by Aaron Polson
~
Johnny pressed his gloved hands against the shed, searching for the door. He found the metal handle and pushed. It gave with a weak groan. He stepped over the yellow power supply cord from the generator as it ran through the entrance and under the snow. Hopefully, he’d be able to fire up the generator and they’d be sitting around an electric heater within an hour. Inside the shed, the howl of prairie wind vanished. Johnny waited for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness inside. He tugged on the orange cord, a security blanket to make sure he was still connected to the world.
Light filtered through cracks in the walls and under corner of the roof, just enough light to find the floor in front of him empty.
“What the fuck,” he muttered. He spun and checked the packed dirt near the entryway. The cord—the thick yellow power cable he’d just stepped over was gone.
Tricked.
Johnny’s stomach dropped. He wrapped his fingers around the tether and pulled it from the snow. The line gave too much slack. He stood in the shed’s doorway and, hand over hand, reeled the orange line toward him like a fisherman. It gave too much slack. Too much… The plug popped up, from the drift.
His gaze lifted; his heart froze. The house’s gray specter was gone. Vanished. He stepped through the shed doorway into a sea of white.
~
Kelsey braced herself against the wall. Her head spun. Ben’s blood pooled thick and near-black on the hallway floor. His head had lolled back, his eyes open. She wouldn’t check his pulse—she couldn’t bring herself to touch his too-pale skin. He was dead. She swallowed and crept along the hallway.
Sobbing came from Johnny’s room. She paused, listening.
“Daniel,” she called. “Daniel, it’s me. It’s Kelsey.”
“I-I can’t do this.”
Kelsey held her breath for a moment. “I’m coming in.”
“No,” he said.
“I need you to give me the gun.” She closed her eyes and pressed her body against the smooth, cold wall. “I need you to give me the gun when I come into the room.”
“No. Please…”
“I’ll count, okay? I’ll count to five.”
“I can’t do this. The body is in here, Kelsey. It’s all true. This house is a monster. I can’t do…”
“One…”
“It’s wrong…”
“Two…”
She inched closer to the door.
“Three…”
The pistol fired. The small “pop” surprised Kelsey. She’d expected something more. Something like an explosion which might shake the windows. She gripped the door jam and pulled herself into the room. Her stomach lurched. She fell against the wall, covering her mouth.
Daniel’s body was on the bed, one arm flung high over his head. The other arm draped to the side. Johnny’s pistol lay just beyond his outstretched fingers. His face—God. Kelsey turned away and heaved at the sight. She held her stomach and looked up, catching a glimpse of the desiccated corpse revealed in the wall opening before hearing her name.
~
Sarah wobbled on unsteady legs into kitchen after she’d heard the door slam shut. She held her weight against the counter, making for the window. A water puddle from newly melted snow covered the floor near the back door.
Someone had gone outside. She pressed a hand to her head, trying to think.
Who?
Why?
She leaned as best she could against the counter and struggled to see into the storm.
Another gunshot, muted and distant but sudden and unexpected, forced her back.
“Kelsey,” she called. “Kelsey!”
~
Kelsey thumped down the stairs. She stumbled and collided with the front door. The house smelled differently now. She closed her eyes and nosed the metallic tang of metal. A river of blood played behind her closed eyelids. She swallowed hard and staggered across the parlor.
“Sarah?”
Erin stirred on the couch. Her eyes bolted open.
“Where’s Sarah?” Kelsey asked.
Erin shook her head and winced at the effort.
Kelsey tore through the dining room and skidded to a halt at the kitchen archway. Sarah stood before the sink. One hand covered her face and her shoulders shook.
“My God…”
“Where’s the cord, Sarah?”
Sarah’s pale, thin face turned toward Kelsey. “Cord?”
“The orange power cable. It was tied right here. Right here.” Kelsey waved at the cabinet post.
“No cable. Someone went outside. They just shut the door.”
Kelsey held her breath and dashed for the door. She threw it open and thundered onto the back stoop. White. The whole world was lost in a mass of white.
“Johnny,” she called. “Johnny!”
