Echoes of the Dead (25 page)

Kelsey’s right hand touched the side of her neck. She began to feel sick, a slow, rising stomach fluid cocktail tainted with fear and anxiety. “So what about us, then? Me—the others downstairs.”

“You’ll be missed. They—someone outside the house—might mount a search. No one will find you in here. Eventually, the house will take all of you. It’s hungry. It’s lonely, like I’m alone.”

“You sound like it’s alive.” She patted her arms, fighting the chill. “You talk like this house has an appetite, like it’s an animal. That’s too weird, Jared. I don’t believe—”

“This place doesn’t care if you believe or not, Kels.”

She closed her eyes and imagined a maze from the animal lab on campus—one of her mazes. What did the rats see when they scurried through her puzzles? Did they imagine anything beyond the maze walls? Could they plan ahead, speculate about the future when they might be free of the maze? Did they think at all? Did they ever imagine the maze was alive? Her eyes opened. “We’ll die. We’ll be lost in this house and die.  We’ll starve to death.  If no one is able to find us—”

“Yes, eventually. Memories live, though. It’s not bad.”

“I don’t want anyone to die…”

“I didn’t either—five years ago.” The shadow of a smile grew on Jared’s cold lips.

“We didn’t—we fled the house after finding the body. We trekked through the snow to the highway and flagged down the first vehicle and found help.”

“I know.”

“The body…”

“My uncle,” Jared said. “He committed suicide when I was ten. It was an awful mess and a powerful, powerful memory. I was the one to find him, dead, in his tub. I erased the blood in my memory, but the rest remained strong. When the house had me, once I knew it wouldn’t let me go, I left you my uncle’s body. I wanted all of you to leave and not return.”

Kelsey began tugging her bottom lip and pacing a small path in the dark space. She understood, at least as much as she could. “We’re in danger here.”

“Danger is a strange word.”

“Am I lost?”

Jared tilted his head. “Your father found you.”

“So I can save the others—Johnny and Ben and Sarah and Daniel? I can still save them?”

“Possibly.” Jared shrugged. “But dying’s not so bad.”

“Like hell. We’ll all die. I mean, of course we will—but we don’t have to die
here
. We don’t have to die in this stinking pest hole.” Kelsey punched a balled up fist into the opposite palm. “What about Erin?”

“She’s here.”

“But I need to find her.” Kelsey narrowed her eyes. “I need to find her and get the others out of this fucking house.”

“I’ve been lonely, Kelsey. Please, I don’t want you to leave.”

Realization sparked in Kelsey’s mind. Her mouth dropped open. “My God—you were the man on the road. You made us wreck.”

 “I didn’t want you to leave me this time.”

She closed her eyes. His skin had been cold when they hugged. There wasn’t a spark of life in the thing she’d touched. It was Jared and not-Jared. Her eyes opened again, and the thing was gone. “We’re not beaten yet,” she muttered, and the world around her swirled to black.

Ben woke with a start.

Somewhere inside the house, a door had slammed, waking him from a thick, dreamless blanket of sleep. He turned his head from side to side, working the kink from his neck. His arms and legs sagged like they were infused with lead. The house listened. A slight wind buffeted the windows, but everything else was still. He scooted from the chair and stood. His throat burned where Johnny had held him down. He needed water… Something to drink.

Sarah lay with one hand across her forehead. A pallid cast hung over her features, and her hair spilled in a silver mass over the arm of the couch. She was breathing. He watched the slow rise and fall of her chest for a moment before turning to Johnny.

Soldier boy was out, too.

Some hero.

Johnny… Sarah… Ben found Daniel, too, asleep lie the others. But Kelsey was gone. A creeping coldness wound through his stomach, the same sensation which started to grow after hearing the crew’s distressed voices over the radio. Kelsey… He looked to the stairs and front foyer. She wouldn’t have left. She couldn’t have, not in this mess. His shoeless feet padded across the parlor rug, past the others fast asleep, and brought him to the foot of the stairs. Again, he listened.

