Eximere (The River Book 4)

by Michael Richan

  You weren’t supposed to do that, she thought, her voice trembling. The door is hidden. You can’t possibly have found it. What you’re saying isn’t true. You’re a dirty, disloyal liar. She looked down at Steven, her eyes flaring.

  Steven took a step back, felt his heart skip a beat. Her gaze was chilling. Her vision seemed to magnify any space inside him, making him feel as though he was floating in a huge expanse, stranded, with no chance of rescue. Wave after wave of desperation washed over him, each one pounding him down. He wanted the feeling to be gone, but it didn’t stop. Within moments he wished he could die, just to stop the horrible emptiness he was feeling. He took another step back.

  Steven, what’s wrong? he heard Eliza think.

  The dark woman shifted her gaze from Steven and looked at Eliza. Steven instantly felt better.

  Avoid her eyes, Steven thought to Eliza.

  He says you’ve found the door, the dark woman thought. Have you? Don’t lie to me, I can always tell disloyalty!

  Eliza glanced down at the dark woman’s dress, watching it shift and move as she hovered on the stairs. Yes, Eliza thought, he’s right. We’ve found it, and we’re going to destroy your son’s device.

  Roy rounded the corner from the hallway with the others, just in time to see Steven and Eliza collapse on the stairs. He glanced up and saw the figure of the dark woman, drifting towards the top of the staircase. Within a second, she had turned and was out of sight. Steven had fallen to the base of the stairs, and was lying crumpled on the floor next to Eliza.

  ◊

  Steven opened his eyes, seeing Roy’s face. A look of relief washed over Roy’s features, and Steven realized whatever had happened, it had scared Roy badly. He felt incredibly cold, and his body began to shiver.

  “How do you feel?” Roy asked. As Steven got his bearings, he saw the others behind Roy, staring down at him.

  “Eliza?” Steven asked.

  “She’s here,” Roy said. “She’s still out.”

  “I’m cold,” Steven said.

  “Do you think you can stand?” Roy asked.

  Steven rolled to his side, pressing down on the marble floor with his hands. The marble is ice cold, he thought. Is that why I’m shivering?

  He pushed himself up, Roy helping. “Let’s get you into bed,” Roy said. “You can warm up and rest. Do you think you can make it up the stairs?”

  Steven took a step, feeling frozen but functional. “Yes,” he said, “if you help me, I can make it.”

  Steven turned and saw Eliza on the floor. Her whole body was shaking. It looked like a seizure, but Steven knew it was severe shivering. Her eyes opened, and Jonathan was talking to her. “She’s going to be alright,” Roy said. “Let’s get you upstairs.”

  Steven slowly marched up the stairs with Roy on one arm, guiding him. Soon he was in the bedroom, and Roy was helping him wrap up in the bed covers.

  “So fucking cold,” Steven said, feeling his teeth clatter against each other as his jaws involuntarily clanged together. Roy left the room and returned with more bed covers, wrapping Steven.

  “She zapped you, huh?” Roy said.

  “Is that what that was?” Steven asked.

  “You felt like you were in hell,” Roy said, “except hell was an empty place fifty degrees below zero, with nothing around you for miles?”

  “You’ve been there,” Steven said.

  “Yes, once,” Roy said. “Not many ghosts have that kind of power. You got a little taste of her misery. Happened to me once years ago. One of the reasons why I consider them so dangerous.”

  “Was your father around to explain what it was?” Steven asked.

  “No, he’d passed on at that point,” Roy said. “I was working with Dixon. A friend of his had discovered a ghost ship, called Dixon about it. Dixon roped me in. A megayacht floating in the ocean, a hundred miles off Moclips. Not a living person on board, but several ghosts. One nearly killed Dixon. I’m gonna run a hot bath for you, that’ll do the trick. You all right if I step out and check on Eliza?”

