Выбрать главу

Jason!

Her fingernails found the narrow slat between the floorboards as she pulled herself toward the kitchen, inch by agonizing inch.

Eddie felt like the Pied Piper. The dead Ormsby children, victims, every last one, gathered close.

“I’m going to get you all away from this place. I promise. I just need you to follow me. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Not anymore.”

The children craned their heads down toward the three graves where his body lay in silent repose. Their confusion pulsed in sonar-like waves. How could this man who was talking to them, standing before them urging them to gather round, also be lying on the cold earth?

There were so many. And he knew some were still roaming about the island or in the house. He felt them, sentinels not daring to leave their posts.

“Come,” he said. “Follow me.”

Eddie dropped back into the graves, once again hovering over cruel, sardonic Nathaniel.

“Last chance to tell me who gave birth to your children,” Eddie said.

“Burned and buried,” Alexander chimed from the parallel grave, pleased with his final act, a false sense of security that he had spared the Ormsby name from the true horror and shame it deserved.

A fat worm wriggled from the corner of Nathaniel’s eye, slinking into the gap between the taut lines that had once been his lips.

“Leave me be,” Nathaniel intoned. “You’ve disturbed enough of my rest as it is. Enjoy the pleasures of the lush island we’ve left behind. We may not have realized our aspirations, but we did produce the finest fertilizer in the world.”

His slow, wicked laughter nearly threw Eddie into an uncontrolled rage. If he didn’t keep his concentration, his body would retrieve him as quickly as a rubber band stretched to its limit. If that happened, he’d fail.

Keeping his calm, he said, “Well, since I can’t seem to make you see the light, I thought I’d bring the light to you. Children, make these men tell you who your mothers are.”

Alexander ceased his mindless prattle. Nathaniel’s aura of twisted superiority washed away like glittering sand in the tide.

The first children snaked their way into their coffins.

“No! Keep away from me! You’re nothing to me! Stay away!” Nathaniel screamed.

Alexander joined the chorus as Eddie elevated from their dark resting places, letting the children flow down, deeper and deeper to prize the truth from the monsters that both made and destroyed them.

“I know it’s a bit late, but happy Father’s Day,” Eddie said, rejoining his body and waking to a headache so severe, he was sure blood vessels were going to burst in his skull.

Groaning, rolling to his side, he looked around.

The woods were dark and empty.

He smiled when he thought he heard the dull thump of bones on wood below.

Tobe hadn’t been shocked to see the thick sheen of ice on the generator. With the way the temperature had been dropping, he should have been checking on it every hour, armed with a blow drier to melt it as fast as it formed.

It was fucked. The ice had to be an inch thick.

He hacked at it with a heavy branch he’d found nearby. The ice wouldn’t give but the branch had split down the middle, the fresh wood forming a dangerously sharp point.

I hope we have enough candles, he thought. There was nothing he could do about the generator until the sun came up. He wasn’t even sure if that would help. Ormsby Island had become a dark, walk-in freezer.

Wait until we get the experts here. This place will blow the mind of every scientist, paranormal nut, man woman and child. You want to know where you go after you die? It isn’t heaven, and death is not the end. It’s all right here, folks. And for a nominal fee, you too can experience the forever.

Yes, things hadn’t gone as he’d hoped. Lord only knew if anything they had filmed was even salvageable. But now, it didn’t matter. They had all the proof they needed, right here on his island.

Turning to go back inside and see what the next fire was to put out, he froze, taking an involuntary step back.

Two ghostly children stood on the patio, holding large knives in their too-small hands. It was hard to focus on their faces, as if an undulating gel swam before them. One moment they were alien—large, silver eyes and open mouths, something not quite right about their bone structure, foreheads a little too high, flat noses spread too thin. The next, snatches of something familiar rose from the ooze, only to be swallowed up again.

The knives they held, there was no dismissing that. The few shards of moonlight glinted off them with deadly certainty.

“What are you doing here?” he said, fingers tightening on the sharp branch.

Can you stab a ghost?

If they come at you, go for the knives! Have to knock the knives out of their little ghost hands. How are they even doing this?

“Go away,” he said, unable to hide the tremor in his voice. “I’m not your enemy. I didn’t do this to you. Step back. Now!”

The children stepped forward, lifting their knives higher.

Hadn’t Jessica said no one’s ever been killed by a ghost? He wished she were here to see this. This would certainly knock her the hell off her high horse.

They came closer. He swung the branch before him, a heavy swoosh cleaving the air between them in two.

Keep your eye on the knives.

One of them ran forward. He lashed out, the jagged point making a high kerang as it connected with the large blade. He grunted with satisfaction as it skittered across the patio.

The other ghost wailed, “No!”

Then another voice. “Stop!”

He turned to face the new intruder.

It was Rusty, his hair gone white as fresh snow.

“He’s a very bad man,” the ghost with the knife wailed, then swung the knife high, running at him.

“Alice, no!” Rusty shouted.

Alice? Tobe squinted at the charging ghost, unable to see any trace of his daughter in the mask of unadulterated madness. All he saw was the knife as it buried itself to the hilt in his thigh. Yowling in hot agony, he brought the branch down as hard as he could.

Chapter Forty-Two

Jessica tumbled over the back door threshold. He hands lashed out, fingers finding the white latticework that framed the door. The mere act of keeping on her feet felt like more than her heart could take. It struggled within her chest, pumping blood to organs and extremities that cried out for rest.

Blinking hard to make the yard come into focus, she gasped at the sight in front of her.

Jason was rolling on the ground, holding his hand, great tears streaming down his face. Tobe reared back from Alice, screaming. When Alice backed away, Jessica saw the knife protruding from her father’s thigh.

In retaliation, Tobe made to crack her skull open with a thick tree branch. Rusty literally jumped between the man and his daughter, taking the brunt of the blow against his upper back. His face smacked against the patio. She heard the sharp snap of his nose shattering, droplets of blood springing from his ruined face like a lawn sprinkler.

Alice shrieked, staring dully at her father.

“Tobe, stop!” Jessica cried. “It’s Alice and Jason! Stop!”

She fell to her knees, the quick bursts from her lungs overwhelming her powerless system.

The tree branch paused, high above Alice’s head.

As if waking from a bad dream, the little girl began to sob, small shoulders twitching up and down with each burst of tears.

Tobe stared down at her, really stared, as if trying to make her out through a frosted window. He didn’t drop the branch.

“Daddy,” Jason said, now on his feet and crying as well.