The Haunting of Emily Stone (18 page)

“Mummy's in there,” she whispered, looking back at the door.

“I'll find her,” he replied, getting to his feet and looking through the broken panels. Inside the room, a vast haze of blue light seemed to be bursting from a hole in the far wall, and he could just about hear a faint scream coming from inside. A moment later, he saw a faint silhouette on the floor, and he realized that Emily was down there, with her legs apparently partway into the hole in the wall.

“They're going to take her!” Lizzie shouted, as Douglas brought a duvet from the other bedroom and placed it around her shoulders.

“Hang on,” Robert replied, taking off his jacket and wrapping the fabric around his hand, before reaching through the broken door and fumbling for the handle on the other side. After struggling for a moment, he finally managed to get the door open. Stumbling into the room, he dropped his jacket as he stepped forward, and he immediately felt a blast of ice-cold air forcing him back.

“Mummy!” Lizzie shouted from the landing.

“No, wait!” Douglas hissed, holding her back.

Grabbing hold of the bed, Robert pulled himself forward. The air all around seemed to be shivering with the intensity of the blast coming from the far side, but he kept going, fighting every inch of the way until finally he reached Emily and was able to grab her hands. He shouted at her, telling her to follow, but he couldn't even hear his own voice above the immensely loud cracking sound coming from the far wall. Pulling as hard as he could manage, he was able to drag her away from the blinding light, but he stopped suddenly as he realized he could see another hand holding Emily's leg, trying to pull her back the other way.

“What the hell is that thing?” he whispered.

For a moment, he forgot all about Emily. Crawling past her, he took a closer look at the rotting, partially-decayed hand that was holding the woman's leg. After a moment, he realized he could see something beyond the arm too, as if the light was a door to another world. On the far side, there seemed to be a vast space filled with -

“Robert!” a voice called from over his shoulder.

Turning, he was just about able to make out the sight of Douglas at the door, reaching toward him.

Adjusting his grip on Emily's hands, Robert began to pull again, and this time he saw that the other hand was losing its grip. After a moment, he managed to get Emily all the way to the door and then out onto the landing, before reaching up and pulling the battered door shut.

“Mummy!” Lizzie shouted, falling onto Emily and wrapping her arms around her.

“What the hell is that thing?” Douglas asked, looking toward the door as the light started to fade.

“I saw it,” Robert stammered, as he saw Emily opening her eyes. “I swear to God, I looked right into it. I saw a whole other world through there.”

“What did you do?” Emily whispered, shivering as she began to sit up.

“It's okay,” Douglas told her, “you're -”

“Let me back in there!” she shouted, lunging past him and reaching for the door, before he pulled her back.

“Are you insane?” he asked, forcing her down to keep her from going into the room again. “Whatever's in there, it almost had you!”

“We made a deal!” she screamed, reaching toward the door as the light from the other side started to fade. “No! Come back! It's not my fault!”

“I'm going back in,” Robert said suddenly, hurrying to the door. “I have to see.” He pushed his way back into the room, but it was too late: the light had already dwindled away, and he found himself standing in darkness.

“What's not your fault?” Douglas asked, still holding Emily back. “Come on, talk to me!”

“We had a deal!” she shouted, with tears running down her face as the blue light finally dwindled away. “Come back!”

“What deal”? Robert asked, turning to her. “Emily, what are you talking about? What
was
that thing?”

“She wanted me!” she replied, her voice filled with anger. “Not Lizzie, she didn't care about Lizzie, she was only using her to get to me! We made a deal! She gave Lizzie back to me, and then I was supposed to let her come through to this world!”

“What is it?” Robert continued, stepping toward her.

“You don't understand, I just -”

“What is it?” he shouted. “For God's sake, just tell me!”

“Calm down,” Douglas hissed. “Robert, seriously. This can wait.”

“But Lizzie...” Turning, Robert saw the terrified expression on Lizzie's face. “Where the hell did you come from?” he asked her.

