by Amy Cross
"Of course I will," I say. Once he's gone, though, I realize that I was lying. As much as my rational mind insists that there's nothing to fear about Devil's Briar, and as much as I tell myself that there's no such thing as ghosts, there's a part of me that thinks differently. That feeling of being watched was so intense and so vivid; it's hard to believe it was all in my head. Then again, the human mind is a powerful thing. Taking a series of deep breaths, I finally manage to calm myself down. I button my shirt back up, figuring I'd rather sleep with my clothes on tonight, and then I walk over to the window. Outside, the main square of Devil's Briar is shrouded in the dark of night. It's so strange to see all those empty buildings, and to wonder where the people went. Bill's right about one thing: the entire population of a town doesn't just vanish.
Grabbing Bill's rucksack, I sort through the packs of prepacked sandwiches he's brought for us, and I finally pull one out and set it on the table by the bed. Once Bill is back from the bathroom, I go and use the toilet before coming back to the room and getting back onto the bed. Bill seems to have settled down for the night already, which I guess means he's giving me the cold shoulder. Typical. He can be so childish sometimes; I just want to grab him and shake him, and tell him he needs to grow up and talk to me like I'm an equal. I swear, he's the kind of man who views a wife as a kind of assistant.
Although Bill has got under the bedsheets, I decide to sleep on top, so I settle down. I'm not particularly hungry, so I leave the sandwich for now and try to get some sleep. Something about this bed, though, feels very wrong, and I find myself tossing and turning. Even after Bill starts to snore, I find that I'm wide awake. I stare up at the ceiling for a while, waiting for that feeling of being watched to return. Thankfully, I manage to stay calm and although I remain awake for several hours, I never once feel as if there's someone in the room with us. I guess I really was just letting the situation get on top of me. Damn it, I wish I hadn't let Bill realize I was getting scared.
Eventually checking my watch, I see that it's just after 2am, which means I've been awake in bed for almost three hours. Still not feeling tired, but not fancying the idea of getting up and going for a wander around the hotel alone, I reach out for the sandwich. In the dark, I struggle to find the packet before finally my hand brushes it and I hear it fall onto the floor. With a sigh, I reach down and try to find the damn thing. My fingers move through a half-inch layer of dust, but the sandwich packet remains obstinately out of reach. I lean over the side of the bed, but I can't see anything on the floor, which means it must have somehow slipped under the bed. Sighing again, I reach under, feeling slightly disgusted by all the dust. We probably should have given the room more of a clean before we slept in here; God knows how much dust there must be in the air, and how much is going to get into our lungs.
Still not finding the sandwich packet, I sigh yet again and get up, grabbing the flashlight and crouching by the bed. I switch the light on and shine it across the floor, finally spotting the packet between the bedside table and the bed itself. I reach down and grab it, brushing off the dust that has already accumulated, and then - as I'm about to get back up - I happen to shine the flashlight under the bed. I freeze instantly, my blood running cold as I realize what I'm looking at. Under the bed, looking straight at me with its hollow eyes and its toothy grin, there's an entire human skeleton.
Epilogue
1925.
"I trust you have recovered from your ordeal," Thomas Paternoster says as he enters my office. "As I understand things, Lawrence Evans was something of a ruffian and you were lucky to escape unscathed from the encounter."
"Every town has a black sheep," I reply, closing the door and leading him to my desk. "I like to think that God was with me in that room, and ensured that I would face no real danger. On a lighter note, I'm afraid you must excuse my deficient hospitality. Since Adelaide's sudden passing, I have not yet had time to find a suitable replacement. It can be so difficult to find good help these days."
"I understand completely," he says, taking a seat. "If my niece Victoria can be of help, please don't hesitate to ask. She's a good girl, and very reliable. She lacks experience, but I'm sure a man such as yourself could train her up quite quickly." He pauses. "I'm sorry, Mayor Caster. I don't mean to put you in an uncomfortable position. I'm sure you -"
"It's a very kind offer," I say hurriedly, before he has time to change his mind. "I would be extremely grateful to have Victoria help out around here. There is a small stipend that comes with the role, of course."
