Flee
Page 28
Doris remembered the indignities Robert had placed upon her, and the moment she stopped him with the book. A grin spread over her face, she could hear his screams sometimes, the sound pleased her. She felt at last that she was ready to start her life again. Simon and Jenny had asked her to move in, and be their housekeeper. She had agreed under the condition that she learned from them. She would never be left vulnerable again.
Jenny was last down the steps into the cellar. She was so tired, and was just glad it was all over. For a second she relieved the attack, only this time it was Alex, who held the knife to her throat. His breath on her ear, and his voice the last thing she heard. She had experienced this nightmare a few times, and was not quite ready to fully forgive her dad.
The pit has been boarded up about ten feet below ground level. Steel reinforcing bars screwed into the sides. The pewter had been pulled off, and removed from the house.
All that was left was a hole in the ground. The altar was smashed, and thrown into that hole, along with the post which the men had drilled out of the ground.
As they stood there, a tetrad formed against evil, behind them a man brought in a two-foot-wide plastic tube, sliding it down the ladders and maneuvering it into the pit. He smiled at the waiting group, and then taking a walkie-talkie from his belt. “Let her go.”
Concrete poured out of the tube, and slurped into the hole. It was a thick and grey a glutinous mess. It tumbled down the pipe and was swallowed by the pit. It kept coming minute after minute, slopping from the pipe, and glugging into the mess below. It slide round, rippling and flowing as it piled in and in. Burying their secrets, and their shame, Alex thought, but not removing it.
The workman winked at Doris, as he held on to the bucking pipe as another load of heavy cement joined the pool. At last the dregs of the material ran down the tube, and finally filled in the hole.
The friends joined hands and watched as the concrete, settled. The workman pushed the pipe to one side, and took a two by four piece of wood.
He moved them to one side as a colleague joined him. The two workers stood either side of the now overflowing hole, with the piece of wood held between them. They tapped the wood onto the glutinous mess and moved it back and forwards tamping the concrete down until it was level with the surface.
The first workman, shouted on his radio for the tube to be removed watching as it disappeared back up the stairs. “There, that is strong enough to hold back the devil.” He smiled at the friends before climbing back up the ladder.
“It’s done,” Simon said. “This is all over, let’s start again.”
Simon passed his eyes round the circle, to Doris; she nodded a determination to her jawline. Alex was next he nodded relief on his own face as well as grief and fatigue. At last he turned to Jenny.
She hesitated; a tiny amount of doubt still lurked in her mind. “We stand together against anyone who would do this?” She looked around the group, and this time the agreement was quicker. She closed her eyes it was truly over.
The friend’s left the cellar, the workman waited with a torch, to weld the door shut.
Epilogue
Simon steered through the claustrophobic buildings that made up the back streets of Louth. He weaved the powerful car effortlessly in and out of the traffic heading towards Fairways, Roberts’s old house. He had purchased the property, via one of his corporations, as soon as the fuss had died down. None of his friends knew he owned it, and he had every intention of keeping the property a secret. His first job had been to visit the cellar. The hell bat had been waiting hungry and annoyed, and it had launched itself at Simon. Still weak, he had struggled to fight the beast off, ending up using magic to send it back into the pit, and return it to the dimension from which it came. As it disappeared, a flash surrounded him, knocking him from his feet.
Once he recovered, he had removed all the torture equipment, and cleaned the place up before locking the door and leaving it.
He pulled into the drive. The gardens no longer looked cared for. Though still beautiful, weeds were invading the flower beds, and the grass was in desperate need of cutting. He made a note to hire a garden maintenance company. He left the car, and walked to the door. It opened before he had time to knock.
A thin liver-spotted hand was offered for him to shake. “I’m Dr. Bryce, and you must be Mr. Greaves.”
Simon took the hand, finding it cold and firm, the shake a little unpleasant, like one from a funeral director who really despises you. He shook himself to clear the thought. This was bad enough, there was no need for hysteria. The doctor was a small man with sparse hair, thick glasses and a pasty complexion. He was wearing a white coat with a stethoscope hung around his neck. Simon wanted to giggle at the cliché, but bit back and stifled his smile.
“Come in, come in.” The doctor moved before him, fussing as he entered the house. “I have just what you want, come through and meet Tracey.” He led the way through the kitchen. Annoyance niggled at Simon when he saw pots piled on the work surface, and an overflowing ashtray on the table of the once pristine room. The place smelt of stale food and cigarettes.
“This is not acceptable.” Simon pointed at the dirty surface. “She should not be smoking if she is to have my child.”
“The cigarettes are mine. She could not smoke with her condition. Once the deal is done, she will comply with any requests you make. Do you have the money?”
“Yes, let’s go through.” Simon nodded towards the door, his face kept neutral as he fought down his annoyance.
They entered the living room. On the sofa was a young girl. Her unwashed brown hair hung to her shoulders. She was thin with large doe eyes, but not unattractive. As they entered, she started to cough. The act racked her body, doubling her over with pain. She raised a tiny hand. A tissue clasped in it was pushed to her mouth.