“The woman took her,” Emily explained, her voice trembling with fear. “She agreed to let her come back, but only if I let her take me in return and use me as her way through. I was willing to do that to save Lizzie, and you made me break my side of the deal! Do you know what that means? It means she'll come back and try again!” Lunging at Robert, she knocked him back against the wall. “Why did you have to interfere?”

“You were being pulled into that thing!” he spluttered. “You were up to your knees in whatever the hell it was!”

“I was willing to do that!” she shouted, before hearing a faint beeping sound from her leg. Looking down, she saw that her ankle-monitor was flashing.

“Why's it doing that?” Douglas asked. “Did you try to take it off?”

“No, but...” She paused. “My feet went through to the other side for a couple of minutes. It must have triggered the alarm, the police must have thought I'd left the house.” She turned to Robert. “Technically I
did
leave the house.
Now
do you believe me?”

“I...” He nodded, before looking toward the stairs as he realized there were police sirens approaching.

“That's them,” Emily continued. “They think I broke the terms of my release. They're going to take me away, and they'll never let me see Lizzie again. You have to help us!”

“This is insane,” Douglas muttered, sitting back. “It's way beyond anything I've ever experienced before.”

“Please,” Emily hissed, grabbing Robert's arm as the sirens came closer. “You have to help me!”

He stared at her for a moment, his mind racing as he tried to work out exactly what was happening.

“Please,” Lizzie whispered, still hugging her mother tight. The ice in her eyes had begun to melt, and finally tears were rolling down her cheeks.

“If you believe me,” Emily continued, “if you believe any of this, you can't let them take me away. Not now.”

He paused for a moment, before finally making a decision. “Wait here.” Turning, he hurried to the stairs and made his way down to the kitchen. As he heard a car pulling up outside and saw flashing blue lights at the window, he grabbed Douglas's toolbox and carried it back upstairs, before setting it down next to Emily.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I'm doing what you wanted,” he muttered, opening the box and pulling out a pair of industrial-grade shears. Slipping one of the blades inside the strap of Emily's ankle-monitor, he began to cut the device loose, finally managing to pull it away.

“You believe us?” Emily whispered.

“I believe you.”

A moment later, there was a loud knock on the front door.

“Then you have to help us,” Emily told him, as she pulled Lizzie tighter. “They'll take her away!”

“Stay here,” he replied, “and shut the hell up, all of you.”

Taking the broken ankle-monitor, he ran downstairs and hurried to the front door. On the other side of the frosted glass, two dark figures were bathed in the police car's flashing blue light. He took a moment to compose himself, frantically trying to work out what he was going to say, before pulling the door open.

“What the hell took you so long?” he shouted.

“Where's Emily Stone?” one of the officers asked, pushing past him and entering the hallway as the radio on his chest crackled into life.

“I think she went to the bus station,” Robert told him.

“We have to search the house first,” the other officer said.

“Didn't you hear me?” Robert asked, holding the ankle-monitor up for them to see. “She has her daughter with her! I tried to stop her, but she broke this off and took Lizzie to the bus station in town. I don't know where they're going, but if you don't get there soon, they'll leave! Shes' desperate, she might hurt the child!”

“Who are you?” the first officer asked.

“Doctor Robert Slocombe,” he replied, fumbling in his pocket before pulling out his wallet and holding up his university ID badge for them to see. “I had a hunch that Emily would be here, and I was right. I don't know how, but she's got her daughter, the girl who went missing from the care home. She's going to take her away, and she seemed suicidal.”

The officers glanced at each other, as if they weren't sure whether to believe him.

“She said it was hopeless,” Robert continued. “She said if they couldn't be together in this life, she'd take Lizzie away and do something to make sure they were together in the next. That's all I know, but please, you have to find her before she hurts her daughter.”

“How long ago did they leave?” the first officer asked.

“Just a few minutes ago.”