Nothing. Not even the dull thump of footsteps anywhere else in the house.

How was it possible? How could five people—now six if he counted Kelsey among the number of missing—just disappear. Ben frowned. The creeping chill collided with a hollow pit in his gut and spread like hoarfrost over his skin. Kelsey was gone, too. He’d lost five on this trip to the house. Jesus. They were being picked off, one by one. He glanced toward the three in the parlor. His gaze swept toward the stairs. Darkness watched him from the second floor landing. Darkness waited for him.

He broke through the frost and climbed.

~

Kelsey opened her eyes.

She was lying in the second floor bathroom, but this time it wasn’t empty. A tub had returned, along with a sink and small medicine cabinet with a mirror. The bathtub was free of corpses—just an ordinary white-porcelain tub. She studied her image in the mirror.

Kelsey pushed herself upright and stood. For a moment, she listened to the house—listened to a great, slumbering beast. She was still in the monster’s belly, but now, at least, she possessed a weapon against the monster. She’d seen behind the curtain.  The house couldn’t manage all of them, not a once. Too many memories filled the house. Kelsey left the bathroom, headed down the hall, and turned into the yellow room. She’d last seen Erin on the third floor, and she would look again. She needed light. The old hesitation lingered, the old fear of darkness. Once inside the room, she worked her way to the window and pushed the curtains open. The snow-covered world glowed like a child’s toy. Stars twinkled overhead. Light enough.

Her suitcase was still on the chest at the foot of her bed. She threw open the cover and rummaged inside. Although she’d placed some of her clothing in the dresser, she’d kept a few items in the suitcase, including the small box her mother had given her after the funeral. She found the box. Her fingers fumbled with the lid, pulling it open. Inside, she found her father’s lighter wrapped in a wad of old newspaper. She picked out the lighter, leaving the paper in the box. Her thumb raked across the rough wheel. Sparks jumped, and an orange flame rose, casting flickering shadows on the yellow walls.

She clicked the lighter shut and headed for the stairs. Her feet pounded up at first, toward the third floor. She’d last seen Erin there. Erin wasn’t lost… Not if Jared spoke the truth. Could she trust him—it? What if the house was playing with her, another illusion from the God-forsaken maze? She needed a test to prove Jared was real, even as a memory. She needed a test before she did anything else—before she even went back down and spoke with the others.

She froze. A tiny light danced in Johnny’s room, its yellow haze spilling into the hallway. Her gaze raked across the hallway wallpaper. The pineapples were gone—had they even been there in the first place? She shook her head, trying to dislodge broken thoughts—to dislodge them or force them together like a stubborn puzzle, a puzzle with missing pieces.

Her mouth opened; she meant to call Erin’s name, but held back. Her throat constricted. She touched her skin with a finger and found lumps of gooseflesh. She had to check. She had to know. She moved closer to the light, the open door. Her hand touched the wainscoting, rubbing across the seams in the wood panels. She paused, heart pounding. Breath would not come—her lungs had frozen.

Go on.

She found Ben when she turned the corner. He shined a flashlight in her face. His other hand clutched a black pistol.

“Fuck—Kelsey… I thought you were gone, too.”

She shielded her face from the light. “Put it down, okay?”

“Sorry.” The yellow beam pointed toward the floor. “Where have you been?”

Kelsey’s eyes wouldn’t leave the gun. “Looking for Erin. What’s with the pistol?”

Ben sat on the bed and dropped the flashlight beside him. He cradled the pistol in front of him, examining it like one might a fossil or rare archeological find. “It’s John’s. I found it in here. He had it buried in his suitcase, covered up with a bunch of t-shirts. Why do you suppose he’d bring a gun, Kels?”

She shook her head.

“It’s loaded, too.” Ben’s voice drifted like the sound of a television in another room. He shook his head as he spoke. “I don’t know either.”

