Island of the Forbidden (16 page)

Suddenly, the bell flew from the table, smashing into the empty fireplace. The EMF meter went in the opposite direction, shattering a window. The K2 meter and audio recorder were swept off the table, clattering to the floor.

“Holy shit!” one of the men shouted.

The table flipped end over end, bludgeoning Paul's shin. He flopped to the floor, holding his leg. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The heavy groan of timber being pressed to the breaking point reverberated throughout the old house. Nina looked up, expecting to see the beams of the ceiling come crashing down on top of them.

“Stop it now!” Nina shouted. One hand wavered over her head, a poorly conceived notion of protection should the room collapse.

Every chair in the breakfast room slid away from the table at once, a terrifying squeal of wood on wood.

“We have to get out of here,” Rusty said, already heading for the front door.

“Tobe, help me up,” Paul moaned.

The entire house shuddered. Nina lost her balance, slamming her shoulder into Mitch's camera, who yelped in pain as it bashed into his face. Something crashed in the kitchen.

“The plates!” Rusty yelled, pointing. “They're flying out of the cabinet.”

What the hell is going on here?
Nina's brain felt two sizes too big for her skull. Pressure within met with pressure from without. She prayed she'd black out before it got any worse.

Hell had broken loose, and she had no idea how to stop it.

“Jason! Alice!” Daphne cried.

Jessica, winded from carrying the children, shouted back, “Over here! Just follow my voice.”

Daphne stood waiting outside the pathway, her cheeks streaked with tears. Jessica dropped to her knees, letting the kids down gently. They slowly gathered themselves, walking calmly into their mother's waiting arms. Eddie stumbled behind her. His clothes were ripped in more places than she could count. Any exposed skin was camouflaged with dirt and blood. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, his face a mask of agony.

“We have to get you back to the house and clean you up,” Jessica said.

He waved her off. “I'll be all right. My head's already starting to feel better. I feel the same way I did when I tried to jump my bike over Mr. Arthur's car in seventh grade. That tumble back there felt awful familiar.” He tried to laugh but it came out as a stuttering cough.

She slipped an arm around his waist. A momentary flare-up of lightheadedness threatened to drop her back down to her knees but she fought it off. The kids had been a pair of dead weights. Carrying them had been no easy feat.

“Where did you find them?” Daphne said between kisses. The woman before them was a totally different person from the cool, calculating heiress they'd met just two days earlier.

Places like this change people, but it's usually subtle and over time,
Jessica thought.
I think Eddie and I have become a kind of accelerant, not to mention Alice and Jason. We have to get out of here.

Jessica said, “Luckily, they showed Eddie and me a little hiding place yesterday. I don't think they're hurt.”

Daphne inspected them from head to toe in the dusky light. The kids remained eerily silent. Jessica assumed they were in shock. She had no idea what they encountered in the clearing, but it wasn't good. What would turn the EB children against them?

Their mother gasped when she saw the state Eddie was in. “Oh my God, what happened to you?”

“I kinda took a fall. Nothing broken. I do want to change out of these clothes, though.”

It was slow going back to the house. At one point, Alice looked back at Jessica, her hand firmly in her mother's. Her clear, bright eyes harbored something gray and secret, the eyes of a child that had seen something not fit for an adult.

“Something's up with them,” Jessica whispered to Eddie.

“I can see it too,” he said. “I'll try probing a little after I've gotten my bearings back. To me, it's like they've been wiped clean.”

“If that's true, where did they go?”

The crash of glass gave them all a start as something sailed through one of the front windows.

“You all right if I let you go?” Jessica asked.

“I'll be fine. Go.”

Daphne said, “Kids, I want you to stay with Eddie. I'll be right back.”

Paul's curses spilled into the front yard. It sounded like a mosh pit had broken out inside the house.

“I'll go in first,” Jessica said to Daphne.

The glass knob turned in Jessica's hand the moment she touched it and was yanked from her grasp. The door flew open. Rusty stood poised to run, shouting when he saw Jessica in his way.

“It's all gone to shit,” he said, breathless.

Jessica pushed past him.

The mayhem stopped. Whatever forces were at work laying waste to the house turned off as quickly as flipping a light switch.

Tobe was crouched over Paul, who was in obvious pain. Mitch was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, rubbing an eye that looked like it would have one hell of a shiner.

Nina crouched in a corner, her hands clasped over her ears like a frightened child on the Fourth of July.

The sound of a glass rolling off a table and splintering on the floor broke the silence.

Jessica stood over the psychic.

