by R. L. Weeks
She walked out of the library. I followed quickly, not wanting to be left alone again.
I trudged behind Grandma as she climbed the stairs. Finally, I reached the hallway to my room. I paused by Jackson’s first. Hesitantly, I hovered my hand over the door handle, then quietly creaked the door open.
Jackson was sleeping. She looked like she had been crying. She was still in her wet clothes. Oh, Jackie. I walked to her bedside and looked at her arm. The marks were small bruises. Tears prickled at my eyes. I had done that. I’d hurt my sister. My heart hurt.
I rushed to her suitcase and pulled out her pajamas. “Jackie, wake up.” I shook her gently. Her eyes fluttered open.
“Pierce…” She yawned. “What are you doing?”
“Get into your pajamas,” I said, offering her the dry clothes.
She sat up and stretched out her arms. “Thanks.” She climbed out of bed and stripped down. I looked away and stared at the wall.
“I’m sorry for the way I acted—”
“Don’t be.”
I pressed my lips together tightly. “I am. I don’t know what came over me.”
“We’ve both been under a lot of stress.”
I scoffed a laugh. “When did you become so mature?”
She cleared her throat. “I’m dressed.”
I turned around as Jackson finished changing her sheets, pulled a new comforter out of the closet, then snuggled back into bed and pulled the covers up to her neck.
I grabbed her wet clothes. “If you need anything, you come get me, okay?”
She nodded slowly. “Can you come cuddle with me like when we were kids?”
A small smile etched onto my face. “Of course. I’ll go get into my PJs then come back.”
I hurried for the door, and just as I was about to leave, she mumbled. “We’re going to be okay, sis.”
Warmth spread through my chest. That’s what I needed: my sister. The craziness would go away tomorrow. It was another day.
The corridor was dark and cold, only illuminated by the light seeping from Jackson’s room. After leaving her clothes in the bathroom to dry, I reached my bedroom and pushed the door open. I fumbled for my pajamas and quickly got dressed. The black-and-gold key fell out of my pocket. I’d almost forgotten about it. I put it on the bedside table, but Grandma’s warning struck, inspiring me to take it with me.
Key in hand, I walked back to Jackson. When I got there, she was asleep.
I gently snuggled under the covers and placed the key on the nightstand. My eyelids were growing heavier by the second. I swore as I drifted off to sleep I saw a shadowy figure watching from the corner of the room.
Chapter Ten
Jackson
The bitter cold crawled across my neck, stirring me from nightmares of creepy shadows, red demon eyes, and creatures from scary stories. I had forgotten about the stories Pierce had used to try to frighten me with until now, but as I stirred in bed, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was some truth to Vera’s tales about the vampires, wolves, and witches supposedly stalking the forests of Ridgeview.
I grabbed my wrist where Pierce had shocked me and felt a chill creep across my neck again, making the hair stand on end. I shot up and looked at the other side of the bed, expecting to see Pierce curled up next to me, but her side of the bed was empty. The dusty old comforter was peeled back, and I could still see the indentation of where her body had been, proving she had been in bed with me recently. I glanced at the window and saw the curtains blowing gently in the cool breeze. Warning bells blared in my head as I jumped off the bed and rushed to the wide-open window.
I gazed across the expansive lawn frantically. I wasn’t sure what I expected to see or what I was looking for. It wasn’t like Pierce had jumped out the window. We were two stories up, and she wasn’t suicidal or anything, even though her erratic behavior yesterday had worried me.
The sky was still overcast from the storm yesterday, covering the stars, and the new moon ensured there was no light at all on the hilltop. I shivered and pulled the window shut just before I saw a candle flicker to life in the forbidden cottage. Why would Pierce go there? Vera had been very stern in her warnings, and breaking the rules was my forte, not good-girl Pierce’s.
