by Connie Myres
Mary wasn’t sure what to think. Help? What could this fragile pair help with? “Madisyn, the young lady standing over by that handsome young man, has been helping me. She is in my employ. But you are both welcome here nonetheless and can certainly stay the night. The approaching storm sounds like it’s going to be a bad one.”
Mr. Simmons sat on the bench next to the door. “We rented a boat from one of the docks to get out here. We felt you might need our services.”
“I can certainly employ you again, but it is not necessary for you to work for me. If you want to return to the cottage next door, you are certainly welcome.”
Rain began to pelt the windows. Mrs. Simmons pulled her shawl tight around her shoulders to cover her arms. “It is cold in here.”
“I apologize, there is an awful draft coming from the—passage.”
Mr. Simmons shot up from the bench. “Passage?”
“Yes,” Mary said, motioning them to follow her to the library. “We have found a passage and a locked room. Do you know anything about it?”
Mr. Simmons shuffled quickly to the library door and looked inside. “You only just moved in and you have already found what should be closed forever.”
“But Mary has been threatened,” Madisyn said. “There something evil in this house and we are trying to stop it, to send it away.”
“You might be able to send Zachariah De Moen away, his bark is worse than his bite, but you will not and cannot send Satan’s demon anyplace.”
“Have you been down there?” Mary asked, surprised the Simmons even knew about the spirits.
Mrs. Simmons was now standing next to her husband. “We have not been down there. We have only heard Horace speak of it. A long time ago, one of your ancestors, Mary, built an altar to Satan, that room that you are attempting to enter. They wanted to use the demon that was summoned to break the McMaster curse. Your ancestor's goal was to use the demon to defeat Zachariah De Moen so that the McMaster lineage would not end and instead flourish.”
“I don’t think it worked,” Moose said.
Mrs. Simmons looked at Mary, then continued, “You are not a young woman, Mary McMaster, and if you are to bear children, time is not on your side. Demons cannot be trusted and will tell you anything to trick you to do their bidding. That’s how lucifer’s altar was built long ago. As you can see the demon might have power over Zachariah De Moen, but he also did not keep his part of the deal. So the altar room was locked and the McMaster family, your family, Mary, gave up and accepted their lot in life.”
“Sounds to me like even more reason to get in that room and clear it of the evil that rests there,” Carl said.
“Who are you?” Mrs. Simmons asked, leaning against the doorframe.
“I’m Carl, an investigator with the Anisteem Ghost Hunters.”
“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, young man.”
“At this point,” Mary said, “we’re not getting into the room without a key. Do you know where it’s at?”
“Or an ax,” Moose said.
“No, we do not know where the key is,” Mrs. Simmons said.
The storm was beating the house causing the lights to flicker. Mary was exhausted. She wanted to go back to her little house in town. Dealing with Pickles digging in Pauline’s flowers wasn’t such a big deal after all, compared to what she was going through right now. “I say we all find a room and sleep the rest of the night, what night there is left. You don’t need my permission to sleep anywhere, so sleep where you want, just get some rest because tomorrow, I mean by later today, by midnight, we’re all supposed to be dead.”
Chapter 17
Everyone scattered, looking for a place to sleep. Mary held out a hand to Nick. “This might not be proper, but do you mind sleeping in my room? I’m afraid and would feel much safer if you were in there with me.”
Nick looked surprised. “I don’t have a problem with that.” He groaned as he stood with his cane. “Lead the way, my lady.”
Mary watched as Eddie followed Madisyn into her room. That was fine, she wanted Madisyn protected and not left alone with all that was going on. The ghost hunters went up to the third floor, Moose took the master bedroom, and the Simmons went to the servants’ quarters.
Mary closed her bedroom door as soon as Pickles got inside. She looked at Nick who was unsure of where to go. Mary closed the drapes to block the bright flashes of lightning.
“I’ll sleep in the chair,” Nick said, sitting down. He heaved a sigh. “Just give me a blanket and a pillow and I’ll be fine.”
“You’re recovering from hip surgery; you can’t sleep in a chair like that.”