“Too much to handle?”

Nina uncovered her ears, a tremor running through her hands. “I think they're still here.”

“They're always here,” Jessica said. “And now it's too late to just walk away. We're going to have to finish what you started.”

She left the house to get Eddie and the kids.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Renae Rudd was shutting down her computer when the front door chime buzzed. She heard the agency's administrative assistant, Kathy, talking to a man. It was almost five. She'd promised Steve grilled marinated steaks, her garlic and herb mashed potatoes and fresh green beans she'd picked from her garden. Stevie Junior was working at Taco Bell tonight, so they had the house all to themselves. She prayed Kathy would send the man to Phil or Dottie. They still had another hour to go.

“Sure, you can talk to Renae,” she heard Kathy say to the man.

Dammit.

This was the one time she didn't want the honor of being agent of the month. Aside from a cash bonus and several free lunches, the other perk was getting first crack at new potential buyers. Normally, that was just fine with her.

She could practically smell those steaks.

Renae shuffled her briefcase under her desk and did her best to put on her game face.

A slight, older man walked into her office. His wiry, gray hair was in need of a brush, and possibly some shampoo and water. He had beautiful, cobalt eyes, but she could see instantly that there was something strange at work behind them.

She stood up to meet him. Unless he was some eccentric with a stash of money, she didn't see a sale in this one.

“Are you the one that sold the Ormsby House?” he asked, casting aside all formalities.

“Excuse me?”

“The house on Ormsby Island. Are you, or are you not, the woman who sold it.”

Uh-oh, we have a crazy. Good thing Phil is still in the office.

She pasted on a smile. “I'm sorry, if you were interested in the island and the house, it was sold a little over a month ago.”

“I don't want the damn island,” he hissed. His eyes flicked to the doorway. He'd spoken low enough not to attract any attention. “I need to know who you sold it to.”

Renae remained standing. She didn't want the man to have any advantage over her. She had to find a way to calmly get him out of the office.

“Unfortunately, I can't give out that information,” she said. “I have to respect the privacy of the new owners.”

“You shouldn't have sold it. You like damning people to hell? Sometimes, there are more important things than a fucking commission.”

This time, he did raise his voice. Renae spied Kathy as she peeked into the office. She hoped the girl was smart enough to get burly Phil.

“I'm sorry, I don't understand. Are you a relative of the previous owner?”

He wagged a gnarled finger at her. “I know who you are. You should have been smarter than that. You're not some outsider. You know all about that place. Ormsby Island should have been burned and demolished. No one would listen to me. So it sat there, waiting for some greedy bitch to pawn it off to someone else.”

That got her blood boiling. The
b-word
had always been a trigger for her anger.

“Now look here, sir, I don't need to take that kind of nonsense from you. Despite what you said, you don't know me, and I'd appreciate it if you got out of my office.”

The man began walking in a tight circle, growing more and more hysterical. “I saw it! I saw it with my own eyes! That place is a tomb. A giant tomb. You don't send people to live in a tomb. Especially one where the dead aren't dead. Fucking morons. Goddamn, fucking, ass-eating morons!”

Phil's tall and wide girth filled her doorframe.

“Okay pal, time to go,” Phil said, reaching out for the man's arm.

“Don't you touch me!”

Kathy and Dottie stood behind Phil.

“Kathy, call the police,” Renae said.

“The police?” the man cried. “You think the police are a threat?” He gave a short, frantic laugh.

“We don't need the police if you'll just come with me,” Phil said.

Dottie brushed the big man aside. “Peter?” she said.

The older man stopped his pacing, his entire demeanor relaxing in an instant.

“Peter, we all need you to calm down. Okay? I'll even get you a cup of coffee if you want.”

He looked at her with pleading eyes. “She shouldn't have done it. You know that. She shouldn't have done it.”

Holding his hand, Dottie walked him out of Renae's office. “It's all right Peter. It's all right. Everyone's fine.”

Renae, Phil and Kathy watched her pour the man a cup of coffee, talk quietly for a minute or so and walk him out the door.

“What the heck just happened?” Renae said.

Kathy replied, “I have a new nickname for Dottie. She's now the Crazy Whisperer.”

“You okay?” Phil asked.

Renae nodded. “I'm fine. What a way to end the day, huh?”

When Dottie returned, Renae waved her into her office. “You know that guy? I thought he was going to attack me.”

Dottie gave her a sad smile. “That was Peter Montgomery. He's harmless. I hadn't seen him in about ten years. Time has not been kind to the man. Poor soul.”

