“Oh no!” Carmel squealed. Before her feet touched the floor she was levitated off the bed, almost to the ceiling and slammed onto the mattress.
Amanda froze in shock as she watched the woman’s body rise a second time. Carmel was gasping for breath as she was slammed to the bed again. Her hands scrabbled at the headboard as she rose a third time.
“Shit!” Amanda said, coming to her senses. She dove over Carmel’s body and grabbed the bedrail. The force was pushing them from below at the same time she felt herself clasped from above. From her head to her feet she struggled against the unseen power.
“Hold on Carmel!” she gasped as she felt them rise the first few inches from the sheets.
And just as suddenly, it was gone and they both collapsed onto the bed.
Amanda stayed on top of the gasping woman. Both of them had the wind knocked out of them. She stayed still for a terrified moment before easing her weight off. What the hell just happened?
She got off the bed and gently rolled Carmel over. The poor thing was gasping wild eyed, her hair a wreck. She reached out to Amanda and clutched her hands.
“It’s getting worse!” she hissed, her head flitting from side to side. “They didn’t even show themselves this time!”
She was right. There were no shadows, no warning at all. In a split second Carmel had gone from sitting on the side of her bed to being ricocheted off it. Amanda’s mind was a whirl, barely able to comprehend what had happened.
She kicked into autopilot. “Are you injured?” she asked as she disengaged Carmel’s grip.
“I…I don’t think so…” Carmel took a deep breath, wincing. My ribs hurt like hell.”
Amanda helped Carmel over to Jane’s bed, sitting her down on the soft mattress. She lifted Carmel’s blouse to examine her back. Her eyes flashed wider seeing the reddish fist-sized welt on the old woman’s lower rib. Carmel was able to sit and her breathing wasn’t labored was a good sign that the rib wasn’t broken. Her hands shook as she let Carmel’s blouse slip through her fingers.
“You got a nasty bruise, but I don’t think anything’s broken, thank God.”
Carmel pointed at the room door. “It was her! Somehow that bitch Linda caused this to happen! You have to keep her out of here. The attacks are getting worse, Amanda.” There were tears in her eyes.
Part of her wanted to scream and race out of the room but she knew she couldn’t abandon Carmel. The woman would surely die if she did that. This was totally foreign to her. As a nurse she’d always known what to do to ease a patient’s suffering. But this?
“What can I do to protect you Carmel? I just don’t know. Was there something you learned in Haiti, some kind of talisman or ritual we can do to stop this? There’s got to be something!” An answer surprised her when it popped into her head.
“You said that at one time you were a Christian, Carmel. What if you prayed?” Amanda could hardly believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. Will would think she’d completely lost her marbles. Prayer? It had always been a foolish superstition. But she’d be willing to try anything at this point.
Carmel jerked back looking at Amanda like she’d grown a second head. In a heartbeat her face softened and she nodded. “I’m sorry. It’s just that it’s been such a long time since I turned to God for help. I fear I’ve forgotten how to pray now.”
Amanda’s shoulders fell. “I can’t help you with that.” Her mind raced. There had to be something they could do to fight this thing! Her eyes opened wider when the next thought blared in her head. She fumbled for a moment grabbing her purse. Her trembling fingers closed on her cell phone and she yanked it free. “The internet! Maybe there’s something online that I can find.”
She took a seat next to Carmel and her thumbs flew on the tiny keyboard. ‘Shadow people’ Her head fell back as the screen filled with links to various articles. For the first time since that day began she felt that there might be a way of Carmel surviving this, at least until she was transferred to another facility.
“There. Try that one.” Carmel tapped the screen on a headline that read ‘Protection from Shadow People.’
Amanda clicked the link and held the phone so that each of them could read the text that followed. She skimmed the article until she came to the meat of it, which was fighting these things off.
...There is a good case to be made that shadow people are attracted to negative energy of all sorts. The first line of defense against shadow people is removing any negative energy in your life, be it personal or energy that surrounds you.