“And you're sure they were headed to the bus station?”

“I'm certain. Please, you have to find them before they get away. I think Emily's planning to do something to both of them.”

The officer paused for a moment, before turning to his colleague. “We'd better get there fast.”

“I'm calling back-up,” the other officer said, as they both headed to the door. “This is unit five, we need assistance at Coltreath bus station.”

“Stay here,” the first officer told Robert, grabbing the ankle-monitor from his hands. “Someone will be here to take a statement from you.”

“Just find them!” he shouted, hurrying to the door and watching as the officers made their way to their car. Nearby, neighbors had begun to emerge from nearby houses, watching the scene with open-mouthed shock. “Please!” he called out to the departing officers. “You have to find Emily Stone and her daughter before it's too late.”

As soon as the police car pulled away, he slammed the door shut and hurried back up to the landing, where Emily was still holding Lizzie tight and Douglas was sitting in absolute shock.

“We have to get moving fast,” Robert told them. “Doug, bring your car around to the back, we don't want the neighbors seeing us leave.”

“But -”

“Now!” he shouted.

As Douglas stumbled to the stairs and hurried down, Robert turned to Emily.

“It's okay,” he stammered. “I'm going to help you.”

“You should have let me do it,” she replied bitterly. “It would have been over by now!”

“There are other ways,” he told her, reaching down to take her hand and help her up. “We need to study whatever's happening to you.”

“It's more important to end it,” she pointed out, “and then to -” Letting out a gasp of pain as soon as she tried to put any weight on her ankle, she stumbled back and almost fell.

“I've got you,” Robert replied, grabbing her arm and holding her up. “Can you walk?”

“I think it's twisted,” she told him, starting to slowly limp forward. “Maybe I can -”

“You're too slow,” he continued, putting an arm around her waist and then picking her up. “Lizzie, go on ahead and open the back door.”

As the little girl hurried down the stairs, Robert began to carry Emily after her.

“You should have left it all alone,” she hissed at him. “Lizzie would have been safe by now. Instead, that thing's going to keep coming after us.”

“It's okay,” he replied, carrying her down to the hallway and then through to the kitchen. “I'm going to make sure you're both safe.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Twenty-four years ago

“That goddamn, lying, crooked bitch!” he shouted, turning and throwing his empty whiskey glass across the flat until it smashed against the far wall. “I should go back there right now and wring her neck!”

“Calm down,” Jenna replied, hurrying over to him and grabbing him by the shoulders. “Robert, I'm serious, you need to calm down
right now
, okay? You're going to hurt yourself if you keep this up!”

“What the hell do you know?” he asked, pulling away and heading over to the table, where he grabbed another glass and poured himself some more whiskey. “You have no idea how the fuck I feel.” He downed the whiskey in one go and immediately poured another. “It's the kid too, they're as bad as each other. I hope Joyce and Emily Stone rot in hell for all the lies they told.”

“You don't mean that,” she told him. “You're angry, you -”

“You bet I'm angry,” he snapped, knocking back another whiskey. “Want some of this?”

She watched as he refilled his glass, although his hands were shaking slightly and it was clear that he was way past the point where he might be persuaded to slow down.

“Rob,” she said after a moment, stepping closer, “I understand why you're angry -”

“They humiliated me,” he muttered, drinking another shot before dropping the glass and picking up the bottle, apparently preferring to drink direct instead. “They let me go public with all of this, they let me put my reputation on the line, and for what? Just so they could pocket some money from the papers? What kind of person thinks like that? What kind of person
lives
like that?”

“I guess they were desperate.”

“That stupid fucking whore -”

“Hey!”

He turned to her.

“Don't say things like that!” she continued. “For God's sake, Rob, I know you're angry, but try to keep hold of yourself, okay? Don't go around calling people whores!”

