by JG Faherty
“Then I’ll disturb him.” Leaving wet tracks in his wake, Burns strode toward the second staircase, the one that led to the opposite side of the house from the guest rooms.
“No!” For the first time since they’d met her, Maria’s voice rose to a shout before returning to its usual meek volume. “I…I will speak with him. But it will take a while for him to compose himself. Please, return to your room. I have laid out dry clothes for you.”
“He’d better not take too long.” Burns turned and stomped up the right-hand staircase. A moment later, the booming of a door being slammed shut echoed through the castle.
Nestled under a rough, scratchy blanket on one of the couches, Erika turned to Jason. “What do you think we should do?”
“There’s nothing we can do until the storm breaks. If the professor wants us to help search the rest of the house for Lilly, we’ll help. Otherwise, we wait. But I’ll tell you this…” Jason put down his coffee and took Erika’s hand, “…as soon as that rain stops, we’re out of here. First, we’ll check the spot where we arrived.”
“Check for what?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But something brought us here. A black hole, a time anomaly… Maybe if we walk around, we’ll stumble into it the same way we did before.”
Jason shuddered as an unwelcome vision came to him, an image of a rock-strewn beach leading to a stagnant ocean filled with unseen sea creatures.
“What if we don’t find anything?”
Grateful to be pulled away from the memories of his daymare, Jason shook his head.
“If there’s nothing to lead us back to our own time, we’ll catch the first goddamned boat back to the mainland. We can’t trust Osvald to help us. He could stay locked in his room for weeks.”
Erika nodded. “All right.” She leaned over to hug him, but his stomach erupted in a series of growls, bringing a tiny smile to her lips.
“You’re still hungry.”
He nodded. “Buttered toast and some coffee wasn’t enough to tame this beast, I guess,” he said, patting his stomach. “Let’s see if we can get something else to eat.”
“Can we take it back to our room? Eating all alone in that giant dining room is creepy.”
“Anything for you, love.” Jason took her hand as they walked back to the kitchen. It struck him that he was glad it was Erika he’d gone to the carnival with, rather than taking his nephews or going with friends. As much as he hated to admit it to himself—and would never admit to her—he was already half-convinced there was a very real possibility they’d never return to their own time. Which meant it would be just him and Erika, alone, for the rest of their lives. Stranded in a strange world with no money, no friends or family and none of the comforts of modern living.
If that’s the case, at least with Erika here we’ll still be able to make a life for ourselves, get married, have children.
A picture flashed through his head—he and Erika living in a two-room tenement, him working a laborer’s job and her home with their three screaming kids. No television, no healthy food or clean water, no dentists and no modern medical care. How long would they survive? Into their forties, their fifties, if they were lucky?
Jesus Christ. We better find a way home.
The rest of the day passed slowly. After eating the sweet rolls they’d brought to the room, there was nothing else to do but watch the rain batter the world outside their windows. Twice, Jason went downstairs to look for Maria, but the main rooms were empty each time.
At three o’clock, he knocked on Burns’s door. When there was no answer, he peeked inside and found Burns asleep on top of the covers. Rather than wake him, Jason tossed a blanket over him and returned to the other guest room, where he and Erika napped for a while as well.
By six, Maria hadn’t come by to announce dinner, and Jason’s stomach was loudly demanding sustenance once again.
“Let’s go see what there is to eat,” he said to Erika, after they washed up as best they could with the freezing water in the hall bathroom.
On their way downstairs, they stopped to check on Burns, but he was still sleeping. Jason poked his shoulder, but the man only snorted and mumbled something in his sleep.
“Poor guy. He’s exhausted,” Erika said from the doorway.
“And I’m starving. We’ll bring him back something.”
The downstairs was still deserted. In the kitchen, they found the stove cold and the countertops bare. The storm continued to crash against the back of the house, so unrelenting in its fury that Jason found himself wondering if it would ever abate. The kitchen door rattled and banged as it fought to keep the unwanted gale from bursting inside.
Plank floorboards creaked and moaned while the hungry couple moved about the kitchen, scrounging odds and ends from the shelves and pantry to make a haphazard meal.
“I’ve got bread, some more of that jam and a block of very hard cheese,” Erika said, piling them on a counter.
Jason, who’d had to steel himself to enter the cold storage room again, returned with his arms full. “I can top that. How does smoked ham and sausages sound? No bacon, but it’s the next best thing. Plus, I found this.” He held up a dusty bottle. “Red wine. At least we can have a drink with dinner.”
They cut up the meat and cheese, spread jam on slices of thick, crusty bread and piled the food on three plates to bring upstairs. They found Burns just as out of it as he’d been earlier, so Erika left his plate on the nightstand. Then they returned to their room to eat, with the ever-present rain a constant companion in the background.
Jason tried to ignore it, but the unceasing liquid attack was beginning to get on his nerves. What kind of storm lasted for days without a break? The fact that they had no radio or television to distract them from their predicament made things worse. He’d never realized how much he depended on simple electronics, not only for entertainment purposes, but also to fill the silences in everyday life.
Like the gaps in conversation when two people had nothing to say to each other, but at the same time didn’t want to just sit there listening to each other chew.
