by Rita Vetere
She dragged herself downstairs to retrieve the travel luggage from the closet, driven by a sense of urgency. At the bottom of the stairs, she spied a cream envelope on the front hall stand and walked over. Her name was scrawled across the envelope in Alberto’s handwriting. With trembling hands, she lifted the flap and removed the note to read what he had written. There was no salutation, only:
I have decided to take up residence on the island in order to work undisturbed. What you fail to understand, in your usual self-centered manner, is that my work is of paramount importance. My work is everything. I can no longer tolerate the distractions in this unruly household. You and the children will need to fend for yourselves until I see fit to return, if ever.
Alberto
Serafina stared at the note incredulously. She could only conclude her husband had indeed lost his mind.
At the same time, relief washed over her. Alberto had been carrying a valise. He would not be returning tonight, and probably not anytime soon, judging from the words he had written. She had no money of her own and no idea where she could go with the children. Alberto’s leaving would give her an opportunity to correspond with her sister in Genoa. Possibly, she and the children could live with her sister’s family for a while, at least until she had a better idea of how she might be able to support herself and her children. Her marriage, she knew, was irrevocably over. Whatever shred of emotion she may have once harbored for Alberto had withered and died last night.
She returned upstairs and cleaned herself up as best she could. After checking on the children, she left them sleeping upstairs to walk down the street to Sophia’s house. It would be humiliating to have her friend see her like this, but Sophia’s husband was a locksmith. Sophia, she felt sure, would be able to convince him to change the locks on her doors as a favor to her, no questions asked. Just in case. If Alberto decided to return, she had to make sure there would be no repetition of what had happened last night.
Chapter 18
Poveglia Island
Present Day
Anna turned south past the grove of poplar trees and ran headlong into Alejandro.
“What happened? What’s wrong?”
“I found something,” she said in a shaky voice. “You’d better come have a look.”
She led the way back to the spot where she had discovered the skull and pointed it out to him.
A look of surprise crossed his features when he saw it. “Jesus Christ. Where—”
“I found it sticking out of the ground over there.”
Alejandro’s face turned grim as he moved to the small excavation. He bent and brushed away more of the earth with his hands.
A few minutes later he uncovered another bone, part of the skeletal remains of whoever had been buried there.
“This doesn’t look recent,” he said. “These bones have been here a long time.”
They looked at each other. When no answers fell out of the sky, Anna said, “What do we do?”
“We’ll have to contact the police and advise Falcone as soon as we get back to the mainland. The fact we’ve uncovered human remains is a matter for the authorities,” he said.
“Damn that driver,” Anna muttered. If he had stayed with them, they could have gone back to the mainland now. As it was... Her eyes remained glued to the skull, the empty eye sockets staring back at her accusingly, as if demanding to know why she had torn it from its resting place.
“Let’s get away from this thing. We can discuss what to do in the trailer,” he said, taking her by the arm and leading her away.
As they made their way back, a dark mass of storm clouds moved in their direction, suffocating the day’s light. Or maybe the sky just looked ominous because of what she had uncovered. She extracted a cigarette from the pack she’d slipped into her jeans pocket that morning, but her hand shook so badly she couldn’t get the cigarette lit. Alejandro took the lighter from her trembling hand to assist.
“Didn’t know you smoked.” He returned the lighter to her.
She tucked the lighter back in her pocket. “Only after digging up skeletons.”
He smiled at her weak attempt at humor, but it was not a lively smile.
Something occurred to her. “Do you think... Do you think what we found might have something to do with...”
Alejandro studied her. “The apparition you saw?”
She nodded.
“I doubt it. I’m no expert, but the bones looked too large to belong to a child.”
They arrived at the trailer. Inside, Alejandro searched around in the cabinet over the small fridge and retrieved the bottle of cognac he’d discovered the previous day. He grabbed a couple of plastic cups from the shelf and poured a dollop of the amber liquid into each. “Here.” He handed one to her. “Drink this. I think we could both use it.”
She took a swallow and allowed its warmth to spread through her.
“I don’t like this place,” she blurted. “There’s something wrong with this island. I can feel it.”
At that exact moment, her grandmother’s warning popped into her head. Jesus. Had she known something about the island? She had put her grandmother’s remarks down to her concern Anna wouldn’t be around to visit. Maybe if she had spent more time trying to find out the reason for her grandmother’s reaction, she might have learned something. Damn it. Anna yanked her phone from her purse, just in case. It was still dead.
Alejandro sat next to her on the couch and put an arm around her shoulder. “I promise you, this will all be straightened out. The police will investigate. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“I wish we could leave now,” she said miserably.
He looked pensive for a moment. Then he said, “I’m going to walk over to the landing. Yesterday the carabinieri were patrolling the waters nearby. If they’re doing the same today, I might be able to get their attention and flag them down. If I’m able to, then we can report what we found to them and go back to the mainland on the police boat.”
Thank God one of them was thinking clearly. “Good idea... I’ll come with you,” she said. The sense that they should leave the island seemed suddenly overwhelming.
