Cades Cove 01 - Cades Cove: A Novel of Terror (31 page)

David wasn’t so sure. After all, the ghost seemed quite confident in addressing him and Tyler as Billy Ray and Zachariah. Hoping to learn more, he read through the rest of the 1916 ledger, disappointed to find no other mention of either Allie McCormick’s disappearance or the Hobson brothers’ fate.

“
Well, I believe we now have enough information to work with,” said John, glancing at his watch once David finished examining the 1916 ledger. Just after 6 p.m. “Diane should have the preliminary work done by tomorrow morning. I’ll call her first thing and give her the names of Allie’s parents as well as the Hobson brothers. I think it might be interesting to find out what became of them too.”

David felt reluctant to stop searching for more information, but realized the likelihood of finding more gems was remote. After John secured the ledger holding the 1916 Mother’s Day documents in a small safe located in the back of the building, they closed and sealed the boxes and then returned them to the storage shed. David thanked him again for all of his help, and they agreed to touch base Wednesday morning.

On the way back to Gatlinburg, David changed his return flight home from his cell phone to the following Sunday afternoon. He hoped this gave John Running Deer’s census contact in Knoxville enough time to get him the names of Allie’s relatives.

Next, he called his aunt in Chattanooga, and after explaining his business trip now extended through the weekend, they made plans for lunch on Sunday before his flight to Denver. That left Miriam and his search for another place to stay through Saturday night. Since already near Gatlinburg, he grabbed a bite while looking for a vacant hotel room on the strip. He planned to call her once he settled in for the night, updating her on all that happened today.

***

The Whitestone Motel had the only vacancy on Gatlinburg’s strip. Since it sat on the side closest to Pigeon Forge and furthest from the park, David reserved it for just three nights, hoping to get something closer on Friday afternoon.

Built in the early 1960s and named for its stone façade, the motel looked like it hadn’t been remodeled since. David checked into his room on the first floor shortly after eight o’clock, near the far end of the building where the parking lot bore numerous potholes. Greeted by the smell of stale cigarette smoke and mildew when he stepped inside his room, at least the bed linens and towels appeared clean. Mold encroached along the edges of the bathtub and sink. The room’s overall condition affirmed why the innkeeper seemed eager to reserve it for three nights. He wondered how a motel like this survived when it wasn’t peak season.

“
Hey, babe, it’s me.” He held an old rotary telephone receiver pressed tightly against his ear. The room had two double beds, and his luggage lay open on the bed closest to the door while he stretched out on the other bed next to the bathroom.

“
I’m still in Gatlinburg, so let me give you the number where I’ll be the next few nights.”

“
What’s wrong?” Miriam sounded alarmed. “I thought you were going to Chattanooga tonight and would be flying home tomorrow!”

“
I know… me too,” he told her. “But, Allie Mae had other ideas. I found her bag waiting on my nightstand when I woke up.”

“
What??!”

“
I know, darlin’, I know…that’s how I felt this morning,” he said, his tone soothing. “But, John Running Deer, the ranger I told you about last night, helped me find out who she was today. Her name was Allie McCormick, and he has a friend who can hopefully help us track down her relatives. John thinks it could help her find peace.”

“
I don’t know if that will work.” It sounded like she tried to cover the receiver so he wouldn’t hear her sniff. “I still think you need to take the damned thing back where we first saw it, to that tree in the ravine!”

“
John told me yesterday they get a lot of stuff taken from the park each year,” he said. “Returning an item to the original spot it was taken from doesn’t have much affect one way or another on the hauntings people experience. He even offered to take the bag there for me when I left it with him yesterday, and you’d think the spirit knew that too. Obviously, there’s something else she’s after, and it makes sense she’d want me to find the rightful heir to the bag.”

“
I’m still not convinced.”

“
There were a couple of other things we learned today,” added David, hoping to get her to agree with him. “The locket has a faint inscription that says it was given to Allie Mae on her sixteenth Christmas back in 1915. And the boy named in the letter, Seth Sullivan, showed up on a list of young men in a church ledger who died in World War I back in 1918.”

“
That poor girl….”

“
Yeah.” The image that popped into his mind definitely wasn’t the one in hers. He pictured Norm’s violated corpse pleading not to forget what she did to him. “So, is everything okay at home?”

“
Jan and I went over to the house today,” she said. “It might be safe to move back this weekend, but I want Sara to visit first to make sure.”

“
Nothing’s happened in the townhouse or anyplace else, I take it?”

“
No, nothing has.” A moment of awkward silence followed. “So, when are you coming home?”

“
I changed my return flight to Sunday, and I’ve already set a lunch date that afternoon with Auntie,” he said. “John thinks it might take until the weekend to find Allie’s relatives. Hopefully, it’ll all be finished by the time I check out of here on Friday, and maybe I’ll drive down to Chattanooga and spend a day or two there.”

“
I miss you so much, David….” Her voice sounded hushed and lonely.

Miriam took down the address and phone number of the Whitestone Motel before she hung up, leaving him to listen to a crackling dial tone indicative of the motel’s aged phone lines. To keep his mind distracted, for the next few hours he worked on the Applewood reports, finishing half of them. By then it was almost midnight. After the unexpected visitation from Allie Mae last night he decided to leave the TV on low and faced it toward the door, providing just enough light for him to see the room’s entirety. With the covers pulled up to his chin, he stared at the clock on his nightstand. An aqua-colored monster from when the motel first opened, the minute hand crept slow, tracking the time from 12:10 to 12:37 a.m. when he dozed off.

Chapter Twenty-nine

“
M-m-u-u-r-r-der-r-r-er-r-r!”

