Evil Stalks the Night

by Kathryn Meyer Griffith

  Jeremy shook his head in bewilderment. “What the—?”

  “You must be her son.” The boy’s voice was a dry rustle of autumn winds.

  Jeremy cocked his head. Had the boy actually spoken, or were the words only thoughts in his head? Jeremy’s heart beat wildly inside his chest and he opened his eyes wide. His fingers clung tightly to the branches as if he were worried they’d slip away or reality would. “Who are you?”

  “You don’t know?” The strange boy’s eyebrows rose and a sneer spread across his impish face.

  “No.”

  The eyes betrayed surprise and then unexpectedly, boredom. “You really don’t know who I am.” It was a statement. “She’s never told you about me, then, has she? I never thought she’d forget me so easily.” The voice was noncommittal. The boy was stroking the cat again, thoughtfully.

  Jeremy felt another twinge of fear. “Who are you?” he repeated. He didn’t know he’d begun to inch his way higher in the tree, as if distance meant safety. The boy below noticed it with a mirthful grin and glowing eyes. Jeremy was suddenly very afraid.

  “I might tell you someday, if you’re good.” The boy winked. For one heartbeat Jeremy could have sworn the image was dematerializing. Was it the play of the light and shadow? Yes, that had to be it.

  “I’ve waited a long time, Jeremy. You don’t know.” The cat didn’t move. Not even an inch. Not even the tail. In fact, Jeremy could have sworn the animal was as stiff as a board. A shiver went through him as the boy seemed to waver like a dim figure in a thick mist.

  Jeremy didn’t know what else to say or do. It was getting dark and he had to go home. Night was not the time to be in this place, especially with that thing below him. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but he didn’t really want to find out, either.

  He wanted to go home.

  “I’ve been so lonely. You don’t know.” The thing below him was whining, yet only the voice was real now. It had disappeared into thin air. “No one ever comes to play with me anymore. I used to have so many brothers and sisters. A mom, dad and a grandma. Now they’re all gone.” The bodiless voice kept talking.

  Jeremy felt a crazy urge to laugh, but he was too scared. He looked around the tree, everywhere, but the boy was really gone. Or at least his body was. The voice continued to drone on first from one place and then another. Freaky.

  “So lonely.”

  “Oh, I know what you mean. Why, I’ve been pretty lonely myself.” Jeremy searched for a shadow or a hint of the person he was speaking to, but there was still no one there. It was unnerving to talk to nothing.

  It didn’t matter.

  He wanted a friend so badly he would have talked to an animated scarecrow if one would have talked to him. He’d take what he could get and not complain. So what if this boy was a little weird? A little…invisible?

  A branch cracked sharply behind him and suddenly the boy with the cat was sitting there, grinning. Solid. As real as Jeremy himself. Jeremy tried to convince himself his eyes had played tricks and this boy was no different than he was.

  Fat chance! A tiny voice taunted wickedly in his ear. Jeremy shook his head and smiled nervously at the other boy. He was so close. Jeremy could have reached out and touched him. But for some reason, he didn’t. If he was making this up in his head, he didn’t want to know.

  “You know my name. So, what’s yours?”

  The other boy stayed silent. He was looking towards the woods as if he could hear something Jeremy couldn’t. “What’s your name?” Jeremy insisted.

  “Haven’t I told you who I am?” The face was a mask that hid something unspeakable.

  “No. Come on, you can tell me. Why is it such a secret?”

  “Because.” The boy’s eyes were glowing, his features twisted. Jeremy wasn’t sure he was even looking at a human face any longer. He about decided he’d had enough of this cat-and-mouse game and was going to high-tail it for home before it got dark. This kid gave him the shivers.

  “Because I’m not supposed to be talking to you. I could get in trouble.”

  Red-rimmed eyes floated in a ghostly white face and the voice sounded like a wail. “But…you’re her son. She was nice to me. Nicer than the others. I liked her.” He smiled an inhuman smile, his eyes glued to something off in the distance Jeremy couldn’t see. “I want to help her but it won’t allow me. It would hurt me if it thought I betrayed it.”

