Haunted Lancashire (The Haunting Of Books 1-3)

by Jack Lewis

  But then a shape loomed in the distance. A giant, darkened silhouette that became clearer the more they walked, until soon, there it was.

  “Well, shit on that,” said Altair.

  A curse from him was enough to draw wide-eyed surprise from Mag, and a grin from Jay.

  For Loe, there was nothing but tension in her chest, and the beginnings of a throb in her temple.

  Harrow Hall was in front of them, welcoming them back once again.

  *

  The searched for the old well in the eastern part of the forest. Then the felled tree in the west. Every time they set out, no matter which direction they went, they always ended up back at Harrow Hall. It was forever greeting them on their return, gloating at their defeat. To Loe, with a mind just as exhausted as her body, the windows on its time-worn face made it look like the old house was sneering at her.

  If there was one good thing that came from hours of hiking, it was a tiredness so complete that even Clive didn’t have the energy to stir from his mind pit. Glancing at her siblings’ faces, she guessed they were all as equally beat as they trudged into the hall.

  Jay headed straight for his treasure trove, which was a cabinet stocked shelf to shelf with Stanway’s liquor. Mag went to the study. “I’m going to catch a few Z’s and beat the hell out of them,” she announced, and didn’t wait for a reply.

  This left Loe and Altair alone. He took off his boots and began rubbing his feet. As Loe watched him, possibly for long enough to make the whole thing seem awkward, something occurred to her.

  “Those are hiking boots.”

  “You didn’t tell me you were a genius,” said Altair, immediately adding, “Sorry. That was a bad joke. I shouldn’t make jokes.”

  She grinned. “It’s fine. Did you expect to go on a hike before you came out here? I thought you three were just sorting things out after the funeral.”

  “I try to expect everything, Loe. I suppose that’s why Mag and Jay were so surprised about the psychic. They see me as predictable. Boring, even.”

  “I’d take predictable and boring over this, whatever it is. Besides, predictable and boring was what supplied us with a picnic today. It isn’t like the rest of us brought any food.”

  “So you think I’m boring too?”

  Shit! Why can I never say the right thing?

  “Of course not. You said it first! I hardly know you.”

  “Are you scared, Loe?”

  The question slipped under her guard and slugged her in the jaw. “No,” she said, on reflex.

  “It’s fine if you are. Most fears are based on the unknown. The abstract. Things that might happen, but you’re just not sure. Often, the dread of something bad is worse than the bad thing itself.”

  “I don’t even know if I dread anything. It’s all just way too weird. What about you?”

  “I’m sure there’s an explanation for all of this.”

  “I don’t mean that. Are you scared about what the psychic told you?”

  “Psychics are masters at psychological manipulation, Loe. They know how people think. They know how to coax information from a closed mind. How to trigger certain feelings. They know better than anyone that fear is in the unknown.”

  “Do you have any theories?” she said. “I could use a rational explanation.”

  Altair drummed his chin. “Have you heard of Folie à deux?”

  “I don’t watch much French cinema.”

  Altair laughed, and Loe didn’t tell him that she wasn’t joking.

  “Shared psychosis,” he said. “Where the same delusions, hallucinations even, are passed from one person to another, like a virus. It has another name when enough people share it. Family madness.”

  “Does the Harrow family share this madness?”

  “All families are a little strange.”

  “I’m not sure I feel any more reassured, Altair.”

  She felt her pulse begin to quicken then. Thump-thump-thump.

  She got to her feet, despite the aching of her body. “We better check on the food situation if we’re stuck here for a while.”

  While Jay drank, Mag napped, Altair did god knew what, Loe checked every cupboard in the kitchen. It was then that she discovered that even tinned goods had a use-by date, and if you bought tinned beans and peas and left them in your shelf for over a decade, they wouldn’t be much good. Stanway really hadn’t taken care of himself.

  Jay had already thrown away the meats and milk spoiling in Stanway’s fridge, and Loe’s search only brought bad news.

