by Amy Cross
“Of course,” he says, opening the door all the way until he's silhouetted against the distant windows on the far side of the apartment. “You can come in, if you want.”
“What about...”
I pause, before figuring that maybe I could at least pop inside.
“It's just me,” he continues, stepping aside as I head through the doorway. “I'm all alone.”
“Is Victoria out?”
“She is.”
I turn as he shuts the door behind me.
“Seriously?” I ask.
He smiles, but it's a weak, scared smile.
“Wonders never cease, do they?” he says, taking my coat. “She's been gone for a few hours now.” He looks past me, almost as if he's scared of seeing something, and then he hangs my coat on a hook. “The apartment is so very quiet without her, don't you think? I never realized it'd be this quiet after she was gone.”
“Enjoying some time alone, huh?”
He mutters something under his breath, something I don't quite catch, as he heads past me and shuffles into the kitchen. I think he said something about a test. Following, I can't help noticing that he's right, the apartment does seem quiet. And empty, somehow, as if the whole place has fallen silent. By the time I get to the kitchen door and see Jonathan putting some coffee on to brew, I can't help wondering whether something's wrong. His hands are trembling, and I've never seen him look quite so pale. Maybe my initial instinct was spot on.
“Is Sophie home?” I ask, trying to sound casual.
He turns to me, as if he's startled by the question.
“Sophie?” he stammers.
“She's still staying with you guys, isn't she?”
“Oh...”
He stares at me for a moment, and then he glances at the freezer. After several seconds of contemplation, he turns to me again.
“She's here,” he says cautiously, “or at least... It's complicated.”
“Sure.” I wait for him to explain, but now he's just staring at me as if he's caught in the headlights. “So is she actually here right now?” I continue. “Is she in the apartment?”
“Well, um...”
Another pause, as if the question is a difficult one.
“No,” he manages finally, “I don't suppose so. Not really. No.”
“Is she out with Victoria?”
He nods. “They're in the same place, yes.”
“I can't imagine how she managed to drag Victoria out of the apartment,” I reply, as he finally sets the coffee machine on and goes to fetch mugs from the cupboard. “Don't take this the wrong way, but we've all been talking about how Victoria was becoming kind of reclusive. Frankly, I thought maybe she wouldn't ever leave the house again.”
“Yes, well, she's gone now,” he replies, before pausing and staring at the mugs in his hands. “I'm not entirely sure she'll ever...”
I wait for him to finish.
Okay, something is really wrong here.
“Now that she saw it,” he whispers, his eyes wide with shock as he continues to stare at the mugs. “Maybe that's how it works...”
Again I wait, and this time he seems lost in thought. Finally I step over toward him, but he doesn't respond until I get closer and place a hand on his arm.
“Jonathan? Are you sure you're okay?”
He turns to me.
“I don't think she's going to come back,” he stammers.
“What do you mean?”
“Victoria. I think she saw the truth, and now she's gone forever.” He turns and looks toward the freezer. “She finally saw it. And then she turned to me, and I saw the realization in her eyes, and then suddenly she was gone. Before, even when she wasn't around, I could at least feel her close. But I think once she truly understood what had happened to her, beyond the point where her fuddled mind could forget again, she was somehow taken away to... I suppose to wherever they go once they're gone from here.”
I wait for him to crack a smile, for him to add the punchline to some lame joke, but instead he simply looks around the kitchen for a moment.
“For a few minutes after she first disappeared,” he adds, “there was a strange smell in the air. I'm not sure, but it might have been sulfur. Then again, I might be imagining that part.”
“What are you on about?” I ask, trying not to let myself get too worried just yet. “Where exactly did Victoria and Sophie go?”
“I don't know,” he replies. “Honestly. I mean, your guess is as good as mine. Maybe they all go to the same place, or maybe the good ones and the bad ones go to different places, or maybe...”
His voice trails off again.
“Yes,” he adds finally, “it was sulfur, I'm sure of it.”
“Jonathan,” I say after a moment, “can you just answer one question for me? I really want to know where Victoria and Sophie are. Can you tell me that?”
“I told you where Victoria is,” he replies, “and as for Sophie...”
He looks toward the empty doorway.
“Sophie was over there,” he continues, “on the floor. I wasn't sure what to do with her for a while, and she eventually she woke up. I talked to her, but I had to keep her quiet. I thought Laura might show up, but...”
I wait for him to finish.
“Laura?” I ask. “Laura who? Which Laura?”
“And then you knocked on the door,” he says, turning to me again, “and I had to act fast. I had to open the door, I knew that, but first... You must understand, Elliot, that Laura can probably see every move we make. She's probably watching us even now. I keep getting a very funny feeling near the dining table.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask. “Jonathan, where is -”
Suddenly I hear a bumping sound from nearby. I turn and look across the kitchen, convinced that the sound came from somewhere in here, even though there's clearly no-one else in the room. A moment later, however, something starts banging inside the freezer, accompanied by what sounds like a muffled cry.