  The stench of fear and some other indescribable odor almost gagged Jeremy. It was engulfing him, coming from everywhere at once.

  Jeremy slapped a hand over his nose and mouth and fought to keep the contents of his stomach where it was. “Whew, that smell!” It was the worst thing he’d ever smelled, like something had died.

  “I know. I know. Poor Jeremy.” The boy giggled. “It does smell awful, doesn’t it?”

  “It’s not funny.” Jeremy climbed to the ground. The kid was bad news and all of a sudden he wanted to be home more than anything. The shadows were lengthening and the sun was low in the darkening sky. When Jeremy looked up at the tree again the boy was gone. He rubbed his eyes, but he was definitely alone. There was no other child anywhere. There was nothing. His mind rebelled. Spooks and goblins weren’t real. They weren’t!

  Jeremy was terrified. He had to get away while he could. Before it came back.

  He retraced the way he’d come, whistling to keep up his shredded courage. He refused to look left or right and made darn sure he didn’t turn around. It shocked him when a voice spoke into his ear. “You want to see something neat?”

  It was the boy! Startled, Jeremy felt his skin crawl. He threw a guarded look over his shoulder. The kid was standing right behind him.

  Jeremy was too afraid to run. No telling what the thing would do if he did. If it was even real. The best thing to do was act natural. Talk to it. Fake it out. Don’t panic.

  “Only if you tell me your name. I don’t go with anyone who won’t tell me his name.” Jeremy was shaking inside.

  “Charlie. My name’s Charlie.” He waited for a reaction.

  Jeremy stared at him. Why did that name sound familiar? He racked his brain but couldn’t come up with anything. “Charlie.” He tried it out. “Okay, Charlie—lead. I’ll follow.”

  Charlie led him into the field. Jeremy hung back for a while, afraid, and then plunged into the weeds to where Charlie was standing and pointing at something hidden in the undergrowth.

  Jeremy was surprised when he saw what it was. Rocks. Dozens of sparkling rocks piled in little mounds. Were they his great grandmother’s lost rocks, the ones his mom and uncle had been talking about that had been in the rock garden?

  “I’ve been saving them. Taking care of them for her.” Charlie was grinning. “She always loved Mom’s pretty rocks. You can take them to her. Do you think she’ll be pleased?” The voice was eager.

  Jeremy was stunned. He stared at Charlie through half-closed eyes. He could only bob his head. He dropped down and collected as many of the rocks as he could carry. It was expected of him. He’d gather an armful and then…run.

  “Thanks, Charlie.” The whispered words about choked him. He wanted to run so bad, he could taste it. Something was terribly wrong here.

  “Charlie?”

  But Charlie wasn’t there anymore.

  Jeremy trembled and rose to his feet. He’d stuffed rocks in his pockets and his hands were full. He walked, faster and faster.

  “Wait, I have something else to show you!”

  Jeremy glanced back and saw Charlie floating over the gullies coming after him. Jeremy moaned and began to run. “Sorry, I can’t. It’s getting late and I promised Mom I’d be home before dark. I have to go now.” His voice had gotten thin and high. The sun was nearly down and colder air was seeping in as the light slipped away. His nerves were shot. The
night was coming alive. Jeremy was running for his life.

  “Wait, Jeremy!” The boy, a shadow, floated along in his wake. No matter how fast Jeremy ran, the thing was right there at his shoulder, laughing. He couldn’t be shaken. “Wait! I have so much more to show you. Out in the woods,” it cried. “You have to come, please!” The floating boy sounded alarmed and Jeremy liked that development even less.

  It wanted something. Jeremy was gasping for breath and his chest was about to burst. Yet he kept on running. Faster. Faster. The thing hovered constantly at his shoulders, imploring him to stop and come deeper into the woods.

  Jeremy saw hatred glowing red in the boy’s unearthly eyes and saw the woods shimmering hungrily back in the distance. The ominous shadows within swirled into human-like shapes that seemed to beckon him as well.

