314 Book 3 (Widowsfield Trilogy) (16 page)

“Tell us what evil means to you,” said Lyle’s voice, though deeper and with a more malicious tone than Vess had ever heard his assistant use. “We’ll surpass your expectation.”

The wires finally released Lyle, but the man seemed only vaguely human now. His skin had been pulled away, as had most of his fat and muscle. Strips of pink flesh clung to the cords as they slithered at his feet, and though there was no way he could still be alive, he was standing and staring at Vess. He was a skeleton, tied together by the wires that reached out from the wall, but the demon had left him his lidless eyes to watch with. The globes darted back and forth as the creature’s mouth opened to reveal a shredded tongue within.

Lyle Everman’s risen corpse focused on Vess, and then took a step forward. The black cords that surrounded him expanded around his feet, and with every step he was pulling them forward, as if the darkness couldn’t exist except where he’d walked. Lyle reached out, his arm a mess of black wire and hanging strips of flesh, and his bone finger beckoned Vess forward.

“You can burn too,” said the corpse as it advanced.

“Wait,” said Vess as he cowered and stepped back. “Wait, I can help you.”

Lyle didn’t pause his shuffling gait. He reached out with his bony arm as the worms of cords slid around between his bones and flesh.

“I can bring you more.”

“Bring me more?” asked Lyle’s voice from somewhere in the room.

“Yes,” said Vess, sensing that his offer had intrigued the inter-dimensional entity. “I can bring you more like him.” He pointed with a trembling hand at Lyle Everman.

“More sacrifices?” asked the creature whose shadows dominated the walls.

“Yes,” said Vess. “We built this machine to offer you a sacrifice. That’s what you wanted, right? I gave Lyle to you.”

Lyle Everman’s shattered corpse cocked its head like a confounded dog. “You…” he sputtered a word from his blood soaked mouth.

The creature that appeared as only shadows and wires spoke with Lyle’s voice, “What would I need more for? I can toy with him for ages.” The wires rose and fell through Lyle’s mangled body, sliding in and out of his exposed ribs.

“You’ll get bored of him.”

“But then I’ll have you,” said the creature, cherishing Vess’s fear. “And all the other men aboard this ship. Together, we can explore your fears.”

“You have the whole ship?” asked Vess, but he continued before the creature could respond. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll want more.”

Lyle Everman’s corpse took a step forward, and the wires sprouted from the ground beneath him like blades of grass. Vess continued to move back, but then bumped into the CORD as it continued to function silently; the only sound Vess could hear was what the creature that dominated the room wanted him to.

“You need me,” said Vess, feeling insignificant and vulnerable as the shadows loomed around him. He looked down and saw that he was standing in the bitterly cold fog that had come out of the machine’s opened door, but he couldn’t get out of it. Lyle Everman’s corpse was too close now, and the black cords had begun to sprout from all around him. There was no escape.

Vess cringed as Lyle reached his skeletal hand out to him. The creature touched his cheek, leaving a smear of hot blood behind.

“We might consider your offer,” said Lyle. This time his voice didn’t emanate ethereally from the room, but rather directly from the corpse in front of him. The shambling mess of bone, flesh, and wire spoke to him as blood fell over his exposed teeth and down a strip of flesh that had once been a lip, but was now dangling under his chin. “But let’s play first.”

The wires thrust forward, piercing Vess in a hundred places, and snaked beneath his flesh to pull his bones away from one another. Vess experienced a level of torture that few humans had ever known, but he wouldn’t be the last.

The Watcher in the Walls had seen a million souls pass through his domain over the years. Their spirits were flashes of light streaking across his existence, never pausing or recognizing his presence.
Only the sacrificed ever passed slowly enough for The Watcher to catch, and often they eluded him as well. He was merely the shadow that the blinding light of a new world held at bay, but no longer. Now these souls lingered, and he would make the most of their visit.

Vess had used the
CORD to breach the barrier between heaven and earth, but The Watchers laid between. This Watcher took the opportunity to gather more souls, and it would keep the door open as long as it could.

Branson

March 13
th
, 2012

4:00 AM

“Hello,” said the clerk with a smile as Rosemary walked in.

She looked around the lobby of the hotel in search of cameras. There was one mounted in the corner, just behind the front desk, as she’d expected. She pulled at the front of her shirt to be certain her pistol, which was tucked under her belt, was hidden.

She walked up to the counter and offered the young man a weary smile. He smiled back, but she recognized nervous energy in his gestures. She surmised that he was the one that Rachel had contacted about the police looking for someone staying at his hotel. He was young, she guessed around twenty-five, with a thin face and blue eyes that were amplified by his glasses. He had a goatee, and his hair was thinning despite his youth, promising that he’d be bald by his mid-thirties.

“I hope you’re having a better night than I am,” said Rosemary, feigning an exhausted attempt at humor.

“Uh oh,” said the concierge. “Is something wrong?”

“My car broke down out on the road. It’s pouring smoke all over the damn place.”

“Sorry to hear that,” said the young man with honest empathy.

“I was hoping to use your phone,” said Rosemary as she pointed over the edge of the counter to the shelf on the other side where the staff’s computer and phone sat.

“Of course,” said the young man. He lifted the phone’s base and set it on the higher counter, just in front of Rosemary. “You have to dial 9 for an outside line.”

“Thanks,” said Rosemary as she picked up the receiver and dialed a random number. She walked away from the desk as far as the phone cord would allow and then started a fake conversation. She pretended to be speaking with a friend, and recounted how her car had stalled on the road. She kept an eye on the concierge to make sure he wasn’t becoming suspicious. All the while, she was recalling the moment when Michael Harper walked into the hotel looking for a room. She could remember the concierge swiping an electronic keycard through the activator and then setting it in a paper envelope where he jotted down a room number. Then she recalled the other staff member that went out to help Michael get Ben out of his car just before another guest arrived, and she cursed her bad luck. There would be more people to deal with than just this single concierge, but she was resolved in her decision that no one could be allowed to remember that Michael and Ben Harper came to this hotel. She had to erase any trail they left of their passing as best she could.