“Sure I can. I’ve come along quite a way in my rehab and I’ll be fine.”
Mary smiled as she picked up her pajamas that were on the floor next to her dresser, along with all the items that had been knocked off the top of it. “I’ll be right back.”
Mary walked out of the bedroom to the end of the hallway. She said goodnight to Moose as she passed the master bedroom and walked into the bathroom. She freshened up and changed into her silky polyester nightgown. When she got back into the bedroom Nick was climbing into bed with only his boxers and a tee shirt.
“I was afraid I’d pop my hip out of its socket if I stayed in that chair,” Nick said, placing a pillow between his legs, keeping his hips in alignment. “I apologize for the intrusion.”
Mary climbed into bed next to him. “Don’t you worry, Nick, I know you’re a man of honor.”
“I’ll warn you, I might snore.”
“All this thunder will drown out your snoring. Not to worry.”
Nick looked at Mary and smiled. “Thank you for your kindness, Mary.”
Mary smiled back. This was the closest she’d been to a man in years, decades if the truth be told. Why was it taking a demon and a death threat for her to find happiness?
MORNING CAME WAY TOO soon. Mary was not rested, and Nick was indeed snoring. The moment she sat up on the edge of the bed he woke up.
“Did I wake you?” Nick reached for his glasses. “What time is it?”
“Heavens no. I went right to sleep and just now awoke,” Mary lied. She could get used to snoring if she had to, especially if the man expelling such sounds was Nick.
“Ten o’clock?” Nick said, moaning as he sat up. “It seems so dark.”
“Must be the drapes,” Mary said, walking to a window. She pulled open the heavy curtains. Outside it was dark and gloomy. Not dark like nighttime, but dark as though Shadow Island was covered by a dark cloud.
“The storm must not be over,” Nick said. “Is it raining?”
“Doesn’t look like it, but it looks like there could be a downpour at any time.”
“This must be how Shadow Island got its name.”
“I smell bacon,” Mary said, gathering her daytime clothes. “The Simmons must be cooking breakfast.”
“Time to get up then,” Nick said, standing.
Mary looked away. “I’m getting dressed, I’ll see you downstairs.”
When Mary finished in the bathroom, she walked downstairs where everyone was drinking coffee and eating the meager breakfast that the Simmons had prepared.
“You need to keep the Simmons around,” Moose said, wolfing down a plate of eggs. “They’re great cooks.”
Mary walked up to Mrs. Simmons who was wiping the counter. “Is it normal for Shadow Island to be so dark? Does it have something to do with its location?”
Mrs. Simmons tightened her grip on the dishrag. “No, this is not normal. We must all leave the island immediately.”
Mary looked out the kitchen window. The wind had picked up, causing branches from a nearby tree to scrape against the house. She looked at the water now covered with whitecaps. Mary didn’t want to leave, she now owned a mansion that had been in her family for years. But what could she do; other than rid the house of the evil inside it. “Sounds like good advice. I’ll let the others know.”
Mrs. Simmons bowed her head. “I am sorry this is happening to you, Mary. I really am.”
“I know.”
Mrs. Simmons turned away. Mary wasn’t sure whether to hug her or simply walk out of the kitchen and leave the poor woman alone. She opted to walk into the entry hall and summon everyone around her.
“Can I have everyone’s attention,” Mary called.
“What’s going on?” Madisyn asked from the dining room.
“We all must leave the island immediately,” Mary said, trying to say it with authority so that no one would protest.
“I thought we were going to rid the mansion of the demon,” Carl said. “Once it’s gone, you should be fine to stay here.”
“What if we can’t get rid of it?” Mary said. “We’ll be here waiting for it to strike us all down.”
Moose sat his fork on the plate with a clank and walked to the dining room window. “If we’re going to leave, we have to do it now because it looks like the storm is kicking up and it’s going to be dangerous to cross to the mainland.”
Mary looked around and saw everyone except Nick. Maybe he’s having difficulty putting on his trousers, she thought. So Mary walked up the staircase to her room and was surprised to see Nick in bed, shivering under the blankets. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. I was fine a minute ago, then suddenly I got sick.”