  “Come. Come here to us!”

  Charlie, the human boy, evaporated. The thing that he really was floated near the edge of the woods, glaring at him. Spitting and hissing, it was furious Jeremy had gotten away. For an insane moment, Jeremy had the impulse to swing around and follow the thing into the woods. It seemed such a peaceful, soothing, lovely place.

  “Come.”

  “No!” Jeremy had been momentarily confused and pivoted around to peer into the line of misty trees. Smiling, his eyes flashed a defiance that mocked the power of whatever lurked in the forest. He knew better.

  “Don’t you dare…don’t you dare…go!” The wind screamed. The air around him turned into a fury and something began to wail.

  As he turned and continued running from the woods, a thousand tiny serpents, began to hiss and Charlie merged into the trees.

  “Goodbye, Charlie,” Jeremy yelled. The rocks were clunking in his pockets and his arms ached from the weight of those he carried. He lost some as he jumped the gullies.

  Something whipped across his face and he felt a stinging sensation down his left cheek and across his throat. He yelped, but didn’t falter a step. Terror and pain seemed to make him fly.

  By the time he reached his house and knew he was safe, he fell into a heap on the bottom porch step. It was only then he allowed himself to check his face. When he took his fingers away and examined them, they were covered with blood, as was the front of his shirt. It was a miracle he’d made it home.

  Something had scratched him deep into his flesh.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I told Jeremy to go out and play.

  One look at Detective Raucher’s face and I knew why he was here. Later, I grasped my mistake in letting Jeremy out the door. I shouldn’t have let him go, knowing something was waiting, lurking, to get its claws into us. But in the moment my mind only registered the worry in the detective’s face when he came to me for help.

  I was too near the fire to fool with it. I knew too much, most of it unbelievable, and I was scared for all of us.

  “Let’s sit down. Can I get you a cup of coffee or something?” The detective had already seen Jim in the doorway between the front room and the kitchen and had acknowledged him with a curt nod of his head. I supposed when he’d said he wanted to see me alone, he’d meant no children. I didn’t need to guess what he was there to tell me. I felt numb inside and when I looked at Jim he was standing against the wall, his fingers rubbing his temples as if his head hurt.

  The detective smiled, a half-hearted smile, for the first time since he’d walked in the door. “A cup of coffee sounds real good. I need it.” He settled down on the couch across from me and I noted the weariness in his movements. “Hopefully it’ll help me to stay awake. I’ve been up most of the night.” He let out a soft sigh.

  I got up to get him his coffee.

  I’d wanted to dislike Detective Raucher, but today he wasn’t the same arrogant man he’d been when I first met him. Today he seemed to be a troubled soul and my heart went out to him. “Have you eaten? I can offer you a sandwich or something, Detective.”

  “Call me Ben. A sandwich sounds great. How kind. Thank you.”

  I fancied he was looking at me differently, considering something. For some reason, possibly his humbleness, I said, “I’ll get you some coffee and a bacon sandwich. Do you take cream in your coffee?”

  “A little. A little sugar as well.”

  I went into the kitchen and prepared it, my heart fluttering in my chest. I knew why he came and what he wanted. I was on edge and didn’t know what to do. I could hear him and my brother speaking in low tones in the other room and found myself formulating little lies and half-truths to get out of helping him. But no matter what I came up with, it was going to sound bad. He’d want to know why I wouldn’t help.

  I stopped myself, thinking I might be jumping the gun. There was a chance he wasn’t here to ask for my help at all. Could be he didn’t know about me.

  When I entered the front room they were both sitting on the couch in silence and looked up at me as if I’d interrupted something.

  “Here’s your sandwich, Ben.” I smiled, uncomfortable at using his first name when I hardly knew him. They were staring at me as if I were an alien who’d just strolled into the room and Jim’s eyes said more than a hundred words. I set the mug of hot coffee on the coffee table. “I hope one sugar is enough, because that’s what I put in it.”