I rushed to my suitcase that still wasn’t unpacked and pulled out the designer clothing that would make me stand out like a sore thumb on Monday when I started school here. I threw pieces out wildly until I finally reached my jeans at the bottom. I slinked into a pair and pulled out Sean’s old hoodie. Tommy’s face flashed in my mind and I hesitated before pulling the hoodie over my head, suddenly feeling guilt over a boy I had known less than twelve hours. It felt like so much longer. I remembered the light in the cottage and pushed Tommy’s face from my mind as I ran out the door and tied the sweater around my waist instead.
Goose bumps raised on my skin as the crisp autumn air wrapped herself around me when I stood on the rickety back porch of the manor. At least the weather wasn’t much different from New York. Summer didn’t last long there either. I swallowed hard as my eyes scanned the lawn, dismal gardens, and crumbling statuary that decorated the once-grand Victorian gardens. Everything blurred together in the darkness, but I could still see the faint glow of a candle burning somewhere inside the creepy cottage a few hundred yards away.
I wished I knew where Vera kept the flashlights, but I didn’t want to face her wrath if I woke her to ask and told her Pierce was outside in the strictly forbidden cottage. No. I would have to do this all on my own. I took a deep breath and tried to keep my lips from trembling as I stepped off the porch onto the rotting wood steps. The lack of moonlight and overcast skies made it impossible to see what was underfoot, and I didn’t know the grounds well enough to see in the dark.
A stick snapped, and my head whipped toward the sound as my stomach dropped.
“Pierce?” I whimpered into the dark.
Another snap and I jumped back toward the door. Oh my God.
My heart raced as my hand roamed the door frantically in search of the knob as a beast jumped onto the porch.
“Fuck!” I screamed as I struggled against the door which had apparently locked behind me when I came outside.
The beast made a chirp-like sound, and I hesitantly opened one of my eyes. I peered through the darkness and saw two bright-green eyes staring curiously back at me. His little black hands held a dug-up carrot to his cute little masked face.
A raccoon.
Just a raccoon.
I opened my other eye and took a deep breath with my hand over my heart, hoping it would somehow calm me. Get it together, Jackson. Harrisons weren’t scaredy-cats. I tried to channel my dad’s bravery and my mother’s serenity so I could get up and find out what my sister was up to across the property.
I took another thirty seconds to gather myself and watch the cute little beast nibble on his carrot, then I stood. My palms were still sweaty, but I wiped them across my lap and started off down the steps. I walked briskly and tried to be aware of where my feet were as I made my way across the massive lawn. I was trying to be quiet, but not being able to see clearly in the dark made my journey to the cottage difficult. I was tripping on sticks, vines, and crumbled pieces of cobblestone pathways snaking through the dead gardens and overgrown weeds.
I kept my eyes trained on the glowing light inside the cottage and wondered what Pierce could possibly be doing inside the rundown shack. I was only a few feet away when a shadow passed by the window. I froze. That was not Pierce’s shadow. My sister was tall but thin, and whoever had passed by the window was definitely a man. Shit.
The person inside passed by the window again, and I dropped to my hands and knees to avoid being seen. My heart was racing again. Where the fuck was Pierce! Everything inside of me told me to run away from the cottage and go back inside the house, but Pierce was gone, and I had no idea where she was, so I couldn’t leave. I had to know for sure whether she was inside.
The grass was co
ld and dewy beneath my hands, and twigs dug into my knees as I crawled towards the cottage. I prayed he hadn’t seen me and I held my breath as I sat underneath the window, waiting for whoever it was to come outside to investigate. A full minute passed and I slowly let out my breath, satisfied he wasn’t coming outside. I was safe.
I turned to face the wall and gripped the edge of the windowsill. I was terrified thinking about what I might see when I looked through the window. Visions of Pierce’s body broken and bleeding on the floor—or worse—plagued my thoughts as I slowly lifted myself to peer through the window into the cottage.
A fat, white pillar candle sat on a large wooden table in the center of the room. The table was littered with glass jars full of different liquids, and others contained herbs. Large books were stacked around the table, covered in spiderwebs and dust, some open as though whoever was here last left in the middle of studying for a huge exam.