David opened his eyes, awakened by the whisper that passed over his face. The room completely dark, not even the parking lot lamps’ glow penetrated the murkiness. He noticed the curtains’ unusual thickness when he turned up the heater before retiring, assuming it was the motel’s way of compensating its guests for the sparse insulation. At least one couldn’t be bothered by any car or truck lights coming in late, as most of the motel’s patrons seemed to be in the long-haul transportation business.

The television blank and silent, he couldn’t even make out its outline. The heater’s comforting hum also absent, it left the room in a hostile stillness. Suddenly the sound of a deep sigh filled the air above the space between the two beds. Something floated there.

He raised himself, fully aware of his distinct disadvantage against whoever was here with him. Peering into the darkness where the sigh came from, he reached for the lamp switch next to his bed.

“
Don’t do it!”

The feminine voice surreal, the accent and the fact it sounded both near and far was familiar.

“
Allie Mae?”

The air around him already chilled from the lack of heat, it now grew even colder. The presence drew near to him. A brilliant blue eye appeared, aglow in the darkness less than a foot away. The eye especially beautiful, it squinted. Perhaps scrutinizing him, or more likely, its owner was seriously pissed.

“
What do you want from me?” he asked, trying to remain calm but terrified, finding it impossible to control the unsteadiness in his voice.

The eye moved closer, and as it did he became aware of a soft gurgling sound, which reminded him of the tiny streams he used to find in the mountain valleys of Colorado. Cold drafts of air brushed against his face as the eye came within a few inches of his own eyes, as if the head shrouded by darkness positioned itself to kiss him. The smell of raw meat filled his nostrils. He pushed himself back against the bed’s headboard.

“
To take back what you’ve stolen,” the voice replied, softer and almost normal, erupting from the gurgle noise and sending an icy spray upon him. “And kill the wicked seed once and for all!”

“
I didn’t steal your bag of treasures, and I’ll happily give it back!” He clutched his bedspread tightly and shrunk away from the eye, the smell, and the gurgling. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right!”

“
It’s too late to give it back,” replied the garbled voice, sending forth another spray of chilled droplets onto his face. David cringed in response and closed his eyes. “It’s too late to give back
my
life, Billy Ray-y-y-y!”

A splash of icy liquid against his throat and T-shirt emphasized the fervency of this last statement. Ever fearful, he opened his eyes. Another eye as grotesque as the first eye lovely had since joined it. Its mutilated cornea and iris glowed as a ruptured mass of fire and blood within the torn edges of the socket.

“
I’m
not
Billy Ray! My name’s
David!!”
he shouted.

“
Ya are what ya are and always will be, Billy Ray-y-y-y!” the voice hissed in anger. “Ya’ll and yer seed have killed and taken whatever ya’ve pleased! But, no more!! There ain’t no more hidin’ from yer sins!!!”

“
No, you’ve got the wrong guy! I’ve
never
done
anything
to you
—
”

“
M-m-m-u-r-r-r-der-r-r-er-r-r!!”

He threw up his hands to protect himself as she shrieked her condemnation over and over, the echo resounding loudly throughout the room before returning to where he lay huddled against the headboard. Iciness gripped the base of his bed and steadily moved up toward him, chilling the bones in his feet, legs, and thighs as it touched him. Out of the darkness the two eyes suddenly looked up at him from his waist, revealing the entity now caressed his body like a famished lover, moving from his feet to his genitals and on up to his face. He whimpered in horror as something cold, wet and slimy crept inside his shirt toward his throat.

Screaming in terror, he slapped at himself, falling out of the bed. He grabbed the nightstand, pulling the top drawer out while groping for the lamp’s pole. A pair of frigid arms embraced him from behind, and even icier hands pinched his nipples. Coldness beyond anything he’d ever known flowed through him from behind, freezing his lungs to where he couldn’t breathe. He began to pass out. The last thing he remembered, turning on the light switch.

David awoke lying on the floor between the two beds. The nightstand lamp on, his head throbbed worse than any migraine he could remember. He groggily stood up and moved over to the clock, which still faced his bed. It read 3:38 a.m.

After replacing the nightstand’s drawer in its slot and checking to make sure the heater still worked, he set the thermostat and blower on high and went into the bathroom. He intended to splash water in his face and take something for his pounding headache. But when he looked in the mirror, he could only stare at his reflection.

His face and T-shirt were covered with blood.

Chapter Thirty

Tired and feverish, he headed back to the park Wednesday afternoon. Finding it hard to keep his eyes open while he navigated the highway slick from steady rain, the previous night’s events remained fresh in his mind. David found himself reliving his first verifiable physical contact with the spirit of Allie Mae McCormick.

His first shower an act of squeamish determination, he forced himself to withstand scalding water for almost fifteen minutes. Once thoroughly cleansed of the blood and other yellowish fluid he tried not to think long about, he placed his bedclothes in a dry-clean bag from inside the dresser. As for the bed linens, they weren’t nearly as soiled as he expected, which made his later explanation to the innkeeper’s assistant of a sudden and severe nosebleed in the middle of the night believable.

Propped up in a chair between the door and window, he wrapped himself tightly in a spare blanket he took from the closet. The room’s temperature comfortable again, he kept the curtains pushed open and all of the lights on, waking every twenty to thirty minutes from the unsettling sensation of falling into a dark abyss.

By noon he had dressed and taken the soiled bed linens to the front office, tossing the dry-clean bag in a dumpster. He then drove to the local Shoney’s, sticking to the hottest items on the buffet bar. With three cups of coffee and another to go, he set out for a return trip to the Cades Cove visitors’ center.

David regretted not getting John’s phone number to make sure he’d be there. When he passed the wooden “Welcome to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park” sign, he opened his briefcase next to him to make sure the bag remained there. It did. He closed the briefcase and turned up the stereo, thankful for the clear signal from a classic rock station in nearby Knoxville.