With a guttural roar Jack hurled himself at the front steps, only to stop short and stagger back.
"Easy, Jack."
"Gia's in there!"
"You don't know that."
"I do! Damn! This is what Tara was after all along—to get Gia alone in there."
"But she's not alone. Char—" Lyle's heart tripped, skipped a beat. "Oh, shit. Charlie's in there too. What do you think's happening?"
"Don't know, but it can't be good if she's got the place sealed up." He started for the side of the house. "Let's see if this goes all the way around."
It did. They circled the house, punching at its windows and rear door, throwing rocks at it. Anyone seeing them had to think they were drunk and locked out. They called for Gia and Charlie, but no one answered.
Then they came to the garage—and walked right in. But they couldn't reach the door from the garage to the house.
Lyle leaned against the impenetrable air and felt sick. This couldn't be—shouldn't be. What was happening to the world?
"Jack…"
His face was reddening with the effort of trying to force a broom handle through the barrier. "Gets to you, doesn't it. Down is up, up is down, immutable laws get broken, things you always thought impossible aren't." With a grunt of frustration he tossed the broom across the garage. "Welcome to my world."
Lyle spotted a ladder leaning against the wall. "Hey, if we can't get through it, maybe we can get over it."
"Do not waste your time," said a woman's voice. "You cannot."
Lyle turned and saw a Hindu woman in an orange sari. Her dark eyes, and those of the big German shepherd standing beside her, were on Jack.
"Why not?" Lyle said.
"Because it goes up far."
"How far?" Jack said,
"Forever."
Who was this lady? Where'd she come from?
"How do you know so much about this?" Lyle asked.
"I know."
The way she said it, Lyle believed her.
"You've got to do better than that," Jack said.
He took a step toward her but stopped when the dog growled.
Her eyes flashed at him. "Have I not warned you about this house and its dangers for you and your woman? Have I not? And neither of you listened!"
Why didn't I know about this? Lyle thought.
"Yeah, you did. And obviously we should have. So what? I-told-you-so doesn't solve the problem. If you know so much, what's going on in there?"
"Your woman and her baby are in grave danger."
Baby? Was Gia pregnant? Lyle saw Jack blanch. He looked frightened, something Lyle hadn't thought possible.
"How do—? Never mind. What kind of danger? Why?"
"The why does not matter because the why has changed. But the danger is mortal."
Lyle's mouth went dry. "Charlie too?"
She didn't look at him. "Anyone in that house now is in danger."
How could she know all this—any of it? She could be wrong or just plain crazy.
Jack seemed to have bought it. He was turning in a circle, his hands raised and balled into fists. He looked ready to explode.
"Got to be a way in. Got to!"
The woman's eyes remained fixed on Jack. She paid Lyle no more heed than a piece of furniture.
"You cannot break in, and no one inside can break out. You must be allowed in or out."
"Allowed? How do we arrange that?"
"I do not know for certain. Perhaps by offering the entity something she wants more than your woman."
Jack said nothing, just stood and stared at the woman.
"Name it," Lyle told her. This was Charlie, his brother at risk here too. The sky was the limit. "Whatever it is we can use to trade, name it and we'll do our damnedest to get it."
"It's not an it," Jack said. He started for the door with a strange light in his eyes, almost like glee, yet disturbingly malevolent. It made Lyle want to back away. "It's a he. And I know who. Let's go."
Lyle had a sudden inspiration as to who that "he" might be and was very glad he was not him.
11
"You all right?" Charlie said from where he sprawled next to her.
Gia had landed on her left leg harder than her right and it hurt. She pulled it under her and tried to stand, leaning against the dirt wall at her back for support. It held.
"I think so." She brushed off her jeans. "How about you?"
Charlie stood easily. "Fine."
Light filtered down from above. Gia looked up. She could see the panels of the cellar ceiling, but all around her was dirt. She and Charlie had dropped into a well-like pit maybe a dozen feet deep and half that across.
She fought a surge of panic as the walls seemed to tilt toward her and move in. She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth to let the moment pass. She'd never been claustrophobic, but she'd never been tossed into an oubliette before either.
"Tara?" she called. Her fear-dry throat made it sound more like a croak than a name. "Tara!"
No reply.
"Tara, why are you doing this to us? We never hurt you. We can help bring your killer to justice. Please let us out!"
Only silence from above.
Gia's heart pounded as she ran her hands over the smooth circular wall. The dirt was hard packed, with no ridges or depressions for handholds.
She glanced at Charlie. His wild-eyed gaze darted up and around and back. He licked his lips as he placed his sneakered right foot against the wall, then stretched out his arms and placed both hands against the opposite side. When he raised his left foot and put it next to his right, he was arched across the pit. Now he started inching his hands and feet upward toward light and freedom.
But after half a foot or so his hands slipped off the wall and he fell, landing on all fours like a cat. Without a word he tried again, with the same result.
He stood and leaned against the wall, head back, eyes closed, breathing hard.
"Lord, give me the strength for this, I pray you. Please."
He tried again and this time advanced maybe a foot before falling. He sat hunched against the wall, knees up, head down, the picture of dejection.
"If the walls was just one foot closer—half a foot, even—I could slam it. I know I could."
"It's okay," Gia said softly. "You gave it your best shot."
"Not good enough." He stood and looked at her. "We trapped."
Gia glanced up and thought about standing on Charlie's shoulders. But even then she'd be short of the upper rim.
"Maybe Tara will get us out when she's ready."
"When's that gonna be? And why we down here anyway?"
Gia shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe she just wanted us out of the way."
"That don't make no sense."
Gia had to agree, but did a ghost have to make sense? Look at what she'd said before the ground opened up: I want to be a mother. What did that mean? How could she be a mother? She was dead. But that wouldn't stop her from wanting what she couldn't have, Gia supposed.
"At least we're not hurt." She pointed to her shoulder bag lying on the dirt floor. She'd dropped it when they fell. "And we won't go hungry because I have a couple of power bars in my—" She dropped to her knees beside the bag as she remembered. "Oh, God. My cell phone!"
She rummaged through the jumbled contents and pulled out the phone, but when she turned it on, nothing happened. No light, no beep, no power.
"Damn, it's dead."
Charlie knelt beside her. "Like I said. We trapped. She wouldn't let us up the steps and I bet she ain't lettin' nobody down. All we got left is prayer."
"And hope that Jack figures out I'm here." Gia cursed herself for not leaving him a note, but she thought she was going to him. "Once he knows, he'll get us out."
Charlie looked at her. "You say that like it a done deal."