I heard movement. I turned my head and saw a man rifling through a trunk at the bottom of the bed nestled in the corner. I ducked again, my heart pounding. The glow of the candle was enough to illuminate the small room and cast a light on the man’s light-brown skin, messy dark hair, and five-o’clock shadow.
I had to look again to see what he was up to, so I took a deep breath and peered barely an inch over the windowsill. The man wore a black leather jacket, but he was turned away from me now, so I couldn’t see his face. I gasped and noticed what was hanging on the walls of the cottage.
Dozens of snarling, giant wolf heads hung on the walls. They reminded me of the taxidermic deer heads Father hung in the ski cabin we had in Quebec he’d also used as his hunting cabin. I gasped and dropped back to the cold dirt. I had figured out why Vera didn’t want us in the cabin at least. The place was terrifying. The wolves looked like they could jump right out of the walls and rip you apart, and they were much larger than any wolves I had ever seen at the zoo.
I hadn’t seen Pierce anywhere inside the cottage though, which was as much of a relief as it was an even bigger concern. Where the hell was my sister, and who was the man inside the morbid cabin of death? I shuddered. I shouldn’t have been too surprised. After all, Dad had been a hunter. He had to have learned from somewhere, and he had grown up in this old house. They were probably wolves Dad or Grandfather, whom we’d never met, had shot in the mountains or here in the hills. Something about these creatures unnerved me and increased my desire to get as far away from the cottage as possible.
I stood slowly, letting my back slide along the siding of the house to the right of the window. I took a deep breath and turned my head to look inside once more and came face-to-face with the man inside.
He smirked and suddenly disappeared from the window as though he hadn’t been there at all. I screamed and took off running straight ahead into the dark. The black skies were clearing as dawn began to breach the horizon, casting purple and orange hues over the landscape. I could see the manor up ahead clearly and was never so happy to be racing toward the ghastly place I had to call home now.
I glanced back over my shoulder at the dilapidated cottage and noticed the candle flicker out. I leaned into my sprint and tried to go faster, desperate to make sure I could outrun the man I knew was inside. I had to find Pierce, and I had to find her right now.
My lungs burned and heaved as I neared the back porch of the manor. I launched myself up the steps and collapsed onto the rickety swing, not even caring about the mildew stains and streaks of dirt it was coated with.
The back door flung open, and I looked up and saw my sister standing in the doorway, her face full of anger.
“Where the hell have you been, Jackson?” she demanded.
“Where have I been?” I scoffed. "More like where have you been! I woke up in the middle of the night, and you weren’t in bed. So where were you, huh?”
“What are you talking about? I’ve been in bed all night. I woke up this morning, and you were the one out of bed, and my key from Grandma was missing. You need to give it back to me, now.”
Pierce’s voice was stern as she held her arm out, palm up, and waited for me to place a key she was looking for in her hand.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have a key to anything. What key did Vera give you?”
I stood from the swing and walked toward my sister. Her skin was much paler than usual, and her bright-green eyes were dull and mossy with dark circles underneath as though she hadn’t slept in days.
“Pierce, what’s going on? Are you okay?”
I reached out to take her hand, but she jerked away.
“Don’t be a bitch, Jackson. Give me the key,” she demanded again before setting her mouth in a grim line and lowering her tired eyes to glare at me.
“I really don’t have any key, Pierce. Why are you acting like this? You need to go to bed. I think you might be sick.”
Pierce huffed, turned around, and stomped back into the house. I tiptoed behind her, making sure to keep my distance a bit. Pierce had been acting so strange lately. I wasn’t sure what she might do anymore. My calm, rational, diplomatic big sister seemed to be coming unhinged since we’d gotten to the manor. First seeing people that aren’t there, then the shock I’d felt when she grabbed me, and now disappearing in the middle of night and raving about some key? I wondered if I should wake Vera but knew there was nothing the old woman could do—or even would do—to help me figure out what was wrong with Pierce. I supposed it could just be a reaction to stress and grief, but she was acting like a totally different person, and I needed her to be her old self so I could tell her about the man in the cottage. I had no idea who he was or what he was doing, but I knew I would never forget his storm-cloud eyes or the way he’d disappeared into thin air the moment we locked eyes. Were the people Dad had hurt in his pyramid schemes coming after us now? Were we safe here anymore? Were we ever?
