The Other Side: A Novel in the Alastair Stone Chronicles

by R. L. King

  A chill gripped Stone. “How many died? Any in the house?”

  Huff sobered. “They haven’t found everybody yet, but if they were in that house, they’re gone. Larry’s still missing, the Yateses, José from the crew…and…I’m sorry, Doc, but they haven’t found Dr. Mortenson yet.”

  Stone bowed his head. “They’re all dead. I don’t know about José, but the rest…”

  “How do you know that?” Huff leaned closer, eyes wide. “Did you find them?”

  “The Yateses were dead when I entered the house.” Suddenly, Stone felt very tired again. “They’d killed each other.”

  “Shit…” Huff breathed. “And Larry and the Doc?”

  “They’re…in a mine shaft up on the hill above the Shangri-La.”

  “Not much left of that place either,” Huff said. “There was a fire. The whole inside’s gutted.”

  Stone nodded. “I know.”

  Huff shot him a suspicious look, as if wondering how he knew so much about what was going on, but didn’t comment. “What were Larry and Dr. Mortenson doing in a mine shaft?”

  “It’s…hard to explain. What about the others? Any other deaths? Did anyone else kill each other?”

  Before he could answer, the door opened and Celina Wanderley came in. She looked as tired as Huff did, and threw herself down on the couch next to him. The makeup woman had disappeared, presumably to look after other injured charges.

  “Hi, Dr. Stone,” Celina said. “Glad to see you’re feeling better.” She turned to Huff. “Nick’s better, but he’ll need real medical attention, not the just the first aid we can do here. Any word on how long before they get the road cleared?”

  Stone stared at them. “The authorities aren’t here yet?”

  “Not a chance,” Huff said. “It’s only been a few hours. We have no way to contact them. The cell phones don’t get reception up here, and the regular phones are dead. Rita drove down the hill a little while ago to see if they’re working on the rockslide yet, but I don’t think she’ll be back for a while.”

  “How’s Riley doing?”

  “His leg’s broken, and he’s banged up, but otherwise okay,” Huff told him. “He’s at one of the other houses. Sorry you’re on the floor, but there aren’t many places around to put people—the two big ones are gone.”

  “Tell me the rest,” Stone said. “I’ll try to fill in what I know.”

  Celina fixed him with an odd look. “You know a lot about what’s happened, don’t you, Dr. Stone?”

  “Tell me what you know,” he repeated.

  “Everybody went nuts last night,” Huff said. “It was crazy. We were doing the shoot—Larry was pissed because you didn’t show up, yelling at everybody…it was worse than the afternoon. We took a break, Nick started coming on to Bryce, and Bryce and Kelly both attacked him. Rita went after Larry, screaming about how much she’s always hated him, but he got away and ran off, yelling something about you stealing his gold. What the hell was that about?” he added. “What gold?”

  “Later,” Stone said, waving him off. “I heard this bit already. Who’s unaccounted for?”

  Celina pulled a notebook from her pocket. “About forty-five people were in the town, counting the crew and the townspeople. Out of those, four are known dead, twenty more are unaccounted for, and twenty-one have been located. Several are injured in some way.”

  “The doc said the Yateses, Larry, and Doc Mortenson are all dead,” Huff said.

  Celina adjusted her list.

  “Also Bill Mott,” Stone said. “In the fire in the Shangri-La. We couldn’t get him out in time.”

  Once again, Celina made a note. “That makes nine known dead. Dear God…” she breathed. She looked up at him. “Something happened last night. Something…supernatural. Didn’t it?”

  Stone got up wearily, testing his balance. “Yes. Did you feel it?”

  “That’s why I’m not hurt,” she said. “I believed what you said. When people started going crazy, I…” She ducked her gaze. “I hid. I couldn’t do anything about it, so I hid. Like a coward.”

  “It’s not cowardice to keep yourself alive,” Stone said gently. “Especially if there’s nothing you could have done. I’m glad you were wise enough to do it.”

  Huff was looking troubled too. “Wish I’d been smart enough to do it. My memory’s bad—the details are all kind of fuzzy, but…Doc…I think I might have been responsible for the explosion at the Brunder place.”

  “How so?”

  “I was with Kelly…we were looking for Duncan, or Bryce. Wanted to kick their asses. I was so pissed…I just wanted to kill both of them. Larry was a prick, and Bryce was a conceited asshole prima donna, y’know? We went into the house with torches…” He shuddered.

  Ah, so Huff and Kelly Petrucci were the flame-tossers. No point in blaming them, though—they certainly had no idea what they were doing any more than any of the rest of the curse’s victims did. “It’s all right,” he said. “Believe me—no one was responsible for their actions last night.”

  “What happened, Dr. Stone?” Celina asked. “Was it the curse? Was it real?”

  “It was. But it’s over now. The Brunderville curse won’t be affecting anyone ever again.”

  “Doesn’t really matter, does it?” Huff asked, staring down at his hands in his lap. “Nobody’s ever gonna build here again. Not in our lifetimes, anyway.”

  He was probably right about that. “I need to get out of here,” Stone said. “Walk around a bit. Do you happen to have a shirt I could borrow?”