“Thanks,” said Rosemary to the concierge again after she hung up the phone.

“Did you find someone that can help?” asked the kind young man.

“Yes, they’re going to come here in a little while. Is it okay if I wait here in the lobby?”

“Of course. No problem, as long as you don’t mind the elevator music they play in here.”

“No, that’s fine,” said Rosemary with a pained smile. She wished the young man had been mean to her, that way she wouldn’t regret what she was going to have to do next. “Do you have a restroom?”

“Right around the corner there,” said the young man as he pointed to the left. “Just past the vending machines.”

Rosemary thanked him and then walked in the direction he’d pointed. She went to the women’s restroom as details about the young man’s life flooded her memories.

His name was Jim Broadbent. He was twenty-three, with a new girlfriend that he was certain he loved more than any other girl he’d ever met. They’d been dating for six months, but he was already considering asking her to marry him. He’d even gone to a jewelry shop to check how expensive a ring would be. Last weekend he went to…

“Stop it,” said Rosemary to herself as she went into the bathroom. She pressed her hands to her temples and clenched her eyes shut. “Stop it,” she repeated over and over as she stood in front of the mirror. “You can’t do that. This isn’t your fault.
They’ve all gotta go.”

Her hands were shaking as she took the pistol out. The gun trembled in her grip.

Rosemary stared at her reflection in the mirror, and lamented how tired she appeared. Physical weariness was one thing, but the weight Rosemary bore had sapped her of more than just that. She was exhausted both mentally and physically, and the toll her gift imparted threatened to break her. It had been five very long years since she fled Widowsfield, and these annual trips back threatened to break her each time. This year, however, promised to be the last. She’d already put into motion things that she hoped would end what Oliver and his boss had done.

Rosemary found her resolve, and stood straighter as she looked for a place to hide the gun. The bathroom had an automatic hand drier, with a paper towel dispenser on the wall beside it. She unlatched the top of the dispenser and saw that the white box was filled with folded, brown paper. She took a stack out, and set it on the counter before pl
acing the handgun inside. She carefully closed the case, threw the stack of unused paper towels in the trash, and then headed back out into the lobby.

Jim Broadbent was standing behind the counter, and he smiled at her as she walked back into the lobby. She grinned back, and then sat on a bench near the entrance. As she sat, she fiddled with one of her bracelets. It was made of plastic beads that were designed to resemble wood. She thumbed at the individual beads as she closed her eyes and concentrated.

After several minutes, she stood up and walked over to the counter. Jim had been sitting down, and he stood when he saw her coming closer. He set down the book he’d been reading and asked, “Can I help with something?”

“Actually,” said Rosemary as she slipped the bracelet off. “I wanted to thank you for being so nice.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” said Jim with a shake of his head and a smile. “All I did was let you use our phone.”

“Yeah, well, a lot of folks might’ve sent me out without offering help. I wanted to thank you by giving you this.” She handed him the bracelet.

“Oh no, that’s okay,” said Jim.

“I insist. I make jewelry for a living. Giving that to you is my way of saying thanks.”

“Well, thank you,” said Jim as he accepted the gift. “I appreciate that.” He examined it as Rosemary watched, and then he started to put it in his pocket.

“Try it on,” said Rosemary.

Jim did as he was asked, and slipped the bracelet on. The central band was elastic, allowing the bracelet to conform easily to the width of his knuckles before the beads snapped back together once around his wrist. “It’s pretty, but I think it’d look better on my girlfriend.”

“Maybe,” said Rosemary. “But just promise me you’ll wear it for a little while. Okay?”

“Sure,” said Jim, happy to comply. He certainly didn’t suspect any malice evident in the gift. “I’d be happy to.”

Widowsfield

March 13
th
, 2012

4:00 AM

“Oliver,” called out the nurse that had gone looking for the wounded man. After the strangers had left to go find Michael and Ben, Helen had told her assistant to go find Oliver
while she went up to check his office. The events of the night had shaken the younger nurse, and her hands were still trembling.

Oliver’s foot had been shot by the man named Paul. The wound had caused blood to seep through a hole in the bottom of his shoe, leaving a trail that was easy to follow. It led deep into the facility, far from anywhere that she’d ever been before. She’d always known the Cada E.I.B. building was large, but never knew it stretched this far. Oliver’s tracks led to an elevator, and the young, blonde nurse stepped inside and knew that she would have to check each floor. The
elevator had four buttons, but the level marked ‘B3’ was only accessible by inserting a key. She took the elevator to each floor, but then realized that Oliver must’ve used a key to access the restricted area. She debated going back to tell Helen that she’d been unable to follow their employer, but then she had an idea.

Helen had hit an alarm after the man that claimed to be Michael Harper left with a sleeper. The alarms in the facility caused several of the automatic locks in the facility to disengage, helping to prevent people from being trapped in the event of a fire or gas leak. She stepped out of the elevator on floor B2 and then walked over to a nearby staircase to check if it was unlocked. It was, and she went down one more level to check the door that would grant her access to the floor where she was certain Oliver must’ve gone.

It was open, and she went out into the hallway to find that she’d been right. Oliver’s bloody tracks led away from the elevator door and down the dark hall. The lights on this level weren’t functioning, so the nurse pulled out her cellphone to use its flashlight function. She stared down the long hall, searching its shadows for the wounded man.