Ruled By Fear

by C. Cervi

  The man’s words didn’t make sense to Aaron, but at that moment it didn’t matter.

  “I have to find my brother,” he said, ripping his arm away.

  Grant hesitated—his eyes sad and, for a moment, Aaron thought Grant might offer to help, but his hopes were crushed when the man finally did speak.

  “You do what you think you have to. But, you’re on your own. We can’t help you.”

  Aaron gave a curt nod and turned toward the house. Driven by desperation, he ran as fast as he was able, hoping to be in time to catch up with the person he’d seen. He could feel the panic bubbling up inside of him, threatening to strangle the very breath from his lungs. When he rounded the side of the house, he stopped suddenly. Standing a short distance away was the man he’d seen. Something about the situation wasn’t right, but he had no choice except to continue forward.

  “Where’s my brother?” he asked, taking a step toward the man.

  He stopped again when the man’s shoulders began to shake and, a moment later, he heard a strange sort of cackling noise. He realized with alarm that the man was laughing.

  “You think I have him?” the man asked without turning around.

  His voice was low and raspy, but one that Aaron recognized instantly.

  His mind flew back to the chamber—to the horrific sight that had greeted him, and the eerie whispering voices. He could feel his stomach beginning to churn once again. Willing himself to remain calm, he drew his mouth into a firm line, and took another step toward the figure.

  “Who are you?” he demanded.

  The man still didn’t turn.

  “Don’t you know?” the raspy voice asked. “I would have thought you’d read about me in that book of yours.”

  Aaron drew back in alarm, and instinctively felt for the book. It was still there. How? How could they have known? His mind was reeling with unanswered questions, but before he could settle on any one of them, he felt a sharp pain at the base of his neck. Reaching back for the spot, he felt his legs buckle beneath him, and his vision began to blur, and he watched helplessly as the figure turned and slowly walked toward him. Aaron fought the darkness threatening to overwhelm him, and forced himself to look up—into a face he recognized.

  “Why?” he asked, as the world started to grow dark.

  “Because it’s fun . . .”

  Aaron’s dreams were vivid—full of ghostly outlines and shadows. Sometimes the figures would twist and turn, finally taking shape. He recognized the local sheriff, his father, even . . .

  “Mama,” he called, reaching out to her.

  But, anyone he drew near would suddenly shift into a terrifying monster. He turned and ran, ducking into the nearest corner—surrounded by enemies with no one to turn to—no one to trust.

  “Help me,” a desperate voice whispered, and Aaron looked up into the ashen face of a young woman.

  “Who are you?”

  “It’s not important,” she whispered as tears slipped from her eyes. “You were too late.”

  Suddenly, the woman shifted and, in the next instant, Annie was standing before him.

  “I told you what would happen,” she accused.

  Aaron cried out and covered his face with his hands as she began to distort, turning into the disfigured corpse from the chamber. He fell to the floor and drew his knees up to his chest.

  “Please, stop,” he cried.

  Instantly, everything grew quiet and he slowly removed his hands from his face. He found himself standing inside one of the tunnels to the mine. The soft glow of firelight shone from a chamber at the end of the tunnel. He knew where it led, but he had no desire to go there.

  “Aaron, help me,” the young woman called.

  Aaron stood still, shaking his head.

  This isn’t real.

  He turned to walk away, and suddenly the voice changed. Recognizing it as his brother’s, he whipped around. Aaron’s eyes jerked open and, this time, he was in his bed, inside the house. He jumped up, wincing at the intense pain coming from his ankle. His head was pounding, but he ignored it.

  “Aaron, please,” Keith screamed.

  “I’m coming,” he called, and as soon as his feet hit the cold floor he knew this was real. His nightmares were coming true.

  He grabbed the knob, yanking hard, and was startled to find it locked. Aaron could hear what sounded like the lash of a whip, and with each crack, Keith’s screams became more desperate.

  “Aaron . . . help me.”

  Aaron pulled on the door, beating his hands against it.

  “Let me out of here. Philip . . . Emily,” he called frantically.

  Aaron’s own desperate scream joined Keith’s with the next lash as he threw himself into the door. Over and over he used his shoulder as a battering ram until the pain became so intense, he was forced to stop. Finally, in frustration, he turned and circled his room, looking for anything that might open the door that was now stained with his blood. His head jerked when he heard a sound, and he rushed back across the room.

  “Who’s there?” he called through the door.

  “It’s me, Emily,” the girl answered.

  Aaron shuddered as another scream from Keith interrupted them.

  “Can you get me out?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” she answered. “I’m trying—wait, I think I’ve almost got it.”

  Aaron’s brief moment of joy was changed to despair when Emily gave a startled cry, and he heard a soft thump. Before he even had a chance to react, Keith gave a final heart wrenching scream, and then all was silent. Aaron let his head drop against the door and gave in to the agony inside him. Slowly he sank to the ground as wracking sobs shook his body.

  “I’m sorry,” he cried. “I’m so sorry.”