“I really wish that goddamn rain would stop. Even for a few minutes.” He regretted the words immediately; they’d slipped out before he could stop them.
Perhaps recognizing his sour mood, Erika smartly changed the subject.
“I hope the professor doesn’t get mad at us for taking one of his bottles,” Erika said, refilling their glasses with the ruby-colored wine. The empty plates were stacked in the hallway. They’d pulled two chairs over near the window, whose wide sill served as a makeshift table, rather than eat on the bed. Outside, the wind continued to roar its way through the trees, and rain splashed against the thick glass in endless waves, obscuring the view of the ocean far below.
“The hell with him. He hasn’t exactly been the model host.”
“Jason, the man lost his family. How would you feel?”
“I’d feel horrible, but I wouldn’t ignore strangers stuck in my house. And I’d certainly be doing something to find someone if they were lost.”
Erika put down her wine, her lips curling up in a seductive smile. “Well, I know something we can do.” She ran a finger along his leg.
“That’s the best offer I’ve had all day.” He led her to the bed and lay down next to her. His initial worry that their dire situation might put a damper on making love was soon dispelled when Erika practically tore his clothes off and attacked him with such passion that he couldn’t help responding in a similar manner.
For a short time, he forgot about everything except their bodies meshing together, lips and hands discovering each other in ways that seemed new and intoxicating, and he relished every moment of it.
Afterward, sweaty and spent, they stayed under the thick blankets and finished their wine. Jason tried to keep the after-sex conversation light, but all too soon reality swam back into their thoughts like a shark rising from deep waters, the twin remoras of fear and dep
ression tagging along beneath it, and the spaces between their sentences grew longer and less comfortable.
He was glad when drowsiness finally overtook Erika and she drifted off before the inevitable topic of being trapped forever in the past came up. That was a discussion he didn’t want to have until absolutely necessary. He’d thought his worries would keep him awake, but the gentle sound of Erika’s snoring, combined with the wine, food and sex, lulled him toward dreamland, and after a few minutes he gave in and lay back on his pillow, closing his eyes and saying a final prayer for a nightmare-free sleep.
Jason was dreaming of drinking a cold beer while watching football on the big-screen TV in his family room when a horrible scream shattered his slumber. He sat up, tossing the covers to the side, and turned to make sure Erika was still next to him. She was, backed up against the headboard, her eyes wide and the sheets clutched to her chest.
“What was that?” she asked in a shaky voice.
“I don’t know.” Jason’s heart was racing, his body practically trembling from the adrenaline rushing through his system. “But it sounded like—”
Another scream, this one louder and even more horrible, which Jason wouldn’t have believed possible. But as the terrified cry faded away, he recognized it as a man’s voice.
“It’s Charles!” Jason jumped out of bed and grabbed his pants. When Erika joined him, he tried to stop her.
“Wait here. We don’t know what’s going on out there. It might be dangerous.”
She shook her head. “No way. We stay together.”
He thought about arguing, but then realized it made more sense not to separate. “Fine. But let me go first.”
He opened the door and peered out into the hall while Erika pulled her clothes on. Frigid air raised goose bumps on his arms and chest, and the floor felt like winter ice under his feet. Widely spaced sconces provided just enough light to see by, while at the same time filling the hall with shadowy apparitions that distracted the eye with their dancing movements. The corridor appeared empty in both directions, but Burns’s door stood open.
“C’mon,” he whispered, motioning to Erika. He took two steps and then recoiled as his bare foot landed in something wet and slimy. Looking down, he saw a series of damp marks on the bare wood, leading to the open door.
“What is it?” Erika asked.
“Someone went into Burns’s room and left again. Someone with wet shoes.”
“Is he still inside?”
Stepping around the watery tracks, Jason peered into Burns’s room. The bed looked slightly disheveled, the result of Burns napping on top of the covers, but nothing seemed out of place. The plate of food they’d left for him sat untouched on the nightstand. A single blanket lay crumpled at the foot of the bed.
“I don’t see him, and there’s no sign of a struggle. Maybe he went outside again, and those are his tracks.”
“Or maybe they’re Lilly’s. Maybe she came back and woke him up.”
Jason shrugged but didn’t say anything. Neither of their suggestions struck him as being right. The shout they’d heard had been one of terror, not joy. Certainly not the type of cry you’d expect from someone if a missing lover returned to them. And if Burns had been alone, why would he cry out at all?
“You are both wrong.”
Erika gasped and Jason jumped a little, even as he belatedly recognized Maria’s voice. He turned and found the diminutive maid standing behind them.
“We heard a scream,” he said, his heart banging like he’d just run a marathon.
“The spirits of the dead roam this house again.” Maria’s face was as grim as her tone.
Jason frowned. “Don’t give me that bullshit. It was Charles who shouted, not some damn ghost. I heard him.”
Maria shook her head. “Mister Burns it was, but ’tis him no more. Heed my advice. Lock yourselves in your room tonight if you want to see morning. Open your door for no one, no matter what sounds you hear or who might speak to you.” She glanced at the wet footprints, crossed herself and hurried down the stairs.