Ask for help if you feel the task is too great to tackle alone. Call upon any higher power—be it God, spirit, angel or ancestors- to help protect you.
Amanda let out a long sigh before looking over at Carmel. “I don’t know about you but to my mind, that wasn’t all that helpful. I can try being less frightened, even fake a degree of optimism but the prayer thing...that’s not me and from what you’ve said, it isn’t you either.”
A few taps on the door almost made Amanda jump out of her skin. When Angela Washington stepped into the room, her hand went to her chest sinking forward with relief.
“Sorry to disturb you, but Jane asked me to find the book she was reading before her fall out of bed. I won’t be a minute and then you can go back to whatever you were doing.” The young aide walked past Amanda and Carmel to rummage in the night table next to them. She picked the book up from the drawer and shivered. “It’s chilly in here. Do you want me to turn the heat up?”
Carmel’s hands covered her face, rocking back and forth on the bed. Her voice was defeated when she murmured, “It doesn’t matter what the heat setting is. This room will always be cold. It’s them.”
The young aide’s forehead furrowed, her gaze riveted on the old woman. She mouthed the words turning to Amanda. ‘Is she okay?’
What could she tell Angela that wouldn’t sound like she’d lost totally lost her mind? Certainly not that the old woman had just been attacked by some kind of supernatural shadow person!
Amanda finally managed to find her voice, “Please put it up as far as it will go, Angela. It is cold in here and I’m tired of piling on sweaters.” She put her phone back in her purse and looked at Carmel. “If you have to stay here, you might as well be warm. We’ve got to try to be positive, right?” She watched the young black woman pause at the thermostat and adjust the setting.
When the door closed after Angela, Carmel leaned forward rubbing the spot on her back where she’d taken the blow. “That hurts like hell. But how much worse would it have been if you weren’t here, Amanda?” Her red rimmed eyes narrowed when she turned to look at Amanda. “Help me up.”
Amanda helped Carmel to her feet. “I was a fool to change beds when Jane left. I just wanted the better spot near the window that she had…but that was a mistake.” Holding Amanda’s hand she tottered back to her original bed.
“Jane. She said that she was pushed from her bed. Just like now when you were lifted up in the air. Maybe it was these shadow things that hurt Jane. It seems worse in this bed.”
Carmel’s hands fell to her lap. “Of course.” She pointed at the bed. “Perhaps you can have it removed from the room?” She shivered.
“That’s a good idea. It can’t hurt, can it?”
Carmel shivered. “Oh dear…I can’t wait to get out of this place!”
“Yes. I just wish Dr. Stone had agreed to let you leave today. I don’t understand why he didn’t. This is crazy, waiting here for a bed in another facility.”
Carmel’s eyes shut as she nodded her agreement. “Just another day or so. That’s what he promised.” She reached for Amanda’s hand. “The fact that you’re here helps, dear. And as long as I know you’ll never leave my side, I’ll manage. It will work out, in the end.”
Amanda wasn’t sure she agreed with Carmel. But at least the old girl hadn’t lost her mind, right? Another part of Amanda felt the weight of guilt at her next thought. So far, the attacks fro
m whatever supernatural force aligned to do battle had zeroed in on Carmel and not her or the baby.
If Carmel was resigned to waiting for Stone to come through then she would stick it out, and protect the old woman as best she could.
TWENTY EIGHT
MIKE DROGAN ENDED THE CALL WITH HIS WIFE and sat at the small table in his hotel room. There was no way he was ready for bed even though normally he was sawing logs by this time of night. He couldn’t get the image of Dr. Stone out of his head after seeing him that afternoon. It didn’t seem possible that it could be the same guy from forty years ago but he knew in his heart that it was.
He scrolled through the list of contacts programmed into his cell phone until he found it, Dr. Rebecca Sloan. Surely there was some kind of blue book on physicians that other doctors referenced, if only to make referrals. She might be able to tell him something about Ryan Stone. He calculated the time difference from New York State to California before tapping the telephone icon to reach her.