  Aaron didn’t know how long he lay, unmoving on the floor, but he did know that if his little brother was gone, there was no reason for him to get up again. Streams of sunlight managed to creep in between the cracks in the walls and he could hear a few birds chirping—a sound that usually cheered him, but now it was just a painful reminder that life would go on, regardless of how much pain, suffering, and loss he endured. This time, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go along with it. Memories of the day before came over him in waves and he had a hard time separating dream from reality. A young woman had been killed, but who she was, he was no longer sure. It had been Daniel he’d encountered by the house, but he wasn’t the same man that had been desperate to get to his sister. He was the face behind one of the voices in the tunnel. The whole thing had been some sort of sick game. A game that Grant apparently knew about and had played along with. He struggled to make sense of what he’d seen—of what was going on. Grant had tried to warn him. He’d told him it was a game and that he would lose. But, Grant had been wrong. He hadn’t lost. Keith had, and try as he might; he couldn’t get his brother’s tortured screams out of his head.

  A part of him was shouting at him to get up, find a way out, and determine what had happened to Keith, but another part—the part that had been trapped inside this continual nightmare for more than two weeks, the part that was starving and bruised and beaten, the part of him that felt responsible for one and possibly three more deaths—that part that wanted him to just lie there and die. He waited quietly as these two parts of himself battled against each other.

  The decision was made a short time later when he heard his door rattle and the sound of a lock being sprung. His body was stiff and the pain radiating from his shoulder was so intense, he almost cried out. His ankle was hugely swollen, but he determined it wasn’t broken. His shoulder though was another matter. He didn’t dare even try to look at it. He knew it was going to need some attention and soon but, for now, it was taking all his powers of concentration just to get up off the floor—his shoulder would have to wait.

  Slowly, he managed to get himself onto his knees and he reached out for the door knob. The relief he felt over the door opening quickly turned to anger. His door had nev
er been locked before, and the one time he had desperately needed it to be open . . .

  With his one good arm, he used the knob to pull himself up, and had to hang onto it for support for several minutes. When his head finally stopped swimming, he looked up and down the long hallway. There was no sign of Emily. For some reason, he’d been half expecting to see her lying there. He quickly shut his eyes against the memory of her startled cry.

  “One step at a time, son.” He heard his father’s voice echo in his ears.

  “Oh, Pa,” he said aloud. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

  He waited for his father to answer, but the voice remained silent. Instead, a sudden strength seemed to flow through him, as if his father was willing him the courage to go on. Aaron didn’t know how but, at that moment, he knew that his father was looking for them, and that knowledge gave him a strength he’d thought was long gone. With a renewed sense of determination, he stepped into the hall, walking toward his brother’s room. It was no surprise when he found it empty.

  “I’ll find him, Pa. I promise you, I’ll find him.”

  He turned and headed for the stairs, moving slowly and painfully. It took him a long time to get to the dining room and when he did, it was empty. He knew he should check the board, but he was afraid of what he would see—afraid of what numbers would be missing. Finally, he glanced up. There were two numbers missing, but when he saw his assignment; all thoughts of whose they might be flew from his mind.

  Tend to 19

  His stomach lurched as he turned quickly and hobbled from the room. He wasn’t sure exactly where he was going, but he remembered that when Philip had been assigned to take care of his brother, Emily had mentioned something about the second floor. He took the stairs as fast as he was able, heart pounding—silently pleading for his brother to be all right. He turned down the corridor leading off the first flight of stairs and walked quite a distance before he found himself in front of a set of double doors. He flung one side open and stepped inside of what, to all appearances, seemed to be a hospital ward. He had only seen one once before, on a trip he had made to San Francisco with his father several years back. This room was much larger than the one he had been in, however.

  “Keith,” he called.

  The large room seemed to echo his brother’s name, and the sound filled him with dread. His heart tightened in his chest when there was no answer. The walls were lined with hospital style beds, and at the end of the room was a large counter full of what looked like medical equipment. There were many cabinets and drawers, and he could make out bundles of bandages. He continued to walk down the center aisle, even though there appeared to be no sign of his brother. When he got closer to the end of the row, he noticed a small door on the left.

  He’s in there.

  Aaron turned and stared at the door. He tried to swallow, but his mouth had gone dry.

  “Keith,” he managed to croak.

  Again there was no answer.

  Reaching out, he slowly turned the knob, and pushed the door open.

  It was dark and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. When they did, he stood, eyes glued to the sight in front of him. In the center of the room, slung over a cold metal table like a piece of meat, was his little brother. Aaron felt the air rush from his lungs.

  “Oh, Keith,” he whispered.

  C

  hapter 16

  The world seemed to stand still as Aaron stared at his little brother’s wounded body, and he wasn’t sure his heart would ever start beating again. His mind refused to cooperate, and he had to concentrate just to continue pushing air in and out of his lungs. Keith lay almost completely naked across the table. It looked like someone had given a half-hearted attempt at make him modest by throwing a small sheet across his middle. Aaron drew nearer and as he got a closer look at what his brother had endured, his breathing became ragged, and he struggled to continue putting one foot in front of the other. There were very few places on his brother’s body that had been left untouched, and he was covered in large angry welts from the lash of a whip.