  “Looks like we only have whatever Alt bought,” she told them. “there are some tins, but they’re older than Alt.”

  This brought her a stern eyebrow raise from the older sibling.

  “Sorry, Alt. I shouldn’t make jokes either.”

  “There’s always the forest,” said Jay. “Nature’s pantry.”

  Mag folded her arms. “Do you even know which berries are edible? You’ll kill us all if we leave you in charge.”

  “I know that rabbits aren’t poisonous. And I know Dad bought a crossbow before we came out here. Remember? He gave us all a lecture on never, ever touching it. Said that when we moved to Harrow Hall and we showed we were mature enough, he’d teach us how to use it.”

  “I don’t remember,” said Mag.

  Jay put his hand on her shoulder. “Well don’t worry. It’s not like he ever had any intention of honouring his word.”

  “I’m beginning to think…” began Altair, then stopped.

  “What?” asked Mag.

  Loe caught his eye, and it was as if something sparked from his mind to hers. An idea. Like folie a deux, except not madness, but a question.

  “What if Stanway knew about this? About the woods, the road, the loops? What if he sent you all away while he still had a chance, before it trapped you?” she said.

  This was enough to stun them all into silence. But even in that utter quiet, in the room where lamps glowed and the clock didn’t tick, Loe felt like she could hear something, perhaps the sound of subconscious questions passing between them all.

  Chapter Eight

  The next morning greeted them with a patter of rain that quickly became a torrent, drumming on the windows of Harrow Hall like dozens of hands begging to be let in. The clouds gave the forest an even drearier look, made it seem even more uninviting.

  Unfortunately, Mag had only brought one even vaguely rainproof coat with her, so there was nothing for Loe to borrow. She hunted around the downstairs rooms of the house for something that she could use, but there was nothing.

  She couldn’t bring herself to go upstairs, to the bedrooms. It still didn’t feel right, since the others hadn’t sorted through the rooms up there yet. She still felt too much of a stranger, even after reminding herself that they were just as much strangers to this place as she was.

  “You could stay here while we go out,” said Jay. “Put your feet up. Read one of my spy novels. Drink gin. That’s everyone’s dream, surely?”

  That did sound inviting, but she shook her head. “I want to be there and see if this works. Getting wet never killed anyone.”

  “Tell that to the wicked witch of the west.”

  The headed into the forest, first going north. With no leaves on the trees, there was nothing to stop the rain from pelting down on them with full force. The mud became wet, the ground boggy, and soon it was bad enough that it slurped when they put their weight on it, as if it was trying to swallow their feet. If nothing else, Loe would have monster calf muscles by the end of all this.

  Every so often, they left markers by the trees. They used Stanway’s expired tin cans, since these were years past being edible, had colorful labels, and were heavy enough to withstand the wind if the weather turned even worse. Loe, Jay, and Mag each carried plastic bags full of the tins, while Alt was spared pack animal duty on account of his back playing up.

  “An old climbing injury,” he said. “Aches like crazy when it rains.”
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br />   They spent the morning leaving as many markers as they could. When the north route looped back to Harrow Hall – again with no sign of a pond – they headed east, hit the loop again, and then headed west.

  The plan had been to have lunch by the giant tree with the heart carved on it, but none of them fancied picnicking in a torrential downpour. So, they ate cheese and sliced ham sandwiches and salt and vinegar crisps in a conservatory on the right-wing of Harrow Hall, while the rain battered the windows.

  After resting a while – Jay point blank refused to move an inch until his food ‘had time to digest’ – they set out, heading over the increasingly familiar northern trail.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” said Jay. “No! This is bullshit!”

  “Keep going. Maybe we just missed them,” said Loe.

  They carried on.

  And on.

  And on.

  Soon, Harrow Hall appeared ahead of them again, that sentinel of defeat with its dagger-sharp turrets and weather-beaten wood.

  They had walked all the way to the loop point, and hadn’t seen any of the markers that they had left behind.