Jason went to follow, but Erika grabbed his arm with a clammy hand. “No, let’s do what she says.”
“What? You don’t believe those boogeyman tales, do you?”
“I believe this place creeps me out and I don’t want to wander around in the dark. I believe there’s two people missing now. And I believe something’s going on, something that has Maria scared to death. Let’s just stay in our room, like she said.”
Jason was ready to argue, but the look in her eyes stopped him. The girl he loved was frightened out of her mind, and he was thinking about leaving her to chase after somebody he didn’t even know, just to prove there were no ghosts in the castle? Why did he even care about any of that? Erika was the only thing that was important.
So he nodded, took her hand and led the way back to their room. “Okay,” he said, as he shut the door. “We are in for the night.”
“Thank you.”
Once back in bed, and with Jason gently rubbing her neck, Erika drifted off again within a few minutes. For Jason, however, sleep remained elusive. He lay on his back, listening for any sounds coming from outside their room. The wooden groans and mutterings of the house combined with the sounds of the storm and the ink-black room to create an atmosphere well suited for tales of vengeful spirits and haunted castles. He’d always believed in spirits and ghosts about as much as he believed in Santa or the Easter Bunny, but he couldn’t deny something strange was going on. Not in a castle where the maid prowled the corridors like a phantom, the master of the house was half-crazy with grief, and two people had disappeared in little more than twenty-four hours.
Oh, and don’t forget traveling more than a hundred years back in time, his subconscious reminded him. That should certainly make you more open to the fact that there might be supernatural events going on in the castle.
The storm continued to pound the ancient stone walls, showing no signs of letting up. Eventually, the sounds acted like white noise and lulled him into something approaching sleep. Except, each time he found his way toward slumber, the splintering crack of a breaking branch, loud and sharp as a gun’s report, would shatter the quiet, or an extraloud peal of thunder would detonate outside the windows, rousing him to full wakefulness again.
It was right after another explosion of lightning and thunder that Erika began talking in her sleep. Jason immediately sat up, curious—and more than a little nervous, thanks to her last episode—to hear what she was saying.
“Of course, my love. I understand. The children need a mother… Oh yes, Johann, of course I will. I will be there soon.”
She’s dreaming about the professor again. And imagining herself as his wife. Jason shook her shoulder, afraid her dream might turn into another nightmare. Instead of waking, she rose from the bed and headed for the door, just as she’d done the previous night. He leaned forward and grabbed the hem of her nightgown, but she pulled out of his grasp.
“Erika, stop!” Everything he’d read about sleepwalking said not to disturb the person. But he’d be damned if he’d let her wander around a freezing-cold castle.
Oblivious to his cry, she opened the door and went into the dimly lit hallway.
“Shit!” Pausing just long enough to pull on his jeans, Jason hurried after her. A vile stench filled the corridor, dead, decayed fish and seaweed mixed together. As he ran past Burns’s still-open door, movement in the darkness registered in his peripheral vision, but it was too late to stop or turn.
Something hard struck his head, and his world went black.
A bright light stabbed at Jason’s eyes when he tried to open them. Groaning, he covered his face with his arm and tried to see past the glare. Faces hovered in the darkness, illuminated in ghostly fashion by the reflection of the light off his arms and the water.
Water? How… I was in the hallway…
“Jason?” One of the pale faces dipped closer.
Erika! He reached a han
d up to her.
“Oh thank God! For a second, I thought you were dead.” She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed, cutting off his air but he didn’t mind. At least she was awake and not…
“Wait.” He pushed himself up to a sitting position. The light moved away, revealing itself as a flashlight held by a man dressed in jeans and a sleeveless T-shirt, which was stretched to its limits over his broad chest and shoulders. A jagged scar down one side of his face twisted his mouth into a permanent scowl.
“I was chasing you down the hall. In the castle. And then something hit my head. Where are we?”
Erika frowned, but before she could answer, a new voice spoke up, this one deep and masculine and filled with a dark humor completely inappropriate to the situation.
“Well, you certainly did hit your head, Mr. Phillips. You’ve got the lump to prove it. But you were nowhere near either of our two castles. You’re in the Tunnel of Love, remember?”
Jason turned and his breath caught in his lungs at the sight of the gaunt, oddly dressed man standing to his right. Easily seven feet tall, he was so thin his fingers looked like skeleton hands and his face like a skull. Moon-white skin added to the corpse-like appearance. His outfit was just as peculiar—an orange topcoat, yellow pants and a red shirt with a green tie. Topping everything was a stovepipe hat perched on a bald head, a bright orange sunflower tucked into the band above the brim.
At any other time, the man would’ve drawn a smile, or perhaps even laughter.
But something in his eyes froze Jason’s guts worse than eating a pound of ice, and made him think of dead bodies hacked to pieces and stored in a refrigerator to be eaten later.
Evil. He’s evil and wants to kill us!
The man smiled and winked, and the feeling of impending death disappeared. The impression of evil, however, did not.
“I am terribly sorry,” the man said, sounding anything but. “We’ve never had an accident in the Tunnel of Love before. Years, decades…” Hairless eyebrows furrowed. “You did have your safety belt on, didn’t you?”