  Aaron’s insides were churning as he reached out to push back his brother’s tangled hair.

  Please, be alive.

  At Aaron’s touch, Keith gave a soft cry, but made no attempt to move. Aaron had never felt such relief as he did then.

  “I’m here, Keith,” he said softly. “I’m here now.”

  Keith didn’t answer expect for a weak moan, but it was enough to send Aaron into action.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Aaron limped out of the room and made his way to the bandages. Near the pile, he noticed a bucket of water had been set on the floor, along with a bottle of witch hazel. The water looked fresh; it appeared these things had been set there recently. He took a quick moment to look around, in case there was anything else that might be of use. There were bottles of various drugs in many of the cabinets, but he didn’t recognize most of the names. He decided to take what he’d found to his brother, and then go back and search more thoroughly later on. He knew that once Keith came around, he was going to be in a great deal of pain, and he hoped that there might be some kind of pain killer mixed up in the jumble of medicines.

  When he entered the room again, he immediately started talking to his brother, keeping his voice low and soothing. He soaked the bandages with witch hazel and began to tend to his brother’s wounds. He had expected somewhat of a fight from Keith, as he was sure the witch hazel would sting, but his little brother remained unmoving. Aaron dipped one of the bandages in water and brought it to his brother’s lips but, still, Keith didn’t move. After examining him more closely, it dawned on Aaron that Keith had been given some sort of sedative. He counted that a blessing for the moment, and continued to work on his brother until every stripe had been cleaned. Finding himself with nothing more to do other than wait, he decided to go search through the cabinets again. He had no idea what his brother had been given or how long it would last, and Aaron was worried about fever or infection setting in. If he could, he wanted to have something ready to give him when he did finally come around. As he walked out of the small room, his shoulder brushed against the doorframe, and he nearly cried out from the pain. He knew he should use some the witch hazel to tend to his own wounds, but he didn’t have the strength to cause himself any more pain at the moment. Aaron had been digging through the cabinets without much success for a while when the sound of someone clearing their throat startled him. He looked up and standing before him, unharmed, was Emily. Once again, overwhelming relief rushed through him, and the heavy load of guilt he’d been carrying seemed to fall of his shoulders.

  “You’re alive?” he cried out, half disbelieving.

  Emily nodded her head shyly. “I’m . . . I’m sorry I couldn’t help you. I . . . I tried.”

  The girl’s eyes filled with tears and as she dropped her eyes to the floor, she self-consciously pushed her hair behind her ears. Aaron cringed when he saw a large bruise at the base of her temple, and some of the guilt came back.

  He crossed the room and laid a hand on her shoulder.

  “I know you did,” he said, “and I thank you for it. I’m sorry that you were hurt because of me.”

  Emily shrugged her slight shoulders and looked up into his eyes, giving him a small smile.

  “I’ve brought you some lunch,” she said. “But, I wasn’t allowed to bring any for your brother, I’m sorry.”

  Aaron took the small bundle she offered and he smiled appreciatively. He knew it would be a while before Keith would be wanting any food; he didn’t feel much like eating himself. As Emily turned to leave, he reached out a hand to stop her.

  “How long will they let us stay here?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure . . . Only until they think he’s well enough to work again. The Gardner is the one that decides,” she paused for a moment, and then added as an afterthought. “I won’t be allowed to bring you supper. You’ll have to come down for that.”
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br />   “Thank you,” Aaron answered, then turned back to the cabinets.

  He knew there was no way he was going to leave his brother alone—never again. But, he didn’t need to tell Emily that—he didn’t want her to worry.

  “Is this where you got the medicine for my brother when he was sick,” he asked her.

  Her eyes grew round, and she stammered for a moment.

  “It’s all right,” Aaron said, holding up a calming hand. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  She watched him for a moment and then seemed to relax. After she had left the room, Aaron opened the bundle onto the counter. One egg, a crumbled biscuit, and one raw carrot were all he would get between now and the next day. He wrapped the food up again and set it inside one of the cupboards. The pain in his shoulder was making his stomach queasy and he decided it would be better to save the food until he knew for sure he would be able to keep it down. Aaron continued his search for medicine and, just as he was ready to give up, he came across a small bottle marked laudanum. It only had a small amount of liquid left but, at least, it was something, and he was grateful. He was on his way back to the room when he heard Keith cry out.

  “I’m coming,” he called, and then cringed as he remembered uttering those very words the night before. When he entered the room he gasped and quickly rushed to Keith’s side. It seemed his brother had attempted to stand up, and had landed in a heap on the floor. As gently as he could he helped his brother back onto the table, but the process was long and agonizingly painful for Keith, and the young man was trembling violently by the time he was settled again. Aaron wondered if it would have been better to have just left him on the floor as he took the cork out of the small bottle of laudanum and brought it to Keith’s lips. Keith screwed up his mouth as the bitter tasting liquid hit his tongue, but Aaron was relieved to see that the medicine made it down his throat. Keith was barely aware of what was happening around him, and his words were jumbled and disjointed.