“What are you doing?” Sarah asked.
Kelsey’s shoulders slumped. “He’s gone,” she said. “He’s gone like Wayne and Ben and Daniel and… Oh, Jesus, he’s gone.”
“What?”
Kelsey slumped through the door and slammed it shut behind her. A puff of snow fell at her heels. “He’s gone. He went out to fire up the generator, get us some heat. We tied a cord,” she waved toward the cabinet again. “We made him wear it around his waist.”
“There was no cord.”
Kelsey nodded. “It’s the house,” she said. Her eyes were lost and unfocused. “The house…”
“Upstairs… The gunshot…”
“Ben. Daniel shot him, twice. He’s in the hallway, dead. Daniel shot himself on Johnny’s bed. He must have put the barrel in his mouth… God…”
“Oh shit. Where’d he get the gun?”
Kelsey closed her eyes and pinched her temple between a thumb and forefinger. “Johnny. It was Johnny’s pistol. It’s the house, Sarah. The house is a monster.”
Sarah’s face was blank and pale.
“We can’t stay here,” Kelsey said.
“What do we do?”
The words echoed in Kelsey’s ears. What do we do? They would freeze or starve or both—even if they didn’t get out. The storm couldn’t last forever, but how long would it be before someone came looking for them? What had Ben told the tow service in Muskotah? What about the Harvest House? When would they return with food? Her hand slid down the side of her jeans until her fingers found the rectangular outline in her pocket: her father’s lighter.
Tears began to well in Sarah’s eyes. Her hands shook. “You s-saw Jared…”
Kelsey nodded.
“He’s—”
“Dead.”
“We can try the radio.” Sarah wagged a finger toward the dining room. Her voice was tiny and afraid. “We can use the radio, can’t we?”
Kelsey remembered static and shook her head. “It’s no good. We need a stronger signal. Something more powerful.”
“It’s the house…”
“Yes. The house. It won’t stop. It’s a maze—a God-forsaken living maze and we are the rats. I know that sounds crazy… Whatever it is, it won’t stop until we are dead. Get Erin. Bundle up, both of you. Wear layers, as much as you can. Take the blankets. I’ll meet you on the porch in ten minutes. You’ll need to help her.” Kelsey peered from the window. “The wind has died down. It looks like the snow is tapering off.”
“But…”
“It is the house, Sarah. It’s a monster.” Kelsey touched Sarah’s arm. “Please listen. Please. Can you meet me outside?”
“Kels…”
We make a big fire to keep us warm and hope somebody sees the smoke.
“Just get Erin.”
~
Kelsey stood at the bottom of the basement stairs. She held an oil lamp from the parlor in each hand. Blackness as thick as Wind Cave stared at her, taunted her. Her father’s voice sounded in her ear.
“Where are the others?” he asked.
Kelsey rolled her tongue through her mouth. She set one a lantern on the bottom step and fished her lighter
from her pocket. “Gone,” she said.
“Are they safe?”
“For now. I’ve locked them outside.” She spun the thumbwheel on the lighter. A yellow flame sparked. The pillars were wood, just as she remembered. Kelsey set down the Zippo; the flame continued to burn. She moved toward the first pillar, shattered the lantern’s glass flute against the wood, and soaked the wood with lamp oil.
“The house won’t go without a fight,” her father said.
“I know. It’s been fighting us since we arrived, picking us off one by one.” Kelsey tossed the metal lantern base onto the ground. It clattered and bounced into the shadows. She took up the second lantern and moved to the next pillar. Once it was soaked with oil, she returned for the lighter.
“This house is a monster,” Kelsey said. “Monsters have to be slain.”
“You don’t believe in monsters.”
Kelsey looked at the lighter. “I know.”
Her father smiled.
“I’m proud of you, Kelsey. I always have been. You’ve always been a smart girl—a smart woman.”
She wiped tears from her cheek. Her hands shook. “You’re just a memory.”
“Does that make me any less real?”
Kelsey shook her head.
“The house won’t let you go,” he said.
“I’m not planning on going anywhere,” she said.
