Black Water Tales: The Secret Keepers (38 page)

Regina was startled into awakening by a thud. She swiped away the last clouds of sleep in her eyes and cased the living room. Her gaze went to the ceiling where she thought she heard the noise, but she was immediately jolted again by a crackling of thunder and was not sure whether what she had heard was the shifting of the old house, the roaring of thunder, or just a spontaneous noise that had originated deep in her REM. To her disappointment, the morning had still not come and judging by the look of the deep sea night sky out of the living room window it was not even close. Again, she lifted the phone in the unfounded hope that she would hear a dial tone, a lifeline to someone else in the world, but again she heard nothing and replaced the phone on the hook. Regina turned off the heater, gathered her clothes, and made her way toward the darkened stairs. She inhaled sharply as she exited the living room, realizing that the heater had, in fact, only warmed that one room of the house and the rest of the home felt like a meat locker on the coldest day of winter. Regina entered her room without bothering to turn on the light and threw her clothes into the hamper that her mother had placed in the closet for her. She stripped off her
underwear and showered before returning to her bedroom, where she flipped on the bedside lamp and began to dig into her messy black suitcase for something comfortable. A pair of cotton tights was the winner along with an oversized sweatshirt that boasted the name of the college she attended. The bed was soft and warm as she went through the ritual of stretching and retracting her legs all over the sheets to feel the coolness of their surface on her bare feet. Regina nuzzled her head into the pillow and spied a splash of color in the form of an envelope that sat, propped against the mirror on her vanity and she could see her name was scribbled across the front of the canary yellow envelope.

R
egina threw back the comforter and stepped out of bed, she found it difficult to keep her legs from giving out under her as she made her way across the room. She held the envelope up and read and re-read her name several times putting off opening the letter for as long as she could. When she could not justify reading her name one more time she turned the envelope over and pulled out a thin piece of matching yellow paper, unfolded it and began to read.

Dear Regina:

I have Nikki. I have to see you tonight at the DeFrank estate, midnight. No police, if you call them, I will know and another one of your friends will die because of your lack of courage and heart
.

The words hit Regina like a diesel truck and the raging ocean of emotions overflowed the sea walls in a destruction that was silent, like a disaster watched through the lens of a soundless camera. Lola died because of Regina’s inaction and this person knew that. Regina sank into the chair that was parked in front of her vanity, crumbling the piece of paper into her chest and through the despairing tears, a crafty smile etched itself into her face. Tonight would be the night that it would all end, when she would walk out of the destroyed gates a free woman.

Her eyes traveled to the clock on her nightstand and she took off down the hall when she saw that it was already 11:30 p.m. She thundered down the stairs and began pulling on her black boots. Outside she could hear that the storm was still tearing through the town of Black Water. Every move she decided to make, she second-guessed, her mind was racing, but no one was winning. She was confused, anxious, and almost delirious. One of her first thoughts was to leave a note on the refrigerator, but in the next moment, she changed her mind and headed toward the phone in the living room. Regina thought it would be worth it to give it one more try;
she pressed the receiver to her ear and her hope melted in the silence that hung heavy at the other end of the phone. She banged the phone into the end table in a rage before dropping it to the floor and sprinting into the kitchen. The contents of the drawers rattled as she wrenched them open and closed until she found the marker. Regina licked the sleeve of her sweatshirt and used the moisture to erase the note from her parents that was scribbled on the little white board; she then wrote a message to them praying that they would come home soon.

Please Help. Call the police. DeFrank estate. I love you, Regina
.

Taking a moment to stand back, she marveled at the message and the power of those three words in light of the fact that she may never say them again. Regina went back to the drawer and pulled out a sharp blade, she shoved it into her bag and thrashed out of the house barely securing the door behind her. At full speed, she charged through the storm that raged all around her. Regina jumped in the car, started the engine, and snapped the door closed. She shifted the gear into reverse, floored the gas and the car shot out of the driveway like an ill-aimed rocket. The car hydroplaned into the street and she jammed her foot into the brake, causing the tires to squeal. Regina screamed as the reckless car spun more times than she could count before coming to an abrupt stop without hitting anything around her. Dumbfounded, Regina sat in the car with her eyes focused straight ahead.

