but the basics are pretty simple. You're here to support the trained medical professional who's on duty, but the most important thing is that you remember that you yourself have no training and therefore can't provide direct medical care. You're just an assistant. A night girl. Once again, we're in danger of a major lawsuit if an untrained worker attempts to perform medical duties, so if you're ever in any doubt, always ask Lizzie, okay?"
"Totally," I say, starting to feel that this place is a kind of fly-by-night operation. I guess I'm just the dogsbody, hired to carry things and clean up af
ter the residents.
"There are some forms you have to sign," he continues, "but Lizzie can get you to do that in the office before you leave. Okay, I have to head off, but just hang on in here for a few minutes and I'll make sure Lizzie comes through. Don't worry, she's one of the nicest people you could ever hope to meet. You'll be fine." Checking his watch again, he hurries to the door. "Just work hard and use your common sense, Juliet, and you'll have no problems. Welcome to the team!" With that, he runs off down the corridor, and I stand alone for a moment, just listening to his footsteps racing away. After a moment, I hear him speaking to someone on the phone; it sounds like he's telling someone he'll be late to meet them at a restaurant.
"Okay," I say quietly to myself, turning to look around the low-lit room. All around me, there's nothing but silence and emptiness. It's as if I've been dumped in the middle of a large building and just left to get on with whatever work I can find, which isn't exactly how I expected to start my first shift here at Crestview. Walking over to the cupboard, I pull out a duster and a container of spray-polish, and figure I might as well do a little light cleaning. If this Lizzie woman is going to show up eventually, I might as well look busy when she arrives. I set my backpack down on a nearby chair, turn the lights up so I can see what I'm doing, and start running the duster along the top of the TV. The place is thick with dust, so I guess no-one's been in here to clean for a while.
Reluctantly, I start giving the room a proper clean, occasionally glancing up to see if there's any sign of Lizzie. After an hour, I'm still cleaning and I'm still alone. Suddenly, however, I hear a shuffling noise in one of the nearby corridors; pausing for a moment, I hear it again, and I realize there's definitely someone nearby. When the shuffling noise continues, I realize it sounds as if one of the residents has got out of bed. Figuring I should go take a look, I quickly put the cleaning supplies away and hurry along the corridor. Sure enough, when I get to the next junction, I spot a hunched figure in the distance, disappearing around the next corner.