I closed the heavy wooden door behind me and locked the dead bolt. I decided to leave Pierce alone for a while and didn’t follow her when she decided to go back upstairs to our bedrooms without saying other word to me. I desperately wanted to make sure the doors and windows were all locked, but I also knew with as many doors and windows there were in this large manor, the intruder out back could very well already be inside waiting for me. I jogged through the kitchen, formal sitting room, and down the hall to the foyer. Luckily, the front door was locked, and as I peered through the yellowed glass of the windows bordering the ornate door, I only saw a few rabbits, crows, and a deer, far off on the edge of the property—no handsomely terrifying man with skin the color of roasted almonds and eyes that looked like the fog always covering the hillside and valley down below.
I checked the side door and basement doors and found them both locked. The large double doors at the end of the upstairs hallway leading to the forbidden east wing were also locked. I let out a sigh and felt the need for sleep rush over me as my adrenaline finally wore off. I finally felt a little safer. I still didn’t know where Pierce had been last night or why she was lying to me about being in bed till morning, but I knew I wasn’t going to get any answers right now.
Bells rang through the house as the grandfather clock on the upstairs landing acknowledged the morning with seven loud gongs. Vera would be waking soon and was probably expecting Pierce to cook breakfast again. The old woman hadn’t shown me one ounce of love or empathy yet, so I didn’t see why I should show her any, and I wasn’t hungry, so I wasn’t going to cook for just her.
I sulked into my bedroom and locked the door. Pierce’s body’s imprint on my bed had worn away, and no one would’ve guessed she had spent the night in my bed, though she claimed to have. I fully intended to take a nap and then wake up and get to the bottom of what was going on with Pierce. I jumped as knocks sounded at my bedroom window. Tiny pebbles were colliding with it.
I slinked along the wall and hid behind the curtain. I didn’t know what to expect when I looked down. My best guess was the man from the cottage, but
someone was obviously going through a lot of trouble to get my attention, and I wanted to know who it was. I pushed the curtain back the slightest bit and smiled.
Standing below my window, his long brown hair tucked up into a beanie and wearing a crimson-red sweater and fitted jeans, was Tommy, and he had coffee. Napping, and the interrogation I had planned, would have to wait.
Chapter Eleven
Pierce
My head was pounding as I collapsed onto the old, dirty bed. I had barely been able to sleep in since we’d moved into the manor. I rubbed my temples and tried to think. Where was the key? I believed Jackson when she said she didn’t know what I was talking about, but I still wanted to know why she was outside so early in the morning.
The entire night was a blur. I remembered changing into my pajamas and then crawling into bed with my sister, but everything afterward was a mystery. I didn’t recall falling asleep or getting out of bed, but the black soot that had covered my hands and was now rubbed through my hair was evidence enough something had happened to me last night.
I stood from the bed and treaded to the large vanity my suitcase was propped up against. I stripped off my clothing and stood in front of the mirror, examining myself for any signs of what might have happened to me. I had no marks, other than the ugly red blotch of a birthmark on my left hip. Just black soot, or charcoal, or chalk—I couldn’t tell exactly what it was—was all over my hands.
My hair looked awful. It was greasy and hung in sweaty strands halfway down my back. I needed to shower and go to sleep. I was exhausted and wanted to chalk the day up to a wash and forget last night ever happened. Why can’t our lives just be normal for once? I begged the universe as I sulked out of my bedroom and down the hall toward the bathroom.
The warm water was a welcome reprieve. I rested my forehead on the blue-tile walls of the shower and felt my muscles slowly unknot under the water pressure, which was remarkably good for such an old house.