I’m OK. I’m OK
. She found herself chanting almost silently when she realized that she had not been broken to pieces in a potentially cataclysmic collision. She reminded herself that it didn’t matter how fast she got to the DeFrank estate if she arrived in several pieces. The irony of the thought became immediately apparent and she cringed before proceeding to straighten the car on the road. The clock on the dashboard read 11:38 p.m.

The letter instructed her to come alone, but she reasoned that may not be exactly the case; besides, the letter identified cops specifically and Natalie was no cop. Surely, whoever did this knows that Natalie was the direct cause of Lola’s death and she should have been invited to this creepy rendezvous as well. Regina would
be coming up on Natalie’s house momentarily and would give her no choice, but to attend.

Natalie’s house stood tall and forbidding, but Regina had precious little time to be in awe at the overall creepiness of it. She ran up the walkway and banged on the door; the fact that it was the middle of the night or that someone may be disturbed from their restful sleep did nothing to deter her. The time had come for them to reap what they had sewn and Natalie had every right to be present at the harvest. Regina released another series of wild bangs on the door.

“Natalie,” she screamed with her mouth at the door. She ran to the window where she peered in, but saw nothing move. Regina instinctively held her hands to her ears as thunder rang out and a flash of lightning brightened the sky and her mind illuminated with a single thought; the rose trellis. Regina lit off the porch and ran toward the side of the house and there it was.

“Natalie!” Regina howled.

The trellis that was attached to the side of Natalie’s house had once been overgrown with luscious blooming red roses, but was now swallowed in a tangle of thorny vines. Regina hesitated, she had not climbed the trellis since she was a child and though she was far from obese she shuddered at the thought that the fence may not be able to hold her grown-up weight or that the wood had become weak or rotted and she was especially frightened at the thought that she may not figure it out until she was halfway up.

Natalie was awake; the light in her room was on.

“Natalie,” Regina yelled once more before she decided that everything was a risk at this point and leapt unto the wooden structure. Regina placed her hand up as far as she could grasp and began to climb. Drops of water pelted her face as she continued a climb that was much harder than she remembered. She was doing well until one of her feet slipped as a piece of rotted wood broke from the trellis. Regina screamed out, but regained her composure and navigated her foot blindly until she secured a solid position for it. Blood began to run from the wounds that splinters and thorns were digging in her palms. When she made it to the top she
swelled with the pride of one who had conquered Mt. Everest. She peered into the glowing room, but was unable to make out much more than basic shapes and colors. Excessive sheets of rain blurred the view, but every time she swept water away, there was more to fall effortlessly into its place. When Regina saw that the room was empty she banged her fist against the pane, but nothing inside of the home stirred. Natalie was not there. Her eyes widened with disbelief when she was able to make out the distinct yellow color on Natalie’s desk. It was the same yellow paper that Regina had found in her room not an hour before.

The clock on the dashboard read 11:55 p.m. She rushed through town, passed the police station and onto I-48. The windshield wipers whipped back and forth like the finger of a parent forbidding a “no-no.”

Regina leaned into the windshield for a better visual of the road. Her thoughts never veered far from Natalie. Soon she turned off onto Culliver Parkway and began down the stretch that would take her to the DeFrank house.

Headlights burned in her rearview mirror as someone came around the curve behind her. Regina drove faster performing routine checks in her rearview mirror. The headlights were much further behind her now, but she was no less terrified.

Despite the weather she knew that the turnoff for the DeFrank house was coming up and though the DeFrank Estate was the last place on earth that she wanted to be she was relieved to be getting off the abandoned road and away from the car that was somewhere far behind her.