“Oh,” Jonathan says flatly, without any emotion in his voice at all, “I guess she woke up.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Today
Racing across the room, I grab the freezer's lid and pull it open. Immediately, Sophie gasps and bursts out, bleeding from a wound on her lip and shivering violently. There's another body beneath her, and I think it might be Victoria. Before I have a chance to say anything, Sophie grabs my arms and clings to me, and she seems to be trying to say something even though she can't get any words out. She's freezing cold, and I wipe frost from her hair before turning to see that Jonathan is watching us calmly.
“That's bad timing,” he mutters. “Another minute and she would have suffocated.”
“What the hell is going on here?” I stammer, helping Sophie all the way out of the freezer. She immediately collapses in my arms, but I manage to hold her up and help her out into the lounge area, where I set her down on one of the sofas. “Sophie, listen to me!” I say firmly, as her whole body continues to shudder. Her teeth are chattering wildly. “Sophie, it's me! You're okay!”
Shaking violently, she stares at me with shock in her eyes, and then she turns and looks as Jonathan arrives in the doorway.
“What are you doing here?” I shout at him, reaching into my pocket for my phone. “She almost died!”
“Are you sure she didn't die?” he asks, coming over to join us. “It can be very difficult to tell at first. They just seem confused, but -”
“She needs an ambulance,” I stammer, starting to dial 999. “She's almost -”
Suddenly Jonathan grabs my phone and pulls it away. I try to reach for it, but he sets it on the floor and crushes his heel against the screen.
“What are you doing?” I ask, as I feel a slow sense of dread creeping up through my chest. I watch him for a moment, but he seems utterly calm and I'm starting to think that he's not right in the head. “Was that Victoria?” I continue. “Jonathan, is Victoria in the freezer?”
/>
He pauses, before nodding.
I get to my feet.
“But don't worry about her,” he continues. “She's been there for months now. Six, almost seven.”
I open my mouth to ask what he means, as he takes a step backward and looks around at the rest of the gloomy apartment.
“It was Laura,” he says finally, “not me. Laura made her do it, in the bathroom. I didn't believe her at first, I thought it had to be some kind of mania. But then Victoria came back, and I had to put the body somewhere so that there wouldn't be any questions. I think she was telling the truth about Laura, though. I'm sure of it. She's -”
Suddenly he turns and looks toward the corridor that leads to the bedrooms.
“She's here now,” he continues. “She's been watching us all along.”
“Laura?” I reply, my mind racing as I try to figure out exactly what kind of madness has gripped his mind. “Do you mean Laura Mears?”
He turns to me. “We don't know any other Lauras. Do we?”
“Laura Mears is dead!” I hiss, as Sophie continues to shiver on the sofa. “Laura Mears died ten years ago!”
“I know,” he replies.
“So what the hell are you talking about?” I shout, before realizing that this can wait until later. Right now, I have to get Sophie out of here and make sure she's okay. “It's okay,” I tell her as I reach down and start helping her up from the sofa. She clings to me, still chattering and struggling to get words out. “I'm taking you to a hospital,” I continue, turning to lead her out of here, “and then -”
Before I can finish, I spot a figure standing in the doorway that leads to the master bedroom. Shrouded in darkness, the figure is barely visible, although from the silhouette I can just about tell that it's a woman.
“Who's that?” I ask, still holding Sophie up but not daring to head through to the hallway. Keeping my eyes fixed on the figure, I can't help thinking that maybe Jonathan is involved in something more dangerous than I'd realized. And maybe he has an accomplice.
“I told you,” he says after a moment. “Laura's watching us.”
“Laura's dead!” I hiss, turning to him.
“I know. And now she's watching us.”
I turn back to look at the figure, which still seems content to simply stare at us from the shadows.
“She's not happy about how she was treated,” Jonathan continues. “First she got Victoria, then Nick, then Lynn. Now I suppose it's our turn.”
“Laura Mears is dead!” I say firmly, struggling to keep Sophie up. “We all know that! We all -”
“It's her!” Sophie gasps, her teeth still chattering as she holds me tight. “Elliot, please! Run!”
“It's not her,” I reply, still watching the figure. “It can't be. Unless she survived that night and -”
“She didn't survive that night,” Jonathan says, interrupting me. “Of course she bloody didn't. We all know what happened to her, even if we don't want to admit it. There was the phone call she made from the beach when the tide was coming in. And then there was -”
“She's dead!” I hiss, feeling a shudder pass through my chest as I stare at the figure. “I know she is! She has to be!”
“She died ten years ago, Elliot,” Jonathan replies. “You of all people should have no doubt in that regard.”
“This is sick!” I shout, supporting Sophie as I lead her past the sofa. “This is some kind of game, and I'm not going to play! You're all -”
Stopping suddenly, I'm just about able to make out the features of the figure, and I see to my horror that it really is her. It's Laura.
And she's smiling as she watches me.
“No,” I whisper, “it's just... It's some kind of lookalike or...”
My voice trails off.
This can't be happening.