Controlling the cough, she turned to face the two men; a shy smile appeared on her face.
Simon walked towards her feeling a pang of guilt. “You want a child?” he asked, holding her weak gaze in his.
“Yes, desperately. It’s all I want.” She looked up at him, her huge liquid eyes almost begging. She lowered her gaze as heat spread across her pale complexion.
“You know there is a good chance that it will suffer your fate, will live with Cystic Fibrosis and will die an early death?” Simon’s voice was neutral, uncaring.
“Yes, I accept that. My own life has been crap, but I still want to live, and I need a baby.” She raised a shaky hand, running it through lank hair. Her lip quivered with barely controlled emotion.
“You know I want the child on its thirtieth birthday?”
“Yes.”
Simon’s face was hard. “You don’t mind?”
She leaned back. “Hey mister, I’m sixteen. If I make thirty, it will be a miracle. The deal was if the child is healthy, it’s mine. If not, at thirty it’s yours. You see, if you give my baby and me a luxury life for however many years we have. I think we win. You keep me, and pay all my expenses plus some pocket money for life, that’s the deal.”
“That’s the deal.” Simon offered her his hand.
“Cool.” She took the offered hand.
The hand felt warm and clammy, and reminded him of limp bacon. He swallowed a touch of nausea. Discarding her hand, he mustered a smile, and nodded to the doctor. Unspoken agreement passed between them as they walked back to the kitchen. “You can ensure the child carries the Gene?” Simon asked his eyes wide.
“Yes, yes it will be easy.” As the doctor nodded, his glasses slipped down his nose.
“You can keep it alive until the time I need it?”
“That will be harder, and may be painful for the child, but yes I can do it.”
Simon shook the man’s cold hand, expecting his glasses to drop from the end of his nose as he pumped enthusiastically.
He could feel an excitement build inside him as the deal for his immortality was struck.
He whistled as he go
t back into the Audi. His heart lifted at the thought of Jenny and their coming wedding.
* * *
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The Haunting of Seafield House – Preview.
30th June 1901
Seafield House.
Barton Flats,
Yorkshire.
England.
am.
Jenny Thornton sucked in a tortured breath and hunkered down behind the curtains. The coarse material seemed to stick to her face, to cling there as if holding her down. Fighting back the thought and the panic it engendered she crouched even lower and tried to stop the shaking of her knees, to still the panting of her breath. It was imperative that she did not breathe too loudly, that she kept quiet and still. If she was to survive with just a beating, then she knew she must hide. Tonight he was worse than she had ever seen him before. Somehow, tonight was different, she could feel it in the air.
Footsteps approached on the landing. They were easy to hear through the door and seemed to mock her as they approached. Each step was like another punch to her stomach, and she could feel them reverberating through her bruises. Why had she not fled the house?
As if in answer, lightening flashed across the sky and lit up the sparsely furnished room. There was nothing between her and the door. A dresser to her right provided no shelter for an adult yet her eyes were drawn to the door on its front. It did not move but stood slightly ajar. Inside, her precious Alice would keep quiet. They had played this game before, and the child knew that she must never come out when Daddy was angry. When he was shouting. Would it be enough to keep her safe? Why had Jenny chosen this room? Before she could think, thunder boomed across the sky and she let out a yelp.
Tears were running down her face, had he heard her? It seemed unlikely that he could hear such a noise over the thunder and yet the footsteps had stopped. Oh my, he was coming back. Jenny tried to make herself smaller and to shrink into the thick velvet curtains, but there was nowhere else to go.
If only she had listened to her father, if only she had told him about Alice. For a moment, all was quiet, she could hear the house creak and settle as the storm raged outside. The fire would have burned low, and soon the house would be cold. This was the least of her problems. Maybe she should leave the room and lead Abe away from their daughter. Maybe it was her best choice. Their best choice.
Lightning flashed across the sky and filled the room with shadows. Jenny let out a scream for he was already there. A face like an overstuffed turkey loomed out of the darkness, and a hand grabbed onto her dress. Jenny was hauled off her feet and thrown across the room. Her neck hit the top of the dresser, and she slumped to the floor next to the door. How she wanted to warn Alice to stay quiet, to stay inside but she could not make a sound. There was no pain, no feeling and yet she knew that she was broken. Something had snapped when she hit the cabinet, and somehow she knew it could never be fixed. That it was over for her. In her mind, she prayed that her daughter, the child who had become her daughter, would be safe just before a distended hand reached out and grabbed her around the neck. There was no feeling just a strange burning in her lungs. The fact that she did not fight seemed to make him angrier and she was picked up and thrown again.
As she hit the window, she heard the glass shatter, but she did not feel the impact. Did not feel anything. Suddenly, the realization hit her and she wanted to scream, to wail out the injustice of it but her mouth would not move. Then he was bending over her.
“Beg for your life, woman,” Abe Thornton shouted and sprayed her with spittle.
Jenny tried to open her mouth, not to beg for her own life but to beg for that of her daughter’s. She wanted to ask him to tell others about the child they had always kept a secret, the one that he had denied. To admit that they had a daughter and maybe to let the child go to her grandparents. Only her mouth would not move, and no sound came from her throat.