  “Maybe the squirrels ran out of nuts,” said Jay, but nobody had it in them to offer even a polite laugh. “I suppose they wouldn’t have a can opener though…”

  “That’s that, then,” said Loe. “Either someone is moving the cans, or something happens when we walk through the loop. Like it…”

  “It resets,” said Mag.

  None of them spoke, because none of them knew what to do with that. The whole thing was just so far out of normal comprehension.

  “Let’s try the other routes,” said Loe.

  The eastern trail bore no fruit, and after being slapped in the face by the sight of Harrow Hall again, they took the western route. By now, they had no optimism whatsoever. Loe felt like they all just wanted to get it over with so at least they could say they’d tried, and then they could wallow in their misery.

  The western trail was already the toughest, with a great big slope that had been ache-inducing even in dry weather, but it was actually sadistic when wet. The mud seemed to grip onto their boots and hold them fast, and the rain and wind worked in tandem so that the gale-like wind pelted water directly in their faces.

  To make things worse, it was getting dark, cold, and there were fewer things that sapped a person’s hope than a dark, cold forest that had no way out.

  “I never thought I’d say this,” shouted Jay, competing with the screaming wind, “But I almost want this to loop back again. We need to be inside.”

  “Just a little further, I think,” said Altair. “I’ve been trying to gauge how long before the loop-”

  Altair suddenly cried out and fell to the ground.

  Mag rushed over to him, slipped, and got a face full of mud. Jay helped her up, and Mag wiped the dirt and pine needles from her cheeks and forehead.

  Loe kneeled beside Altair, and she felt her stomach knot. “Holy shit!”

  “What the hell?” bellowed Jay.

  Altair alternated between groaning and crying, his face pure white, blood running from his leg and into the mud.

  Loe couldn’t bring herself to look at him again at first, but she forced herself to. She stared at Altair’s leg and felt nauseous.

  Metal jaws had bitten into him, just above his ankle. Horrible, rusted teeth that were clamped shut around his leg.

  “Is that a beartrap?” said Jay. “What the hell?”

  Altair groaned again. He kept reaching toward his leg, but Mag grabbed his arm. “Stay still,” she soothed. She put her other hand on his forehead, as if he was a child with a fever.

  “How do we get it off him?” she said.

  Jay circled around. “I’ll open the bastard up.”

  “No,” said Loe.

  Jay froze.

  “Don’t touch him or the trap. Just wait a second.”

  She stared at the trap for a few seconds. She tried to tune out Altair’s cries, harden herself to them. If she gave in, she knew that something would stir in her own mind, and then she’d be useless.

  She needed to forget about wondering what kind of lunatic left a trap out in the woods. Forget why they had done it. All she had to do was focus on what to do about it.

  And luckily, she knew.

  Bear traps were designed to hold an animal, not to chop its leg fully off. The traps teeth looked mean as hell, but they were blunt rather than sharp. Though it looked like they had bitten clean through Altair’s leg, they hadn’t. The blood came from where the jaws had scratched his skin, rather than taking a bite. Instead, they’d just snapped around him so they could hold him in place. With the way Altair was whimpering, you’d think a shark had chomped on his calf.

  “Just relax a second,” she told him.

  “Relax?” he choked.

  “It hasn’t broken the skin. It’s fractured your shin bone at the absolute worst, but you’ll probably only have a bruise. We need to focus on getting it off you.”

  Mag looked at her strangely. “You know about this stuff?”

  “I told you, I’ve done a few survival training courses.”

  “Right…so what do we do?”

  “The trap has two springs,” she said, pointing. “See? Jay, you press one of them. Mag, the other.”

  Jay stared at his older brother, then backed away, pale-faced at the sight of blood.

  Loe sighed. “Fine. Mags and I will do it. Mags, we need to compress the springs and then get his leg loose. Don’t let go until his legs are out, okay?”

  Mag gave Loe a strange look. It wasn’t hostile, exactly, so what was it? Was she impressed or something? Loe wasn’t used to getting looked at like that.

