My words really upset him.
“It’s far worse than I thought. We’ve got to get away from here, Sarah,” he exclaimed when I was done. There was terror in his voice. “Until now, I had only had doubts, but no longer. All three of us need to leave. We were fools for even thinking we could return.” He was deadly serious and listening to him I had to consider the possibilities of what he was saying.
I looked back at the house I’d hoped to make a home and something grieved inside of me. I belonged here. Jeremy and I belonged here in this beautiful old mansion. I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to lose it now I had it. It owned my heart. Besides, we had nowhere else to go.
I tried to explain my situation to Jim, but I could see it wasn’t getting through.
“Sarah, listen. I’m not sure it’s safe here for any of us. You have to think about your son,” he urged, making me feel guilty. After all, I was the one who wanted to stay so badly. What if I were putting Jeremy in danger? If something happened to him I’d never be able to forgive myself. Even the idea of Jeremy threatened, in danger or in pain made my heart thud in my chest. Made my blood freeze.
“I am thinking about him. But he already loves this house, too. It’s as if he’s always belonged here. I don’t know what to do. This place has…lulled me, I think. One second I know we’re in danger and the next I don’t care. Like there’s a spell on us. Maybe it’s all in our minds?” I smiled trying to make him see the silliness of our fears. Though the late afternoon sun and the gathering shadows made the thoughts of ghosts and death feel much closer than I cared for.
Jim shook his head. “The question is can we beat it? It wanted us back here and here we are. After all these years. What does it want now? What does it really want?”
His words sounded strained. Untrue. I knew him too well. I wondered if there was more. He acted as if he already knew the answers.
“It can’t touch us as long as we’re in the house,” I confided. “We’re safe here.”
He eyed me suspiciously, “Or so it wants us to believe.”
“It’s something I hadn’t thought of.” It unsettled me the second he uttered it. If he was right then I was living a lie—believing Jeremy and I were safe when we weren’t.
“Oh, Jim, how can I leave this place? I love it. It’s mine. The first real thing that’s ever been all mine. How can I walk away?”
“You might have to. What’s more important—this house or your lives? We can’t fight what we don’t understand.” Again I caught a false note in his voice. What was going on?
Somewhere far off in its forest lair, it must have heard those words. A cold, clammy breeze swooped down on top of us and left us shivering. It must have been listening, waiting to discover the weak link in our armor. It’d found it.
“You’re right, of course,” I conceded. “We have to decide what to do. No matter what, I have to finish fixing this house, if I want someone to buy it. I need the money. Desperately. I’d like to see it full of people again even if it isn’t us. I don’t want it to be alone any more. Does it sound silly?” I laughed, and was relieved to see Jim smile the first real smile since our discussion had begun. He looked like my old Jimmy when he smiled. Freckles, pug nose and all. For a moment he was ten again.
“No, not coming from you. You always were so darn soft-hearted, Sis. I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.” He teased, tugging a loose strand of my dirty hair like he used to do when we were children. Still the same old Jimmy.
“But you’ll stay and help us renovate, won’t you?”
Jeremy had come up behind us, his arms full of cars.
“I’m sure going to try. I’ll stay to help and keep an eye on you two until you leave. I promise. You’re both too precious to me to let anything happen to you.” By the expression on his face, I knew he meant every word. My, he’d changed.
Jeremy’s show-and-tell was interrupted by another visitor. A short, stoutly built man in gray coveralls, he mumbled he’d come to check the furnace and the wiring. He clopped around in the basement and upper rooms with his immense flashlight for the longest time checking the wires and pipes before he threw some switches. We had electricity. Before he left, he insisted on checking everything out again thoroughly. “Don’t want you folks having any fires or anything.” He winked at me. He was older than he’d first looked, but his eyes twinkled with youth. If he had qualms about being in a so-called haunted house, he didn’t show it. He went about his business and emerged later with a smudged face and a satisfied grin; tipped his cap and was gone. It was all it took and we again had all the comforts of home.
The sun had descended in a splash of rainbow hues and we watched the shadows gather from a warm, well-lit house. The handyman had thought of everything, even bringing along new light bulbs. I was to call him if anything went wrong or if I needed anything else. He’d said the telephone repairman would come the following morning. The lawyer had done his job well.
I wondered when he’d bring me my letter. I shrugged it off because another day or two wouldn’t make any difference. The letter had waited all these years it could wait a few days longer. I had more pressing matters on my mind.
Jim had taken a nap after the repairman left and I went upstairs to see if he’d wake up long enough to eat something. I still had to go out for food because Jim hadn’t connected the stove yet, and there was no food in the house. Tomorrow, I’d go shopping, something I usually hated doing, but this time I was going to enjoy stocking my new pantry and refrigerator. Then I’d truly feel at home. I refused to think about tomorrow or about leaving.
I was half-way up the stairs and on the landing when I felt the vision coming. Soft and gentle, a building wave as thoughts came at me; they weren’t mine. They made me listen. Tiny whispers of warning.