"Entirely unnecessary," Mr. Paternoster replies. "Please, allow us to contribute to the effective running of your office. Consider it a gesture of goodwill."
"That's very kind of you," I say, "and I would be honored to accept." In truth, I can barely believe my luck. I had hoped to broach the subject of spending time with Victoria, and now Mr. Paternoster has delivered her directly to me. Once she is working here, it should be little trouble to persuade her that a more formal and more lasting arrangement would be better for us both. Perhaps I'll have a wife by the end of the year.
"Alas," Mr. Paternoster continues, "my niece's prospects are not the primary reason for my visit. Obviously I came to ask about your health following the nasty incident with Lawrence Evans, but there is another matter that I wish to discuss. As I told you during our first meeting, I can see the pain and decay that have set root in Devil's Briar. I wish to make this place my home, and I believe that the first step in doing so should be for me to make a meaningful contribution to the health and vitality of the community." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. "Mayor Caster, am I right in thinking that you, Sir, are a man of faith?"
"I am," I reply proudly.
"I envy you," he says. "Myself, I have to admit that I've struggled. My faith ebbs and flows like the tide. I was raised by God-fearing parents, but in my adult life I'm afraid I have seen things that have shaken my faith to the point where..." He pauses, looking genuinely troubled for a moment. "I am only thirty-five years old, but I have traveled a great deal and I have seen things..." He puts the piece of paper on the table, and I notice that his hand is shaking; he quickly puts the hand under his coat, as if to hide it. "I hope you will not think me a bad man, Mayor Caster, simply because I have been honest with you here today."
"Not at all," I reply. I sense that this man is suffering a great deal, but also that he can yet be saved. God welcomes back to his flock all those who seek his forgiveness, and I'm quite sure that Thomas Paternoster is genuine when she speaks of this struggle he has endured. I can only hope that Victoria's faith is somewhat more robust, otherwise I shall have to fortify her belief before I ask for her hand in marriage. "As the Lord says," I continue, "one must not judge other men, but try to help them."
"Amen," Mr. Paternoster says. "I find myself drawn more and more toward science, Mayor Caster, but let me be clear. I do not see science and God as rivals. Indeed, I believe that it is through science that I shall perhaps find a path back to God. That is my fervent desire." He pauses for a moment. "I note that Devil's Briar has a very modest place of worship. Your church, Mayor Caster, is rundown and in need of considerable restoration."
"We are working slowly to rectify the problem," I reply. "Little by little, we are gathering the necessary funds to -"
"I want to pay for your church to be fully restored," he says, interrupting me. "Whatever it takes, I will provide. Furthermore, as a token of my goodwill, I wish to pay for a beacon to be erected in the heart of town. Something that marks this place out as a God-fearing community that would serve as a model for the whole country." He reaches over and slides the piece of paper across to me. "I wish to pay for the construction and erection of a cross that will stand in the heart of Devil's Briar and serve as a focal point for the kindness, the decency, the honesty and above all the faith of all the people who call this place their home."
Unfolding the piece of paper, I see that Mr. Paternoster has sketched out a re
presentation of the town square, and in the middle he has drawn what appears to be a huge cross, towering many feet into the air. It's a striking feature, the likes of which I have myself never before seen, but it has a certain attraction. "It is a wonderful idea," I say, a little surprised by Mr. Paternoster's determination, "but I do not see how such a thing could possibly be constructed. We do not have the materials, or the tools, or the expertise..."
"All of which I will provide," he says. "A forty-foot cross, made of iron. Cutting-edge technology. The most modern symbol possible of this town's faith in God, and also a sign that science can still be a God-fearing endeavor." He pauses. "I must be honest with you, Mayor Caster. This proposal is not entirely selfless. I wish to create something that unites my faith and my scientific curiosity. This cross will be the most magnificent symbol. People will come from miles around. Devil's Briar will become one of the most celebrated and famous places in the whole world, and this cross will stand for the rest of time as testament to the beliefs that will keep this community strong."