Renae waited for her to expand on the idea that a lunatic was a poor soul.

“We went to high school together. He was always a bright guy. We even worked on the school newspaper. There was a time I'm pretty sure he liked me, but I guess he never got the courage to ask me out. I would have said yes.” Dottie sat down, her gaze lingering on something in her past.

“What happened to him?”

Dottie sighed. “He landed his dream job as a reporter for the Charleston Journal News right out of high school. We kind of lost touch after graduation, but I read everything he wrote. I was so proud of him.

“When the massacre at Ormsby Island happened, the story was given to one of the more veteran reporters.” She said this in a whisper, as if speaking about what had happened over two decades ago could make it happen all over again. “I heard that Peter went to the island himself, after all of the police and press left. I guess he wanted to uncover something the others had missed. I don't know what he found, but when he returned, he was never the same again. Whatever he saw out there broke his mind clear in half. He lost his job, his fiancé, his car, everything. I hear he's spent most of his time in and out of institutions.”

Ranea sat back in her chair. “Wow.”

Shaking her head, Dottie said, “Yeah, wow. Look, I'm happy that you managed to sell what we all considered the unsellable. But I know something is very wrong with that island. It destroyed everyone who lived there. And it destroyed Peter. He just didn't want the same thing to happen to someone else. Unfortunately, he's no longer able to convey his emotions the way he used to. He won't come back. I made him promise me. You go on home and forget this ever happened. Maybe we're all wrong and whatever badness that lived on the island is gone. No news is good news, right?”

Dottie left and Renae jammed some papers in her briefcase.

Maybe we're all wrong,
Dottie had said.

Renae had never put much credence in the whole Ormsby Island mystique. She had to admit the place was as queer as a three dollar bill, but part of that was most likely all of her preconceived notions coming to the fore.

“No news is good news,” she muttered, getting into her car.

The phrase played in a loop in her head all through dinner and even while she made love to her husband in the kitchen of all places.

Lying in bed, she broke the loop with one simple thought.

What if it isn't?

Chapter Twenty-Nine

It took some time for Daphne to clean the children up, get them into their pajamas and cook something for dinner. They'd been so quiet through it all. Considering what had taken place in the house, she wondered what her babies had been through. Eddie promised he would do his best to find out for her. How he would do that she didn't know, but she trusted him. It pained her to think she couldn't say the same about her husband at the moment.

She was normally a stickler for making sure they ate healthy, but tonight was an exception. Getting treatment usually reserved for when they were sick, Jason and Alice were allowed to eat in bed, tearing into boxed macaroni and cheese, washing it down with glasses of soda.

“You both must have been starving,” Daphne said, collecting their trays.

Alice said, “Very.”

And that was it. Nothing from Jason, for whom she had to wipe gooey cheese from the side of his mouth.

“I need to talk to your father. Do you mind if Ms. Backman stays with you for a bit?”

Both children shook their heads, neither wary nor enthused by the prospect.

Daphne nearly bumped into Jessica in the hall. “Thank you for being with them. I don't want to leave them alone.”

“Trust me, I don't want to either. Do you have the key?”

Daphne shook her head dejectedly. “I searched all over. Tobe must have it. I'll get it from him now. How is Eddie?”

Jessica smiled. “He cleaned up good. Don't worry about us. This is what we do.”

Daphne didn't know the young woman long, but she could tell Jessica was stretching the truth. Was it for Daphne's sake, or her own?

She brought the trays into the kitchen, adding their bowls to a pile of dirty dishes in the sink.
I'm not cleaning these.
She dropped the flatware noisily amidst the plates and glasses.

Earlier, there had been a heated debate between Mitch and Rusty, the latter wanting to take the logical route and get off the island. Tobe had taken him to the boat launch, proving once again that they were stuck, for now.

An unwelcome embrace of claustrophobia squeezed harder around Daphne when she heard the boat still wouldn't start.

Everyone had gathered in the library. The house was a disaster. Tobe and Paul had done their best to pick things off the floor and clean up the broken bits of glass and ceramic. Everything was askew, including the furniture. She knocked on the library door.

Paul opened it. Rusty paced by the window, hands on hips. Mitch sat beside Nina, both looking worse for wear but calm. Tobe was still in his undertaker's outfit, leaning against the roaring fireplace, smoking a cigarette.

“Hey, sis, we were just talking about you,” Paul said.

She looked past her brother. There was no way she could speak to him at this moment and maintain any sense of civility. “Tobe, can you come outside for a minute?”

Her husband rolled his eyes, as if to say
see what I have to deal with?

