Vanish (26 page)

Helen clenched her jaw against his words. She wouldn’t give in. She wouldn’t.… But slowly, her resolve abandoned her. She started to weep and buried her face in her hands.

Kyle stood and moved toward the doorway. He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “You’re going to die alone.”

Helen looked up. Kyle had disappeared. Her body went cold. The rash had spread, enveloping both arms and her torso. She could feel the sensation creeping down her legs and across her face. She stared at the open doorway, eyes wide. Her whole body trembled now.

From the darkness outside, two gray figures entered the house. Heads forward. Eyes white. Jaws open. Hands reaching toward her.

What horrible darkness! What complete and terrible darkness!

She shook her head and tried to scream.…

THE AMBULANCE ARRIVED at the ER entrance, followed by the squad car with Rachel inside. The paramedics rolled her father through the wide double doors. The officer led Rachel in through a secondary entrance and up to the registration desk.

Rachel searched for her mother’s face among the people in the waiting room. It looked like a fairly slow night. Only a half dozen or so people were there.

The middle-aged, heavyset woman behind the glass asked Rachel for some information on her father. Name, age, address. Insurance? Rachel had found his wallet before she left. The officer had reminded her. She thumbed through her father’s credit cards until she came across what she thought was his insurance card.

Was this it? She slid it across the counter. The lady nodded—yes, it was.

Social Security number? Rachel shrugged. She barely knew her own. Fine, the lady said; they could get it later. Then she rattled off a list of other questions, health related. Rachel knew the answers to less than half of them.

“I think my mother would know that.…” Rachel craned her neck to search for her mother again.

There she was.

Her mom rushed through the entrance. Her eyes fixed immediately onto Rachel. She slid into the seat next to her daughter, answering all the questions Rachel had missed. As if she knew them by heart. Her hand stayed on Rachel’s leg the entire time.

They finished with the questions and went to a smaller waiting room down a side corridor. Rachel could see a flurry of activity through the windows of a double door at the end of the hall. Her mother drew her close and, finally, Rachel wept. Full and hard.

She relayed the events through tears and choked sobs. “His eyes were still open,” she said. “He was just laying there. Even when they shocked him… nothing happened.”

Her mother held her tightly and whispered a soft prayer in her ear.

The activity continued for several minutes. Someone bustled a cart into the room, propping the doors open. Rachel moved closer.

“Rachel…” Her mom urged her back but followed her down the hall.

Her father lay on the table in the center of the room. Shirt open. Chest exposed. An IV was hooked into his arm. Wires ran from white pads on his chest and hands. Someone was still squeezing air into his mouth and nose. They had another defibrillator next to the gurney, and one of the ER doctors picked up the pads.

He looked over his shoulder at a monitor. “Clear!”

Everyone backed away as he placed the pads on her father’s chest. His body arched up, held there for a moment, then sank back down. The lines on the monitor jumped. Flattened. Then pulsed. Slowly at first. The activity increased. Rachel only caught snatches of the conversation. Someone called for lidocaine.

“We have sinus rhythm,” one of the nurses said.

“It looks like he’s regaining consciousness.”

The nurse bent to look in his face. “Mr. Hayden? Mr. Hayden?” She checked the monitors, then bent close again. “Mr. Hayden, can you hear me?”

A doctor checked his pupils with a penlight.

Rachel turned to her mother. “They’re talking to him! Is he awake?”

“Mr. Hayden, can you understand me?”

Through the bodies crowded around him, Rachel could see her father move. She thought she saw his mouth open slightly.

He moved! He was answering the nurse!

A wave of relief swept over Rachel. She turned and hugged her mother.

“Oh, thank God,” Marta whispered. “Thank You, God.”

“Mr. Hayden, you’re in the Lake Forest Hospital ER. You’re having a heart attack. Mr. Hayden, do you understand what I’m saying?”

Rachel could see him turn his head. His eyes caught hers. He saw her. She could see that he saw her! She could see recognition in his eyes. If only for a brief moment.