I stare at the piece of paper. Paternoster's plan appears ludicrous, and almost impossible to implement. Then again, perhaps I can use this situation to my own advantage. If the cross is completed, it will galvanize the community and encourage people to see that Devil's Briar has a future. As Mayor, I will naturally be in a position to shape and define this new sense of purpose. On the other hand, if the cross fails, Mr. Paternoster will be the one who takes all the blame, and I can swoop in with a more modest but realistic idea. Given the recent drama involving Lawrence, I feel the town needs to get talking about something else, rather than dwelling on a matter that I would prefer to see forgotten.
"I think this is a wonderful idea," I say finally. "Mr. Paternoster, I have no idea how you plan to construct this wonderful symbol of our town's devotion, but I wish you all the best and I assure you that my office will provide whatever assistance you require. Financial means might be a little beyond our purview, but in all other matters I will be standing right behind you. I think I speak for everyone in Devil's Briar when I welcome you and your niece most whole-heartedly to our little community." I reach across and shake his hand. "Might I ask how long you think it will take to complete construction of the cross?"
"Just a few weeks at most," he replies. "I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. It is not only the cross itself that is intended as a tribute to the Dear Lord, but also the manner in which it shall be raised."
"I look forward to it," I say. The man is certainly ambitious, but it remains my estimation that such an undertaking cannot end in any other way than abject failure, in which case I shall be poised to seize the limelight once again. I fully expect Mr. Thomas Paternoster to be on his way from Devil's Briar within the month, although I certainly intend to have dear Victoria remain behind as my housemaid and, ultimately, as my wife and as the mother to my children.
"I should let you get on with your work," Mr. Paternoster says, standing up. "A man such as yourself must be very busy."
"I do have to manage my time rather carefully," I say, getting to my feet and struggling over to the door. I really must go and collect my walking cane from the hotel. "However, my door is always open to a man such as yourself, Mr. Paternoster. Please, come and see me whenever you are able."
"I shall send Victoria over first thing in the morning," he says.
"That will be excellent."
"Good day," he says as he leaves. Pushing the door shut, I take a deep breath and reflect upon the fact that my prospects are currently looking rather good. The local community sees me as a hero for cutting down the vile Lawrence Evans, and there are but a few loose ends to tie up so that no-one ever learns the truth of my connection with that murderous rogue. Meanwhile, I have a lovely young lady coming to work for me, plus the prospect of her uncle's ridiculous project. I'm quite certain that by the end of the month, I shall be in a much improved position. When Victoria is -
Hearing a sound from the other side of the room, I turn just as a small glass smashes on the floor. Hurrying over, I see that one of the brandy glasses has fallen from its usual place on my cabinet. I'm usually very careful to ensure that these things can't possibly be tipped over, and I don't see how this little accident could possibly have happened. Taking a deep breath, I try to bend down and pick up the pieces, but unfortunately such exertion is beyond me. I shall have to wait until Victoria comes tomorrow, which will at least give me the opportunity to watch as she bends. Walking over to my desk, I sit down and pause to reflect upon my changed circumstances. I'm now quite certain that my legacy will be secured, and that Devil's Briar is entering a bright new age that will become famous across the land.
Book 2:
The Drum
Prologue
No-one can find me in here. It's the perfect hiding place. I'll just sit and wait, and eventually everyone will get tired of looking for me and then I'll be declared the winner. They'll search behind every door, behind every curtain, behind every piece of furniture, and they still won't find me. This time, I'm going to win for sure. All I have to do is stay very, very quiet and make sure no-one hears me.