“I'm really sorry about the house,” Paul said. “We had no way of knowing anything like this would happen.”

Needles of pain stung her jaw as she ground her molars together. “So does this mean you're stopping?”

He cast his eyes to the floor. “No. We may have just captured the footage of the century. We can't stop now.”

Tobe filed between them. Daphne stared at her brother for a moment, searching for the sensible, wandering soul she once knew. She left before he could say another word.

Her husband waited for her in the main dining room, far enough from the library so they couldn't be heard.

“You have to stop this,” she said.

He sighed. “Look, I know what just happened is a bit frightening. This has become bigger than us. We have an obligation to document everything we can. This could change the way people think about life and death.”

She turned her back to him, studying her distorted reflection in the window. “People will think you've faked it all. It's too much. No one will believe us. Just leave whatever is here
be
. Tell Paul to send up a flare and get some help so we can get off the island. I don't care about the money anymore. We'll find a way, or we'll just have to live different lives. It doesn't have to be the end of the world.”

His heavy footsteps came up behind her. He grasped her shoulders. “Nina thinks the ghosts have drained all of their energy. They won't be able to do that again, at least not for a long while.”

Her flesh cringed at his touch. “So you're comfortable leaving your children in a house filled with angry ghosts?”

“They're powerless.”

“You call what just happened powerless? I'm worried about Alice and Jason. They've barely spoken a word since we found them. Who knows what they saw out there?”

“They'll be fine. Maybe a little frightened for now, but they'll get over that faster than any adult.”

Daphne pulled free from his hands, turning to him. “Then I'll get the flare gun. At least I can take the kids out of here.”

He pursed his lips, walking to the other side of the room. “We don't have any flares. Paul thought they were on the boat, but they're not. If you want to flag someone down, you'll have to wait until morning.”

She felt her blood simmer.

Just one more night. Sleep in the kids' room and get them out at first light. Tobe and Paul can do whatever they want then. Maybe I'll make it hard for them to find us when they're done.

“We're leaving in the morning,” she said.

“I understand.”

She was about to storm away when she remembered Jessica's request. Jessica had told her there was a chance she and Eddie could put a real end to everything before Paul and his crew did more damage.

“I need the key to the bedrooms. Jessica and Eddie need access to the attic.”

He shook his head. “I can't let them go up before us. We're saving that for tomorrow.”

“You brought them here to help us.”

“As evidenced by everything around us, they've done exactly what we needed them to do. They don't want to be in the documentary, they don't get access to the attic.”

Daphne huffed. “So you think calling it a documentary gives it some gravitas? What's gotten into you? I know you have the key. Just give it to me so someone with an ounce of sense can find some answers.”

Tobe folded his arms. “No.”

“That wasn't a yes or no request. I have as much right to the key as you do. Give it to me.”

She stomped over to where he stood, her forehead inches from his cleft chin. Tobe remained still as a statue.

“Where is it? Your jacket or pants pocket?”

When he didn't respond, she reached into one of the side pockets of his suit jacket.

The stinging slap against her cheek whipped her head sideways. Her hand reflexively went to her burning face.

“I told you no,” Tobe said, barely above a whisper.

Daphne had no words. He'd never so much as hinted at touching her in anger before. She now understood what
stunned speechless
meant.

He left her as if nothing had happened. She heard the library door open and close. Acidic tears streaked down her face as she ran upstairs, hatred for her husband squeezing her heart so hard it was difficult to breathe.

Alice asked Jessica if she could have a glass of water.

“Sure, sweetie. I'll be right next door in the bathroom.”

When she left the room, Alice bounded into her brother's bed. He shot her a strange look. “They're right, the bad man
is
here,” he said.

“What do we do?”

“I don't know. The Last Kids will help us when the time comes.”

Alice sighed, wiping a tear away before it could fall. “I'm afraid.”

He held her hand. “We're supposed to be. Alexander can hurt us.”

“But do you really think he is—”

“I brought two glasses of water just in case,” Jessica said, returning to the room. “You two cuddling up to stay warm? I don't blame you.”

Alice wordlessly went back to her bed, accepting the drink and finding it hard to swallow.

“Trouble in paradise?” Nina mocked when Tobe rejoined the group.

“Just a case of second thoughts. Nothing to worry about. So, have you decided to start again?”

Mitch slapped his hands on his knees and rose from his chair. The bruised puffiness around his eye was getting worse by the minute. “I doubt we can top what we got earlier, but there's no reason to stop now.”

