Cades Cove: A Novel of Terror (Cades Cove Series #1)

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Cades Cove: A Novel of Terror (Cades Cove Series #1) Page 6

by Aiden James


  Jillian began to weep again, and Miriam pulled her closer to her.

  “All right, son,” said David, unsure what to believe. “How about you, Chris? Is that also your version of what happened this afternoon?”

  “Yeah.” His uneasy glance flitted from Tyler to Jillian, obviously torn by his allegiance to both.

  “Are you sure?” David asked him again.

  “Yes, Daddy.” This time he looked down at his feet and wouldn’t raise his eyes.

  If not for the fact he already knew something strange was going on, David would’ve pursued this further with him. Instead, he turned his attention to Janice.

  “Did you see or hear anything unusual, Jan?”

  “No, I didn’t,” she said. “The excitement was over by the time I got here, other than Jill being so upset. Miriam was already home, checking every room in the house with Ty. Maybe it’s just a plumbing problem or the house settling.”

  She added an optimistic smile, though her eyes looked worried. Miriam nodded to confirm she agreed with Janice’s suggestion.

  “Tell you what, Jill,” he said, returning his attention to her. “Why don’t we eat dinner, and then Daddy will go upstairs and take a look. I promise to get rid of whatever’s up there, sweetie. What do you say to that?”

  She looked up into his face, her expression hopeful. He knew she firmly believed in his ability to fix everything. She smiled and stood up, hugging him tight.

  David smiled as well, wishing he could enjoy the moment as her hero. But he now had a tall order to fulfill, since fixing the problem meant he had to truly understand it first, which he didn’t. Even so, he confidently looked around the living room at everyone else while he held his daughter close, unable to push away the nagging worry that things could soon get worse.

  ***

  Once dinner ended he picked up a flashlight and rubber hammer from the garage. As an afterthought, he added a handful of small mousetraps left over from last spring, when Christopher stumbled onto a mouse nest in one corner of the garage. He then strolled past his family on the way upstairs. He wanted his younger kids to notice him, so they’d sleep well tonight…. Hell, he couldn’t afford another sleepless night himself. If the kids or Miriam couldn’t sleep tonight, he’d be screwed tomorrow.

  Everything upstairs seemed to be in good working order. But that’s what he expected to find. He hoped the charade of setting up mousetraps in each bedroom would at least ease his daughter’s worries until he could come up with a better plan. He added a few traps in the guestrooms and master bedroom for good measure.

  As he stepped into his and Miriam’s darkened bedroom, he heard a rustling sound on the far side of the bed, near the headboard next to his nightstand. He turned on the overhead light and the noise ceased. He lifted the bedspread and peered beneath the bed, shining his flashlight. Except for a few loose papers and one of his socks, the area was clear. A quick search by his nightstand revealed nothing amiss either.

  Thinking there might be a field mice problem after all, he set the last mousetrap behind the television set. Unlike the other traps, he added a small cheese bit from the bait container he brought with him. The trap ready, he checked the faucet and commode in the master bathroom, to ensure nothing else could explain Jillian’s experience.

  When he moved back into the bedroom, a noticeable chill had invaded the air in his brief absence. The room’s windows were closed and locked, and when he checked the thermostat only the heater was on. Thinking some other upstairs window had been left open, he moved to the doorway and turned the light off as he went out. Behind him the rustling resumed. This time it sounded like it came from near the dresser. Hoping to catch a rodent in the act, he whirled around and flicked on the overhead light again.

  He hadn’t thought about “Allie Mae’s Treasures” since his conversation with Ned that morning. But when he saw the dresser drawer where it lay hidden ajar, he suddenly wondered if the little bag had anything to do with the recent strange events.

  Nah, that’s frigging lunacy, David. Just a completely retarded idea....

