314 Book 3 (Widowsfield Trilogy) (7 page)

“We’ll help,” said Stephen as he moved to stand closer to Rachel. He started to take off his wedding band to hand over to Rosemary. “Will this work?”

Rosemary nodded and said, “That should be fine.”

“Wait a minute.” Rachel was surprised and annoyed by her husband’s acquiescence to the stranger’s request. “I’m not planning on fighting anything.” She looked at Alma and said, “I’m going to help you guys find your dad, and then I’m out of here.”

“Isn’t this the biggest story of your life?” asked Stephen. “How are you not at least a little intrigued about what’s going on here?”

“I don’t give a fuck about a story,” said Rachel, emphasizing her curse as if telling a joke. “Whatever happened to us in this town, in that dream, or nightmare, or whatever… Whatever it was, it’s enough for me. I want out!”

“Just give her your wedding ring,” said Stephen as if he were bored with Rachel’s argument.

“No, I’m not giving some stranger my ring,” said Rachel. “That’s crazy.”

“Don’t worry,” said Stephen with a grin. “It’s not worth as much as you think it is.”

Rachel was flustered. “Well, that’s great.” She closed her eyes and shook her head while waving her hands in front of her face, an expression of her annoyance and frustration. “Look, guys, I’m not trying to be a pain in the ass here or anything. I’m trying to be the sensible one. Whatever the hell it is that we just went through…” She motioned to the gurneys and then over at Aubrey’s corpse, “Whatever it is, it just killed that girl. She’s dead. How am I the only one that thinks we shouldn’t be screwing around with stuff we don’t understand?”

“We’re the only ones that can stop The Watcher and The Skeleton Man from getting out,” said Rosemary.

“He’s already out,” said Rachel. “Too late.”

“Then we have to put him back in,” said Rosemary.

“What about calling the cops?” asked Rachel. “Has anyone given that a thought?”

“And tell them what?” asked Stephen. “That some inter-dimensional
demon is fucking with our heads, knocking people out, and killing them in their dreams?”

“We’ve got a goddamn room full of fucking coma patients in there,” Rachel pointed at the door that led to the sleepers’ room. “It’s not like we’ll be going to the cops
empty handed.”

“We can’t go to the police,” said Rosemary. “There’s no guarantee they’re not in on it.”

“Oh come on,” said Rachel. “Don’t tell me you think every police officer in the area is in on this whole cover-up thing.”

“Maybe not all of them, but at least a few must be,” said Jacker.

Rachel turned to face the big man, frustrated that he’d spoken against her. “We all know why you don’t want the police showing up.”

“Hey,” said Jacker, annoyed at her insinuation. “I already tried to give myself up to the cops to save your ass. I don’t need you…”

“Cool it,” said Paul as he stepped between them. “Both of you.”

“If you call the cops,” said Rosemary, “then they’ll be dredging your corpse out of the reservoir in a week or two, just like all the others. You can check the records yourself. There’re an awful lot of supposed boating accidents out here all the time – far more here than any other county in the area. That’s no coincidence.”

Paul took a key off its ring and handed it to Rosemary. “That’s the key to my bike.”

“What does giving that to her do exactly?” asked Rachel, still trying to force the issue. She looked at Rosemary and asked, “What are you going to do with this stuff?”

“Like I said, I’m a psychometric. That means I can take information from objects. When you were unconscious, you saw how The Watcher and The Skeleton Man were able to warp the world around you, and confuse you. Hopefully I can keep them from doing that. If I can get to know you, through these things,” she held up Paul’s key, “then hopefully I can stop them from tricking you.”

“Guys, please tell me I’m not the only one that thinks this whole thing is insane,” said Rachel, pleading for someone to agree with her.

“This whole town is insane,” said Alma as she reluctantly handed over her teddy bear keychain that Paul had bought her on their first date.

