Ryan looked at him strangely. “But why would some guy Carolyn was involved with be attacking this family?”
“The powers of that room are great,” Uncle Howard said. “They can get in your mind… They can cause you to do things.” He shuddered. “If it is the same, then it means we are in greater danger than ever before.”
They heard a sound. A steady, rhythmic beat. A thud, repeated over and over.
“It sounds as if someone’s knocking on the walls,” Ryan said.
“No, listen closely.” Uncle Howard was straining to hear. “It is the sound of a knife…repeatedly stabbing the wall. Close the doors, Ryan.”
Ryan obeyed.
“As he walks,” Uncle Howard whispered, “he is stabbing the wall. The knife goes in, the knife comes out, and he takes another step toward us.”
“No,” Ryan said. He began to cry.
“He is coming for us,” the old man said.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The sound grew ever closer.
In his mind, Ryan could see the knife cutting into the plaster of the wall. He could see the brute’s hand gripping the handle.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He was getting closer.
“No!” Ryan cried, running behind the desk and cowering, covering his face.
Thud. Thud.
The sound stopped.
Ryan peered around the desk from between his fingers. Uncle Howard stood in front of the desk, facing the doors.
Suddenly the doors flew open.
And standing there was the man with the scarred face, knife held over his head.
Ryan screamed.
The man walked into the room, directly toward Uncle Howard.
“Go ahead,” Howard Young said. “Kill me. Be done with it.”
But the man just stood there in front of him, studying his face.
Still peering through his fingers, Ryan saw the maniac’s eyes move. They left Uncle Howard’s face and found his own. With a snarl, the beast took a step around the desk.
“No, please!” Ryan begged. “Please don’t kill me!”
The man simply sneered, raising the knife up over his head, ready to bring it down onto Ryan.
But then-
A gunshot.
Ryan watched in stunned horror and disbelief as the man staggered. Then came another shot. And another. The man swayed on his feet, though none of the shots produced any blood. They simply tore holes in his body. The man seemed bewildered by the bullets rather than pained. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. Then he collapsed, crumpling to the floor.
Ryan leapt up from behind the desk. He saw Carolyn standing in the doorframe, the rifle in her hands still smoking.
“David Cooke had that coming from me for a long time,” she said.
Her words made no sense to Ryan. But no matter. He was on his feet and running. He wasted no time asking any more questions or thanking Carolyn for saving his life. He just wanted out of the house. There might be no place that was safe, but at the moment, all Ryan could do was run.
He bolted out of the study and down the hall, his footsteps echoing across the marble.
Chapter Thirty-two
“Come with me,” Carolyn said to Howard Young. “He’ll soon be back on his feet. The bullets can knock him down, but they can’t kill him.”
“He’s not a ghost?” the old man asked.
Carolyn had stooped down beside the body of the man she had once loved. She had slept beside this creature. She had let him make love to her. She had trusted him.
“No,” she said. “He’s a zombie.”
She pried the knife from his cold hands.
“Might as well disarm him while we have the chance,” she said.
Standing, she motioned to Mr. Young to leave the room.
“There’s nowhere we can hide,” he told her.
“I’m aware of that. That’s why we need to have a little talk, you and me. Take advantage of David being out cold for a while.” Her eyes hardened. “It’s time you told me everything you know, Mr. Young.”
He looked away. “Who is still alive?”
“The only ones killed have been Dean and Philip. Everyone else is safe for the moment in the parlor.” She glanced out the door. “With the possible exception of Ryan.”
“Take me there then,” Howard Young said. “I would see my family.”
Carolyn shook her head. “Nope. You and I are heading over to the library. Where we can talk privately.”
He glared at her.
“Now move,” she said, nudging him with the rifle. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
She led him out of the room and down the corridor. Once inside the library, she locked the door behind them, even though she felt certain David Cooke could break it down if he wanted to. In life he’d been a very strong man. In death, he was even stronger.
“Sit,” she ordered Howard Young.
The old man took a seat in a high-backed chair. He looked so small and frail. Carolyn stood over him.
“What happened the night Beatrice was killed? Who else was involved? Who is the power in that room? Who is using David Cooke to try to kill us?”
“I don’t know,” Howard Young said.
“You’re lying. Dr. Fifer found out something, and for that, you fired him. What did he find out?”
The old man just covered his face in his gnarled, veiny hands.
“You claim to want to end all these deaths!” Carolyn said, her voice rising. “But you withhold information! I need to know everything! We may have only a few minutes! But if I could discover who was behind this, maybe we could make some kind of appeal-”
“It doesn’t understand logic,” Howard Young murmured into his hands. “It cannot be reasoned with.”
“Listen to me!” Carolyn shouted. She stooped down beside the chair so that her eyes were level with Howard Young’s. “You must tell me everything! Or else we all will die here in this house. One by one. Including you.”
“I welcome death,” the old man said. “But it will save for me for last. It will make me watch everyone I love die before me. That’s the way it has been for eighty years.”
“We can end it!” Carolyn insisted. “But first you must tell me everything you know!”
Their eyes held.
Then came the banging on the door.
Chapter Thirty-three
Paula stood at the door of the parlor, listening. The house had once again fallen silent. When the screams had come from the direction of the study, Douglas had rushed out, assuming Carolyn was in danger. His passion to help the woman he loved was understandable-but his departure had left them without a rifle. Paula knew that bullets wouldn’t do much to defend them from an undead man. She’d seen that firsthand in the kitchen. But still she wished she were holding that shiny metal in her hands. It provided some comfort, at least.
Karen came up beside her.
“Baby, maybe you ought to come away from the doors,” she said, placing her hand on Paula’s shoulder.
Paula turned to her. In just the last couple of hours, their world had turned upside down, not once, but several times. She had woken up this morning not knowing what had happened in the room. Then she had learned that Douglas and Carolyn had survived, and for a few blessed moments she had thought them free of the terrors that had ruled their lives for so long. Then, wonder of wonders, Karen had shown up-and everything had indeed seemed right and good and hopeful in Paula’s world.
Then all hell had broken loose. Dean was dead. His children were traumatized. And a maniac was trying to kill them all.
“Karen,” Paula said. “You might have a chance to survive. End it with me again. Renounce what you said earlier. Take it all back. Then walk out of this house. It won’t touch you if you aren’t connected to the family.”
She smiled wryly. “I’m still adjusting to finding out about this madness. But from what I sense, it-whatever it is-would know I didn’t mean it. It would know I still loved you. Sorry, Paula. We’re in this together.” She took her hand. “As we should have been from the beginning.”