Echoes of the Dead (13 page)

Kelsey murmured.

“You know, Kels, I miss you. We used to hang out in school—what happened?”

Kelsey glanced at the window. Still grey. “What do you mean?”

“What happened to us? We hit the bars at least once a week back in college. Then…” Sarah waved her hands like an explosion. “Poof.”

Kelsey knew what had happened. The house happened. Jared happened. A dead man, a John Doe suicide in a bathtub happened. She snapped her book shut and sat up.  Her feet came together as she crossed her legs. “We all grew up, I guess. Johnny opted for the Army. I graduated, moved on to grad school.”

“I didn’t.” Sarah frowned. “I regret it, now. I’ve thought about going back, maybe even trying to finish my degree online—I’m only twenty hours away from a B.S.”

“Why don’t you?”

Sarah put the cap on the nail polish bottle, but did not screw it on tightly. “Dunno. I guess I felt like it was a closed door. Like I wasn’t wanted in school anymore. Now I’m five years older—an old woman compared to the twenty-year-olds running around the place.”

Kelsey nodded. “Sometimes I feel that way.”

“But you’re a doctoral student. You’re supposed to be older, right? Older and so much brainier.” Sarah flopped back onto her bed, holding her fingers and toes in the air, allowing them to dry. “I’d be a freak in undergrad classes.”

“Don’t say that. There are plenty of—”

The lights blinked.

“Did you see that?”

“The lights?” Kelsey stood and moved toward the wall switch. “They flickered didn’t they?”

“Yes,” Sarah said. “Quick. On, off. It seems a touch darker now, too. Like they aren’t getting as much juice. Maybe this old joint can’t keep up with the demand. You know, the cameras and everything.”

“The cameras?” Kelsey frowned. “I thought they were battery operated.” She flicked the switch on and off. The light responded, and for a brief moment, while the light was off, the grey rectangle of sky framed by the window glowed. Shadows moved in shadow, and then light banished the monsters. “The switch seems fine.”

“Just old wiring, I suppose.” Sarah blew on her fingers. After a moment, her eyes flipped up and fixed on Kelsey. A hint of cold malice clung in her gaze. “What do you think of that valley girl? Erin?”

“She seems okay.”

“Okay?” Sarah’s nose crinkled. “I think she’s a brat.” Sarah held out her fingers and took a long look at the nails. “And I think Ben put her up to something. Either that or…”

“What do you mean?”

“Hearing footsteps at night. The oldest damn trick in the book. If she heard footsteps, we would have too, right?  I mean she’s got a room right across the hall. We would have heard footsteps, too.”

Kelsey nodded. “I suppose.”

“Did you?” Sarah asked.

“No.” Kelsey shook her head. “I didn’t hear any… Footsteps.”

Sarah’s lips curled. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“You paused just then. You said you didn’t hear any, pause, footsteps. Did you hear anything else? Are you receiving phantom signals from beyond the grave?”

Kelsey squirmed inside but held her back rigid. She hadn’t heard a voice. That had been her imagination. “No. Nothing. And it wouldn’t make sense for Ben’s show, anyway.”

“How do you mean?”

Kelsey tried to smile. “The cameras shut off after midnight, right?”

“Oh yeah. Good point. You do have some serious brains in that skull of yours. So… Speaking of cameras, where do you think they are, anyway? I haven’t seen Wayne and Larry—”

“Wayne and Nick. The sound guy’s name is Howard, I think.”

Sarah’s face screwed up. “Whatever. I haven’t seen the camera guys since the tour, since we poked our heads in the third floor bedrooms. I’ll admit I was a little freaked to come here, but now—now that all seems foolish. This is just an old house. A silly old house. Nothing more. A silly old house with a head full of bad memories.”

Foolish. Kelsey had been foolish to worry, to whine to Brit about the trip and worry about anything. The house was just a house. Sarah was right. Any voice she heard in the night had to be her imagination—her overactive imagination fueled with a million years of evolutionary fear of the dark and bad memories. “I was freaked, too. Worried, I mean.”

