Ghost Light (44 page)

“You know,” the man said, still with a slight trace of good-natured humor in his voice, “I could’ve hit you if I’d wanted to.”

Cindy focused on his lopsided smirk as she slowly stood up and brushed the grit from her hands and knees. Beneath the shadowing brim of his hat, his eyes seemed to glow with an unnatural light. She glanced quickly over her shoulder at the camp door, wondering if she could get inside and lock the door fast enough to keep him out. Was there anything in the camp that she could use as a weapon? How could she get help out here? She knew the phone in the camp had been disconnected for the winter, and in an isolated place like this screaming wasn’t going to do her any good.

“Don’t even think about running,” the man said with harsh, grating malice in his voice. “You’re not gonna get very far
this
time.”

The more he spoke, the more Cindy became aware of something in his voice that struck her as… odd, almost familiar. In spite of the tornado of fear winding up inside her, she almost recognized the strange twang in his voice which wasn’t at all like the accents she had gotten used to hearing here in Maine. In fact, his accent reminded her quite a bit of the way people sounded back home in Nebraska. As if reading her thoughts, the man gazed directly at her and then, chuckling softly, slid his hat back to reveal more of his face.

“Christ on a cross, Cindy, don’t you even recognize me?”

The cold, steady gleam in his eyes transfixed Cindy. Her pulse was hammering high and heavy in her ears, so she almost didn’t hear anything he said, but as she stared long and hard at him, recognition—as impossible as it might be—slowly dawned.

Christ, no! How in God’s name can it be? It can’t be… him!

He had shaved his mustache and cut his long hair, but even with these few physical changes, no disguise could hide the pure hatred and violence she saw, shimmering like wildfire in Alex Harris’ eyes.

“No…
no
,” she stammered, her voice nothing more than a strangled whisper as she took a staggering step backwards. “How in the name of…? It can’t be…”

“Oh, but it is,” Alex said with a leisurely drawl as he shook his head up and down. Snickering, he took another arrow from the quiver and casually notched it on the bow string. “And now, by Christ, Cindy, I’ve got you right where I want you, you bitch!”

Still aiming at her, he tossed his head back, and the early morning stillness echoed with his spiralling, hollow laughter.

2

“O
h, no! …
No!
… Not
that
!”

Krissy’s voice was panicky as she sat bolt upright in the bed and stared wide-eyed at her brother who was standing beside her, hopping up and down as he pulled on his jeans. He tried to hide his surprise as he looked over at his sister.

“What’s the matter?”

“She… she said something to me… last night. She was here! … It was … it’s about—”

Krissy was cut off sharply when something suddenly slammed into the side of the camp with a loud bang and was instantly followed by a piercing scream that made both the children jump and look fearfully down the stairway leading to the living room.

“What the heck was
that
?” Billy asked.

“It sounded just like that sound last night,” Krissy said in a soft, terrified whisper.

“Yeah,” Billy said, looking back and forth between the stairway and his sister.

“Aunt Cindy,” he called out. “Are you all right?”

Bending at the waist, he picked up the shirt from where he had tossed it on the floor last night and slid his arms into it. His hands were shaking as he buttoned it up. He looked again down at the stairway when Krissy scrambled out from under the bed covers and hurriedly began to dress.

“What do you think’s going on down there?” Billy asked, fighting the slight tremor in his voice. He strained to hear, and shivered when he heard an outburst of loud laughter.

He jumped and let out a little scream of his own when Krissy spoke close beside him.

“I dunno,” she whispered in a soft, amazed tone of voice. “But
that
must have been what she was talking about last night.”

“Who? You mean Aunt Cindy?” Billy asked. He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled on a clean pair of socks and hurriedly laced up his sneakers.

Krissy was silent as she put on the same pair of jeans and sweater she had worn yesterday. Without another word between them, Billy started toward the stairway with his sister one step behind him. She held onto the back of his shirt like it was a lifeline.

