1 The Bank of the River (10 page)

The rain
came off and on that afternoon, with few sunbreaks. It was pouring by the time
Steven reached Roy’s house, and he grabbed an umbrella from the back seat,
handing it to Roy as he prepared to step out of the car.

“I don’t
need that,” Roy said. “I’ve been getting my head wet here for seventy years.”

“Fine, I’ll
use it myself,” Steven said, and popped it open outside of the car, trying to
shield himself from as much rain as possible. Roy scampered to the front door
and unlocked it, and Steven followed him inside, shaking the water off the
umbrella before entering. Roy put on a pot of coffee.

“I don’t
feel like we’re making much progress,” Steven said.

“Oh, I think
we found out quite a bit,” Roy said. “And I’ve got a theory forming. Ben was
right, Lukas wasn’t human. We saw that in the flow. And, therefore, I don’t
think the shadow of Lukas is a ghost. I think it’s something else entirely.”

“What makes
you think that?”

“Because it
doesn’t behave like a ghost. It drained Ben, and it’s draining me. That’s more
parasitic, like a mental vampire. And it’s far too powerful. What the shadow
did to you and me put Ben’s ghosts to shame. Ben could make things appear, but
Lukas could physically move you, hold you down, harm you. Ben was human, and
his ghost lingers for a reason – to warn us about Lukas, about Ben’s unfinished
business. Lukas was undergoing some kind of metamorphosis; that takes energy.
The shadow is a projection of himself, at the only level he is able to function
at right now, in his current state. It’s not a ghost.”

“So wherever
he’s buried right now,” Steven asked, “he’s…functional.”

“To some
degree.”

“Then why
attack you? What is Lukas after?”

“I think what
he takes from me,” Roy said, “he’s using to continue his metamorphosis, or to
stay alive in the grave long enough to find a way to continue.”

“And we’re
helping him. We keep offering you up, and he’s using what he takes from you to
try and return. No more séances, no more trances.”

 “Too late,”
Roy said, “we’ve engaged, the connection has been made. He knows me now, he
views me as food. He’ll keep coming after me until he wipes me out, just like
Ben. My fate was sealed the moment I walked into your house.”

“We know how
to keep him at bay. We just have to sleep in shifts.”

“For the
rest of my life?” said Roy. “I don’t think so.”

There was
silence. A wave of guilt washed over him. Had he not involved his father three
days ago, his father wouldn’t be in this position. Of course, he hadn’t known the
consequences at the time, or he wouldn’t have. And his father had practically
insisted. But he had invited him over to witness the occurrences. That was when
the connection was made. Steven could still see the shadow and its eyes staring
at Roy, sleeping in bed, floating an inch off the mattress, being slowly
drained to feed the corpse of Lukas Johansen.

“Dad, I’m
sorry,” he said. “If I hadn’t asked you to come over…”

“Nah,” Roy
said, “you’re viewing this the wrong way, you always do. You didn’t push me
into the river, I jumped in. It’s always my choice to jump, never anyone
else’s.” Roy poured himself more coffee. “We just have to find this sonofabitch
and finish the job.”

-

Steven spent
the afternoon doing more research, leaving his father at home with a promise
that he would rest but not sleep. They would do shift-sleeping again that
night. Until then, he wanted to follow up on a couple of ideas.

His first
stop was at the construction office of a buddy of his named Ned Tate. Ned was a
small subcontractor who worked on house construction. Ned and Steven had known
each other since college. At one time Steven thought Ned might have had a thing
for Sheryl, and in retrospect he wouldn’t put it past her to throw herself at
him. Still, Ned had always remained a good family friend. He had last seen him
at Ned’s daughters’ college graduation. Steven found him onsite in a new
housing subdivision in Maple Valley, a forty-five minute drive outside of
Seattle.

Steven sat
down at Ned’s dirty desk in the construction trailer. There were receipts and canary
colored work orders all over it, a couple coffee mugs with yesterday’s (or
older) coffee, and an engraved plaque that read “No Whining.” 

“I’m hoping
you can tell me how I might figure out what’s under a slab of concrete,” Steven
said.

“That’s
easy,” said Ned. “Jackhammer.”

“Eh, I can’t
really go that route. I can’t tear it up, not yet. I need to find out if
there’s something under it before I tear it up.”

Ned’s
eyebrows rose. “Well, you could use a GPR.”

“What’s
that?” Steven asked.

“It’s like
an x-ray machine, for underground,” Ned answered. “We use them to check for
pipes and conduits before we dig. What are you looking for?”