His head rolled back. He looked like he was trying to move his hand. He was trying to talk again. He was saying something to the nurse. She looked down, into his face. She bent close, as if to hear. A moment later, she straightened up. She looked around the room, then back at Rachel and her mother in the hall. For a moment, her eyes held a look of surprise and concern. Then she turned away.

The steady beat of the monitor began to increase.

“His blood pressure’s falling,” someone said.

“We have v-tach,” another voice echoed.

The monitor chimed a steady tone now.

Rachel’s eyes widened. No, he was awake. He had looked at her.
No
!

“We’re losing him.…”

CONNER SAT UP WITH a start, staring wide-eyed into the darkness. His chest heaved as he gasped for air. Shadows surrounded him, but after a moment, his eyes adjusted to the dim light. He could make out the shapes of shovels and rakes hanging on the wall and large farming implements. And beyond them, the old tractor. He was inside the barn again. The barn where he had been attacked. Where Howard had betrayed him. The memories of his encounter flooded back along with memories of something else. The seizure and the light and…

Rachel
? Had he just seen Rachel? And Marta as well?

What had just happened?

Where had he just been?

His head was spinning as he tried to make sense of the images he had seen. No, they weren’t images. They were real. He had felt like a stranger in his own body. It was thick, awkward, and cold. Yet it had an odd familiarity, like the sensation he would have after driving for a long time in a different car, only to return to his old vehicle. It was familiar though still a little awkward.

The memories swirled in his mind. They seemed so real and yet so distant. He had been lying on a table. A nurse was looking down at him. And doctors. He was in an ER. The ER at Lake Forest Hospital. He was back in Lake Forest!

What had she said to him? He was having a…

Conner’s eyes widened. A heart attack!

He struggled to his feet, shaky and disoriented. He felt as if he were trying to put together a large puzzle and all the pieces were lying on the floor. Just close enough together for him to see what kind of picture it might be but not close enough to make complete sense.

Was it real or just another illusion these creatures were giving him? This hallucination wasn’t like the others he’d had. This was louder, colder, and more intense. Either way, he had to find Mitch and Helen. He had to warn them about Howard. The man was not what he appeared to be.

Conner made his way back to the entrance of the barn and peered outside. Darkness had settled over the farm along with a thick mist. Yet there were no lights on. The generators weren’t running. There was no power. His stomach tightened. Something terrible had happened.

Nothing moved in the mist. No sign of the creatures. No sign of Howard.

A dim, orange glow spilled out from the windows of the farmhouse. Conner moved across the yard to the back porch and slipped inside.

Candles flickered on the kitchen table, the counter, and the windowsills. In the living room beyond, more candles had been set on the coffee table and upright piano. Mitch sat on the sofa, staring at the candlelight with an empty expression on his face.

“Mitch?” Conner whispered.

Mitch didn’t move.

Conner waved his hand in front of Mitch’s face. “Mitch, can you hear me?”

Mitch blinked. His eyes drifted up to Conner. After a moment, a slight glow of recognition appeared. “Hey, Conner. Where’d you go?”

Conner narrowed his eyes. What was wrong with him? Why was he acting so strange? “It… it’s a long story. Where’s Helen?”

“Helen?” Mitch wrinkled his forehead, almost as if he was trying to remember who she was. “She, uh… I don’t know. I think she left.”

“Left?” Conner frowned. “Mitch, what’s wrong? Where did she go? Did she go with Howard?”

Mitch’s gaze fluttered back to the candle. “Yeah… I’m not really sure.”

Conner glanced around the room. “Mitch, I think we should get out of here. We need to find Helen. I think she’s in serious trouble. I think we’re
all
in danger.”

Mitch shook his head. “Yeah… I think we should wait for Howard to get back.”

“No.” Conner took Mitch by the shoulders. “Howard
is
the danger. We’ve got to get out of here! Before he gets back!”

A sudden shriek echoed in the darkness outside. Conner froze. He recognized it. “Helen?”

He went to the back porch and peered out into the darkness. The chilling sound echoed again. High-pitched. A scream of complete terror. It came from the forest.