“At week’s end, you and I are going to be twelve grand less worried. Easiest money I’ve ever made. Things have been kind of tight lately. After they cut my hours at the store—”

This time, the lights did not flicker. They went dark without a sound, not even a tiny pop. On, then off. Darkness fell on the room. Sarah let out a slight squeal. “Well shit—I didn’t expect that,” she said. “Damn. I’ve knocked my polish over.”

Kelsey slipped off the bed and moved toward the window, like an insect drawn by kinesis, she moved to the light. She was wrong: the house wasn’t just a house. It had been listening to them, and when Sarah insulted it—called it
silly
—it shut off the power. Kelsey closed her eyes. Those thoughts were childish and illogical, but she couldn’t put them out of her mind.

“Do you smell that?” Sarah asked. There was a sound of bedclothes rustling.

“Smell?”

“Like cold… It’s a
cold
smell, like when it’s snowing.”

“Cold doesn’t smell,” Kelsey said.

“Like hell. It smells like a snowy day.”

Kelsey’s left hand slipped behind her and bumped the window pane. The smooth, cold glass sent a quick shock through her wrist like a piece of ice. She gasped.

“Are you all right?”

“Sure. I just bumped the window, that’s all. It’s cold.  Really cold like I put my hand against a hunk of frozen metal.”

“Funny.”

“What’s funny?” Kelsey drew her frigid fingers away from the window and rubbed them against her jeans. Her eyes had begun to adjust to the room’s dim light. The beds took shape as two masses of black. Sarah’s shape shifted and turned. Grey window light lit her face, framing it in a tiny, glowing patch.

“I found my polish bottle and the cap, but not a drop spilled on the floor.”

“Maybe it was almost empty,” Kelsey said. She knew—somehow she
knew
it wasn’t true, but she offered it anyway.

“No. I just bought it before coming here. It had to be—”

Kelsey jumped as the bedroom door clicked open. Dim yellow light from the hallway framed a figure, tall and slender.

“You ladies doing okay in the dark?” Johnny asked.

“We could use some company.  Who’s got the flashlight?”

“Daniel and I are out here. We’re going downstairs to meet Erin in the living room. Ben said the generator kicked off, too.”

“Too?” Sarah asked. “What do you mean,
too
?”

“Didn’t you see the lights flicker? The main power went out.  Ben had a generator installed to keep the lights on, but that failed.”

Kelsey turned and looked down from the window. Two shapes moved in the mid-day gloom: Wayne, the big muscular man, and another she assumed was Ben although it was hard to see clearly. Wayne waved his arms and pointed toward the house. The other shape shook his head.

“Kels?”

She turned away from the window.

Johnny held out a hand. “Are you coming with us, Kelsey?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m coming.”

Johnny led Kelsey down the stairs. One hand held a tiny flashlight, and the other clutched Kelsey’s ice-cold right hand.  She’d wanted to hold Johnny’s hand for years, to be close to him and feel the press of his flesh, but not like this. Not in this awful place. Sarah had been wrong about the house, and Kelsey had been just as wrong to join her. The house wasn’t silly. It was evil.  It had turned off the lights and made sure they were left groping about in the dark. It laughed at them in silence and waited. It could wait as long as it needed.

Seven days… For the first time, Kelsey felt as though she might not leave the house at all.

“I want to have a meeting,” Erin said from the foot of the stairs. Her eyes were fixed on Kelsey. She’d singled Kelsey out and searched her face. Was she looking for an ally? “I want us to talk about the next week and figure out what we’re going to do.”

“Shit,” Sarah muttered as she dropped on the parlor couch. “Do you want somebody to blow a fucking conch shell and get Wormsley and the camera boys in here, too?”

Erin’s head whipped toward Sarah and her long pony tail swung across her back. “I don’t know what I’ve done to you. I’ve tried to be nice. I’ve tried to—”

“Yeah, Sarah, back off, okay?” Johnny dropped Kelsey’s hand, rounded the corner,  and stepped into the parlor. His hands hung limp at his hips, swaying as he walked. “We should have a group pow-wow before the ever present eye rejoins us. Big Brother’s people are all outside having some sort of moment.”