The stairs creaked beneath their feet as they made their way downstairs. Halfway down, Billy could see that the camp was empty, but he was pretty sure from the muffled voices he heard that someone was out front.

Voices!

It wasn’t just Aunt Cindy talking to herself. Someone else was outside with her.

He paused at the bottom of the steps and looked fearfully back at Krissy. His first impulse was to tell her to go back upstairs and hide until he told her everything was all right, but his throat was so tight with tension he couldn’t speak. Turning slightly so he could grab her hand, they started, side by side, toward the front door. They were just coming into the kitchen when the camp door suddenly burst open, and Aunt Cindy stumbled into the entryway, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Go upstairs! … Quick! … Go hide!” she shouted between gasping breaths as she fumbled to lock the door.

Billy was immobilized with fright. He stood there, watching in stunned silence as his aunt dashed into the kitchen and started yanking open all the kitchen drawers, frantically throwing things in a clatter onto the floor as she searched for… something. At last, she pulled out a large, thick-blade carving knife and, spinning around on her heel, held it out in front of her just as the camp door burst open with a deafening explosion of splintering wood and breaking glass. The top hinge of the door pulled out of the jamb, and the door hung like a broken shutter. Billy turned around, amazed and unable to believe his eyes when he saw his father standing there in the doorway. In one hand, he held a bow and arrow. A crazed gleam lit his eyes.

“So
there
you are, you little son of a bitch!” his father said. He stepped forward and curled back his upper lip as though he wanted to take a bite out of him.

“Yeah, and your little sister, too!” his father said when his eyes lighted on Krissy, who was cringing behind her brother.

Too surprised and scared to respond, Billy took a staggering step backwards and bumped into Krissy, almost knocking her over. His first impulse was to turn and run—run away from this man who had made a habit of yelling at him and belting him around whenever he was in a foul mood—but Billy’s legs were locked.

“Hey, I’ll bet you never expected to see me again, now, did yah?” his father said, eyeing Billy narrowly. Billy couldn’t get enough air into his lungs to reply. His stomach tightened, and his leg muscles started vibrating.

“I said,
did yah
? I’ll bet you thought you were rid of me for good, huh?”

“Stay away from us,” Cindy yelled in a high, quaking voice as she waved the knife back and forth between them in a looping figure-eight. “Get the hell out of here! I already called the cops.”

“Like hell you have,” Alex snarled.

“Leave us alone! We don’t want any trouble!”

“You don’t want any trouble?” Alex said, tossing back his head and letting loose a wild roar of laughter. “So that’s it, huh? You
don’t
want any
trouble!
Well, if that’s the case—”

He took a few more steps into the kitchen but shied back, obviously wary of the blade Cindy had in spite of the bow he carried.

“If that’s how you feel, then maybe you shouldn’t have tried to
steal
my
goddamned kids
away from me, now, huh?”

He clenched his fist and shook the bow violently.

“I didn’t steal them,” Cindy said, her voice twisting up high and almost breaking. “My sister wanted me to have them, and they came… they came with me willingly because… because they’re afraid of you.”

“Yeah, well, they damned well
better
be afraid of me, because once I get ’em back home, I’m gonna whoop the friggin’ tar out of ’em! Out of
both
of ’em!” He turned and stared straight into Billy’s eyes, making the boy’s blood run cold.

“Tell me, boy. Is it true what she says?” his father asked, nailing him with a cold, angry stare. “S it true that you don’t want to stay with me?”

“I… I—” Billy’s lower lip began to tremble as he tried to speak, but the only sound he could make was a strangled stammer. Burning pressure was building up in his bladder, making him have to go pee real bad.

“Well…” his father said, letting a gruesome smile split his face, “we’re about to change all that, now, ain’t we, boy?”

Billy thought he had no control over his body, but his head started nodding up and down as though he was in complete agreement with his father.