Conner turned back to Mitch. “Did they take her?” He ran back inside and shook Mitch by his shoulders, dragging him off the couch. “Wake up! Did those things take her?”

Mitch scowled, drunkenly. “How should I know? I wasn’t around. I just went out to fix the generators, and when I came back, she was gone.”

“She’s in the woods! I can hear her. Don’t you hear that?”

Mitch shook free from Conner’s grasp and plopped back onto the sofa. “Just go away and leave me alone!”

Conner swore at him. “
We’ve got to save her
!”

“
You
can go,” Mitch grunted. “
I’m
not going anywhere.”

Conner peered at him. “What’s happened to you?”

“Just leave me alone.”

Conner rummaged through the house, explaining his experience to Mitch, hoping some of it was getting through. Could they be dying? Could they all be dead? Was all this some kind of hell? Mitch didn’t seem to care.

Conner found a large flashlight and headed outside. He made his way back to the barn. His mind was churning. He needed a plan. But what? He wasn’t even sure what was happening to them. Had his experience in the hospital been just another illusion?

Helen’s voice echoed again. Pleading for help. Conner shuddered. He had never heard anyone sound so deeply frightened. He found Howard’s harvester behind the barn. Maybe he could figure out how to use it. He climbed into the cab and searched for the keys. Or an ignition switch. He had no idea how to even operate the thing. He slammed his fist onto the steering wheel and cursed. He struggled against his own panic. Part of him knew he had to rescue Helen—or at least try. But part of him was paralyzed with fear.

He climbed back out of the tractor and swept the flashlight across the field. Tendrils of mist coiled and swirled in the light. Darkness seemed to swallow it completely.

“Help me! Help! Someone, please help me!”

Helen’s voice sent chills down his spine. The sheer terror he heard in it. He swore again, cursing Howard and Mitch and even God Himself.

Then slowly, as if fighting against a strong current, he made his way forward across the open field. Everything inside him screamed not to go forward. He turned and peered behind him. Darkness and mist enveloped him completely. He couldn’t see the house or the barn. Ahead lay even thicker darkness and fog, beckoning him—daring him almost—to continue. He stood alone in the dark, holding the flashlight, trembling.

At length, he willed his legs to move forward again. After several minutes, the light caught the branches of trees, rising out of the mist. Black, twisted, and bare. He stood at the edge of the forest. He could feel the air, cold inside. His breath puffed out in steamy billows.

Whispers echoed from the darkness. Rasping, inhuman voices surrounded him. Then his eyes caught something.…

Far off among the trees, a single light glowed. It flickered, dimmed, and then glowed again.

Conner’s heart pounded, shaking his ribs. He took several long, deep breaths, clenched his teeth tightly, and plunged into the woods.

BRANCHES SNAGGED ON Conner’s clothes and scraped against his skin. He lowered his head and pushed through the undergrowth, pressing forward toward the tiny glow. The wood seemed dry, snapping as if every bit of moisture had been sucked from the trees, leaving charred, skeletal remains.

The voices closed in on all sides of him. Rasping whispers buffeted him with words he could not understand. Taunting, jeering. Warning. Threatening. He clenched his teeth against his fear until his jaw ached. Still he pressed onward.

After several minutes, he broke into a clearing and found himself staring wide-eyed at a small cabin. It was a simple timber structure with a single door and window along the front. A rusted stovepipe emerged through one side of the sagging roof. It looked completely abandoned and forsaken except for the orange glow pouring out through the window.

Conner swallowed. His throat was still dry. Why hadn’t he thought to drink anything before he left? Why hadn’t he come more prepared? He switched off the light, stole quietly to the front window, and peered inside.

Through the weather-stained glass, he could see a single table and three chairs. A potbellied stove sat off to one side. An assortment of hunting gear and other items cluttered the walls and remaining floor space. Several fat candles glowed on the table, and a small fire had been lit inside the stove.

Conner’s heart raced as he tried to determine whether anyone was hiding amid the junk, but the place looked empty. He creaked open the door and slipped inside.