“No, you’re still shaking. Why don’t you stay here and try to relax for a few minutes? If they’re nearby and I manage to get their attention, I’ll come right back for you. I won’t be long. Ten, fifteen minutes tops.”
Anna glanced nervously at her watch. It was just going on eleven o’clock.
“All right. But hurry back,” she added, giving him a small smile.
He looked at her for a moment, then without warning, he leaned toward her. She didn’t draw back, and they joined in a warm kiss that deepened before he pulled away. She felt safe with him and some of her tension melted.
“I won’t be long. We’ll be back on the mainland before you know it, and all this will be behind us.”
After he left, Anna watched him from the trailer window until he disappeared onto the path leading to the landing. She gathered their things and sat down to wait, telling herself Alejandro would manage to flag down the vessel and return with the police in tow.
When twenty minutes passed and still Alejandro did not appear, apprehension crawled back in. She lit another cigarette and waited ten more minutes. Finally, nervousness drove her outside to go in search of him. Maybe he was having trouble getting the attention of the police vessel. She followed the path to the landing, not liking the look of the bruised sky overhead.
Alejandro was nowhere in sight when she arrived at the dock. She called out to him, but only the deafening silence of the island responded.
The wind picked up. She scanned the dull water, and spotted a speck in the distance that might have been a boat, but it was too far away to tell. Even so, she yelled at the top of her lungs and jumped up and down, waving her arms. A second later, the speck disappeared.
Small whitecaps had formed on the water, and she didn’t spot any other boats. Looking around again, she called out for Al
ejandro in a loud voice. Why didn’t he answer? He should have heard her, if he was anywhere nearby. Could he possibly have gone back to examine the bones they’d uncovered? She turned around and set off at a trot for the north shore, calling for him as she went. In passing, she peeked inside the trailer, but he had not returned, and she continued on her way.
Moments later, she arrived at the small excavation and came to a standstill, blinking in surprise. She did not see Alejandro, but...
She stared at the ground in disbelief. The skull. It was no longer there. Had Alejandro taken it with him? Why?
The forest loomed next to her, unnaturally silent and shadowy. She called out again.
Where had he gone? Why didn’t he answer?
Anna took off at a run, turning south to travel down the east side of the island. She called out as she went, scanning the field on her right for him. Nothing. She came full circle and arrived back at the trailer.
When she yanked the trailer door open to find he still had not returned, a premonitory sense that something had happened to him hit her hard. It’s this place, she told herself. Her insides clenched with worry. She knew Alejandro would have answered if he heard her calling. Where could he be? She turned and focused her attention on the old hospital complex. Maybe he’d gotten curious, like she had yesterday, and had decided to explore one of the unlocked buildings. Anna hoped like hell that was the case, even though her gut screamed at her that something else entirely had happened, something not good.
She headed for the building nearest the trailer, the office she had entered the day before, worried sick now. The door creaked loudly on its hinges when she opened it. Anna slipped inside, leaving the door open behind her. The empty room looked exactly as it had the day before. Nothing appeared to have been disturbed. She walked the length of the room and opened a door leading into a bathroom of sorts, with an old cast iron tub. Also empty. She turned and went back outside.
The first inkling of real fear entered her as she hurried back to the path to check the landing again. As she ran past the crematorium, she thought she spied movement through the open doors and stopped. “Alejandro. Are you…”
Her words dwindled as she stood in the open doorway, her heavy breathing the only sound breaking the silence. She could have sworn she’d seen something moving among the shadows inside the windowless building. The round doors of the incinerators stood open, the cavities staring at her like bottomless eyes. “Alejandro?”
She stepped inside. There. Something moved again in the dark corner of the room. Anna took another step, her pulse pounding in her throat, not knowing what to expect. When her eyes adjusted to the dim light inside, she scanned the dark corner again, but saw nothing.
The daylight coming from the open doors behind her suddenly dimmed and Anna whirled around, just in time to hear the snick of the latch falling into place across the doors as they closed, leaving her in total darkness. Crying out in surprise, she fumbled around the pitch-black room in the direction of the doorway, and banged her hip on something hard and metallic—the open door of the incinerator. She jammed her hand in her pocket to retrieve her lighter. Staying within the tiny arc of light made by the open flame, she walked over to the doors. The wooden latch had somehow slipped from its mount and fallen, pulling the doors shut. With her free hand, she tried to lift the latch back up. The flame flickered as she struggled with the heavy bar. The lighter slipped from her hand and clattered to the stone floor, leaving her in darkness again. Shit! She got on her hands and knees, feeling around on the floor for the lighter, and located it a few seconds later. As she flicked it, a scraping noise sounded behind her and she turned.