  “Yes, go,” Steven said, pulling the sheets and bed spreads more tightly around himself. He felt the coldness start to leave, but as he heard the water begin running in the bathroom he knew the hot bath was what he really wanted. He fought to eliminate the memory of the experience from his mind. Just thinking about it made him colder. He wondered about the ghost ship Roy had mentioned. I’ll have to ask him to relate the whole story sometime, he thought. Then it occurred to Steven, that’s why he told me the story – to distract me. The bath may warm my body, but the chill in my mind needs to go away, too. It’s just as bad as the physical, maybe worse.

  Steven pushed the bedcovers away and stumbled to the bathroom. The water was slowly rising, and he stripped down and got into the oversize tub, letting the heat sink into him. Whenever he thought back to the attack from the dark woman, his whole body shivered in the warm water. Don’t think about it, he reminded himself. He imagined Roy and Dixon prowling around the hallways and decks of a large boat, searching for clues. Where did the crew and passengers go? Moclips – that’s near Native American territory. Many whaling and fishing grounds were sacred – maybe the boat crossed into some areas it shouldn’t have. He let his thoughts drift as he felt warmth return to his body, and soon he was asleep in the tub.

  Chapter Seven

  Steven popped his head inside the open door at the back of Brenda’s Batch House and shouted, “anyone home?” He heard some rustling inside and a faint voice said “come on in!”

  Roy, Eliza, and Steven had left the house and gone back into town. The others chose to stay at the house. They hadn’t told the others about their real intentions, just that they wanted to get out of the house and maybe chat with the locals at the restaurant again. Steven told Roy and Eliza that since he had lied to Roger about competing with his dad to get information, it might be best if he followed up with Roger on his own. Roy and Eliza agreed, and were having coffee at the restaurant, awaiting his return.

  Roger emerged from the back of the shop and smiled at Steven. “Did you make it to the passageway?”

  “We did,” Steven said, smiling back at Roger and shaking his outstretched hand. “We even made it to the door.”

  “What’s inside?” Roger asked, his eyebrows raising.

  “Don’t know,” Steven said. “It was welded shut. Couldn’t go through it.”

  “Damn!” Roger said. “I tell ya, that door is a mystery.”

  “I guess so,” Steven said. “But it’ll make a great chapter in the book, if we write it. I was wondering if you happened to know of any other aspects of the house that you think would be interesting reading. You said you had a ton of stories about the place.”

  “Oh, well – it’s full of strange things,” Roger said. “Did I tell you about the peepholes?”

  “We saw them, going through the passageway,” Steven said.

  “Oh, of course you did,” Roger said. “Did you see Mrs. Unser?”

  “We did notice something strange on the staircase, right around dawn,” Steven said.

  Roger smiled. “See, I told you! She’s as predictable as Old Faithful. If they had marketed the house tours so people could see her walk those stairs, this town would be rolling in dough.”

  “I can imagine,” Steven said. “What other stories about the place do you think I should include in the book?”

  “Well, let’s see, there’s the grounds,” Roger said. “They would never let staff be on the grounds after dark. Tours were always from 10am to 4pm, which seemed strange to me. Some of my co-workers were convinced there were wolves on the property. There’s a grandfather clock in the library that always stops at 4:37 every day. They’ve had people in to fix it, but it does no good. I heard that 4:37 was the time that Mrs. Unser died in the house.”

  “That’s interesting,” Steven said. “I think I should check that out.” He was egging Roger along, not wanting him to stop. “Any more passageways? Empty rooms
?”

  “You know,” Roger said, “I gave a local historian a tour there once, he seemed to think the place was involved with liquor running during prohibition. I didn’t give it much thought when he said it, but then the idea of the peepholes made me think of speakeasys, and I wondered if maybe the rooms that were sealed shut were used for that purpose.”

  “Could be,” Steven said.

  “The historian said there was a cave or tunnel nearby that had a reputation during prohibition. He thought it was connected to the house somehow. I certainly wasn’t going to go prowling through the woods to search for it. But I thought it was interesting, the idea that they might have run booze through the place back in the day. Mr. Unser did have a reputation for parties. And it fit in with the peepholes, like I said.”