“Maybe he wanted a little security. Maybe he wanted to feel safe.”

“But…” Ben turned the pistol over.

“Jared’s still here, Ben.” Kelsey folded her arms. She imagined being strong. “Jared’s still here, somewhere in this house.”

Ben’s mouth hung open. He blinked three times in succession. “I know. I’ve always known he was still here, even though he can’t be. We’ve been through every room. He’s been missing for five years. It’s just impossible for anyone to hide here for that long. The police—”

“I don’t give a damn what the police said. Jared’s here—I don’t think he intended to hide. The house trapped him.”

A moment passed. The house listened, waiting. Ben covered his face with his free hand. “My God, Kels. What have I done?”

She shook her head, seeing the ruined Ben Wormsley for the first time. He was a broken man; his smile torn down and cast aside.

“I brought us here because I wanted to find him. I wanted some closure. The show… Jesus, I don’t even have the money to pay anyone. I haven’t sold the rights. The venture capital was just enough to buy the house and get the crew. I needed to sell the show to pay the five of you.” Ben glanced at the gun. “I never intended anyone to get hurt—”

“You don’t have the money?”

Ben shook his head.

It was all an act, from the first superficial smile he’d shared over a drink in Manhattan to the bullshit he spewed on the house tour. He’d tripped and fallen and now sat before her—broken but honest.

“You never had the money?”

“I’ve been having these dreams, Kelsey. Nightmares for months. I thought it was some kind of sign, some kind of message from—”

“Jared,” Kelsey said. “Me, too. Sarah’s had them.”

“Really?”

“Yes. He’s still here, though. I’ve seen him.”

“That’s impossible.” Ben’s eyes narrowed, and his tone became incredulous. “That’s not possible.”

Kelsey dropped her arms to her sides. Ben had lied about the money. A piece of her wanted to lunge forward, grab the pistol, and whip him with the butt. Part of her wanted to slap him. She wanted to scream and shout and tear Ben Wormsley into several tiny pieces for bringing them to this hell. But Ben was as broken as anyone—he’d just done a better job at hiding.

“He’s here, Ben. I’ve seen him—part of him, anyway. A ghost… I don’t know.” She frowned. “Whatever he-it was, I know the others are here, too. We still have time to save them. I think we need to find him, too.”

Ben tilted his face toward her, questioning. “But you said you saw him?”

“Yes… A ghost… A memory. His body has to be here.”

“God…” Ben glanced at the gun. He rose from the bed, took the gun to Johnny’s suitcase and buried it under the t-shirts. “I-in the morning, we’re going to take this house apart. In the morning, we find the others.”

The morning sky hid behind a constant sheet of snow. The snow had been falling for nearly two days without respite. The blinds around the big dining room window were drawn, letting in as much light as possible from the white wasteland outside. Four sets of weary eyes studied each other. Daniel, Ben, Johnny, and Kelsey sat at the table, munching what they could find in the pantry—some cereal and dried fruit—from the cartons. The house was cold, far too cold for comfort, and each wore a coat. Sarah remained asleep on the parlor couch.

“The owners of that diner—the Harvest House—will come or contact someone to find us, won’t they?” Daniel asked. “They were to bring us meals, and since they can’t, they will call the police. Some authority.”

“Will they?” Johnny asked. He cast a glare toward Ben.

“I’m sure they’ll try.” Ben sighed. “I’m sure they will.”

“Try.” Johnny snorted. “Try. You said we needed to get to work this morning, hence this amazing breakfast. So talk.”

Ben nodded. “Kelsey and I want to search—”

“For Erin,” Kelsey finished his sentence. “We want to make one more search for Erin, scouring the house from top to bottom. We’ll all go together and start on the third floor.”

Ben shot Kelsey a puzzled look. “What about—”

“Sarah?” Kelsey returned an icy gaze, trying to signal Ben to be quiet about Jared, about what they’d discussed the night before. “She’ll be fine down here.”