  But as utterly ridiculous as the notion seemed at first, he couldn’t easily dismiss it. Yes, it was the kind of superstitious nonsense religious fanatics believed. But still…even Ockham’s Razor espoused the simplest answer, no matter how absurd, should be looked at seriously if everything else failed to provide a satisfactory answer. What else could explain the crazy shit that had happened since Saturday afternoon?

  David stepped over to the dresser and opened the drawer all the way. The bag was still concealed beneath a pile of neckties. He dug it out, stuffed it inside his slacks’ pocket, gathered his tools and headed downstairs.

  “Well, did you find anything, Dad?” Tyler asked with a smirk, when he returned to the kitchen. Everyone still sat around the kitchen table.

  “Other than it being a little nippy upstairs, everything’s okay.”

  For a moment he disappeared into the garage with his hammer and flashlight. Upon his return, Jillian looked worried again. He remembered that Miriam said something about their daughter’s room feeling like an icebox earlier.

  “Hey, sweetie, don’t you worry. We’re in good shape now!”

  He walked over to where Jillian sat at the table, enjoying a slice from a devil’s food chocolate cake Janice baked that afternoon.

  “Whatever it was must be afraid of your big bad dad,” he told her, giving her the wink that always made her grin. She didn’t disappoint him. Her frown gave way to a gorgeous smile. “Now that’s my girl!”

  “Thanks, Daddy!” She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “Anytime.”

  Miriam rose to clear the rest of the table, and seemed more at ease. She mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ for his efforts.

  “I think I left an amortization report Ned needs me to look over tonight in the car,” he said, pleased by his wife’s reaction. “I’ll be right back.” He left the kitchen.

  “Don’t you think you should grab your coat?” Miriam called after him, when he opened the front door. “It’s supposed to get down into the thirties tonight, and the temperature has already dropped quite a bit since you got home.”

  “Nah, I’ll just be a sec!”

  He stepped outside and jogged to the end of the curved driveway where the trash container sat. He pulled the bag from his pocket and lifted the container’s lid, checking first to make sure no one watched him.

  “Goodbye Allie Mae!” he whispered gleefully, and prepared to drop it in a crevice between mashed garbage sacks. The bag began to vibrate. Startled, he let it slip from his hand. Under the glow from a nearby streetlamp he watched in amazement as it jiggled and squirmed before disappearing inside a crumpled pizza carton.

  Determined to make sure the bag stayed put, David slammed the container’s lid shut and secured it tight. Shivering in the cold night air, he waited, expecting something else to happen. But the trash container remained quiet.

  “Honey, are you all right?” Miriam stood on the front porch.

  Shit!

  “I’m fine!” he called back to her, praying she hadn’t seen much of what just happened. He jogged back to where she waited for him, thinking of what he should tell her and fearing it would be the truth if she asked the right question.

  “I couldn’t find the report,” he told her when he reached the porch. “But, I took the opportunity to throw away some trash I left in the car.”

  “I told you it was cold out here!”

  She sounded suspicious, shivering from the night’s briskness. Probably telling herself ‘he never leaves trash in his prized sports car’, he thought. He followed her inside and closed the door, pausing to take another look toward the curb through the front door’s peephole. For now, the trash container remained as he left it at the edge of the street.

  He locked the door and returned upstairs to the master bedroom. The room’s temperature had returned to normal. Pleased by his apparent success, he sm
iled and returned downstairs.

  At bedtime, despite his repeated assurances, Jillian insisted on keeping Sadie with her again tonight. Janice left at nine-thirty, and Miriam soon retired upstairs. Once ten o’clock came, Tyler also went to bed, leaving David as the only one downstairs. He watched the news and a re-run of “Friends” until eleven.

  Unlike last night, he didn’t sense anything unusual while moving up the staircase. No voices, strange noises, or anything else to make him look over his shoulder. Relieved, he climbed into bed with Miriam, snuggling close to her as he pulled up the covers. Sleep came easily, and he didn’t stir at all until she woke him at daybreak.

  Chapter Nine

  “Sadie...? Where are you, girl?”