“That’s right,” his father said, turning to Cindy. “You see that? He wants to be with his daddy. Don’t yah, boy? And his sister does, too. Ain’t that right?” He took a deep breath and indicated the door with a quick flick of his head. “Now, why don’t you and your little sister get your skinny butts outside while I take care of things in here, okay?”

“I’m warning you!” Cindy shouted. “The police are already on their way. Leave us alone!”

“You didn’t have time to call the police, and besides, I took the liberty of cutting the phone line. Stop trying to bullshit me.”

Billy’s gaze moved frantically between his father and Aunt Cindy. He was dimly aware that they were yelling at each other—just like his father and mother used to yell at each other—but their voices hardly cut through his raging confusion and fear. He felt riveted to where he stood, trapped as if someone had glued his sneakers to the floor.

“I’m warning you,” his father said. Billy watched in silent horror as his father turned to Aunt Cindy and jabbed his forefinger at her. “You fucked things up enough as it is, so you just keep your goddamned mouth shut, all right?”

He glared over his shoulder at Billy and saw that he hadn’t moved.

“And you, boy! Get your goddamned ass moving or I’ll kick it all the way back to Nebraska! My van’s parked up at the top of the hill. Go get inside it and wait. I’ll be along shortly.”

“The white van,” Krissy said in such a hushed voice that Billy almost didn’t hear her. “All along, it was you… she was warning me about
you
!”

“Billy! Krissy! Don’t do it! Don’t go!” Aunt Cindy shouted, taking a step forward as if to intercept him.

Then everything happened so fast Billy registered only a portion of it. Letting loose a wild scream, his aunt suddenly lunged at his father with the carving knife. As she brought it around in a vicious arc, the blade gleamed with a reflection of white light; but in a quick reflex move, his father brought the bow around like a baseball bat to block her. The bowstring whistled loudly, but the sound abruptly stopped with a loud
cracking
sound as Aunt Cindy cried out sharply and, leaning forward, clutched her left wrist to her side. The knife clattered to the floor, and his father stepped forward and kicked it away.

“Don’t try any shit with me!” he shouted.

“You bastard!” Aunt Cindy shrieked. “You goddamned bastard! You broke my damned wrist!”

“That ain’t all I’m gonna break,” Alex hissed, laughing.

Billy stood rooted to the spot as his father moved quickly forward, grabbed his aunt by the hair, and pulled on it so hard her head was thrown back, exposing her throat. He watched in horror as his father clenched and raised his fist, looking like he was a split second away from punching her in the face, but then he violently shoved her away from him. Aunt Cindy stumbled backward, scrambling to keep her balance, but collapsed in a heap on the floor amid the clutter of kitchen utensils she had thrown there.

In a controlled, almost lazy voice, his father turned to him and said, “Now why don’t you do what you’re told, and take your little sister up to my van and wait for me there?”

“Don’t hurt her,” Billy said in a ragged, breaking voice. “Please, dad, don’t hurt her! She never hurt you.”

Tears filled his eyes, burning as they ran down the sides of his face.

“Stop your goddamned crying, boy!” his father bellowed. “What, did she turn you into a little pansy or something?”

Billy stared back at his father, trying hard to stop the motions, but there was no way he could.

“Now, do what you’re told and get your ass out there!” his father shouted, but still, Billy couldn’t move. In two big steps his father was beside him, and like a stroke of lightning the flat of his hand smacked Billy in the side of the head so hard it made his teeth rattle. A high-pitched ringing sound filled his head, and e covered his ears with both hands as fresh tears owed.

“Fuckin’ pansy! Now do as you’re told! Don’t make me hit you again!” his father bellowed.

Dazed and blinded by tears, Billy reached behind him for his sister’s hand. Once he found it, he squeezed it tightly and started in halting baby-steps for the door, shying away from his father, expecting another slap. The last thing he heard as he walked through the shattered door was the strangled, whimpering sound his aunt was making deep in the back of her throat.