Rusty kicked an empty camera bag across the floor. “No reason to stop? How about we cut it out before someone gets really hurt, or even killed.”

Nina waved his concerns off with a dismissive flick of her hand. “No one in history has ever been killed by a ghost, not even that whole Bell Witch fable. Unless, of course, you get so scared you have a heart attack.” Her lips curled with a devious smile.

“When half the objects in a house are being thrown around, anything's possible,” Rusty said. He turned to Tobe. “Your wife and children are in the house now. Don't you care even the slightest about them?”

Tobe felt a wellspring of anger explode in his chest. He had to fight the urge to take Rusty by the throat and throttle him for all he was worth.

Instead, he kept his cool. “They're quite safe with Jessica and Eddie upstairs.”

“More than safe,” Nina chimed. “Don't let Eddie's
aw shucks
face fool you. There's no one on this planet that can do what he can.”

“Then why don't we ask him to make this stop?” Rusty said.

“That's not the point of this whole project, is it?” Mitch said. “If it stops, we have an incomplete film.”

“We have more than enough to shock the hell out of anyone that sees this.”

Tobe said, “Mitch is right, what we have is a fantastic start, but just think what else can come of this? And there's no reason why it can't be revisited again and again. We'll have a parade of debunkers and amateur ghost hunters paying to experience it for themselves.”

Putting his hand in his pants pocket, he felt the key that Daphne had asked for.
I don't want her to ruin our big reveal. I should hide it. God knows what's in that attic. It'll make a great scene, regardless. Attics and basements scared the piss out of people. If Jessica and Eddie don't want to take part, they can't go there.

While Rusty continued to debate with Mitch and Nina, he casually walked to the inlaid bookshelves and placed the key on the topmost shelf, pushing it back against the wall.

His fingertips still tingled from slapping his wife. He'd been just as surprised by it as she had, though his anger at her need to destroy their plans and future prevented him from expressing it. It was best he slept in one of the vacant rooms tonight. No apology would be enough. At least not yet.

“Fuck you, Mitch. I didn't sign on for this,” Rusty blurted.

“Actually, buddy, you did,” Mitch said.

Tobe noticed how Paul had stayed out of the heated conversation. He sat staring at the flames. He never had been one for confrontation.
Do I have to worry about him going turncoat too?

Mitch put a beefy, reassuring hand on Rusty's shoulder. “I see your point. We had no way of knowing it would be this wild. But we're all here and there's nowhere to go. So please, just help us. I don't expect you to agree with what we're doing or like it. All I ask is that you be the professional I've always known you to be. This will be over before you know it and your kids will have their college paid for.”

Rusty let out a long sigh, visibly collapsing within himself. Mitch was right. Even cocksure Tobe couldn't have said it any better.

Rusty strode to the other side of the room, grabbed his camera and stormed out of the library.

Nina rose from her chair and said, “Problem solved.” She ran her fingers through Paul's hair. “Come on Paul, Yule log time is over.”

He turned to her, the dancing firelight making it look as if the flames of hell had been stoked within his skull. Nina walked him out of the library, whispering something into his ear.

Mitch smiled at Tobe. “Ready for round two?”

Jason and Alice were just about asleep when Daphne poked her head through the doorway. “Do you mind sitting with them for another five minutes?”

Jessica, who had been sitting at the end of Alice's bed, said, “Take your time.” Daphne's eyes were red and watery. She'd definitely been crying. Her pale skin had lost even more of its color.
What happened to her?

“Thank you. I'll be right back.” She gently closed the door.

Jessica turned to Eddie. “Something didn't go well.”

“Nothing's going well.” He watched Jason turn to his side, hunkering deeper under the covers. He leaned forward and whispered, “All of the EBs are in the house right now. I'm guessing there are well over a hundred.”

Jessica rubbed her arms. “That must be why I can't get the hair on my arms to go down. I thought it might be because we're living in a freezer.”

Eddie nodded, his face dark, somber. “They're all here, on this floor, but they're staying out of this room. When Daphne opened the door, she was swallowed up by them. I actually had a hard time seeing her through their bodies.”

“Has that ever happened before—the dead superimposing over the living?”

“No. Then again, I'm with you. A day with Jessica Backman always brings surprises.” He made a feeble attempt at a grin. “We have to get to that attic. The EBs aren't saying anything, but I'm getting an overwhelming urge to go up there.”

Jessica stared at the closed door, wondering what it would feel like when she walked through, knowing she was wading through masses of the dead.

She said, “When Daphne comes back, key or no key, we're going.”