“A moment?” Sarah asked.

“A disagreement. Something.” Johnny jerked a finger toward the door. “Out on the lawn. The forbidden zone for us.”

“It’s true,” Kelsey said. She remained on the bottom step. Her hand wouldn’t budge from the rail. “They’re outside. I saw a cameramen—Wayne—waving his hands. He looked upset.”

“It’s just the power,” Sarah said. She crossed her arms. “Once the electricity kicks back on, we’ll be up to our eyebrows in Hollywood.”

Kelsey eyed the front door. She could go. She could leave any time she wanted to, couldn’t she? What if the lights didn’t come back? What if they had to spend the next six and a half days in the dark house? She walked from the bottom step and moved toward the door. Twelve thousand… Was it worth it?

A hand caught her arm.

“What are you doing, Kels?” Johnny’s eyes fixed on hers. “Don’t forfeit your payday for a blown fuse.”

Kelsey shook her head and pulled away from Johnny. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“I was, too. Thinking about that guy out there—Benjamin Wormsley.” Johnny spoke as he walked into the parlor again, this time circling behind the couch and Sarah. “I don’t know what’s been going on for the guy since he left Kansas, but he sure seems ready and willing to play the Wizard.”

“What?” Daniel’s shoulders slumped. “Play the Wizard?”

“When you live here your whole life, Danny boy, you get used to the
Wizard of Oz
jokes.” Sarah pointed a finger over her shoulder, indicating Johnny. “I think soldier boy is making a reference to Wormsley’s desire to put on a good show. Like the Wizard—but like the Wizard, Ben’s show is all smoke and mirrors. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t blow the power himself.”

“On purpose?” Erin asked.

“Of course. Better drama.”

“But the cameramen… Wouldn’t they know?” Kelsey asked. She still hadn’t joined the others in the parlor. She was on the outside, pushed away by the newcomer, by Erin. Erin and Sarah fought because they were so much alike: thin, blonde, attractive. But she was the outsider. She didn’t belong anymore. Was that why Erin had stared at her? Was she trying to piece the puzzle together? Once the other two realized they didn’t need her, Kelsey would be left behind. She already drifted away.

She wanted to insulate herself.

“What do you mean?” Johnny asked.

“They looked like they were arguing.”

Sarah sighed. “Smoke and mirrors.”

“Maybe,” Johnny said. “I think we need to be on guard, that’s all. Something’s up. Wormsley will throw whatever he can at us. If this generator trick was his, it’s only the start. He was always a sneaky little prick. Now he has money to back up his games. I just want us to be ready, to give him a united front.”  He patted Sarah on the shoulder. “So cease fire, okay?”

“Whatever.”

“What about you, Erin? You called a family meeting, too.” He leaned against the couch’s back and nodded toward Erin.

The younger blonde’s face went pale. She nibbled her lip and glanced at the door. “It’s this house,” she said. “It’s hard to explain, really. I know you have a history here and I don’t, but it’s starting to—”

The front door opened with a bang.

“Well hello everyone,” Ben said. “Looks like I’m missing the party.”

Ben beat his coat sleeves as he strolled into the room. “I suppose it’s kind of hard to have much of a party in the dark. Wayne thinks he can get the power rolling again once he locates the main panel.”

“So it was a blown fuse?” Sarah asked.

“More likely the main breaker. The whole house is dead, right?” Ben asked.

Dead. The word rattled in Kelsey’s head.
Dead
.

“Funny choice of words, Wormsley.” Johnny stood. “We’ve been wondering what games you’re going to have us play. What little secrets you have in store. I guess a little power outage is step one.”

“You think I had something to do with this? You don’t trust me?”

Johnny walked around the end of the couch. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I trust the contract I signed. I don’t trust what that contract didn’t say. There wasn’t a word in there about the second floor or the ‘off limits’ bathroom. I wonder what else we might be in for.”