“Are you well enough to ride in a boat to the mainland?”
Before Nick could answer, his eyes rolled back in their sockets and a voice of the demon belted from Nick’s frothing mouth. “The Grim Reaper is coming after you, Mary McMaster.”
Mary screamed. She stood there, next to the bed, afraid to move. Suddenly Mr. and Mrs. Simmons rushed into the room—albeit feebly—before Mary had a chance to comprehend what had just occurred.
“What happened?” Mr. Simmons asked.
Mary pointed at Nick who was now lying still, his mouth open, and the white of his eyes were staring blankly at Mary.
Mrs. Simmons hurried to Nick’s side and began chanting over him in a language Mary had never heard. Then the scurrying sound of the critter Mary had been hearing and Moose was trying to catch was heading their way. But she gave little care to the approaching rodent.
“Is he going to be all right?” Mary said, her voice cracked.
Mrs. Simmons did not answer, instead—as everyone gathered around the bedroom entrance, watching the spectacle—she moved her hands over Nick’s body like a voodoo priestess.
Mary looked at the door when people began to gasp and cuss, she knew the rat was probably under their feet. But what she saw was not a rat, a groundhog, or even a mouse, it was that ugly twig doll that she was going to burn. It maneuvered around feet and pattered into the bedroom. Mr. Simmons snatched it up and gave it to his wife who pressed the doll—a voodoo doll—against Nick’s chest.
Whispers of the first death to befall them were heard behind Mary. Not Nick, please not Nick. Not anyone. Take me, Mary said in her mind as she closed her eyes.
Then she heard coughing and gagging. When Mary opened her eyes, Nick was holding his throat and his eyes, the eyes Mary was afraid to look at, had color, no longer the ghoulish look of someone possessed.
Mrs. Simmons backed away as Mary ran to Nick’s side. “Nick, Nick, are you okay?”
Nick clutched his throat as he pulled in deep phlegmy breaths. “I think so. What happened?”
Mary looked up at Mrs. Simmons who was now holding the doll against her own chest, giving thanks and praise to someone, some unknown deity.
“He was possessed,” Mr. Simmons said, guiding his wife out of the room.
“He looked dead,” Madisyn said.
“He was,” Mrs. Simmons said as she passed through the crowd that was now entering the room. “We must leave or we all will be dead.”
“I’ll check the boats,” Moose said, stamping down the steps.
“I’ll help,” Eddie said, following the big guy.
“I was dead?” Nick said, shaking his head.
“Possessed and dead,” Donny said, recording the event.
“Thanks, for the correction,” Nick said.
Lightning flashed, and thunder pealed as the wind blew against the mansion with such force that the shutters violently rattled, threatening to be ripped from their hinges.
“Oh, Nick,” Mary said, gently stroking his cheek. “I thought I’d lost you.”
Nick pulled Mary close and kissed her forehead. “I love you, Mary.”
Nick just proclaimed love for her? Mary couldn’t believe it. Or maybe she could. Now all they had to do was get out of there alive so that love could grow.
“I love you, too, Nick,” Mary whispered. But instead of kissing a cheek or a forehead, she placed her lips softly on his, his welcoming lips.
“Let’s go,” Eddie shouted from the front door. “Hurry, before the weather gets worse than it is.”
Mary helped Nick dress as everyone ran downstairs. She heard the paranormal investigators say they’ll come back for their equipment and Eddie call for Madisyn to hurry it up.
“I think we’re going to be the last ones out of the house,” Nick said, grabbing his cane.
Mary and Nick sprinted down the stairway so fast they almost tumbled onto each other, but somehow, they kept their balance as Pickles rushed past them and through the open front door.
There was no time for raincoats and hats as Moose waved them to go faster. The rain was cold, and they were soaked by the time they reached the boats.
“Quick, get on the boat,” Moose shouted as he unhooked the lines from the pilings.