After a few rings she answered. “Hello?”“
“Hi Becky. It’s Mike Drogan calling. I was the guy with Adam Rafferty in that resort you and your friends—”
“Mike! Of course I remember you! How could I ever forget the guy who quite literally saved my ass. What’s up?” And then in a rushed voice, “Is Adam okay? This isn’t about him—”
“No. No. Adam’s fine. I’m calling on another matter entirely. There’s a doctor I’m looking at here in Tupper Lake—Dr. Ryan Stone. He looks to be in his mid fifties. I’m trying to find out where and when he graduated.” Mike grabbed the pen and paper that were set next to the television.
“That’s an easy one. Actually you could probably find that out yourself. There is a state medical board website that lists all the physicians with their bona fides.”
“Oh.” Mike rubbed his temple with his other hand. Times like this he felt like a dinosaur thudding along on the supersonic highway of information.
“I’m online right now. I’ll get that for you. What did you say his name was again? Riley Stone?”
“No. Ryan Stone, Tupper Lake. Thanks Becky.”
“No problem.” A series of tiny clicks were the only thing that broke the silence as she searched for the information. “There. Got two hits on that name in New York State. The first one got his MD in 2008, set up practice in Albany and later moved to Syracuse in 2010. There is nothing listed after that date. The other is too old.” She snorted. “What am I saying? The other one’s got to be dead.”
“Whaddya mean?”
“The other. Ryan Stone graduated in 1921 from the University of Pennsylvania. I’m afraid that all there is about that entry but the guy is probably deceased by now anyway.”
“Doesn’t show where he practiced, huh?”
“No, afraid not.”
“Hmph. Neither of them line up age-wise with my guy. Nothing else, huh?
“Nope. Not in New York State. Why is this guy important to you? You’re not looking for a new doctor I presume.”
“No. Especially not this fellow. He’s the doc at a nursing home where my sister is. He’s a dead ringer for a guy I investigated forty years ago when I was a rookie on the police force—even down to an odd scar on his forehead. This may sound crazy but I swear it’s the same guy, Becky. That guy was in his mid-forties or so when we investigated him. He should be in his eighties by now.” Mike scowled picturing the young man with the ‘Y’ scar who had helped his sister-in-law into an early grave. If it was the same guy, he’d only aged what—less than ten years?
“You’re sure of the name? That doesn’t add up, Mike.”
“Yes, the name is correct. But you’re right; it doesn’t add up. Thanks for your help with this Becky.”
“Anytime. I owe you that.”
“No you don’t. Thanks again.” With that he ended the call. He was no further ahead in solving the mystery of Dr. Ryan Stone. And what was the connection with Carmel Turner?
Jane had said that the old woman had burned her house down which was why she was in the nursing home. Finding the location of that home and then talking to her neighbors was a start. He could do that before going to see Jane. She’d be happy he was digging around, even if so far he had buptkiss. Even so, his Spidey Sense was still screaming that there was something fishy about all this.
TWENTY NINE
WILL’S LEGS THRASHED in a tangled mess of bed covers, a cold sweat on his forehead waking him suddenly. Oh my God. Gulping a fast breath he stared up at the ceiling. The dream had been so real. His heart still hammered against his ribcage as he glanced at the bedside clock radio.
It was only twenty minutes after two in the morning.
He took deep breaths trying to calm himself even though elements of the nightmare played in his mind. Kelly had been in the dream, trapped in a room with dark monsters clawing at her. He’d been frantic pounding at the door, desperately trying to get in to save her while her screams sliced right through him. He blinked a few times trying to recall more details. Amanda had been there too! But she just stood staring, never lifting a finger to help while their daughter was being slaughtered.