  “It does fit,” Steven agreed. “And it is interesting.”

  “In fact,” Roger said, “there’s a bookcase in the library that slides back into a wall to reveal a small room that looks like it was meant to hold bottles of wine. We always showed that during the tours.”

  Even though he was repeating himself sometimes, Steven listened patiently while Roger continued to describe oddities of the house. Bathrooms with faucets that turned on by themselves, hallways that always contained a breeze, soft moanings you could hear through doors. None of it intrigued him as much as the idea of the prohibition tunnel.

  “There’s a painting in the library,” Roger said, “its eyes follow you as you walk past it. Just like the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland.”

  “You’d think the tours would have been popular,” Steven said.

  “People like it when they know it’s fake,” Roger said. “In that house, it was too real. Just creeped them out, made them not want to come.”

  They chatted a while longer before Steven thanked him and Roger offered to help again, if needed.

  “By the way,” Steven asked, “have you seen Kent Percival recently?”

  “No, why?” Roger asked. Steven looked at him trying to decipher any dishonesty. He decided Roger wasn’t lying.

  “Oh, I’m just trying to connect with him, that’s all,” Steven said. “I’ll give him a call later. Thanks again for your help.”

  Steven left the back of the shop and walked the couple of blocks to the restaurant, where Roy and Eliza were inside. There was no one else in the restaurant. He joined them at the counter.

  “Welcome back!” said Bess. “Your friends here are having coffee. You?”

  “Please,” Steven answered. She poured him a cup and disappeared once again into the kitchen.

  “Any luck?” Eliza asked.

  “There might be a tunnel,” Steven said. “Prohibition era, used for liquor running. An historian he met told him about it. He never saw it himself.”

  “Anything else?” Roy asked.

  “There’s a bookcase in the library that’s hiding a small room,” Steven said. “They used to show it off during the tours.”

  Steven heard the bell ring on the door as Howard and Jerry entered. They slowly walked over to the counter and sat on their two favorite stools.

  “Well, if it isn’t the Seattilites!” Howard said. “Although fewer in number.”

  “Hope you didn’t go up to that house,” Jerry said.

  “We did,” Steven said, turning to address the two gentlemen. “Spent the night.”

  Jerry crossed himself and muttered something under his breath.

  “Oh, don’t mind him,” Howard said, walking around the counter to retrieve his own coffee. “Religion clouds his mind.”

  “They should tear that place down,” Jerry said. “Very evil place, you know.”

  “Now why would they tear down the town jewel?” Howard asked Jerry. “Ain’t never gonna happen. It’s on the historical register.”

  Bess came out of the kitchen. “You two are late today!” she said to Howard and Jerry.

  “Had to drop something off at the Grange first thing,” Howard said. “It won’t happen again.”

  Bess disappeared back into the kitchen.

  Steven decided to try his luck. “I heard the Unser house used to be involved in liquor running, during prohibition.”

  “Sure was,” Howard said. “This town was the wettest around. People came here from Olympia and Tacoma to get booze. Those years were the best this town ever saw.”

  “I talked to an historian who said there was a tunnel under the house that they used to run the booze,” Steven said.

  “Probably,” Howard said. “They had to get it in and out somehow. The highway used to go straight up to Canada, and the feds used to monitor it closely. The old Benson hotel on main street was built to give the boys a place to stay when they worked the road.”

  “It’s vacant now,” Jerry said. “Tried to make it a bank for a while, but there’s not enough going on in this town to support a bank.”

  “So you think there might be a tunnel into the house?” Steven said. “Any idea where it might be?”

  “There was a network of small logging roads back in the day,” Howard said, “used to run everywhere in the forest. Weren’t on any map, people just knew where they were. County Road 15 used to run behind the house, I expect that’s how they got in and out.”

  Steven turned to look at Eliza and Roy. Roy smiled – he obviously thought it was a good lead.

  “If you know what’s good for you,” Jerry said, sipping his coffee, “you’ll leave that old place alone. It’s as evil as the day is long.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” Howard said.