  “Ready?” she said.

  “Ready.”

  “One, two…”

  “Hey!” shouted Jay. He pointed to the top of the hill, toward what Loe had come to know as the western loop point. There, standing beneath a charcoal sky, was a figure.

  But this wasn’t an old woman in a gown. It was a man. Short and wiry, motionless and staring down at them. Lightning flashed in the sky, illuminating a trap hanging from a chain in his right hand.

  “You guys get that thing off him,” said Jay. “I won’t be long.”

  He took off after him before Loe could say anything. A groan of pain from Altair took her attention away.

  “Loe!” said Mag, pulling her sleeve.

  “Okay. The springs. Ready?”

  Years ago, a hill like this would be nothing for Jay, but now it made him feel like an old man. A burning ache began in his thighs and spread to his knees, his calves, his ankles. His breaths came quick and shallow, but the slope didn’t go easy on him, only becoming steeper and steeper, the mud slicker and slicker.

  Damn it! Running used to be his thing. He knew that Mag and Alt thought he was a loser. They never said it. But he knew.

  Maybe if he caught this guy…

  He tried to ignore the pain and exhaustion and get a look at the figure. He was still standing on the peak, at the edge of the loop. Staring, unmoving.

  Was that a bear trap in his hands?

  “Bastard!” shouted Jay, but the wind refused to carry his words much further up the hill and instead blew them right back at him.

  He tried to get a look at the man. Rain dripped into his eyes, made them sting. He wiped it away with his sleeve, only for more to pour down his forehead.

  He stumbled, only just catching himself. His lungs were at full capacity, there was no more coal left for the forge. He slowed down.

  Not even at the top yet. As soon as I leave this place, I’m giving up booze. Okay, I’ll have one beer a week. As a treat. Two at the most. Okay, three…

  The man turned to leave.

  Knowing he’d never catch him, Jay picked up and rock and threw it like a rugby ball.

  Yeah! There we go!

  There was nothing wrong with his biceps, at least. Years of giving his body hell couldn’t to
uch those. The rock sailed through the air, spinning, climbing the hill…and hit nothing. The man was gone.

  When he reached the top, Jay found the summit empty, no sign of him at all. Had the man gone into the loop?

  Or did he know a way out of it?

  If he let him go now, he might never find him again. Maybe he should follow him into the loop.

  But if he abandoned Loe and Mag and Alt…

  Damn it. If the guy had answers, Jay couldn’t afford to let them slip. He had no choice. He was going to have to follow him into the loop.

  Just before he did, he stumbled over to where the man had stood. There, he saw two imprints in the mud. A couple of splotches of blood. At least I hit the bastard.

  And not just that.

  Something metal, half buried in the mud. He put it in his pocket and ran on.

  “Now!” shouted Loe.

  They pushed on the springs, forcing the jaws to contract with a groan of rusted metal. Mag’s face strained, Loe’s temple veins began to pulsate.

  “Move, Alt!”

  But Altair wouldn’t drag his foot out of the trap.

  Loe’s biceps were trembling now. Blood rushed to her face.

  “Alt!”

  She couldn’t hold it much longer…

  “Damn it, move your foot!”

  “Argh!”

  Altair dragged his foot away just in time for Loe to let go. The metal jaws slammed shut. The trap jumped a foot in the air and then settled on the mud, its hunger satisfied for now.

  “Are you hurt?” said Mag. “Sorry, stupid question. How bad is it?”

  Altar’s leg looked better than Loe expected. There was lots of blood, but the cut was superficial. There were the beginnings of a bruise where the teeth had slammed on him, but right now the wounded area was more red than bruised. This time tomorrow, it would look a hell of a lot uglier. That was when the pain would really set in.

  “We better get back. Grab onto my shoulder,” she said, offering her right shoulder to him.

  Lightning flashed now, striking a tree just thirty feet away, crackling along every single branch and lighting them up like bones in an X-ray machine.