Mary picked up Pickles then she and Nick rushed inside the cabin with Sharon and Donny. Daisy Dancer was rocking and bouncing so much that water was rushing over the sides and into the boat.
As Moose went to the helm and pulled away from the dock, Mary looked out the porthole and saw Eddie driving a speedboat with Madisyn and Carl onboard. The Simmons were in an even smaller boat and looked as though they were having problems.
All three boats pulled away from the dock and into the rough Great Lake water between the island and the mainland. Mary looked back toward the island. The mansion looked spooky as lightning cast eerie shadows against the structure.
“Can everyone swim?” Mary asked as she gripped the bench she was seated on.
“I can’t,” Nick said, putting on a life vest.
Donny found three more lifejackets and handed them out. “I can swim but those waves out there are a few feet tall.”
“I’ve heard of waves getting twenty-two feet tall on Lake Michigan. I sure hope we don’t see that,” Sharon said, quickly fastening her jacket’s belt.
“At least we’re in the biggest boat and are more likely to stay afloat,” Donny said, as Sharon bumped into him from the buffeting craft.
Mary looked back out the porthole. It was dark and difficult to see. “I don’t see the Simmons boat.”
Donny went from porthole to porthole. “I see Eddie’s boat, it’s holding its own. But—” he wiped the steamed-up window. “Oh, no. Moose, the Simmons boat has capsized.”
Moose shouted down to them from the helm. The storm was deafening from the crashing waves. “What?”
“The Simmons boat went under.”
Moose cursed a bit and steered the sputtering Daisy Dancer to the Simmons boat. He shined a spotlight on the water as he looked for the elderly couple. “Donny, toss out some life rings.”
Donny tossed a couple life rings that were attached to the boat by a rope toward where he thought the Simmons would be.
“Do you see them?” Moose shouted.
“No,” Donny shouted back. “I’m jumping in.”
“Don’t do it. It’s too dangerous,” Moose said. “They’re probably gone, anyway.”
Donny tied a rope around his waist, grabbed a waterproof flashlight from the cabin wall, and jumped into the water. He swam to the boat and disappeared under the waves.
&nbs
p; Mary heard Moose talking on the radio telling Eddie to keep going to the mainland. “Damn it, Eddie, don’t turn around.”
Sharon clung to Daisy Dancer, waiting for Donny to surface. “Donny!”
Moose shined the light along the Simmons boat and the surrounding water. “Tug on Donny’s rope.”
Sharon tugged and pulled until Donny’s head popped out of the water. She pulled him in as he swam against a current that wanted to pull him out to the depths of the lake. He grabbed the side of the boat as Sharon and Moose pulled him onboard.
“They’re dead,” Donny said. “They’re drowned underneath the boat.”
A large wave broke over the side of Daisy Dancer, filling the floor with several inches of water.
“We have to go back to the island,” Moose shouted to Eddie who had pulled up next to him. “The storm is too strong, and the waves are too high.”
They fought the waves and the wind as they approached Shadow Island. They quickly tied the boats to the dock and ran back inside the mansion’s open door. Pickles shook and sprayed water over the floor, almost causing Nick to slip and fall.
“The power’s out,” Mary said, flipping the light switch on and off. “But there are lots of candles around here. Let’s go to the library, I know the fireplace is fit to use in there.”
Moose took waterlogged matches from his pocket. “Not lighting anything with these.”
“There’s a lighter in the top desk drawer,” Mary said as she ignited the libraries gas fireplace. A warm glow filled the room. Eddie closed the bookcase to the passageway then went with Madisyn to gather some towels so that they could dry off.
“I really didn’t want to bring us back to Hell House,” Moose said, sliding a chair next to the fireplace. “But if we kept going, we would’ve ended up like the poor Simmons.”
Everyone was quiet. A few kind comments about the Simmons were made and sentiments expressed as Carl and Donny brought in chairs from the dining room.
“Now what?” Moose said, leaning toward the warmth of the flames.
“I’m going up to my room to change into some dry clothes,” Madisyn said, pulling on Eddie’s arm. “And you’re coming with me because I’m not going anyplace alone.”
