I was startled by a tap on my window at eleven forty-five. I opened my mouth, ready to lay into Rose, but instead found a wide-eyed Richard on the other side of the glass. I should have known it wasn’t Rose; she didn’t bother to knock, and never seemed to use the tree.
I opened the window. “Dude, what the hell?”
“So are we going to open the cellar or what?” Richard asked. He was clinging precariously to a branch, so I helped him inside, grimacing at the discomfort radiating from my ribs. Richard tumbled onto the floor, and I jumped back so he wouldn’t roll over me.
“Uh, yeah. I just didn’t know you were coming. You could have called. I would have let you in the front door.”
I heard another sound at the window, and turned to see Monica jump in, unassisted and with a lot more grace.
“He bet me that he could climb up here using the tree.” She stared down at Richard, who had finally come to a stop face down in the middle of my floor.
Becky crawled in next, closing the window behind her.
“I wanted to make sure I could climb up here, too. Seemed like it might be a useful skill to have.” She winked.
Monica rolled her eyes as she helped Richard haul himself up. Once he was standing—and sure he was going to stay that way—he gave me a high five.
“Knew I could do it!”
Becky noticed Death Karts playing on my TV. “Practicing, huh? You’re not worried, are you, Chris?”
“About the ghost? I think Chris knows we can handle her,” said Richard, oblivious to the target of Becky’s insinuation.
Monica patted Richard’s back, and we filed out of the room and down the stairs in time to see Eve letting Trevor and Savannah in the front door. This was turning out to be a regular party. Trevor and Savannah weren’t my favorite people, but I had to give them credit: at least they had the brains to use the door.
Chapter 30
My heart pounded as we entered the kitchen. This had to be it. I didn’t have a backup plan if the cellar was empty.
I opened the pantry door. As large as the room was, it felt crowded as everyone packed in behind me. Built-in shelves lined every wall and, even though I knew where to look, it still took a minute to find the catch.
“Here it is,” I said when my finger encountered a slight depression.
Everyone leaned in, faces expectant. I pressed the indentation. Nothing happened. It didn’t budge.
There was a moment of collective silence before Eve said impatiently, “Well? Come on, open it!”
“I’m trying!” I pressed again, harder this time. Still nothing.
“Maybe that’s not it,” Becky suggested.
I tried one more time, using the weight of my body as I leaned into it. The thing wouldn’t move.
“Here, let me try.” Richard and I swapped places. He reached his arm under the shelf and felt for the catch. I saw his massive arm tighten as he pressed it. Then he grabbed one of the shelves with his other hand and tugged. The muscles in his back and arm bulged until I thought he would tear the entire wall down.
Finally, we heard a muffled click, and a crack appeared in the paint. We watched it radiate upward from the floor almost to the ceiling, then horizontally a few feet, before heading back down to the floor.
“It was painted shut.” Richard grinned at us, stating the obvious.
“Well, don’t just stand there—open it already!” said Savannah, eyes wide.
Richard stepped aside and then said to me, “Here, dude. You do the honors.”
I pulled. The wall made a crackling sound as the paint fell away. The thin outline widened, and the door creaked open. Becky coughed behind me as we were accosted by a strong musty smell. The meager pantry light fought its way into the darkness just a few feet before dying.
Huddled against the door at the top of the stairs was the body of a little girl. Most of her flesh was gone, only bones beneath the pale pink dress. Her long dark hair was splayed out around her head, obscuring the skull.
“Oh my God,” whispered Becky.
“Why didn’t she just open the door?” asked Trevor.
It was a good question. I checked out the inside of the door. There was a lever, but because it had to work the other side of the secret catch, it wasn’t positioned like a standard doorknob. It was set almost five feet off the ground, too high for her to reach.
We all stood there for a minute, taking this in. Finally Richard put it into words.
“Damn, that’s messed up.”
Savannah reached around me to flip a switch that sat a few inches inside the threshold. Light shone from below, better illuminating Emily. I bent down to see her, and perhaps unconsciously to share her perspective for a moment. She had died alone in the dark, without even her little doll for company. Her nails had been broken; I looked at the door, knowing I’d find the scratches where she tried to claw her way through. It was an image I’d spend my life trying to forget.
“What else is down there?” asked Trevor. He bobbed behind me, trying to get a better look.
“Dunno. But I guess we might as well find out.” I stood up and stepped over the body, careful not to disturb it. I crept down the wooden stairs, Trevor right behind me.
It was a full basement, the same size as the two floors and attic above it. The floor and walls were concrete, with no windows. That explained why no one knew it was there. The design was ideal for keeping prying eyes away from the rituals that had taken place here. If the room in the attic was the office where Charlotte had researched her spells, then this was the lab where she had practiced them.
Magical symbols danced around a large chalk pentagram drawn on the floor. The walls were dotted with other signs and runes. Paraphernalia-covered tables littered the room, and the walls were lined with shelves stuffed with jars and books. Monica had already begun to circle the room, examining them.
“This place is really bad news,” said Savannah. She had stopped at the base of the stairs and seemed reluctant to proceed any further.