I steadied myself, my hand trembling on the stairway wall, knowing soon it would be over. Afterward, my legs unsteady beneath me, I trudged up the rest of the stairs almost in a trance.
The vision had been short but not sweet. Deadly.
In the twilight I knelt down by my sleeping brother and shook his shoulder until he sat up, opening his sleepy eyes to my pale face. “Jim,” I spoke softly.
“Sarah, what’s wrong?” He was only half awake as he stretched and yawned. “What is it?”
“We can’t leave. Not ever. It tricked us into believing we could come here and be safe. Start a new life. It was all a lie. How could I have been so naïve? So stupid? I should have known better.” I was beyond tears. I would have done anything to reset the hands of time and start over again. The snare had been sprung and we were the hares caught in it.
“What are you babbling about?” He grabbed my arm. I could feel the tension growing inside him as he tried to read my face, my expression, what had happened. “Why can’t we leave?”
I answered coldly and slowly. “Because it’ll take Jeremy if we try. I had a vision.” I winced at the hunted look creeping into his eyes. My body felt so heavy I could barely move. “It’ll kill my son if I try to leave, Jim. We’re trapped.”
“Who says?” he spat angrily. “How can we be sure it will happen? It could be one of its tricks.” He rambled on about other things, none of which made much sense, but the look in his eyes said more than his words. He believed it existed and he believed, it could harm us. He knew.
I raised my hand to stop his words. “It’s no use. We’ll have to think of some other way to escape, but if we leave now,” I was fighting the tears lurking behind my eyelids, “Jeremy dies.”
“Oh, Sarah, I’m so sorry.” He held me in his arms. He believed everything I’d said because my premonitions often came true.
“It’s not the worst of it.”
“Don’t say any more.” He stared at me. “Please.”
I couldn’t help it. I didn’t listen because it was too much
for me to carry alone. “To prove it has the power it’s going to kill tonight. A child.”
I couldn’t look at his face. I swung away, the tears coming. All the horror of my childhood was returning with a vengeance. We were helpless against it, still like children.
“Oh, my God.” He jumped up, captured my hand and tugged me down the stairs. “We have to do something!”
“What?”
“Go to the police,” he bemoaned as we went through the kitchen. I pulled him to a halt as we got to the front porch. Where did he think we were going anyway? We couldn’t run off and leave Jeremy sleeping upstairs. Alone. It was too dangerous.
“How will the police be able to help us?” I’d stopped crying, knowing it wouldn’t do any good.
“Why…we tell them about the murder.” There was something inherently wrong about his plan and it was dawning on him. He turned to me as something registered besides his blind anger. “Sarah?”
“We can’t.” I choked out the words. “The murder hasn’t happened yet.”
Staring at me, Jim slumped down on the top step. I sat beside him. The katydids were starting their nightly songs and I could smell roses heavy in the air. The moon was rising full above us and the smells of summer, though we were far from it, were all around us. It was as if we’d traveled back in time.
It was later, as we sat quietly on the dark steps I realized there weren’t any katydids or roses blooming. It was too early in the year, and I shivered in the reality of the cold night.
“When?” he finally asked.
“I don’t know the exact time. I only know it’ll happen tonight.”
“We can’t do a bloody thing to prevent it.”
It was as if he already knew. I waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t. He sat there peering out into the night world. The stars were coming out. They glittered and pulsated above us. So far away, removed from all the horrors of the planet below and in our tiny lives.
“Not unless you want to go into the woods and start searching.” He didn’t move, hardly breathed, at my side. He didn’t say another word for a long time. Together we watched the moon inch up into the heavens and each, in our own way, prayed.
There must be something we could do. I kept telling myself we had to fight it. Everything couldn’t be allowed to happen again. History couldn’t repeat itself.
“There must be a way to stop it.” He pounded his fist on the wooden steps. I had the strangest feeling Jim knew more than he was saying. We could hear Jeremy in the house searching for us. He came out onto the porch.
“Hey, here you two are,” he said, breathless. “I’ve been looking everywhere.” He plopped down beside us and I gathered him into my arms.
“Yes. Here we are,” I said. “You found us.”
So had something else.
Chapter Eleven
As the cool night slipped in and the slinking shadows greedily reclaimed the world, the woods grew still and brooding. The trees were thick and held hands like ill-fated lovers crisscrossing the length of the valley. They’d lost their youthful appearance and the narrow gullies were now rock-lined streams, etching themselves deep into the clay of the earth. The large benevolent house used to smile down at the woods, but it no longer caught the warmth of the sun in its shiny windows. Instead, the sun baked a crumbling pile of rubble and ash.
But at night the house was still there and the children still played and laughed as they once had. The evil existed too, a forever evil. The years had died but they hadn’t killed it. The woods mingled with the transparent images.
It didn’t have to stay there, in the forest. It wasn’t chained to the trees and the streams, but it liked being there. Time had no meaning. It liked the drooping trees’ lush coolness. It thrived on the quiet and the desolation. The trees bloomed and died, preying upon themselves to fulfill the cycles of nature. It was at home. Here, it could reminisce, think, scheme—and gloat.