She could see the red fury in his eyes, could feel the pressure building up inside of him and yet she could not even blink in defense. This was it, the end, and for a moment, she welcomed the release. Then she thought of Alice, alone in that cupboard for so long. Now, who would visit her, who would look after her? There was no one, and she knew she could never leave her child.
Abe grabbed her by the front of her dress and lifted her high above his head. The anger was like a living beast inside him, and he shook her like she was nothing but a rag doll. Then with a scream of rage, he threw her. This time she saw the curtains flick against her face and then there was nothing but air.
The night was dark, rain streamed down, and she fell with it. Alongside it she fell, tumbling down into the darkness. In her mind she wheeled her arms, in her mind she screamed out the injustice, but she never moved, never made a sound.
Instead, she just plummeted toward the earth.
Lightning flashed just before she hit the ground. It lit up the jagged rocks at the base of the house, lit up the fate that awaited her and then it was dark. Jenny was overwhelmed with fear and panic, but there was no time to react, even if she could. Jenny smashed into the rocks with a hard thump and then a squelch, but she didn’t feel a thing.
“Alice, I will come back for you,” she said in her mind. Then it was dark, it was cold, and there was nothing.
* * *
25th June 2017
15 Elm Field Road.
London.
England.
pm.
Gail Parker stopped the car and rested her head against the steering wheel. Suddenly, she felt so exhausted, so totally shattered that she did not think she could walk the few feet back to her house. It was not the walk that she dreaded but having to hide her diagnosis. Having to face Jesse and either tell him what had happened, or even worse, to keep it from him.
Yet now was not the time to give him her news. Jesse was excited, which wasn’t unusual. Whenever he found a new house to investigate he was always excited. Only this one seemed different. This time he was so sure, and this time she had agreed to go with him. She would give him this one weekend, and then she would tell him the news. They would face it together, or she would face it alone. It did not matter. Nothing could alter the outcome.
Tears prickled at the back of her eyes but she bit down on her lip and forced them away. A blue Daisy waved at her from the dashboard. When she bought the Volkswagen beetle, the little Daisy had delighted her, yet now she wanted to rip it from the dashboard and stamp on it. A laugh escaped her. As if that would really help.
Pulling down the visor she checked her face. Though her eyes were a little puffy, they were not too bad. This month she had lost 12 lbs, and that hid some of the damage. It didn’t look as if she had been crying, she would do.
It was time to put a smile on her face and pretend nothing had happened.
* * *
Seafield House,
Brinkley Moor,
Yorkshire.
7.45 pm
After a four hour drive, Jesse pulled the 10-year-old Jeep up outside a dilapidated house. The car was his pride and joy, it was the only vehicle that could take all of his equipment. It was not that it was any bigger than other cars, it was just that Jesse had spent years getting it just right, every corner, every nook, and every cranny was filled with custom-made pockets for his equipment. Sometimes Gail would wish he would change it, get something newer, something that had working air conditioning, but she knew it would never happen and the trusty car had never let them down... yet.
Gail was tired, and there was a deep throbbing behind her right eye. All she wanted to do was have a bath, take a couple of tablets and go to sleep. Looking at the rundown place before them, that didn’t seem likely.
Jesse was also looking up at the house, she could see the excitement in the set of his jaw, in the way he leaned forward eagerly and slowly scanned the property. Gail bit back the sigh that threatened to esca
pe her and turned her eyes back to the property.
It was almost dusk, the sun was setting behind the house and seemed to bathe it in a dusky rose light. The windows were like mirrors reflecting back at them like empty eyes. It was as if it did not want them to see inside and she felt herself shudder. Quickly, she looked away. It had surprised her that it would be called Seafield House when it was so far from the sea, and yet, now she understood. A field next to the house was filled with long grass. As the wind tickled across its surface, it looked like the ocean. True, a green ocean, but the grass waved and undulated like water. The sight delighted her, and she thought maybe this would not be so bad after all.
Gradually, her eyes were pulled back to the property. It was a large house, dilapidated and obviously empty for many years. Yet surprisingly, there were no broken panes of glass and no graffiti. It was two stories high, the roof had seen better days, and a few tiles had slipped off and laid on the ground below it.
A crumbling wall surrounded the property and between that and the house was dry patchy grass. It looked as if it had been burned by the sun and yet it had not been that hot this year. There were a few trees scattered about. The leaves were bare, their branches just misshapen twigs that reached up to the sky. For a second, she imagined them beseeching the great god of rain. It was as if they were starved of moisture, starved of something and they were begging for release. Gail shook her head, what was she doing? Jesse was the one who believed in all this and here she was imagining trees begging for water. It looked like she was getting a little carried away.
“I have a good feeling about this place,” Jesse said, turning towards her.
Gail nodded. There was a light in his gray eyes and excitement there that had been missing for over a year. This weekend would be good for him, and she would make sure that he enjoyed it as much as he could. Memories might be all they had now, and it was time to create some good ones.