Rachel sighed, but pulled at her wedding ring.
Her engagement ring and wedding band had been fitted together as part of their design, and it caused them to be difficult to separate. She struggled to get the ring off, but then begrudgingly gave both the band and the engagement ring counterpart to Rosemary. “Fine, fine,” said Rachel. “But I still think we should all consider leaving this place and forgetting we were ever here.”

“We’re the only ones that can put the devil back in
Hell,” said Rosemary. “And I’m going to do whatever it takes to get the job done.”

Philadelphia

June 13
th
, 1943

“Personal demons?” asked Lyle as he followed Vess across the deck of the ship. Young men in Navy uniforms passed them, never once stopping to question why they were there. Vess was an important man, but if he was well-respected then no one was displaying the proper reverence. He was admitted wherever he chose to go on the USS Eldridge, a Navy Destroyer escort. Everyone seemed to understand that the tall scientist and his assistant were allowed access to every part of the massive ship, but none of the sailors seemed fond enough of Vess to acknowledge him.

“Is that what you said?”
asked Lyle, uncertain he’d heard his employer correctly.

“Yes,” said Vess as he led the way. “What sort of personal demons are hiding up here?” He tapped the brim of his fedora and smiled down at his companion. The call of seagulls above threatened to drown them out. The birds flocked at the yard, drawn here by the families that often crowded the dock to welcome their husbands and sons home, or to send them away. The anxious family members were subjected to long waits, as it often took hours for the Marines to exit the ship after docking. To ply the children, mothers would bring stale bread that the kids could throw to the gulls. Today, however, there were no families present, and the seabirds voiced their frustration.

“Demons?” Lyle chuckled and nodded knowingly, “Oh I get it, you’re talking about that Austrian chap, right? Freud?”

“Depends,” said Vess as if toying with his new assistant. “Do you want to bed your mother?”

“Quit with that nonsense,” said Lyle, perturbed. “I’m not a mental-case, if that’s what you’re after.”

“Liar,” said Vess, still smirking. “We’ve all got skeletons in our closets; those little demons we try to keep quiet as we pretend to be normal. Did you used to fantasize about having sex with your mother? Is that what you’re hiding up there?”

“That’s enough, Vess,” said Lyle, more fervent now. “Back off with the Mom-talk, I’m serious.” He glared at his new employer, and Vess halted. The pale scientist smirked and nodded, but didn’t say anything. “What is it? Why are you looking at me that way?”

“It’s just that I’ve always found people’s fears fascinating, that’s all. Most people’s issues can be traced back to their parents. It’s part of the human condition, I guess. What about your father? What was he like?”

Lyle cringed and shook his head. “Nothing special.” He hadn’t been close to his father, but he would never forget the man’s final few weeks as the formerly tall, robust man had succumbed to polio. He’d been forced to lie in an iron lung for several tortuous months before he passed. Lyle was haunted by how his father had gone into the machine looking strong and thick, but when they pulled his body out he’d wasted away to nearly a skeleton. In his casket, his father had been draped in an old suit of his that had once been snug, but now hung from his skeletal shoulders. “He died when I was young. Why? What’s it matter?”

“Nothing to be concerned about, my good man. Nothing at all,” said Vess.

“You’re a peculiar sort,” said Lyle as he stuck his thumbs beneath his suspenders and wandered to the edge of the ship. The ledge was high, but he was able to look out into the greenish water of the bay. “Before today, I thought you were all hot air.”

“Did you?” asked Vess. An emerging tickle turned into a cough, and made his question sound malicious, though he hadn’t
intended it to be. He hacked, the force causing his back to arch, and then wiped his lips with a handkerchief pulled from an inside pocket of his blazer. “Then why did you accept the job?” he asked after recovering from his fit.

“I’m not the sort of guy that can afford to turn down a paycheck. Especially now that I’m not gambling no more.”

Vess leaned against the rail, his arms draped over the edge as he watched the gulls spinning above the bay. “I wouldn’t think an able-bodied chap like you would have trouble getting work, what with most gents at war and all.”

“Able-bodied?” asked Lyle with a laugh. “Why do you think I’m not fighting Japs in the Guadalcanal?”