“Well, it’s
kind of hard to explain,” said Steven. “Here, take a look at this, would you?”
Steven handed his cell phone to Ned, displaying a picture of the cement floor
inside the Victorian house. “What if I wanted to x-ray under that? Would it
work? Would it show me if something was under there?”

“Sure, I
don’t see why not. You’re not going to tell me why?”

“Not yet
Ned, I really can’t. Trust me. But can you tell me, would it detect…” Steven
paused. He didn’t know if he should go any further.

“Detect
what?” Ned asked, his interest clearly piqued.

No, too
risky, Steven thought. He couldn’t say “bones” without the conversation
wheeling off in the wrong direction. “…a gas line? Would it detect a gas line?”
he stammered.

“Yeah, sure.
That’s one of the reasons we use it,” Ned said, still examining the photo. “But
if you dig here you’ll want to be careful of the sump pump.”

“A sump
pump?” Steven asked.

“Yeah,” Ned
replied. “This looks like a French drain to me. Very common in old homes in
Seattle. When it rains and the ground gets soaked, most old basements built
before fifty years ago will flood. To solve that, you put in a French drain
with a sump pump, keeps the basement dry. That’s what it looks like to me, done
maybe ten, fifteen years ago. I wouldn’t dig it up to find that out if it’s
working fine. And you sure as hell don’t need to pay to rent a GPR. I can loan
you ours if it comes to that.”

Steven let
this roll around in his head, and he liked it. He found a straightforward
plausible answer refreshing, even if it wasn’t the one he’d expected. “Thanks
Ned,” he said, grabbing his cell phone back. “I appreciate the advice. I might
take you up on the GPR down the road. Let’s get together for a beer soon,” he
said, as he backed toward the trailer door.

“Sure, no
problem buddy,” Ned said, watching him go. A worker approached him with a
question and Ned’s attention turned back to his work.

-

Steven
picked up Roy and he drove them both to Steven’s house. On the way he explained
what Ned had told him.

“Lukas’
house is a bust. You felt nothing standing over the patch, and Ned says it’s a
sump pump. If Ben killed him, he didn’t bury him there, especially with that
nosy freak next door. If he buried him at all. This is all just a wild theory.”

“Oh, he
buried him,” Roy said. “I’ll bet every penny I have on it.”

“You’re sure
of that?” Steven asked.

“Absolutely,”
Roy replied.

“OK,” Steven
continued, “then where would he bury him? Some place where he had enough
privacy to do it. My place, Ben’s old house. He could take his time doing it.”

“The shadow
did appear there first,” Roy said.

“Well, you
tried to ‘feel’ whether there was anything under the patch in the basement at
Lukas’s house when we snuck in. Are you sure that method works? Can you detect
things that way?”

“I think
so,” Roy said.

“Think?”
Steven asked. “Or know?”

“Think,” Roy
said. “Just think. Nothing is perfect, you know. I can’t guarantee it. I knew
where Ben’s journal was hidden, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” said
Steven. “That’s good enough for me. I figure we’ll walk you over every square
inch at my place. Like a divining rod. See if anyplace triggers you. If Lukas
is buried there it ought to set you off like a pinball machine.”

Steven and
Roy performed a quick survey of the house, basement and back yard before
beginning.

“Let’s do
the basement first,” Steven suggested. “Now, if you go into the trance can I
move you? Can you walk?”

“Of course I
can walk,” Roy said. “Let’s give it a trial run and see.”

“So, what,
you go into a trance, then I lead you around?”

“Yeah.”

“How will
you know if you’ve detected something?” Steven asked.

“I’ll know,”
Roy replied. “And I’ll tell you. Some things are harder to detect than others,
but Lukas isn’t subtle. The problem will be the walking. My vision won’t be
focused on things on the floor.”

“Why don’t you
put your arm on the back of my shoulder, like this,” Steven said,
demonstrating, “and then I can lead you around by walking, and you just follow
me.”

“Fine by
me,” Roy replied. “When do we start?”

“Let’s try
it now,” Steven said, leading him to the downstairs family room. It had the
most recent remodeling of any room in the house, and Steven thought it the most
likely suspect.

They paced
over all of the room, Steven leading Roy slowly, going back and forth across
the room in two foot increments. Steven resisted the urge to ask his father if
he was feeling anything. He couldn’t see Roy’s face, so he didn’t know if some
areas of the room brought about some reaction more than others. When they
finally reached the end of the room, he turned to face Roy.

“Anything?”

“Nope.”

“Really?”

“I said no.”

“Not even a
slight bump?”

“What’s a
slight bump?” Roy asked.

“You know,
something that made your meter jump a little?”

“Meter? I don’t
know what you think I’m doing, but there’s no meter involved.”

“I didn’t
mean it literally. Something that…impressed you…more than normal?”

