Gia stumbled back a step, shaken. "What?" How could she know? "Who are you?"
"I'm your mother." She spoke flatly, as if stating the obvious. "A mother knows these things."
That clinched it. Gia's mother was in Iowa and this woman was crazy. She had her going for a moment with that remark about the baby… a wild lucky guess.
"Thank you for your concern," she said, backing away toward the house. Never confront a crazy person. "But I've really got to get inside."
The woman stepped closer. "Oh, please," she said, her voice thick with anguish. She clutched her braid with both hands now, twisting it back and forth. She seemed genuinely upset. "Don't go in there. Not tonight."
Gia slowed her retreat as something within her cried out to listen. But she couldn't stay out here when Jack was inside, possibly hurt. She forced herself to turn and run up the steps to the porch. The front door stood open. Without knocking she hurried inside and closed it behind her and felt…
… welcome.
How odd. Almost as if the house were overjoyed to see her. But that wasn't possible. Just relief from escaping that crazy woman.
"Hello?" she called. "Jack? Lyle? Charlie?"
Then Gia heard the music. She couldn't catch the words but it sounded upbeat and soulful. And it was coming from the cellar. She hurried down the steps but stopped when she saw the devastation. It looked like a bomb had gone off—the paneling and concrete floor had been torn to pieces and scattered; random holes had been dug into the dirt beneath.
And then she saw Charlie, huddled against the far wall. He looked terrified and was gesturing to her. His mouth worked, forming words, but he wasn't speaking. What was he trying to tell her? He looked crazy. First the Indian lady, now Charlie. Had everyone gone mad?
"Charlie? Where's Jack?"
The music stopped. And with that Charlie started to speak.
"Gia!" He pointed to her left. "She—it's here!"
Gia stepped into the cellar and gasped when she noticed the little girl.
"Tara?" After visiting her father, seeing her photo collection, hearing her story, Gia felt as if she knew this child. "It's really you, isn't it."
She nodded her blond head. "Hello, mother."
Mother? There seemed to be a lot of confusion about that going around.
"No, I'm not your mother."
"Oh, I know."
"Then why—?"
Charlie pushed away from the wall and edged closer. "Get out, Gia! She been waiting on you."
"That's okay, Charlie." Despite the cellar's cool dampness, Gia felt warm and welcome. "I'm not afraid. Where's Jack?"
"He and Lyle left me here alone." He pointed to Tara. "Then that showed up."
"My mother…" Tara frowned. "She doesn't think about me anymore."
"That's because she can't, honey. She—"
"I know." The words came out flat, with no feeling.
Charlie had reached her side now. He gripped her arm with a cold, trembling hand. His voice sounded ragged, barely above a whisper.
"We gotta get outta here. If she let us."
Gia looked at Tara. "You're not holding us here, are you?"
The child smiled wistfully. "I'd like the mother to stay for a while."
"Not right!" Charlie said. "Dead and living don't mix!"
"Why don't you go," Gia said. "I'll stay."
"Nuh-uh." Charlie shook his head. "Not without you, I ain't. This is bad—she bad. Can't you feel it?"
Gia felt sorry for him. He was so frightened he was shaking. Oddly, she felt perfectly calm. Hard to believe she was talking to the ghost of a murdered child and didn't feel the least bit afraid. Because she knew this poor lost soul, understood what she needed.
"I'll be fine."
He shook his head again. "We both go or we both stay."
"Tell you what." She took Charlie's arm and led him toward the steps. "We'll both go up and then I'll come back down, just for a few minutes."
But as they reached the steps Gia stopped—not because she wanted to, but because something was blocking her way. An invisible wall.
With a chill of foreboding she turned. "Tara?"
"You can't go," Tara said with a pout. "I need the mother to stay."
That's the heart of it, Gia thought. She wants a mother—needs a mother.
She felt the nurturer within her responding, reaching out to quell that need. But she had to be realistic here.