“We can worry about all this later. First, let’s get Emily buried before she wakes up.” I meant it figuratively, referring to her ghost, but once I said it, a whole other possibility surfaced in my mind. I hurried up the stairs to search for something to carry Emily in.
Eve had beaten me to it. By the time I reached the top of the stairs, she was already on her way back from the dining room. She held out a white tablecloth. No one else volunteered to do it, so I took the tablecloth from my sister and, as gently as I could, wrapped Emily’s body in the white linen.
Savannah had followed me up the stairs, and Eve had never gone down, but I had to call more than once to coerce everyone else out of the basement. Monica was the last to emerge.
Eve and Trevor got shovels from the shed while I put Emily in the trunk of Becky’s car. At the last minute, I remembered something and ran upstairs to my room. Breathless, I raced back and jumped into the passenger seat of the Mustang.
In observance of our solemn task, or maybe because she didn’t want to chance getting pulled over by Pico’s lone on-duty cop, Becky obeyed every traffic law. I spent the entire drive silently hoping we could put Emily to rest. When we pulled up to the chained gate, I realized the flaw in my plan. Fortunately, Eve was sharp, and had thought to bring bolt cutters. It also helped that both Trevor and Becky had flashlights in their cars. I was glad some people were thinking clearly.
We made our way to Charlotte’s grave. Non-threatening in the daylight, the place had taken on a different air at night. It didn’t help that I was carrying a corpse. The pathway between the cemeteries was even creepier. We had crossed the bridge and were nearly to the gate when my sister let out a chilling shriek that could have woken the dead. I almost dropped Emily as I whirled around.
“You asshole!” Eve punched Trevor in the arm.
He was laughing so hard he was literally doubled over. I had no idea what happened, but even Becky was smirking. I hoped there was no nighttime securit
y guard, because if so, we were certain to get caught.
“Where are we going?” asked Eve. She had moved next to me, refusing to be near Trevor after whatever stunt he’d pulled.
“To the old graveyard,” Savannah answered. I had no idea how she knew about it. I was pretty sure her family wouldn’t have anyone buried in there.
Becky stepped around and opened the gate for me. The creak would have done a haunted house proud. I stumbled a few times over the uneven ground before Trevor took the hint and shined his light in front of me.
At last, we reached Charlotte’s grave.
“Let’s get this done,” I said.
Richard, Trevor, and I started digging. It takes a long time to dig out a six-foot hole, and the night was half gone before the first shovel found the lid of the coffin. We cleared away enough dirt to open it.
Becky and Savannah pointed the flashlights into the grave.
“You’re up, big guy,” said Becky.
“Wait, what? No way! Why me?” Richard looked less than thrilled.
“Like, because you’re so big and strong.” Monica flashed him a smile before blowing a bubble.
Richard sighed, then jumped down. For half a second I thought his bulk might take him straight through the lid. When he landed firmly with a loud thud, I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
He gave us one last pitiful look, hoping someone would volunteer to take his place. Shoulders slumped, he finally bent down and, with a heave, opened the coffin.
“Ew,” said one of the girls as we looked upon Charlotte’s remains. I stared for a heartbeat before climbing down with Emily into the grave.
I carefully unwrapped the cloth, cradled Emily’s wasted body in my arms, and laid her next to her mother. Then I took the doll I had grabbed from my room before we left and set it in the crook of Emily’s arm.
I wished them well and closed the lid.
The hole was filled in much faster than it had been created. We worked to the sounds of shovels and falling dirt. No one spoke. Even Trevor had the decency to refrain from goofing off.
We did our best to smooth over the dirt when we were finished, but despite our best efforts, it was obvious the grave had been disturbed. Still, the Monroes had all died out in this county, and the old cemetery didn’t seem to get many visitors anyway. I hoped the grass would cover it all up before anyone could come around to notice anything amiss.
We all stood there for a moment, not knowing what to say. To my surprise, it was Savannah who spoke.
“These are the people who have come safely through the terrible persecution. They have washed their robes and made them white with the blood of the Lamb. That is why they stand before God’s throne and serve him day and night in his temple. He who sits on the throne will protect them with his presence. Never again will they hunger or thirst; neither sun nor any scorching heat will burn them, because the Lamb, who is in the center of the throne, will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of life-giving water. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”
“Dang, did you just make that up?” Trevor asked, impressed.
“Revelations,” Savannah said.
We walked back to the cars. It was finally over.
Chapter 31
I caught a ride home with Becky. My side was in so much pain from digging that I almost couldn’t stand it. When she parked the car a block from my house, I glanced down at my sweaty clothes and asked, “Do I look like I can use the exercise?”
“I think you look just fine; I just don’t want anyone seeing my car.”
“It’s like four in the morning. Everyone’s asleep.”
“They are now.” She got out of the car and got a bag out of her trunk.
“What are you doing?”
“Clothes for tomorrow.”
“Um…won’t your parents notice you’re gone when they wake up?”
“No, I’m sleeping over at Monica’s. We had to rehearse our routine for Friday’s rally.”
I certainly wasn’t going to tell her no.
“So I know you can’t get enough of me, and trust me, I’m not complaining, but why are you sneaking over here for two hours on a Wednesday night?” Cool, dry air poured from the air conditioning vents as I closed the bedroom door behind us. Normally I’d be happy with this development, but I suspected something was up.