With that, Kelsey knelt and ignited the wood. Orange and yellow tongues chased up each pillar, and then spread along the joists. She sat on the lowest step, took a breath and said, “Come get me.”
Chapter 36: Rescue
The door to the shed buffeted and gave. Wood cracked.
“I want to check in here,” a voice said.
The door rocked on its hinges. Light streamed inside, blinding, snow-amplified light. Sarah, numb and cold and twisted from hunger pangs, shielded her eyes. She patted a trembling hand on Erin’s coat.
“Two survivors,” a gruff, male voice said. “Get some blankets over here.”
Several pairs of strong hands lifted Sarah and Erin from the shed’s floor, the only place they could find refuge after being locked from the house—after the house caught fire and they pounded and pounded on the door. Kelsey never answered. Now, Sarah felt as though she floated. Her old blanket sloughed from her shoulders, replaced by one warm and light and wonderful.
The gruff voice belonged to a barrel-chested sheriff’s deputy wearing a dark green jacket. There were other men and women, too, paramedics… more deputies. Two ambulances waited along with a snowplow and an SUV with a sheriff’s star sparkling on the side.
“So with the guy we found,” gruff voice said. “How many is that?”
“Three live ones,” said a thinner man in a green jacket. “He’s in pretty bad shape—gonna lose some fingers at least. But I’ll tell you what, Earl. That poor bastard would’ve been dead if it wasn’t for the fire. Damn thing was like the biggest signal flare I’ve ever seen.”
The name Johnny formed in Sarah’s mind, but her lips were frozen and useless.
“Damnedest thing. What the hell was he doing outside with these other two in the shed?”
The thin deputy shook his head. “Dunno. We’ve got one hell of a mess though.” He shook his head and cursed. “Reporters, Larry. God damn snowplow just clears the road and they’re on us like stink on shit.”
A paramedic spoke in Sarah’s ear, marshaling her toward the waiting ambulances. Sarah couldn’t make out any words, just a sweet, soft voice. She turned and found the smoldering ruins of a huge, brick building. Red brick walls stood in fragments, but the rest of the house was a smoking heap.
“K-k-k…” She tried to speak.
The paramedic patted her shoulders. “Take it easy, honey. We’ll warm you up.”
The deputies were speaking with a man in a dark blue parka with a small black box in his hand. Sarah strained to hear, even as she was pulled away.
“…several in the house.”
“How many,” the man in dark blue asked.
“Two outside. At least four inside, but it’s going to be a while before we can do a thorough search. We don’t have IDs yet, couldn’t give ‘em to you at this point, anyway.”
“Do you suspect arson, deputy?”
“What the hell do you think, Bill?”
Sarah’s eyes traced a black line of smoke into the air. Arson. Kelsey had locked them out—she was the one who forced them to stay in the cold while she burned the house. She burned the house and saved them—what was left of them. The paramedic steered her left, toward the waiting maw of an ambulance. Kelsey saved her. She saved her and Erin. Sarah’s shoulders began shaking, her chest heaving with sobs as the flashing ambulance lights painted the snow red.
~
Thank you for reading Echoes of the Dead. I’d love to hear feedback—both praise and criticism. You can always reach me at [email protected] or my home on the ‘net, www.aaronpolson.net.
Echoes of the Dead was professionally edited, but sometimes errors slip by even the most-trained eyes. Should you find something amiss in the text, drop me a line at [email protected] and you’ll be entered in a quarterly drawing for an Amazon.com gift card.
Other Kindle books by Aaron Polson
The House Eaters, a young adult horror novel
Loathsome, Dark and Deep, historical adventure-horror novel set in the Pacific Northwest
We are the Monsters, a short novel of ghosts and guilt
Monsters Among Us, a collection of 39 stories of fantasy, crime, and horror
Thirteen Shadows, ghost stories
Violent Ends, horror stories
The Bottom Feeders, horror and dark fantasy stories
Write Hard, a toolkit for fiction writers
A Feast of Flesh, tales of zombies, monsters, and demons
These Darkened Streets, tales of small town dark fantasy