  Tuesday afternoon. Tyler disarmed the alarm system and closed the front door behind him, laying his backpack and leather jacket on the sofa in the living room. He whistled for the dog, and while he waited for her to respond, he changed the television station from the Cartoon Network to the G-4 Network. After watching the latest advertisement for a new game system accessory, he called Sadie again. No answer. Not even a hint of the soft jingle from her collar that sometimes announced her approach.

  “‘Here, Sadie!... Come here, girl!”

  He checked the den and then walked into the kitchen, continuing to call her on his way through the dining room back to the foyer. No sign of her on the main floor.

  “Sadie, are you up there?” he asked, looking up to the second floor landing. “Come here, girl!”

  Where the hell is she?

  He climbed the stairs and stood in the hallway. Too quiet and unusually cold. Like someone had left a window wide open.

  Didn’t Dad notice something similar last night?

  Maybe the dog’s sleeping in the master bedroom, since she often liked to take her naps under Mom and Dad’s bed. But he remembered Dad closed the bedroom door when the two of them were the last ones downstairs that morning. The door remained closed.

  “Sadie?”

  He moved down the hallway toward his room, where the door was also shut. The only open doorways were to Christopher and Jillian’s bedrooms. Since Sadie had slept with Jillian the past two nights, he checked her room first. The dog wasn’t there, but his little sister’s bedroom seemed very creepy...colder than the hallway too.

  He moved on to Christopher’s bedroom. Not finding the dog there either, Tyler stepped back into the hallway. That’s when he heard Sadie whimper in the corner of Christopher’s room. Burrowed underneath a large stuffed tiger sitting on the floor beneath his brother’s window, her labored breaths reminded him of what happened the past Sunday night.

  “Hey, girl, are you all right?”

  He knelt down and petted her head while looking over his shoulder. Nothing else seemed out of place, though difficult to say for sure. His younger brother did little to organize his room. Despite Mom and Auntie Jan’s efforts, Christopher somehow managed to make his bedroom look like he hadn’t a dresser or closet to his name.

  “Let’s go downstairs.” Tyler’s tone soothing, he scooped Sadie up into his arms. She shook terribly. “What’s up with you, anyway?”

  Heavy panting with eyes half-open was her only response. He carried her out of the room and over to the stairway. Just as he reached the stairs, the front door creaked open. Her ears perked up and she began to whimper.

  “Jill?... Chris?... Is that either of you?”

  No verbal response, but the floor creaked in the living room. Tyler’s carefree footfalls announced his return downstairs. Once he walked over to the front door and closed it, he encountered a similar, uneasy stillness like upstairs. The temperature had dropped here, too, and very recently...much cooler than it was outside. He didn’t see anyone in the living room or dining room. However, something about the air around him seemed kind of weird, like it was charged with energy.

  Worried his sudden jumpiness might get the better of him, he shifted his focus to the logical and explainable. Maybe the wind and the house settling caused the door to open and made the floor creak, like what Dad mentioned yesterday when Jillian lost her damned mind over nothing.

  “Hello, Zachariah-h-h-h!”

  “What the… who’s here??”

  Surprised, he almost dropped Sadie while he jumped back toward the front door. The dog curled up even tighter against his chest, digging her front claws into his shirt to ensure her own safety. With his heart thumping madly, he peered into the living room where the voice came from. He still didn’t see anyone. From what he could tell so far, the voice belonged to some female with a strong Southern accent, though her tone seemed unnatural. Cold and unfriendly.

  “Come out and show yourself!”

  Not as tough sounding as he would’ve liked. He thought of Jillian trying to get him back after yesterday. That would make sense. But where in the hell did she learn to talk like that? He moved into the kitchen, and Sadie lifted her head to let out a low, menacing growl.

  If Jill’s messing with me, then why is the dog acting like this?

  Sadie should be wagging her tail. Other than their mom, the dog favored his sister over everyone else.