  Huff left for a moment and came back with a green T-shirt and a gray hooded sweatshirt. “I think the guy who lived here’s dead,” he said with a sigh. “He won’t miss ’em.”

  Stone took a look at the T-shirt. It featured an image of the Shangri-La Winery surrounded by trees. Come to Brunderville and Make Your Dreams Come True! it read.

  With a sigh, he pulled it on, and the sweatshirt over it. “Back in a bit,” he said. “Then you can put me to work.”

  “Doc?” Huff called as he headed out.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry about Dr. Mortenson.”

  “Yes…” Stone said without turning back. “So am I.”

  The day passed in a flurry of activity. Stone spent a couple hours walking around the area, searching for survivors with magical sight and trying to keep his troubled thoughts at bay. He found one man with a broken ankle and a deep slash wound in his leg—he’d been attacked by his best friend, who he’d been forced to kill in self-defense, and then managed to bandage the wound sufficiently to keep from dying. Too much time had passed for magical healing to work, so Stone helped him hobble back to town and left him in the care of the makeup woman who, along with one of the town men with some EMT training, had taken over the first-aid services.

  After that, he went to the Brunder place, just to get a look at it in daylight. The rain had stopped now, and the angry gray clouds had even parted sufficiently to let the sun peek through a little, but that didn’t do anything to mitigate the grimness of the pile of rubble and charred kindling that had, for over a hundred years, been a strong and sturdy mansion. He picked his way through debris around the blast radius, not even sure what he was looking for—or if he was looking for anything. Now that the crisis—or at least the part of it he could do anything about—was over, all he felt was a bone-deep weariness of both body and psyche. Even his grief at the loss of Mortenson and the others felt dulled, as if someone else were feeling it. Once again, he wondered if he could get his hands on a drink.

  Or two.

  Or several.

  Finally, he went back to the house where he’d awakened and offered his services, but the makeup woman (whose name, he finally found out, was Gina) took one look at him and ordered him
to the sofa.

  He tried to protest that he could help, but she was having none of it.

  He slept for the rest of the afternoon.

  They gathered in the schoolhouse later that evening, everyone who was well enough to move or be moved. It didn’t make for the best accommodations, but it was the largest building left in town, so they didn’t have many choices. Gina volunteered to remain with Nick and a couple of the other more seriously injured townspeople, who’d all been moved into the same house for ease of care.

  By the time Stone arrived, most of the rest of them were already there. They’d brought in a mismatched collection of chairs and tables, and spread out a cold buffet of most of the remaining food, along with several bottles of wine rescued from the Shangri-La’s cave (the only part of the place the fire hadn’t gutted) and liquor donations from the surviving townspeople.

  “Hey, Stone!” called a voice from the other side of the room.

  Bryce Riley, his broken leg splinted with a series of sturdy wooden dowels and a lot of gauze, sat in a place of honor in the back corner of the room, a plate of food in his lap and a glass of wine in his hand. He looked considerably more cheerful than he had the previous night, though his expression was far more subdued than Stone had ever seen it.

  Stone nodded to a few of the others and crossed the room to him, pausing to pick up a healthy shot of whiskey on the way. Wine wouldn’t do it for him tonight. “Riley. Good to see you looking better.”

  “Thanks to you, man. I don’t know how you did it, but you got me outta there before that place blew. I owe you big for that.” He nodded toward a chair. “Take a load off. Get good and wasted. That’s what I’m doing.”

  Rita had reported back a while ago, saying she’d seen signs of lights on the road below, indicating that the crews were working on the slide. She’d been able to get minimal service on her cell phone, at least enough to let the authorities know they were up there and needed help as soon as possible. The crew chief promised to work through the night and predicted they’d reach Brunderville by early the next morning. Unfortunately, there was no viable place to land a helicopter anywhere near the town—especially since the rain been intermittently falling all day—so they’d have to make do until then. That had been when Celina got the idea for everyone to have a last gathering together.

  Cody Huff, who’d taken over logistics when nobody else had stepped up to do it, stood and walked up near the front of the room. “Hey, if I could have everybody’s attention for a minute, please?”

  Stone settled into his chair and waited, sipping his whiskey.

  When everyone had quieted, Huff said, “For those of you who haven’t met me yet, I’m Cody Huff, from the Other Side group. If you’ve seen the show, I’m the guy who wanders off on his own and gets into trouble when things start getting weird. And I gotta tell you—things got weird last night. Really weird. And I think most of us got into a little trouble.” He glanced at Stone.

  That was an understatement, but Stone merely raised his glass.

  “I don’t know exactly what happened. I don’t think any of us do.” He glanced at Stone again, but looked away quicker this time. “Some people are saying it was the Brunderville curse. Some people are saying some kind of weird gas came up out of one of the mines and made us all crazy. Some are saying we just got on each other’s last nerve from being cooped up in the rain with the power out. I don’t have any answers, and I don’t think the rest of you do either.”

  All around Stone, people mumbled and muttered in quiet conversation. He took a quick look at Riley, who was staring straight ahead. The Other Side star looked troubled, but made no move to contradict Huff’s words.