It’d come many years ago because it was where they were. It wanted to be near and watch them grow. It’d taken so long to find them this time. It had ponderously scoured the world until it’d discovered the child with the melancholy green eyes and the glow. It could always recognize the one when the one was near. When it saw the child, it knew.
The brightness, the inner glow couldn’t be hidden, and through the long lonely centuries its destiny and duty was to track down and destroy the human. Finding the child was its sole reason for existing.
It was vexed alone in the forest, its eyes burning coals and its shape powerfully immense. Blacker than the shadows from which it sprang, it knew only the hunt. Its hatred had aged with the relentless centuries.
Pacing in unconcealed anticipation on the soft, wet earth, it couldn’t remember when the hunt had first begun, or why, anymore. If it had a face, it would have frowned in puzzlement. Why did it have to stalk one human mercilessly through the long dusty ages?
It ceased its movements, as it tried to remember, but the memories were firm, distant towers and couldn’t be budged. It couldn’t reach them. It couldn’t remember why.
It hated The One. It wasn’t allowed rest or peace until it had found The One each time and snuffed out its goodness. Raw, primeval laughter rang through the branches standing guard around it. There was no uglier sound on earth than its laughter. It bespoke the very essence of malevolence. The quarry was, after all, the best adversary it’d ever faced—cleverer each and every time.
Yet, never clever enough. It always won the game. Always.
It squelched the feelings of foreboding by summoning up the wind, which rose to a screaming pitch, giving cover to its own roars of rage. The howling grunts of an animal, as it laughed in madness. The huge limbs of the trees were ripped apart, as it roamed the dark forest bellowing out its challenge.
“Come to me. Face me again and let us finish the game. It is time. Come to me!”
No, it couldn’t go into the house. Why? It never happened before, and wasn’t it strange…The One recognized it so soon in the game this time. So soon. The One sensed—knew when it was around. It mulled over all of it and more.
It had never lost before. What would it feel like to lose?
The One tried to escape and it had punished them all. It gloated in glee, reliving how it took revenge on almost all those the one loved. The best was yet to come. The One always ran and the evil always had to punish…it was the most exciting part of the game. Humans were so pitifully weak, so easy to kill.
They were no match for it.
Like the human called Leslie in the car. Far from these woods it had found her. She’d fought and it had taught her the meaning of pain. She’d taken a long time to die. Why did they fight so? Didn’t they know death could be sweet?
It laughed and the ground shook.
Or the little runt they called Charlie, and his puny friends. It’d tried not to kill so soon in the game, but couldn’t stop itself. The smell of blood was enticing. Their throats were frail and white, their faces bloodless. The blood lust had been too strong to resist. It had been so good.
If it had a mouth, it would have been grinning. There was no mouth because there wasn’t a face. It was nothing but the wind and the trees crying in the night. Nothing. But pure evil.
Was the beginning so long ago? When had it begun? Time had no meaning.
It should have been easy this time.
It became so enraged the earth and sky felt it and cringed. It’d been thwarted. For the first time someone or something interfered and helped them.
Something was protecting them.
It couldn’t enter the house. Strange.
Who was aiding them? What would dare defy its power?
It raved to the sullen sky and sped through the woods as if it were pacing its prison. It must be smarter than they were, it must lur
e The One away. There must be bait. Think. Think!
It flew above the ground, bouncing heavily against the trees. Think. What bait? It craved more blood. The game had gone on too long. The forbidden was the most it craved. It wanted, but couldn’t have.
It pictured their house shimmering, far away from its haven, the lush woods. The house was dark. Yet the center glowed. They couldn’t be touched. Unless…
It must find their weakness. They were such selfish, frightened creatures when faced with pain. It’d always been able to manipulate humans to do its dirty work and recalled fondly, how one time a girl had been dragged to a stake. Her people had thought she was a witch and had burned the flesh from her bones, gawking at her agony. It’d been so easy to manipulate and arrange what it wanted done back then. Humans had been even more vulnerable and stupid. It gloried in its victories of long ago. Weak, puny humans. There was a way to get them—there always was.
Sightless eyes looked and saw the child sleeping peacefully.
A child.
The laughter was vicious. It knew how to bring The One to its knees, knew now what to use as bait.
It would kill a child. Again.
It flew into the night, becoming a wispy cloud as it crawled across the huge pale moon.
In the house a woman shivered as if someone had walked across her grave.
A small child tossed and mumbled in his sleep. Sweat beaded his brow as his dreams turned to fitful nightmares.
It looked closely at the people in the house, and saw a smile flicker ever so softly on someone’s lips. A haunting smile as light as a feather.
The One smiled.
There was enough of the old power to protect them…for now.
But it knew they couldn’t hold out much longer, and when their defenses collapsed there’d be no stopping its wrath. It would have its revenge. It would have its blood.
Chapter Twelve
Evil Stalks the Night Page 12