“Just making sure you don’t have any bad dreams. Turn around.”
“Emily is gone. I’m safe,” I said, listening to her changing behind me.
“Not what I’m talking about. Okay, you can turn around.” She wore a Bailey Ford t-shirt that was long enough to be a mini-dress. “So how often do you dream about Rose?”
I seriously could not believe Eve had told her that! What was she trying to do to me? I desperately searched for an answer that wouldn’t get me in trouble, yet wasn’t a complete lie. A minute later, I was still thinking.
“That’s what I thought.” Becky shut and locked the windows. With relief, I saw Rose’s light was out and the shutters were closed.
I turned out the light, took off my dirty clothes, and fumbled around in vain for a t-shirt and shorts while Becky got into bed. Giving up, I crawled in next to her.
I couldn’t see Becky, but I could sense that she was just inches away from me. I lay on my back, eyes open in the darkness.
“So, you going to sleep over every night?”
“If I have to. Now go to sleep.”
“What, no goodnight kiss?”
“If we start that, neither one of us is going to be doing much sleeping.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” But she was right; we were both exhausted. I closed my eyes and felt the bed move as she leaned over to kiss my cheek. Then she snuggled up close, and within minutes we were both sound asleep. I didn’t know if it had anything to do with Becky, but I didn’t dream of Rose that night, and Emily seemed to be gone for good.
We woke to the alarm a couple of hours later.
A good-morning kiss was in order, followed fifteen minutes later by Becky asking me to turn around so she could get dressed.
“You’re just prolonging the inevitable. Saturday is strip Death Karts, remember.”
“Guess you’ll just have to wait until then.”
When I heard my closet open a moment later I turned and asked, “What are you doing?”
Becky was still wearing only the Bailey Ford t-shirt. She continued rummaging through my clothes as she answered, “Looking through your stuff.”
“You’re seriously not picking out my clothes, are you? I’m not Richard; I can do it myself!”
“Look at it this way: at least you’ll match for once.” She tossed a shirt at me.
“Who cares?” I said, grabbing the shirt. Next came a pair of shorts.
“Now turn around and stay that way, or you’ll spoil the mystery.”
I was preparing a witty rebuttal when my door opened. My heart stopped. If it was my mom, I was dead; if it was my dad, I was grounded for life. I almost fell over in relief to see Eve, who asked, “Is Becky still here?”
“Wow, does the whole school know?”
“Not for another hour or two. Bathroom’s all yours and, brother, you need it. I can’t believe you actually went to bed with all that dirt on you.” Eve must have gotten up early to be done with the bathroom over thirty minutes before we had to leave. It was some kind of record.
“I didn’t have much choice. But yes, I’m looking forward to a shower,” I said.
“At least you get one,” said Becky.
“You could always join me.” I risked a glance back at her, but she was already dressed.
She answered by shoving me out my door.
By the time I got back to my room, the girls were gone. I noticed the picture by my bed had changed. Red lips now adorned one corner and a silver glitter pen had written, “A goodnight kiss. Love, Becky.”
That day at school, I wasn’t the only on
e who was tired. None of us had gotten more than two hours of sleep, so our lunch group featured a lot of yawning faces. Becky spent most of the time leaning against me and napping.
I wanted to ask Becky what was up with Eve knowing about the sleepover. Unfortunately, we didn’t get any opportunities to talk in private, and I didn’t think she would appreciate my bringing it up in front of everyone at school. When I thought about it, asking my girlfriend why she would sleep with me wasn’t something I’d want to do in front of people anyway. I mean, if I couldn’t even think of a reason why she would do it….
To make matters worse, my friends were back to giving me concerned looks, and passing knowing glances to each other. By the end of the day I felt like I was in the middle of a conspiracy movie.
Later that evening at work, I told Mr. Sherman what I had learned about how Charlotte died, and what happened to Emily, and finally, what we did last night to fix it all. I don’t know why I told him. He could easily have freaked out and said we should have called the cops when we found the body, but he didn’t. He simply sat behind the counter and listened. When I was done, he nodded, and said he had figured something like that happened to Charlotte. He was saddened to hear about Emily having to suffer the way she did.
He agreed that bringing Charlotte and Emily together was the right thing to do. He was certain it would take care of the haunting. He did mention the police, but only to say that Mr. Givens was the lone survivor to prosecute, and that the only evidence against him was what he had told me himself, which he would just deny in court.
Before I left, I remembered to ask Mr. Sherman about the locked door in the back room. He smiled and said it was only a closet. The boxes had been piled up for so long he had forgotten about it.
I felt a little better about everything when I left. I swung by Freddy’s Drive-In on the way home, but neither Becky nor Monica was working. I thought Becky had told me that she had to work tonight, but I guess the continued lack of sleep was beginning to mess with my memory. Eve was asleep when I got home, so I couldn’t yell at her for telling Becky about my dreams. I considered waking her up just to bawl her out, but decided to let her get some rest. We all needed it.
The Haunting of Pico (Pico, Texas - Book 1) Page 24
