by Amy Cross
"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.
