Evil Heights, Book IV: In the Pit

by Michael Swanson

  Ridley looked out from the doorway. “You know there's nowhere to run. We're going to have us a little party, and it's going to be such fun."

  Lee handed the flashlight back to Phoebe and sloshed across the room. He scooped up Patty, waking her, and with the other hand picked up the pistol from the table.

  Betty had appeared, standing behind him

  "I want the boy,” Betty said, her mouth a ghastly black. “Peep on me will you? And you though just because I was half dead I wasn't listening?"

  "Let's get out of here!” Lee called out. “We've got to get up the stairs! Now!"

  Flapjack, who'd awakened at the first rush of water, was already at the top of the stairs with Phoebe when Lee and Patty arrived.

  Phoebe was struggling to hold the flashlight and twist the knob. She was almost hysterical. “It's locked!"

  Lee tried twisting.

  He looked back. Ridley was at the foot of the stairs, the bat once again in his hands. All around the force of the presence was stifling. It called out, painting a picture of utter despair. Whispering, in Lee's ear to give up, it oozed lies. The malevolence reached out, tugging at the basest fears, attempting to wrench away any hope a soul could possess and crush it into cowering submission.

  Lee brought the pistol around and fired. The force of the bullet's impact knocked Ridley back, and he took Betty down with him.

  "Stand back!” Lee hollered out over the gale pounding on the other side of the door.

  He put the pistol to where he figured the lock's mechanism was and pulled the trigger. Once again, there was a tremendous deafening explosion, the smell of nitrate sharper than that of impending death.

  Lee pulled.

  The door didn't open.

  Ridley was back on his feet and coming up the stairs. He had another hole in the center of his chest to go along with the one Phoebe had put there earlier. But neither one seemed to be bothering him all that much right now.

  The dreadful accent sounded out from below. “You've got to do better than that boy."

  Lee moved the pistol over slightly. The flash of the shot dazzled his eyes. He pulled on the door, but it still wouldn't open. Then in desperation he tried pushing, and immediately a torrent of water began pouring in out of the sides as well as from under the bottom. Where it had only been a trickle seeping through the bottom before, now a brown river rushed through and down the stairs.

  Lee had wedged himself in and Phoebe was holding on to the handrail and also to Patty lest they be swept away and down the stairs. As the pressure of the water gave way Lee was able to force the door open wider and wider, until at last, Patty and Phoebe were able to squeeze through. Apparently the back wall of the little house had been framed in concrete, and was all that remained. The front of the little house was torn away, and the roof was gone, too. The wind was screaming through the gap of the door, howling out and swirling around, making the passage seem alive as the water poured down.

  Lee looked behind him.

  Ridley had come up the steps and was behind him, about to swing.

  Lee fired his last shot, point blank right at Ridley's nose.

  Once more, Ridley went down taking Betty with him. They were both carried down the stairs by the flood and disappeared into the utter blackness below.

  In the weak beam of the flashlight Lee could see the shelter was rapidly filling up. Debris was swirling up carried by the surging dark water.

  Frantically Phoebe yelled back, “Lee, come on!"

  "Hang on!” He dropped the empty pistol. “Give me the flashlight."

  Phoebe handed it to him, her hair whipping about wildly.

  Lee splashed down the stairs, dreadfully afraid any moment a hand would come up out of the water and seize him.

  The water was already only a couple of feet from the ceiling. A whirlpool had been created from the inflow of both currents front and back, and everything that would float was spinning about wildly.

  Lee saw Ridley and Betty, clinging to the far doorway at the same time they saw him. His last shot had been a good one. It had gone through Ridley's face and Betty now also sported a hole above one eye, making the two of them quite the striking couple.

  Lee saw what he was after, the large gray package, labeled Navy.

  He missed it on the first pass, as just when he thought he could grab it a chair cushion bobbed up, pushing it away.