  “Well, thank you gentlemen,” Steven said, rising from the counter and placing money next to his emptied cup. “Hope to see you around.”

  Steven, Roy, and Eliza left the restaurant and walked to their car. Once inside, Steven pulled out his cell phone.

  “Please, let there be topographical maps online,” he said, performing a search. Within a few moments he let loose a victorious “yes!” and handed the phone to Roy. Roy took one look at it and handed it to Eliza.

  “So, what do you think?” Steven asked him.

  “Didn’t look at it,” Roy said. “I don’t know how to work those things.”

  “Dad,” Steven said, “it’s a topographical map of the area. You can see the area behind the house where a tunnel might be.”

  “He’s right,” Eliza said, swiping the phone as she talked. “It shows lot lines, too. There’s not more than half a mile between that road and the back of the property.”

  “It’s there,” Steven said. “That’s our way in.”

  “Let’s drive down that road,” Roy said, “and see what we can find.”

  ◊

  They parked their car a hundred feet down a small path that left County Road 15 at about the right spot behind the Unser property.

  “Looks like this used to be a road,” Roy said, swinging his feet to move leaves and branches from old ruts on the ground, “but it’s all grown over.”

  “No need to run booze anymore,” Steven said.

  “Shall we try it, as far as we can?” Eliza said, looking into the forest where the road used to go. “It looks pretty thin as far as I can see – we might make it through.”

  “Well,” Steven said, “the car is parked far enough off the road that people won’t see or notice it. And we’ve got plenty of daylight left. As long as we stick to the road and not veer into forest, I’m OK with it.”

  “Let’s go,” Roy said, heading down the road.

  The three of them maneuvered around fallen trees and branches as they progressed down the old road. “A vehicle hasn’t been down this road in fifty years at least,” Roy said. Steven looked into the forest on either side of them as they progressed. You could only see ten feet into it before it became so dense you couldn’t see anything further. He began to feel his claustrophobia kick up, but he kept it in check by focusing on the path ahead and keeping up with Roy, who was bulldozing through the brush.

  After a half hour on the path, Steven
was about to ask them to stop for a breather, when they abruptly came to a short clearing, not more than ten feet wide. In front of them was the side of a mountain that rose at least fifty feet into the air, blocking the sunlight. And straight ahead of them, on the path, was a round entrance into the side of the mountain. At first Steven thought it was a cave, but after looking more closely, he saw that the opening was man-made. It was the prohibition tunnel.

  Eliza turned to look at him, and a wide smile broke out on her face. “We found it!” she said.

  Roy quickly walked up to the tunnel entrance, examining the walls. He looked down. “Look,” he said. “You can still see the ruts where the trucks went.”

  “They drove right into the tunnel?” Eliza asked.

  “Yes,” Roy answered, “although who knows how far. You got the flashlight, Steven?”

  “Right here,” Steven answered, producing it and turning it on. The three of them started into the tunnel.

  After a few steps the light became useful. “Up ahead,” Roy said. “Fencing.”

  They walked up to a stretch of chain link fence that had been constructed from one side of the tunnel to the other, at a place where the shape of the tunnel was almost rectangular.

  “This is good news,” Roy said. “It means there’ll be no animals inside to worry about.”

  “How are we going to get through?” Eliza asked. “Did anyone bring wire cutters?”

  “No,” Roy said, “but we won’t need them. Look, the fence is stretched to these tensions bars. We only need to undo the nuts and bolts holding the tension band.”

  “Did anyone bring a…” Eliza said, but before she could finish, Roy produced the tool from his back pocket.

  “Wrench, madame?” Roy said.

  Eliza laughed. “Roy, you never fail to amaze me. Or make me laugh.”

  Steven held the flashlight on the tension bar so Roy could work the wrench on the bolts holding the tension bands in place. It took several minutes. Steven turned to look behind him. The entrance to the tunnel was about twenty feet back, enough that the light from outside wasn’t enough to illuminate the fence very well. He noticed light rain falling in the light at the opening.