“And I told
you, no.”

The pattern
again. Time to back off.

“Shit. I
thought this room might be it.”

“Well, let’s
try another room,” Roy said.

They moved
to one of the bedrooms and repeated the procedure, with the same result. Then
they tried the bathroom, the hallways, and laundry room.

“Nothing,”
Roy said.

“The
backyard is private,” Steven said. “We can scan it this way without people
seeing us. Let’s go.”

For the next
hour they slowly paced over every square inch of the yard, Steven careful not
to interrupt his father and mindful of uneven surfaces. Towards the end he
could tell Roy was tiring, his breathing was increasing and his pace slowing.

They
finished the last pass against the back fence, and Steven turned to Roy.
“Anything?”

Roy just
shook his head. “I could use a beer,” he said.

Steven
followed him into the house, retrieved the beers, and they drank together in
the kitchen.

“So?” Steven
said.

“So,” Roy
replied, “he’s not buried here.”

“You’re
sure?”

“Not one
hundred percent, but yes, I’m sure.”

“Because,”
Steven said, “if he was, you’d have felt something, right?”

“Yes,
goddamnit!” Roy snapped. He was obviously tired and Steven’s questions were
irritating him.

“Maybe you
were tired out there, maybe your tuner wasn’t…fully powered. Maybe we should
try again when you’ve got more energy.”

“It won’t
make any difference, he’s not out there,” Roy replied.

“Fine,”
Steven said. “So, if not here, where?”

“I don’t
know where. But I can tell you, it’s not here, and it’s not at the Lukas house.
We’re wasting our time at either place.”

Steven was
scraping the barrel for answers. “We could go back to Michael. Confront him
with our theory.”

Roy
considered this. “Maybe.”

“He’s
involved, we know that,” Steven said. “You said he knows more than he told us.
He’s hiding something. If we tell him we’re on to him, it might rattle him, we
might shake some information from him.”

“Doesn’t
feel right,” Roy said.

“Feel
right?” Steven asked. “What does that mean? He knows more about this than we
do, more than he’s let on. And we need to find out what he knows. Seems
simple.”

“It means,”
said Roy, “that it feels wrong. Something’s wrong with that approach. I can’t
tell you why. It just doesn’t feel correct.”

“Well,” said
Roy, “unless you have a better idea, that’s my next stop.”

“Wait,” Roy
said. “I’ll go with you. But we need to stop at my place first.”

“Why?”

“Because
there’s something I need to get, first.”

“What?”

“Jesus
Christ with the third degree!”

“No secrets,
Dad. I want to know what you’re planning. I don’t want you going off on some agenda
that I don’t know about. If we’re going to confront this guy, I want us both to
be on the same page.”

“Agreed,”
said Roy. “I want to pick up something that will give us some protection.”

“What, like
a talisman or something?”

“Kind of
like that, yes.”

“You think
we need protection from this guy?” Steven asked.

“Yes,” Roy
replied, “I do. I told you it seems wrong. Anything that might tilt things to
our advantage, yes, we should consider.”

“You think
he’s dangerous? You think when we tell him what we suspect he’ll come unglued?”

“Yes, I
think there’s a good chance of that.”

-

When they
reached Roy’s place, Steven sat in the living room while Roy disappeared into
the back. He emerged carrying a 9mm pistol, which he flashed at Steven with a
smile, then tucked into his coat pocket.

“That’s your
talisman?” Steven asked.

“God bless
America,” Roy replied, rummaging through a kitchen cabinet.

“I thought
we were going to pick up some trinket that would protect us from evil powers,
but your plan is to shoot the guy.”

“Best
protection money can buy,” Roy called to him, as he located a bottle in the cabinet
and returned to Steven. “That, and this.” He showed Steven the bottle.

It was a
small Mason jar. Inside was an inch of clear liquid.

“I’m afraid
to ask, but what is it?” Steven said.

“Hasn’t got
a name,” Roy replied, opening it. “I whipped it up a couple of days ago. Old
habits die hard, I hid it in the back of the kitchen cabinets, afraid Claire
would find it. Guess I could have just left it out here on the counter.”

“What do you
mean,” Steven asked, “you whipped it up?”

“It’s from
the book,” Roy said. “Protection.”

“Protection?”
Steven asked, incredulous. “What is this, a potion from your secret book?
You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“And you’re
telling me,” Roy replied, “that after everything you’ve seen the past few days
you think the idea of some extra protection is silly?”

“The gun I
buy,” Steven said, “the potion is bullshit.”

“Fine, then
none for you. But you should know this stuff has been keeping me going the past
few days.”

“What do you
mean?”