Gia spoke softly, slowly. "Look, Tara, I know you want your mother, but she can't come. I can't take her place, but •f there's something I can—"
Tara shook her head. "No. You don't understand. I don't want a mother."
Gia stared at her, baffled. "Then what—?"
And then everything changed. A wave of cold slammed through the air as Tara's expression shifted from sweet innocence to rage. She bared her teeth.
"I want to be a mother."
The earth suddenly gave way under Gia's feet. She screamed as she and Charlie tumbled into the black pit that opened beneath them.
10
As soon as Lyle stepped out of the taxi he sensed something was wrong.
Then he saw someone running toward him along the sidewalk. He tensed, ready to jump back into the cab until he recognized Jack.
"Hey, Jack. What's the hurry?"
Jack stopped before him, puffing, but not too heavily. "Gia. I think she's here."
"Why would—?" He stopped himself. "Never mind. Let's go see."
As they walked toward the house Lyle said, "You run all the way from Manhattan?"
"Just from the subway."
"Why didn't you take a cab?"
"Subway's faster this hour."
Lyle looked at Jack and noticed that his outline was no longer blurred. Maybe his strange new awareness was gone, or maybe it only worked in the house. But the nearer Lyle drew to the house, the stronger the sense of wrongness. He couldn't place his finger on it until—
"I'll be damned!" He stopped, staring.
Jack stopped beside him. "What?"
"The windows… the doors… they're closed!" He laughed. "This is great! We can put on the AC now."
"I don't like it," Jack said, moving again.
"Why not? Maybe it means whatever's been there has gone home."
"I doubt it."
Lyle followed Jack, saw him go to step up onto the front porch, then fall back.
"What the—?"
Lyle came up beside him. "What happened? Slip?"
And then Lyle could go no further. He stared at his foot, stranded in midair halfway to the first porch step. A chill ran down his back as he kicked his shoe forward, putting some weight behind it, but it didn't get any farther than before.
"Oh, man!" he said as icy fingers clawed his gut. "Oh, man, oh, man, oh, man! What's this shit?"
"I don't know," Jack said.
He threw a punch at the air but his fist came to a screaming halt in midair. Lyle tried the same. Pain shot through his shoulder as his hand stopped short at about the same plane as Jack's.
It wasn't like hitting a wall. It wasn't like hitting anything. No impact. His hand simply… stopped. And no matter how hard he pushed it wouldn't advance a millimeter farther.
Lyle glanced at Jack and saw him backing up, searching the ground. He bent, came up with a rock, and threw it. Lyle watched it arc toward the house, then stop in midair and drop to the ground.
With a guttural roar Jack hurled himself at the front steps, only to stop short and stagger back.
"Easy, Jack."
"Gia's in there!"
"You don't know that."
"I do! Damn! This is what Tara was after all along—to get Gia alone in there."
"But she's not alone. Char—" Lyle's heart tripped, skipped a beat. "Oh, shit. Charlie's in there too. What do you think's happening?"
"Don't know, but it can't be good if she's got the place sealed up." He started for the side of the house. "Let's see if this goes all the way around
."
It did. They circled the house, punching at its windows and rear door, throwing rocks at it. Anyone seeing them had to think they were drunk and locked out. They called for Gia and Charlie, but no one answered.
Then they came to the garage—and walked right in. But they couldn't reach the door from the garage to the house.
Lyle leaned against the impenetrable air and felt sick. This couldn't be—shouldn't be. What was happening to the world?
"Jack…"
His face was reddening with the effort of trying to force a broom handle through the barrier. "Gets to you, doesn't it. Down is up, up is down, immutable laws get broken, things you always thought impossible aren't." With a grunt of frustration he tossed the broom across the garage. "Welcome to my world."
Lyle spotted a ladder leaning against the wall. "Hey, if we can't get through it, maybe we can get over it."
"Do not waste your time," said a woman's voice. "You cannot."
Lyle turned and saw a Hindu woman in an orange sari. Her dark eyes, and those of the big German shepherd standing beside her, were on Jack.