  Ridley and Betty's eyes were fierce. He could feel how much they hated him. It was the same selfish and childish belligerence he'd felt behind him on the road. It jeered at him, telling him to give up, to give in, that there was no hope at all. It was so heavy, so strong it laughingly dared him to resist. “Just a little closer,” it sung out. “You're already mine, you can feel it. Don't make me use all my strength,” it warned. “You won't like it. Come along easy. Easy now. It will be better this way. Relax, you'll see."

  Lee saw a vision of a snapping turtle, its dark jaws in the water. He was coming closer. There was nothing he could do.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN: ESCAPE

  "Lee!” Phoebe shrieked from up on the stairs. “Lee!"

  He snapped out of it. The package was suddenly right there. Hanging on to the doorframe he lunged out and grabbed it, dropping the flashlight.

  All that was left was the utter darkness, and the glow from the eyes reflecting off the rising water at the back of the room.

  Lee rushed up, squeezing through the door.

  The wind was intense, and rain was driving through the air stinging every exposed inch of skin. Thankfully, it wasn't pitch black. Somewhere, far away, the sun was rising, but here the morning was only a ruddy, bloody gray.

  They were knee-deep standing in what was left of the little house. All that remained was the concrete and steel section of back wall supported by the passage down to the bomb shelter. To Lee's left, he could see the ragged, dark shadows of what little brick work remained of the main house. The trellis and all the new roses were gone.

  Phoebe called out, “What are we going to do?"

  Lee was tearing at the package frantically.

  Around them, the water was rising. They were standing at the highest point this side of the highway bridge, and the water was now thigh deep. Poor little Patty, she was chest deep and holding on to Lee with one hand while clutching onto Flapjack and tucking her face into his wind-ruffled feathers.

  Lee had his back to the door. He knew that at any second it would burst open, and Ridley would emerge.

  He had the canvas wrapper off. A gray rubbery bundle unfolded.

  Phoebe was hanging onto his shoulders. “What is it?"

  Lee called back. “The raft!"

  He pulled a red ring attached to a metal canister, and the gray bundle came to life, hissing almost as loudly as the wind as it folded out into shape.

  There was an impact at the door behind Lee. The water pressure had to be such now that it would be almost impossible to open. But it was obvious that Ridley was trying to break it down from inside with the bat. Wedging a foot at the bottom of the door, it was all Lee could do to hold onto the raft and keep it from being torn away by the wind. “Phoebe, you and Patty get in!” he screamed.

  There was another tremendous impact, the wood behind his head splintering. Lee looked around for something to use as a paddle, but there was nothing. With the girls having clambered inside, he had no choice. He pulled himself in and pushed off with his feet against the door.

  The raft rolled around, caught by the wind and spun away from the little house wall.

  The wind had them, only their weight keeping them down. They skidded atop the water, threatening to be blown over at any second as water sloshed over the sides along with the rain pouring in. Thankfully, the raft rode heavier as it moved along through the graying darkness, bumping into Mr. Ballard's maimed trees, which seemed to reach out, attempting to snag it with their stumpy branches.

  They'd only made less than a hundred yards when they were pinned in the lower boughs of a tre
e which had suddenly loomed up in the dark. If Lee had a paddle he might have been able to steer clear, but they were helpless.

  The bottom of the raft was laden with at least five hundred pounds of water. The weight, which had saved them from being snatched away by the wind, was now threatening to tear them apart, as they were impaled on the branches of the dead cherry tree. Though both Lee and Phoebe tried to bounce them free, finally all they could do was huddle in the front and hope the raft didn't puncture.

  Little by little it became brighter. It was apparent too, that the wind was abating and the rain was falling off as well.

  Slowly, Lee could make out the faces of Phoebe and Patty in the front of the raft, then the next row of trees and the next.

  "The hurricane?” Phoebe asked. “Is it over?"

  "Oh, please let it be over,” Patty prayed. “Please, please, please."

  Lee saw it first, coming up from the south. There were blue sky and white clouds.

  Phoebe got to her knees and cheered. “We're saved! We're gonna be alright.” She looked at Lee. “We're going to be alright aren't we?"