The gates to the DeFrank property were open and she drove in smoothly. The many trees on the property filtered the torrential rain causing it to come down in a soothing spray. Before Regina was halfway down the drive she could see that the windows of the house were illuminated, offering a perverse welcoming.

Regina stepped out of the car and prepared for the rest of her life, which depending on who was inside and why, may not be a very long time at all.

As she stood in front of the house she rested her hand on the butcher knife that was hidden in her bag, but the act was of little comfort. The porch stairs threatened to crumble under her heavy boots. One of the front double doors was open a crack and Regina grasped the crystal handle and walked into the foyer of the home of decaying magnificence. Each room was lit with candles and offered more a feeling of romantic rendezvous than impending doom. Several candles sat atop the old piano.

“Hello?” Regina’s voice echoed endlessly throughout the rooms and she immediately scolded herself for sounding so ridiculous, but nothing more logical to say had come to mind. Regina stepped into the piano room, it was warm with candle fire and the scents from the different candles produced a gruesome floral aroma. Regina gagged and escaped the room before it became impossible for her to hold her insides.

“I’m here,” she shouted, her voice repeating itself as it bounced off of the walls. Regina waited, but still no one answered her. She gripped the handle of the knife through the bag like a security blanket. With one hand against the wall and the other parked on top of the knife in her bag, Regina crept along the hall toward the study. When she reached the door, she poked her head in cautiously to ensure that the room was empty before she stepped inside. On the far wall next to the bookshelf was a collage of newspaper articles, some about the explosion at Waterford and the rest documented strange occurrences, disappearances, and murders in Black Water. Regina saw a newspaper article that referenced the same girl whose posters she had seen at the police station, Nikki’s mother and the death of Glen DeFrank, she pulled off several and studied them carefully. Regina crumbled them and threw them to the floor. Only Eden would have dug up all of these old clippings to try and prove her theory. Bangs on piano keys made her heart jump as the noise trumpeted through the house; she spun around quickly pressing her back up against the wall. Unmethodical strikes on the piano keys made the instrument give ugly howls and Regina’s heart jumped with every harsh note. She blew out the candles in the study and pulled the knife from her bag. The
gleam swam from handle to tip as she admired it under the moonlight. She made sure the hall was clear before she stepped out of the darkened room and she tiptoed through the oversized dining room taking precautions with every step to be unnoticed and unheard. The house had been silent for several seconds when Regina made it back to the piano room where the piano sat innocently. The room of music was devoid of life despite the fact that the lit candles bathed the room in parading shadows.

“Eden” Regina yelled. “I’m here. Tell me what you want.” She took a chance on the identity of her stalker. On the second floor, there was a tumbling and Regina raced up the long flight of stairs before Eden had a chance to disappear again, but she was too late. Up there nothing was lit by anything but the faint moonlight coming from the window at the end of the stretching hall. Rain still sprayed the house, but the storm had begun to die down.

“Natalie,” Regina tried another suspect, but still received no response. Sensing something behind her, she ducked swiftly into a room and waited for her anxiety to pass. It felt as if several people slipped in and out of the numerous rooms of the enormous house. Her heart pounded so hard that it could have cracked open her chest, she could have dropped to the floor right then, died, and it would not have come as a surprise.

Regina sprinted through the hallway to the room that was just on the other side of the hall and she closed the door behind her.

“Nikki,” she whispered into the dark room. All she wanted to do was find her friend and get out of this house. The room was empty and she snuck back into the hallway with the knife still gripped tightly inside of her palm.

After a fruitless search, Regina came to the entrance of the last room on the second floor, the very last door at the end of the hall. Just as she pressed the wooden door open with one hand lightening flashed through the house and she gasped, startled to see so many eyes on her. Hundreds of inhuman eyes burned deep into her as if they were trying to steal her soul straight from her chest. Dolls, there were dolls everywhere, on the shelves, the dresser,
even on the floor crowded around the majestic canopy bed. This was Eden’s room, the room was black between the flashes of light, but she recognized the gray dress of the girl that lay sleeping on the bed.