"Why not?" Lyle said.
"Because it goes up far."
"How far?" Jack said,
"Forever."
Who was this lady? Where'd she come from?
"How do you know so much about this?" Lyle asked.
"I know."
The way she said it, Lyle believed her.
"You've got to do better than that," Jack said.
He took a step toward her but stopped when the dog growled.
Her eyes flashed at him. "Have I not warned you about this house and its dangers for you and your woman? Have I not? And neither of you listened!"
Why didn't I know about this? Lyle thought.
"Yeah, you did. And obviously we should have. So what? I-told-you-so doesn't solve the problem. If you know so much, what's going on in there?"
"Your woman and her baby are in grave danger."
Baby? Was Gia pregnant? Lyle saw Jack blanch. He looked frightened, something Lyle hadn't thought possible.
"How do—? Never mind. What kind of danger? Why?"
"The why does not matter because the why has changed. But the danger is mortal."
Lyle's mouth went dry. "Charlie too?"
She didn't look at him. "Anyone in that house now is in danger."
How could she know all this—any of it? She could be wrong or just plain crazy.
Jack seemed to have bought it. He was turning in a circle, his hands raised and balled into fists. He looked ready to explode.
"Got to be a way in. Got to!"
The woman's eyes remained fixed on Jack. She paid Lyle no more heed than a piece of furniture.
"You cannot break in, and no one inside can break out. You must be allowed in or out."
"Allowed? How do we arrange that?"
"I do not know for certain. Perhaps by offering the entity something she wants more than your woman."
Jack said nothing, just stood and stared at the woman.
"Name it," Lyle told her. This was Charlie, his brother at risk here too. The sky was the limit. "Whatever it is we can use to trade, name it and we'll do our damnedest to get it."
"It's not an it," Jack said. He started for the door with a strange light in his eyes, almost like glee, yet disturbingly malevolent. It made Lyle want to back away. "It's a he. And I know who. Let's go."
Lyle had a sudden inspiration as to who that "he" might be and was very glad he was not him.
11
"You all right?" Charlie said from where he sprawled next to her.
Gia had landed on her left leg harder than her right and it hurt. She pulled it under her and tried to stand, leaning against the dirt wall at her back for support. It held.
"I think so." She brushed off her jeans. "How about you?"
Charlie stood easily. "Fine."
Light filtered down from above. Gia looked up. She could see the panels of the cellar ceiling, but all around her was dirt. She and Charlie had dropped into a well-like pit maybe a dozen feet deep and half that across.
She fought a surge of panic as the walls seemed to tilt toward her and move in. She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth to let the moment pass. She'd never been claustrophobic, but she'd never been tossed into an oubliette before either.
"Tara?" she called. Her fear-dry throat made it sound more like a croak than a name. "Tara!"
No reply.
"Tara, why are you doing this to us? We never hurt you. We can help bring your killer to justice. Please let us out!"
Only silence from above.
Gia's heart pounded as she ran her hands over the smooth circular wall. The dirt was hard packed, with no ridges or depressions for handholds.
She glanced at Charlie. His wild-eyed gaze darted up and around and back. He licked his lips as he placed his sneakered right foot against the wall, then stretched out his arms and placed both hands against the opposite side. When he raised his left foot and put it next to his right, he was arched across the pit. Now he started inching his hands and feet upward toward light and freedom.
But after half a foot or so his hands slipped off the wall and he fell, landing on all fours like a cat. Without a word he tried again, with the same result.
He stood and leaned against the wall, head back, eyes closed, breathing hard.
"Lord, give me the strength for this, I pray you. Please."
He tried again and this time advanced maybe a foot before falling. He sat hunched against the wall, knees up, head down, the picture of dejection.
"If the walls was just one foot closer—half a foot, even—I could slam it. I know I could."
"It's okay," Gia said softly. "You gave it your best shot."
"Not good enough." He stood and looked at her. "We trapped."
Gia glanced up and thought about standing on Charlie's shoulders. But even then she'd be short of the upper rim.