  "That's the eye of the hurricane,” Lee replied. “We'll have maybe fifteen minutes or so of calm and then it's gonna get even worse."

  Phoebe's face fell. “Are you sure?"

  Lee nodded.

  It was actually bright now. They could see all around. Brown swirling water was everywhere, filled with debris. Pieces of houses, furniture, fences, clothes, paper, branches, leaves, and more than one dead cat or dog were floating by. Ironically, the dead cherry trees, having been stripped of most of their branches, remained, where the live trees whose full branches had resisted the wind, had been ripped apart and torn from the ground. There was nothing else standing that Lee could recognize. It was as though they were in the middle of some vast westerly streaming lake.

  Now that he could see, he moved forward and had Patty and Flapjack get to the rear. The raft was wedged in between two hugely thick branches, its own weight and their own buoyancy was most of the problem.

  Lee turned back. “I think we'll be alright just staying here."

  "What about when the eye passes?” Phoebe asked.

  "I don't know. We'll do the best we can."

  Patty still carried Flapjack, hugging him like one of her stuffed animals.

  "Don't you think you should let him breathe a little?” Lee asked.

  "He'll get away,” Patty pouted.

  "He'll probably be better off,” Lee replied.

  Patty let him go, but surprisingly, the duck stayed hunkered down in her lap.

  A section of picket fence came floating by, and Lee grabbed it. He kicked out two pickets, being careful to work the nails out and all the way through before bringing the pieces into the raft.

  "What'd you do that for?” Phoebe asked.

  Lee handed her a picket. “These'll make good paddles in a pinch, if we need ‘em."

  "I'm thirsty,” complained Patty cupping a handful of water. “Can I have a drink?"

  Lee shook his head. “The water's dirty. There's probably sewage and everything in there."

  Patty dropped the water, “Potty water, ewww."

  She had to content herself with stroking Flapjack and swirling her fingers around off the side of the raft, as there was nothing else to do.

  Lee kept worrying about Ridley and Betty. He hoped they hadn't been able to get out. He doubted if they could drown, and he desperately didn't want to see a hand suddenly emerge from the water.

  As if in answer to his fears he spied a white form floating toward them half submerged. There was no mistaking that it was a person, face down. He looked to Patty who was still sitting in the back.

  She caught his eyes. “What?"

  Phoebe had seen it too. She reached over, putting a hand on Lee's arm.

  The body floated in closer; no mistake possible that it wasn't a woman, the shoulders were too slight and it had long, dark hair.

  Phoebe creeped over against Lee. “Shouldn't we do something?"

  Unconsciously, Lee had raised the picket in defense. “Do what?"

  The body was closing in; the current swifter than it appeared. Patty moved away from the back of the raft, bringing Flapjack with her to try to snuggle in between Phoebe and Lee.

  For a moment the awful thing disappeared, then bobbed up at the last instant before pushing into the back of the raft.

  Patty had begun to cry.

  "Maybe it'll just go under,” Phoebe said.

  With the picket at the ready, Lee moved back keeping to his knees. He could see Betty, remembering how she'd come back to life, the look in her yellow eyes, and the smell of death in the air.

  "Lee?” Phoebe hushed. “Be careful!"

  It was plain that it hadn't passed under; the pressure from the weight of the body had bowed in the fabric at the stern of the raft.

  The board ready, cautiously, Lee peered over the edge.

  The head was there sticking up out of the water, the face concealed by the thick, black matting of hair.

  He held the picket with one hand and reached down, sticking his fingers into the sodden thatch, pulling the hair back and ready to swing. He turned back to Phoebe and Patty, who obviously didn't expect to see his grin.

  "What?” Phoebe yelled. “Who is it?"

  Lee sat down on the back thwart. “It's a manikin."

  Patty looked at Phoebe.

  "A dummy,” she explained to Patty, her relief as bright as Lee's. “You know, from a store window."

  "Oh?” Patty wiped the fresh tears of fear from her eyes. “I thought it was them again."