  No one in the kitchen, but the curtains above the sink swayed, like a slight breeze grazed them. Thinking whoever was here might be in the dining room, he set Sadie down on a kitchen chair—no easy task since she tried to jump back into his arms. She continued to whine, but once he got her to remain on the chair he took a few steps toward the dining room and then reversed his path. He ran through the living room and didn’t stop until he passed the foyer and reached the stairs near the dining room’s other entrance.

  Again, he didn’t find anyone.

  “Okay, Jill…. I get it now,” he said snickering, but nervous. “You’re trying to freak me out after what happened yesterday, right? Well, it won’t work because—”

  “Guilty…both you and yer brother-r-r!”

  An icy breeze embraced him from behind, where the voice now came. He tried to turn around, to take a look at whoever was there. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t move, which amazed and frightened him even more. The only thing he knew for certain it wasn’t Jillian. No frigging way.

  “Yer blood for mine,” the hollow voice whispered sultrily.

  The coldness intensified...the mysterious presence drew ever closer. Out of the corner of his right eye he saw wisps of reddish blond hair. He finally managed to turn his head, but her image became a blur and disappeared. Taunting laughter filled the air around him, and he threw up his arms around his face to protect himself.

  The laughter grew steadily louder and more derisive. Trembling in terrible fear, he thought he might faint. But the laughter faded, replaced by the sound of running footsteps on the driveway. The doorknob began to jiggle as other voices resounded on the front porch. Relieved that Jillian and Christopher were home, they already argued over who got to take Sadie outside to do her personal business.

  “Hi, Ty,” said Christopher, the first one inside. He sounded cheerful, but frowned when Tyler just stared at him without a reply.

  “Hey,” said Jillian, her tone casual until she turned to look at him. Like her younger brother, she frowned as well. “What’s up with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  He shook harder. Jillian and Christopher dropped their backpacks and came over to him. Though so badly frightened, he wasn’t about to talk about what just happened. Empowered by the urge to protect them, he stated that his tremors came from hunger. He followed them into the kitchen, looking warily over his shoulder toward the foyer while they got something to eat. Jillian had been right after all and everyone else was wrong. There was someone in the house with them…someone hard to see and definitely not nice.

  Chapter Ten

  David pulled up in the driveway just before 7 p.m., parking the minivan behind the BMW. A very long day, it started with the long line of parents in their vehicles waiting their turn to drop off the kids at Chester Elementary School. Jillian and Christo
pher were late to class, as a result. He should’ve known it would be that kind of day.

  Things got even crazier when he arrived at work, as several amortization reports from last week needed to be completely redone. Then a representative from Kings Inc. brought in another box of investment documents just after 9 a.m., left out from the original files his department received at the end of September. To get everything fixed by six o’clock, it meant skipping both breaks and take lunch at his desk. The mound of paperwork grew another few inches in height, and the meeting to go over the prelims for Applewood Associates was now postponed until tomorrow morning, set for eight o’clock sharp.

  He gathered his briefcase and laptop and stepped out of the van. Rather than go directly inside the house he walked over to the empty trash container sitting next to the garage, where Tyler returned it once he got home from school that afternoon. He opened the lid, using the garage’s floodlight to allow him to see inside the container. A small amount of liquid rolled around the bottom. Other than that, it was empty.

  He closed the lid, smiling at the prospect of “Allie Mae’s Treasures” and the rest of their garbage lying someplace in the Morrison dump, where it would be crushed and buried within the next day or so. His mood brightened, he whistled a happy melody on up to the front door and stepped inside. Miriam and the kids waited for him in the living room.

  “I take it you all have eaten,” he said, after he hung up his coat and joined them.

  “Not yet,” said Miriam, her tone serious. “We need to discuss something with you first.”

  All three kids sat with her on the sofa. Miriam said some-thing that morning about Janice having a date tonight. As he surveyed his family eyeing him solemnly, he wished for a buffer like her, at least long enough for him to figure out what this was all about. Something wasn’t right, and he could tell that Miriam had a bone to pick with him.

 

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