“I mean,”
replied Roy, “that without it, I’d be in a hospital bed by now. Lukas would
have drained much more than he’s been able to.”

“What does
it do?” Steven asked.

“Never you
mind, it’s bullshit, remember?” Roy shot back sarcastically.

“Fine, you
drink it, and you feel empowered, protected, whatever. Can’t hurt.”

“Exactly.”

“What’s in
it?”

“You don’t
need to know.”

“I do if
it’s poisonous.”

“If it was
poisonous, why would I drink it? Besides, you’re not going to drink any.”

Steven
sighed. The pattern could go on and on, he was always the one who had to break
it.

“Do you
drink it now, or take it with us and drink it there?” Steven asked.

“I’ll drink
it now, provided we’re going straight over to talk to him.”

“That’s the
plan.”

Roy downed
the remaining liquid in the jar and replaced the cap. “Let’s go.”

-

Lights were
on at the small house next to the Victorian mansion. Steven and Roy had
discussed their plan on the ride over. Steven would lay down the theory, and
Roy would press him for more information. They didn’t need to tell him
everything they knew, or guessed, just enough to upset him and hopefully cause
him to divulge more information. Roy would keep the gun ready if things got out
of hand.

Steven
knocked, and they waited nervously. A moment later, Michael opened the door.

“Gentlemen!”
he said, enthusiastically. “Come in! Good to see you both again!”

They walked
inside, and he motioned for them to sit on the furniture in the living room.
“Please, sit, can I get you anything? Would you like some tea, or some water?”

“No, we’re
fine,” said Steven. Michael turned to look at Roy, seeming to want a
confirmation from Roy that he didn’t want anything either. Roy shook his head.

“Well then,
what can I do for you?” Michael asked.

“Well,”
Steven started, “we were hoping you could shed some light on a few problems we’re
having.”

“I’d be
delighted to help any way I can,” Michael replied.

“Thank you
for that, I think you’re just the man to help us,” Steven said. “We could
really use some more information about the house next door.”

“Ah, the
house again. What is it?”

Steven
looked Michael in the eye.

“This is
just a theory of ours, and I know this might sound crazy, but both I and my
father believe that the former resident of the house, fifteen years back, might
have been responsible for the disappearance of several young children in the
neighborhood.”

A chill fell
upon the room. He looked in Michael’s eyes for any kind of deflection or
evasion, but there was none.

“Doesn’t
sound crazy at all,” Michael replied.

Steven was
taken back. “So,” he started, “you think Lukas Johansen might have been
responsible for those disappearances?”

“I don’t
think so,” Michael said, “I know so.” He turned his head to Roy. “Just as you
know, Roy.”

Steven
turned to look at Roy, who was staring back at Michael. Steven felt there was
something passing between them, and he was suddenly glad that Roy had downed the
protection before they left.

“Ours is a
theory,” Steven said, trying to keep the plan moving forward. “But it sounds
like you might have witnessed something back then?”

 “I did,”
Michael said, returning his gaze to Steven. “I helped him consume them.”

Dead
silence. Steven felt a little numb, unsure how to react. This was not the
direction he thought things would go. He felt sweat break out on the back of
his neck, and he braced himself, half expecting Michael to bolt across the room
and attack him. He glanced over to Roy and could see Roy was on full alert, his
hand in his coat pocket. He knew that inside, Roy had the gun aimed at Michael.

“Consume
them?” Steven asked.

“Yes,”
Michael said, matter-of-factly. “I captured each of them, prepared them for
him, and then we consumed them together.”

“A ritual?”
Roy asked.

“Funny that
you should ask,” Michael said to Roy, “when you already know. But I suppose you
ask for his benefit,” he said, returning to Steven. “He seems a little slow.”

Steven was
grasping for the next thing to say that would keep the plan working, but it was
clearly failing. He was hoping to shake up Michael, but the reverse was
happening. “I guess my next stop should be the police,” Steven said.

“You’ll need
some evidence, or it will turn out like your last interaction with them,”
Michael said, delivering another shock.

“It was
you,” Steven said slowly, “in my house the other night. You broke into my
house?”

“And it will
be over before you get any evidence,” Michael continued, ignoring him.

“Not if we
find the bodies of those children buried in the house next door,” Steven said,
trying a bluff. “The cops might be interested in digging to find out.”

“Dig away,
Steven. I told you, they were
consumed
,” Michael emphasized in a way
that made Steven sick to his stomach.

“What will
be over?” Roy asked. “You said it would ‘be over’ before we get any evidence.
What will be over?”

“What do you
think, Roy?” Michael asked calmly, smiling at Roy as though he was his
long-lost grandfather.