  “Whatever happened, though,” Huff continued, “we all lost some friends last night. Good people, who just ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time. Those losses are gonna be felt for a long time. I’m sure all of them will have their own memorials going forward, but I think we should acknowledge them now, and maybe say a little prayer, have a moment of silence, whatever you feel personally would be a good way to do it. Okay?”

  A general sound of agreement rippled through the group.

  “Okay,” Huff said. He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and began to read names.

  Stone listened in silence along with the rest. They must have been busy when he’d been asleep, because another few names he didn’t recognize had been added to the list of the dead Celina had been keeping this morning. He remained quiet as the unfamiliar names were read, each one along with a few words describing his or her association with the town or the crew.

  “—Bill Mott, a local handyman and good friend to everyone in town. Randy and Mary Yates, who were going to run the Brunderville bed and breakfast at the mansion. José Estevez, The Other Side crew assistant. Dr. Edwina Mortenson, one of our Stanford consultants. And Larry Duncan, The Other Side producer.” Huff finished the list and put it back in his pocket. “Let’s have a moment of reflection for all of them, shall we?”

  The room grew utterly silent except for a few foot-scuffles or muffled coughs. Stone thought mostly about Mortenson, his throat tightening as he remembered the way her eyes had shone like a child’s at the simple magical lightshow he’d created to ease her passing. Why hadn’t he ever told her? Of all the mundanes he knew, she’d probably have been the most accepting of it.

  But he hadn’t, and now it was too late. Now her body lay at the bottom of a collapsing mine, and they might not ever be able to even recover it for a proper burial.

  “Stone? You okay?”

  Stone jolted back to awareness to realize the moment had passed and the others had all gone back to their soft conversations. Riley was looking at him with concern. “Sorry,” he said. “Just…thinking.”

  “Yeah,” Riley agreed. “Got a lot of that to do myself.”

  Stone stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go top up my drink.”

  Riley raised his own glass in salute, and Stone drifted back across the room toward the makeshift bar. Apparently they liked their booze in Brunderville, because even though the fire had destroyed the real bar at the Shangri-La, numerous bottles of hard liquor nearly outnumbered those of wine. Most of them were far from full. Stone poured another glass of whiskey and lingered there for a moment, thinking.

  “Dr. Stone…” The voice behind him was tentative and female.

  He turned to see Denise standing behind him. It was the first time he’d seen her today, though he hadn’t had time to wonder where she was—or if she was deliberately avoiding him. She looked a lot better put together than most of the other townspeople, dressed in jeans, a blue sweater, and the black, high-top Chuck Taylors she’d offered to Mortenson the previous night. She’d pulled her long blonde hair back into a ponytail. Her expression was guarded, and she didn’t quite meet his gaze. “Ah. Hello, Denise. You’re looking well tonight.”

  She nodded, still without looking at him. “Thanks. You too.”

  They stood there, both of them uncomfortable, for a few more moments. “Could I…talk to you for a minute?” she asked. “In private?”

  He raised a questioning eyebrow. “Er—of course. Let’s go outside. I think the rain’s let up for a bit.”

  They stepped out onto the deck surrounding the schoolhouse, and Denise set her half-full glass of wine on the railing. “I—I heard about your friend. I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Did you…find what you were looking for?”

  “We did, yes.”

  “Good. I’m glad.”

  Again, an awkward silence settled over them. Stone took another swallow of whiskey and looked out over the town. With only the moonlight to illuminate it, Brunderville and its scattered remaining buildings looked normal, with no indication of the fire-ravaged winery or the detonated remains
of the Brunder mansion. “Denise—” he began at last.

  “Dr. Stone—” she said at the same time.

  “You first,” he said, turning around to lean against the railing and face her.

  She looked away. “I just wanted to say…I don’t know what happened last night. I’m…I’m not like that. I’m so embarrassed…”

  “Denise,” he said softly. “Please, please don’t be embarrassed. Nothing that happened yesterday was your fault. I promise.”

  “But, I—” She reached out to indicate his chest, without touching him. “I hurt you.”

  “Think nothing of it. Quite a lot of things happened last night, and I think the best that can be done is to treat them as a sort of nightmare. Something we did, but couldn’t stop ourselves.” He chuckled, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “Sort of like those dreams where you turn up to sit an exam and realize you’ve not attended any of the classes.”

  “Or when you go to school naked,” she said, mirroring his mirthless chuckle. She turned then, and looked into his eyes. “But…you could have…done so much. And…you didn’t.”

  “Of course I didn’t.” He set his glass down and gripped the railing. “I knew you weren’t in your right mind last night. What kind of man would I be if I knew that and still took advantage of you?”

  “I don’t think most men—would have stopped.” She sipped her wine and stared into the glass. “You saved me from Bill…I didn’t even know he wanted me. He was always so kind…and even after what he did…that was such a horrible way to die…”

  Stone sighed. “It wasn’t his fault either. That’s one of the most unfortunate things about this whole mess. It can’t be blamed on anyone. Not anyone who’s been alive for a long time, anyway. But I promise you—as far as anything you did last night, it’s already forgotten.”