  “Perfect. Thank you.” Ben put the coffee to his lips. I sat down in the chair in front of him, waiting. He ravaged the sandwich in record time.

  “It’s all right. I’ve got more, if you’re that hungry.” I was trying to put off the inevitable, as he was. With a sheepish grin he handed me his empty coffee cup. I refilled it and sat down again.

  Now was the time. None of us had any small talk left.

  “Well, I guess, it’s down to business,” I announced. Jim seemed to be off in his own little world so it surprised me when he inserted, “Sarah, Ben knows about you. Your gift, that is.”

  “You do, do you?” I addressed Ben. Why did I always feel guilty when someone found out about my psychic abilities? A thief caught with his hands in the till or the child who’s caught in a blatant lie. Over the years, I came to think it was better to deny my abilities. Sometimes it was easier than facing them. Sitting there facing Ben, I remembered what happened after Charlie’s death. The way the police looked at me when I’d told them everything I knew. They behaved as if I were crazy—the way most people reacted. Always the same. I found myself hoping Ben wouldn’t look at me that way. I didn’t want anyone to look at me like that anymore.

  “The first day I met you, your name rang a bell, but I didn’t make the connection until later. You’re that famous psychic who made all the papers some years ago with those murder cases.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

  I raised an eyebrow at him.

  “I know. I checked it out. I have friends in the Benchley police department, so I had access to your files.” He shook his head, his expression apologetic, as if to defend himself. “I’m sorry, but I had more than enough reason to pull those files. I wanted to know more about you.”

  “So that’s how you found out?” My voice was a little too caustic.

  “In the beginning I was simply curious about you. A mystery woman suddenly shows up to reclaim an old dilapidated house, one rumored to be haunted and connected to a family that once lived and died around here. I’ve been a detective too long to pass that up.”

  He offered a small smile and I found myself thinking, he really was a handsome man when he wasn’t acting so macho.

  “Then one thing led to another and your name was mentioned, by one of the old-timers at the station who remembered you as a child. He said he talked to you once about something that happened here about fifteen years ago.” He was hesitating, an awkwardness in his voice. His eyes were on my face, waiting for a reaction.

  I exchanged a look with Jim who was standing as still as stone. I kne
w I was on my own. “And?”

  “The guy told me the story of your family and, later, through the old records, I pieced together the rest of it. You two are the only ones left,” he spoke softly. “I’m sorry to pry. It happened.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “Sarah, there’s been another murder.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut so he wouldn’t see the pain. I heard Jim groan, “Oh, no.”

  “A little boy about ten years old.” He waved his hand towards the trees. “He was reported missing yesterday evening and we’ve been out combing the area for him since. We found him this morning near the woods. Mauled to death.” Ben appeared to be choking on his words and they were filled with angry grief.

  “You want me to come in on the case and help as a psychic, right?” I was trying to sound indignant, as if he were bothering me, but I didn’t let him answer. “I’m sorry about the child, Detective. But I can’t help you.” My eyes slid to Jim’s for support, but he was off in dreamland somewhere and I wondered again if he was really okay. Lately, he didn’t seem to be present. “If you read my files, you know I don’t offer my help to police departments anymore.”

  Ben interrupted me. “Oh, I know about your unfortunate experiences. They shouldn’t stop you from helping, if you can. On the whole, you had an unbelievable track record. So what if you made a couple of mistakes? You can still help. Think of the little boy.”

  “You don’t understand. I don’t do that anymore.” I trotted out the excuses, feeling uneasy as I always did when I avoided the truth. “My life was turning into a three-ring circus and I wouldn’t, couldn’t allow it to go on. Do you know what it’s like to have people calling you all hours of the day and night wanting help? More help than one person can give? Crazy fanatical people calling you a freak, or wanting to cash in on your gift, while others wanted to lock you up in a windowless room and tap your brain?

  “I was sick of it. I’d turned into an oddity in a side show. I had a husband and a child, Detective, and I’d had enough. I have to start thinking about myself and my son. It’s one of the reasons I came here. I had to get away from all of it.”