Vess glanced at Lyle curiously. The stout man was shorter than Vess, but sturdy, with strong arms and a thick chest. He bore no visible signs of illness or anything that would make it obvious why he would’ve avoided conscription. “I thought you were an immigrant.”

“Me? No, sir. Born and bred in the fields of Kansas. My parents were immigrants, but I’m American-made.”

“Then how’d you dodge a trip overseas with the rest of them?”

Lyle tapped his barrel chest. “Got tuberculosis when I was a kid. Damn near killed me and drove my parents into poverty. My lungs ain’t never been the same. When I registered, they told me I’d never be allowed in with the rest of the boys, but that they’d stick me in with some pencil-pushing unit. Never got the call, though. Guess I lucked out. What about you? How come they didn’t snatch you up?”

“Who said they didn’t?” asked Vess with a smirk.

“You went to war? How’d you make it out?”

Vess shook his head and explained, “I’m not the sort of soldier that gets a gun put in his hands. There are other ways of killing people.”

Lyle became uncomfortable, and he started to try and figure out what Vess meant. “Science and stuff? Is that how you knew old crazy-hair back there?” He thumbed back at where they’d boarded the ship.

“You know the interesting thing about science?” asked Vess, as if almost entirely ignoring or avoiding Lyle’s question. “It’s just an attempt to explain the unexplainable. Science is like an adult, standing over our shoulders, reaching past us to help put a puzzle together that we can’t quite figure out. Trick is, no one’s sure about anything.”

Lyle expected Vess to continue, but the sickly man seemed content to stop there. “What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Lyle.

“Everything you believe to be true is just one discovery away from being proven wrong.”

Lyle stared at Vess and snorted in amusement. “If the military hired you to try and confuse folks, then they’re getting their money’s worth. You scientist fellows speak above my pay grade.”

Vess chuckled and pat Lyle on the back. “I’m no scientist, my friend. Not by any conventional definition at least.”

“No? I thought you were a science guy,” said Lyle, confused. “The way you were talking about that Tesla fellow earlier, I figured you were an egghead just like he was.”

“An egghead?” asked Vess, amused but mildly offended.

“No disrespect or nothing. I just don’t come from that stock.”

“Yes you do,” said Vess. “We all do. You can’t opt out of science, my man. It’s as much a part of you as the blood in your veins.”

Lyle snickered and shook his head, “You sound like the Baptist friends of mine, preaching your ‘truths’ and whatnot.”

Vess stared out at the gulls and said, “There’s no such thing as truth.”

“Well, you’re an odd chap, that’s a truth if ever there were one.”

Vess didn’t offer a retort.

“If you’re not a scientist, then what in the blazes are you? What are we doing here?”

The tall man looked down at his hands in contemplation for a few moments, and then glanced sideways at his companion. “I study other things,” said Vess. “Darker things.” Vess reached into his coat and pulled out a folded cloth that he handed to Lyle. “Be careful with that,” said Vess.

“What is it?” asked Lyle after taking it.

“Open it up,” said Vess as he reached back into his coat for something else. He pulled out what looked like the hilt of an ancient dagger, but the blade had long ago broken off.

Lyle opened the folded cloth and found a few pieces of jewelry. They were gold figurines that looked like they might once have fit on something larger. One of the smaller pieces was connected to a bracelet, and it was clear that it had been meant as a depiction of a pagan God of some sort. It had the body of a h
uman and the head of a snake. Its arms were long, and it was holding a staff that had been bent and misshapen over time.

“What are these?” asked Lyle.

“Those were given to a young boy as a gift,” said Vess. “Be careful with them. They’re quite old. They were given to the boy as a way of honoring him for his sacrifice.”

“
His sacrifice?” asked Lyle.

“Yes, that’s part of what I used to study. Not necessarily just human sacrifice, but all the ways mankind used to try and contact their deities.”
Vess regarded the bladeless knife, turning the old thing over in his hand to inspect the twine that wrapped the handle and the decorative skull on its pommel.