From the open cylinder of the incinerator, a hand shot out. By the light of the trembling flame, she could see the raised purple veins covering it. Ragged black fingernails scraped against the metal as whatever was on the other end tried to claw its way out. Anna screamed and dropped the lighter again. Oh God... Oh God, please. Panic bit into her as she frantically felt around the floor for the lighter. The scraping of nails across metal sounded behind her again, followed by a slithering, dragging sound. Her frenzied hands couldn’t locate the damned lighter. Whatever was in the room with her would reach her in a minute and—
Her fingers brushed against the lighter and she grabbed it, flicking it on, terrified that the thing had clawed its way out and would be at her side. But the incinerator door hung open, the cylinder empty. She could see nothing in her immediate vicinity. Without wasting a second, Anna whirled and lifted the heavy bar securing the doors. She tumbled outside and slammed the doors shut behind her; heard the latch click back into place. Shaking all over, her heart pounding painfully, she backed away from the doors. What had just happened in there? Something had tried to crawl out of the incinerator. Something not alive, her mind insisted.
Anna turned and ran. She had to locate Alejandro and find a way to get off this damned island. Overhead, the bank of low black clouds, harbingers of the coming storm, raced behind her in pursuit.
Chapter 19
Poveglia Island
1927
Rossi studied his reflection in the mirror above the commode in his office lavatory, barely recognizing the haggard face peering back at him. His appearance had changed drastically since moving onto the island a month ago. No longer meticulous about the way he looked, he had allowed his hair to grow into a scraggly mess and puffy dark smudges sat beneath his bloodshot eyes. He hadn’t slept in weeks, except when passed out from drink. He’d lost weight as well. His clothes hung from his thin frame like a scarecrow’s.
As had been the case each morning for the past month, he’d awoken to a pounding headache, hung over from the large amounts of alcohol he now consumed daily. Drinking seemed to be the only way he could tolerate the sight of the walking dead who now stalked him openly, giving him no peace. Only here, in his office, with the drapes closed and the door locked, did he feel any measure of safety. So far, they had not entered his sanctuary.
In the time since he’d left home to take up residence on the island, he’d not spared a thought for his troublemaking wife and children. They could rot for all he cared. All the years he had provided for them, taking care of their every need, and what had they given him in return? Only aggravation and grief. He refused to allow them to distract him from his work.
He rubbed at the stubbly beard covering his face and reminded himself to shave. Although he’d gotten rid of Fenelli weeks ago, some of the staff had begun to look at him strangely of late, casting sideways glances when they thought he wasn’t looking. He’d heard them whispering behind his back as well, especially after all three of the quarantined patients had unexpectedly died following his “examinations”. Rossi had disposed of the bodies, after removing the brains, in the same manner he had disposed of Carbone—in the dead of night in the crematorium. Although he knew the hospital employees were becoming suspicious, none had dared question him.
Let them think what they wanted. No one could prove the patients had died by his hand, and the families of all three men had taken his word for it that their relatives had died of natural causes.
He would have to cut back on the drinking, though. He’d been hitting the bottle too hard, especially after his examination of the brains of his last three victims revealed no abnormalities. Just like Carbone. Desperate, afraid he would not be able to find the cause and subsequent cure for the disease before he succumbed to madness, he’d spent most of the past few weeks drinking himself into a stupor.
Then, during the night, good news had arrived. One of the patients—the woman, Rosaria, his wife’s acquaintance—had become hysterical, striking out at the attendant who tried to stop her from escaping from the hospital. She had been ranting, the attendant said, shouting at him to let her go, that she needed to get off the island. The spirits, she told him, wanted to kill her.
Rossi lathered his face and picked up the straight-razor sitting next to the basin of water. He slid the blade along his
cheek in a neat, upward motion, leaving a smooth swath of skin in its wake. His hand did not shake.
The brain of the woman, Rosaria, would surely provide the answer he so desperately required. It had to.
* * * *
In the quarantine building, Rosaria strained against the leather bindings at her wrists and ankles as she glanced wildly around at the other beds. All were unoccupied except for the one upon which she was lying.
“Let me out of here!” she yelled, even though she knew her call for help would go unanswered. She’d screamed all night after they had moved her from the ward into segregation. The last three patients transferred to quarantine had not returned to the wards and they were certainly not here. Frightened, she wondered what had become of them, but in her heart, she already knew. Her instinct told her they were dead.
Three times over the past month she had awoken to a foul stench which could only mean the crematorium was in use. The fact that bodies were being disposed of in the middle of the night had made her suspicious. Now that she knew the three patients were not here where they were supposed to be, she assumed them to be dead. There were no other patient facilities aside from the wards and the quarantine building. Whatever their fate, she knew Rossi was responsible. Oh, how she hated the man for imprisoning her here on this evil island.
She cursed Massimo too, blaming him for insisting she come to this miserable place, but she wasted little time thinking about her husband. She had to find a way to escape from the island and the abominations inhabiting it.
Rosaria tried not to think about the atrocity she had seen last night, the evil entity disguised as a child—a disease-ridden corpse of a girl with filthy, dirt-encrusted hair and a half-eaten face. The dreadful remembrance prompted her to struggle harder against the leather straps binding her. When she had seen the malice radiating from those black filmy eyes—when it had touched her, grabbing her arm with a grip of steel—Rosaria had screamed and screamed, unable to stop herself. She’d almost managed to escape from the building before the attendant arrived to stop her. Shortly afterward, she’d been brought here.