  Phoebe hugged her to her side caressing her hair. “Me too, baby."

  Lee put the picket down and reached over to tug the figure free. It turned over wallowing in the water as it passed by, one hand coming up as though a plea for help. Lee couldn't help but notice the black, stenciled imprint on the back of the neck, which read: “Wren's Boutique."

  Amongst all the other junk, a few minutes later a coffee can floated by, still with its lid on. Lee reached out with the picket and drew it in.

  "You gonna make us some coffee?” Phoebe teased, as Lee poured the contents overboard.

  "We can bail with this when the rain comes back,” he said, demonstrating by scooping out a gallon of water from the bottom of the raft.

  Phoebe looked up at the pretty blue sky. “I can't believe it's not over."

  Lee put the coffee can between his knees, sitting down in the water. “It's coming. That's probably the only thing we can count on."

  As if to illustrate his point, a gust of wind came from nowhere and blew Phoebe's hair away from her face.

  As quickly as the eye had come, it drew past. To the south, there had appeared a definable edge where the blue sky was no more, and an awful, blackish, green wall of seething clouds took its place.

  Pendulous, Lee thought, remembering the word again. But he knew that what was coming was anything but pendulous.

  Once again, it quickly grew dark as the wall came up on them. Almost too quickly, the rain was back, even harder than before. Lightening crashed about crazily, and the wind whistled as it tore through the branches. They all huddled down as low as they could get. Helpless and waiting for whatever might come.

  A tremendous blast of wind almost lifted the raft up and spilled them out. Phoebe was bailing with the coffee can, and had to drop it and hang onto the side to keep from being pitched over. Lee grabbed Patty, who in turn had Flapjack who had snuggled in with Patty, appearing to prefer the squeezing to the wind.

  From the other side, another fearful gust hit, and the raft pushed back and spun free from the grasp of the tree. With the deluge coming down, seemingly from everywhere it was difficult for Lee to see to steer. Still, with the white picket, he did a good job of keeping them from becoming hung up again as they were swept away through the outskirts of the mangled grove of trees.

  Suddenly, Lee realized he knew where they were. The to
ps of a few rail car roofs stuck out from the water along with the booms and gaffes of some heavy equipment even a gale force wind couldn't budge.

  "We're in the train yard,” he hollered out.

  The current was becoming swift and strong. Waves were forming, and eddies were surging behind every piece of equipment, heavy enough to resist the flow. They passed along the line of semi-submerged cars that were the wreck of the Midnight Flyer. Lee felt as if he could hear the piano tinkling and the victims laughing, trapped in the past and the present along with the heavy, malefic presence that kept them imprisoned there. Once again, he thought of Ridley and Betty, knowing they weren't going to just give up. But they passed over, and thankfully the experience was only fleeting.

  Now, there was no time to be concerned about anything other than keeping the raft from avoiding possible pins. Lee was smart enough to realize that it was really just an oversized tube, just like those he and Phoebe had floated a few weeks ago, down a lazy, green Yalahalla. But this Yalahalla had swollen to become an enormous, yellow-brown beast, carrying them on its writhing back along with all the other debris razed by the storm.

  Though he couldn't see the high bluffs due to the torrential rain, he knew they were close by, which meant they had been drawn into the main current. Gauging from how high the water was in the train yard, he figured the river would no longer be running under the train trestle, but through it.

  And all the while he tried to stay low and keep out of the stinging rain, but now he had no choice but to sit up to look ahead. He kept the fence picket behind, dragging it in the water to use as a rudder, hoping to be able to steer when the need was most critical.

  "Phoebe!” Lee called out. “Keep bailing! And be ready to paddle when I tell you!"

  Phoebe was laying low in the front, dunking the coffee can and dumping it over the side as quickly as it filled. It didn't seem to be making much of a difference, but every gallon out meant less weight, and less chance of swamping and totally losing control.

  Patty was scrunched down as low as she could go next to Phoebe. She had Flapjack in one hand and the fence picket in the other.