Hide and seek is the best game ever. When we've played before, I've always struggled to find a good hiding place. My mother always finds me fairly easily, although she usually pretends it was hard. Not this time. Finally, I've found the best hiding place in the whole world. Only a crazy person would look for me in here. Putting a hand over my mouth, I stifle a giggle. I mustn't celebrate too soon. After all, there's still a chance that my mother might come past this way, looking for me. Also, my father is working in the yard outside, so I have to be extra careful. I'd hate to blow such a good hiding place.
After a while, I start to get tired. I should probably get out of here, but I don't want to be found just yet. I fall asleep, dreaming of the days when I used to play in the fields. I had friends back then and, although they're long gone, I still see them when I'm asleep. It's like they're sleeping in my mind during the day, and they wake up when I close my eyes. We used to have such fun, running around in the midday sun. This time, though, the dream starts out normally but then turns sour. My legs start to hurt, and then the pain moves up to my arms. Finally I wake up, and I realize that something is horribly wrong. I try to get up, but the pain is so intense, all I can do is drop back and scream at the top of my voice. It feels as if my skin is falling off, melting away as the heat builds. Reaching up, I bang on the side of the drum, hoping someone will hear me, but the flesh on my arms starts to fall away as boiling chemicals continue to flood the drum. I cry out again, but I can feel the skin from my face dripping down onto my body and finally my neck collapses and, no matter how hard I try, I can't scream any more. I try to bang on the side of the drum again, but the pain takes over and everything goes black.
Chapter One
1925.
"My dear," I say, taking a deep breath as I look up from my papers, "I'm afraid I spotted that spider again. Over there in the far corner of the room. Of course, I myself have no issue with our arachnid friends, but I'm afraid they excrete a type of resin that can be extremely harmful to important documents, so I must ask you to take another look and see if perhaps you can catch the little fellow before there's any mischief."
"Of course, Mayor Caster," Victoria says eagerly, hurrying over to the other side of the room to begin her search. It's her first day working as my assistant, and although she still has much to learn and I doubt she'll ever reach the level of efficiency that the late Adelaide attained, Victoria compensates in other, more aesthetic ways. From the vantage point of my desk, I watch as she bends to hunt for the spider, and I marvel at the way her light blue dress clings to her firm, twenty-two-year-old rump.
"Perhaps there is some way to lure the spider out," she says. "I rather fear he is onto me, and is hiding. I certainly cannot see him down here."
"I think maybe I see him," I say, indicating the upper corner of the room. "Up there, right by the light fitti
ng. Will you take a closer look for me? I'd do it myself, but my knee is playing up again today."
"Where is it?" she asks, turning and looking up, her eyes scanning the darker recesses of the room as she continues to search for the spider. Her dress, meanwhile, stretches across her fine, pert bosom.
"My mistake," I say, feeling my heart start to race. "I suppose I shall just have to call you in to catch the creature from time to time during the day, when I need... I mean, when I spot the little man scurrying around. I do hope this won't become too tiring for you."
She smiles. "Of course not, Sir. Shall I return to your mail? There's an awful lot, and I should like to get through it by lunchtime so that I can get onto the job of re-organizing your filing cabinets."
"By all means," I reply. "I shall be busy going over these documents relating to your uncle's proposed construction, but if a visitor should call, I am happy to receive him."
"Of course," she says, but I can see that her eyes are scanning my desk with interest. "Might I ask, Sir, what documents you are referring to? I was not aware that my uncle was filing any kind of paperwork regarding the building work."
"It's nothing too important," I reply. "I'm sure a young lady such as yourself has no idea how the official world of business works, but while your uncle's project is a grand idea, it cannot be completed overnight. I have to go through a mountain of paperwork in order to check the various permits and construction outlines, determine likely community sentiment, issue any executive orders I might see fit, and generally ensure that the project remains on schedule. It might seem like mundane work, but I promise you that any major undertaking requires a great deal of bureaucratic scrutiny if it is to be completed successfully. Without wishing to boast, I must say that your uncle is the one who will be out there getting all the glory once construction starts, but it's here in the Mayoral office that the real hard work is taking place. I'll have you know that -"