He flicked the bedside light on and sat up. It was just a dream—probably the result of the conversation with Kelly earlier that night, the two of them joking about what costume she’d put together for her last Halloween. Ugh. Even the sound of that, ‘her last Halloween’ made him shudder after how scared he’d been in that dream.
Throwing back the covers, he got out of bed to go to the bathroom and get a drink of water. His legs were like rubber as he plodded across the floor. He thought of Amanda working that night, watching over a resident trying to manage a few catnaps in the process. The money was good but it would be far better to have his wife at home next to him—especially now that she was pregnant. She shouldn’t be working this hard.
Should he call her? No. He might wake her if she’d been able to get some sleep.
When he finished in the bathroom he made his way to the kitchen, pausing at the door to his daughter’s room. All was quiet in there, thankfully. Unlike him there were no bad dreams for his firstborn. Standing at the kitchen sink he downed half a glass of water in a few gulps. Still the urge to hear Amanda’s voice niggled.
He’d call her later, in the morning when she might have time—
‘PRAY FOR HER!’ The words blared in his head!
His eyes opened wide while he stood frozen to the spot. Where had that come from? The voice had jolted his mind, coming right out of the blue, practically yelling in the intensity!
‘Pray for her’?
He’d been thinking of Amanda, what she was probably doing at that moment and then that command to pray for her blasted through. He barely breathed as he replayed it in his head. ‘Pray for her’.
This had never happened before. In all the times he’d prayed as a young man and even after reconnecting with the church there’d never, ever been a voice. A voice booming a command to pray? It had come totally out of the blue, a blue shock! That shock convinced him. He hadn’t done it.
Independent from his own thoughts he’d received a command.
But why now?
He walked back to his room as if in a trance. First the nightmare and then that voice filling his head. This was too much. He woke up from a dream into the Twilight Zone!
He came to a stop midstride. A peaceful floating sensation flowed over him, infusing every cell in his body. That sense, more than anything, was proof that he had to obey. He’d been commanded by a higher source—God, Jesus, his Guardian Angel? It didn’t matter who had spoken, there was only one thing he could do.
Falling down on his knees at the side of the bed, he clasped his hands together and prayed. For Amanda, his wife and the best friend he’d ever had in the whole world. Let her be safe. ‘Please watch over her, Lord’. It became a mantra that he repeated as tears flowed freely down his cheeks. Why this was affecting him so profoundly was a mystery, but he trusted in it. This
was important.
“Please keep my daughter safe and also the child that Amanda is carrying. Help me be a better husband and father, to return to health and work. Lord, keep Amanda safe.” He stayed kneeling for a few more minutes, his tears trickling between his fingers when he covered his face.
Finally, he rose and climbed back into bed, worn out, but content.
He slept peacefully the rest of the night.
THIRTY
AT TWO TWENTY THAT MORNING AMANDA JERKED AWAKE spilling the notebook and pencil onto the floor beside her. Her gaze immediately darted to Carmel. She jumped to her feet seeing the dark shapes hovering inches above the old woman. Carmel’s body was rigid, her eyes so wide that the whites showed around the blue irises.
Amanda’s breath hitched in her chest as she stared at the horrifying scene on the bed. Carmel could be dead for all the movement or sound that came out of her.
What the hell were these things? They wavered and joined, but she could count six of them now! They would kill Carmel soon if they hadn’t already done it. She had to do something!
“Stop!” But her voice failed her when all she could do was to mouth the word. Her foot stepped forward propelling her closer to the morass of dark entities, so dark that light couldn’t penetrate. She was wooden, like a marionette but still she advanced. When she tried again, she managed to speak, “Leave her alone! Get out of here! Go back to wherever you came from.”
The forms elevated higher and turned to look at her. Their eyes glowed like hot embers and she could feel the anger pulse through them.
“In God’s name, leave her be.” Her eyes popped wider hearing the words she spoke. Where had that come from? Using God’s name?
Even more surprising was watching the dark shadow things slink away from Carmel, drifting over to the other side of the room.
Graveyard Shift Page 13