“I imagine she was the girl who was with Nick on the night he died,” Jonathan says matter-of-factly. “And you said it yourself, Lynn was talking about seeing her right before she fell onto the tracks. Well, I assure you, Victoria claimed to have seen her right before she cut her own throat with a piece of broken glass. Of course it's typical of Victoria to have refused to die. She was always so strong-willed, wasn't she? She lingered, not even realizing that she'd become a ghost. But time marches on, Elliot, and I rather think that Laura is running out of patience. She's taken three of us, and now she'll be wanting the rest. You, me and Sophie. I don't think we can do anything to stop her.”
“We have to get out of here,” Sophie groans, clearly in pain. “Please...”
“Then again,” Jonathan adds, “I was thinking that maybe if I help Laura, she might decide to let me go. There's always a deal to be struck, isn't there? Even if the most unusual circumstances.”
“Come on!” I mutter, still supporting Sophie's weight as I lead her toward the hallway. There's still a figure watching us from the shadows, and she looks exactly like Laura, but I keep telling myself that there's no way she can actually be here. She's not -
Suddenly Jonathan grabs me from behind, wrapping an arm around my neck and forcing me to the ground. As I fall, I let go of Sophie and she tumbles down next to me, gasping as she hits the side of the coffee table.
I immediately try to get up, but Jonathan kicks the back of my neck hard, sending me crumpling down again.
“We did a very bad thing all those years ago,” he says, keeping his boot pressed against my neck. “Well, some of us were worse that others, but we all let you drag us into the mess. No matter what she did to us, no matter what she was like as a person, we have no excuses. We ignored the phone call when she was begging for help, and we let her body stay down there in the cold and the dark. What does that make us? What kind of cruel, heartless bastards did we become?”
He moves his boot away and steps back.
Turning, I look up and see him framed against the huge window, with the lights of the dark city behind him.
“I don't blame her for hating us,” he continues, staring at me for a moment before looking toward the dark figure on the far side of the apartment. “Do you hear that, Laura? I don't blame you for what you're doing! I'm going to help you, as a sign of my guilt. I can only hope that in this way, I can prove to you that I am truly repentant. And then, maybe, you'll be able to find it in your heart to see that I've changed.” He pauses. “And here's Elliot. He's the one you really hate, isn't he? He must be.”
“He's crazy!” Sophie gasps, still shuddering next to me as she rolls onto her side. “Elliot, please, we have to get out of here...”
“I'll even do the job for you!” Jonathan continues, reaching into the drawer of a nearby desk and pulling out the antique pistol that once belonged to his grandfather. He checks it for a moment, before aiming straight at me. “Do you see, Laura?” he shouts, as tears start running down his face. “This is how sorry I am, and this is how much I mean it! Don't you see that now? Out of the six of us, I'm the only one who's truly sorry for what happened! So maybe you can find it in your heart to spare me, once I've done this for you! I'll kill the one you hate the most!”
He hesitates, as if he's waiting for her to say something, and then he closes one eyes as he adjusts his aim slightly.
“I'm sorry, Elliot,” he adds. “This is just what has to happen to bad people.”
With that, he cocks the pistol.
Suddenly there's a loud scream from the far side of the apartment, filling the air. I turn, just in time to see the ghost of Laura Mears rushing past. Jonathan cries out and the pistol fires, missing me by inches and instead shattering the coffee table. At the same time, I turn back to look at him, and I watch as he's sent slamming against the window. The glass explodes and his body falls through, and he cries out as he falls from view.
With cold night air now blowing through the broken window, I stare at the spot where Jonathan was standing. A moment later, there's the sound of a scream from far, far below the apartment.
Stumbling to my feet, I stagger forward until I
'm at the broken glass and then I peer out. I can see the brightly-lit street several hundred meters below, and a crowd is starting to gather around a faint smudge that looks to have been smeared across the pavement. There's no way anyone could have survived that fall.
I don't think Laura forgave him.
“Jonathan!” Sophie gasps behind me. “Please...”
Turning to her, I realize that I still have to get her out of here. I hurry over and carefully help her up, and then I support her weight as we make our way toward the apartment's front door. I look around, terrified in case I spot Laura watching us again, but finally we reach the door and pull it open. We still have to get all the way along the corridor before we can reach the elevator, and Sophie's too badly hurt to move at much more than a snail's pace, but eventually we get to the door at the far end and I hit the button to call the elevator.
“It's okay,” I tell her. “We're getting out of here, I swear!”
It seems to take forever for the chamber to get up here, and for the door to open. Once I've got Sophie inside, I jab furiously at the button for the ground floor, but the door still won't shut. This goddamn elevator always takes its time, and I keep jabbing at the button, before finally I glance back along the corridor.
The ghost of Laura Mears is standing in the apartment's hallway, and she has her eyes fixed on me. A moment later, she steps out of the apartment and starts walking calmly along the corridor, getting closer and closer. Staring at her, I tell myself that she can't be real, that there has to be some kind of explanation. At the same time, a sense of pure panic is rising through my body as her cold, dead eyes stare at me.
She remembers.
She knows what I did.
And then, just as she's about to reach us, the elevator's door finally slides shut. I ease Sophie to the ground and hold her tight as the chamber starts making its way down toward the ground floor. This time, however, she's not the only one who's trembling.
***