“They're both dumb fucks,” he muttered, taking a swig of whiskey. “The mother's a dirty liar, and Emily's an easily-led idiot who -”

“She's twelve years old, for God's sake!”

“I knew better when I was twelve,” he continued. “Being twelve doesn't mean you can lie with impunity. She's as bad as her mother. Did
you
know better? Come on, of course you did! Everyone does!”

She stared at him for a moment, trying to work out what she could say that might bring him back out of his anger. Finally, she turned and headed to the door.

“Where are you going?” he asked dourly.

“Back to my place.”

“It's late. There are no buses.”

“I'll walk.”

“Stay.”

“You're letting this change you,” she continued, close to tears. “You're feeling so sorry for yourself right now, aren't you?”

Sighing, he turned and saw that she was already slipping into her coat.

“Hey,” he said, stumbling toward her with the almost-empty bottle of whiskey in his right hand, “don't go. I'm pissed off, that's all. You can understand why I might be a little peeved, can't you?”

“This isn't the way to show it,” she muttered, buttoning the front of her coat. “Stumbling around, drunk out of your mind, shouting obscenities about a child -”

“When did you become such a prude?” he asked.

“You think you're such a big man, don't you?” she continued. “Strutting about, shouting fuck this and bullshit that, and swearing all over the place. If that's how you want to be, fine, but don't expect me to stick around and listen.” She grabbed her bag and turned to open the door. “I'll call you in a few days.”

“No!” Pushing the door shut, he stepped closer. “Come on, Jenna, don't be like this. Stay tonight.” Reaching out, he put a hand on the side of her face, but she quickly pushed him away. “Come on, baby...”

“Don't call me baby,” she said firmly. “I don't want to be around you when you're like this.”

“You have to understand,” he replied. “I was so close to getting proof. I thought I'd finally cracked it! I mean, that's the whole point of the work we do, isn't it? Getting proof?”

She shook her head.

“It's not?” he asked. “Then what, I ask you,
is
the point? Because I've been laboring under the misapprehension that as scientists and academics, we need to find proof so we can present these things to the world.”

“The point is knowing in here,” she replied, tapping her chest. “Knowing deep down, in your heart, that these kinds of things are real and worth pursuing. You don't need proof for that. Proof is for academic papers and conferences, proof is for other people. Proof comes later. For you, for each of us, we just need to start by knowing in our souls that what we're searching for is really out there. And that hasn't changed. Joyce and Emily Stone can't take that belief away from us.”

She waited for him to reply.

“Can it?” she asked finally.

“I don't know,” he muttered. “There comes a point when you need proof or...” His voice trailed off.

“Or you don't believe in it anymore?” she replied, with a hint of tears in her eyes. “Are you really going to let this hoax strip you of something so important?”

“Maybe it's all just bullshit,” he pointed out, slurring his words a little. “Ghosts, spirits, other worlds... Maybe it's all just childish bullshit, and maybe we should grow the fuck up. I mean, if there's been no proof found in all of human history, no real, absolute, certain
proof
, then maybe that tells us something. Maybe it tells us that there's nothing out there.”

“There you go again,” she replied, pulling the door open despite his attempt to keep it shut. “Proof is important, but it's not the only thing. You need to believe, too.”

“Stay,” he muttered, as she hurried out and headed along the hallway. “Hey!” he called after her. “Stay tonight!”

He waited, until he heard her heading out the door and into the stairwell.

“Tomorrow, then,” he continued, pushing the door shut and stumbling back across his dimly-lit flat. Swaying, he almost fell sideways a couple of times before reaching the window just in time to see Jenna heading out onto the pavement below and hurrying away.

He sighed, watching her until she was out of sight.

“Fuck,” he muttered, taking another swig of whiskey. With the bottle finished, he held it up for a moment and examined the label, before stumbling toward the kitchen. As he reached the middle of the room, however, he turned and threw the bottle, hitting the window and smashing the glass. “Fuck!” he shouted. “Goddamn lying bitches!”