"Maybe Tara will get us out when she's ready."
"When's that gonna be? And why we down here anyway?"
Gia shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe she just wanted us out of the way."
"That don't make no sense."
Gia had to agree, but did a ghost have to make sense? Look at what she'd said before the ground opened up: I want to be a mother. What did that mean? How could she be a mother? She was dead. But that wouldn't stop her from wanting what she couldn't have, Gia supposed.
"At least we're not hurt." She pointed to her shoulder bag lying on the dirt floor. She'd dropped it when they fell. "And we won't go hungry because I have a couple of power bars in my—" She dropped to her knees beside the bag as she remembered. "Oh, God. My cell phone!"
She rummaged through the jumbled contents and pulled out the phone, but when she turned it on, nothing happened. No light, no beep, no power.
"Damn, it's dead."
Charlie knelt beside her. "Like I said. We trapped. She wouldn't let us up the steps and I bet she ain't lettin' nobody down. All we got left is prayer."
"And hope that Jack figures out I'm here." Gia cursed herself for not leaving him a note, but she thought she was going to him. "Once he knows, he'll get us out."
Charlie looked at her. "You say that like it a done deal."
"In a way it is. He's inventive and relentless and he won't quit on me. Ever." The simple truth of that was a balm on her nerves.
"That ain't no done deal. That's just a hope."
Gia smiled. "No… it's faith." She looked around at the high dirt walls. "But we ought to be trying something to get ourselves out." She reached out and touched the pin on Charlie's sweatshirt, "wwjd. Not a bad idea in a situation like this."
"True that. What Would Jesus Do?"
"I was thinking more along the lines of What Would Jack Do?" A thought occurred to her. "Where's Lyle, by the way?"
"Out mackin' some ladies group. Shoulda been back by now."
"I'd guess you can count on him doing what he can to get you
out of here as well, right? WWLD—What Would Lyle Do?"
Charlie looked away. "Anything he could. He never let me down before, not 'bout to start now." Gia heard a catch in his voice. "More'n he can say for me."
"I don't understand."
"Long story."
"I think we've got time."
He shook his head and looked ashamed. "Nuh-uh."
As Charlie folded his hands and bowed his head to pray, Gia scanned the walls again looking for something, anything. She remembered Jack asking her once if she wanted to take up wall climbing. She'd laughed him off. The last thing she wanted to do with her spare time was cling to a wall like a bug. Now she wished she'd taken him up on it. Not that this wall offered much in the way of handholds, but at least—
What was that?
She spotted something shiny up on the wall. There. About six inches or so above her head. Keeping her eyes fixed on the spot, she reached up and touched it. Something hard stuck in the dirt. It felt metallic. She dug her fingernails into the dirt around it, clearing some away, but it was too hard.
"Charlie? I've found something."
He was beside her in a flash. "What? Where?"
"It's some kind of metal."
Charlie's extra height put him at eye level with it. "Look like brass or copper. Probably just scrap from when the place built."
"Let's dig it out. Who knows? Maybe it's something we can use."
"A'ight. Let's see."
As Charlie dug with his hands, Gia knelt and dug into her shoulder bag again. Finally she found it.
"Here," she said, holding up a metal nail file. "Try this."
He took it and began stabbing at the dirt, loosening it and then digging it out with his fingers. Soon it became clear that they'd found some sort of metal bar. When he'd exposed enough of it, Charlie grabbed the end and began wiggling it back and forth.
"Here we go!" he said as dirt began flying everywhere. "We got it now!"
Suddenly it came free and he stumbled back, falling against the opposite wall. He shook off the dirt and held up what he'd unearthed.
Gia gasped. "A cross!"
A cross with no top piece worth mentioning. Exactly like the crosses left on the wall after the whirlpool had receded. This one's crosspiece was slightly bent and twisted and looked like nickel or silver; the upright was brass, or something that looked very much like it.
Repairman Jack 06 - The Haunted Air Page 41
