314 Book 3 (Widowsfield Trilogy) (9 page)

She was crying out in fear as she tried to recover from her stumble. Grace pressed her hands on the slick floor, a week’s worth of
gunk beneath her that Juan should’ve mopped, but he was never concerned much about cleanliness. As she slipped again, she cursed the cook.

“Grace,” said Desmond, although his voice was the only proof of his existence.

“No!” Grace got to her knees, her hip pulsing from the impact with the floor. “Stay away from me.” She gave up trying to get to her feet, and crawled to the back door that led to the alley. The fire station was just behind the diner, and she planned to escape there and plead for help.

Grace gripped the door handle and used it to help herself up. Then she pushed the back door open without daring to glance backward. A blinding flash of yellow light greeted her, and she instinctually raised her arm to shield her eyes.

The light was warm, but pleasantly so, its heat a soothing influence on her addled senses. Once she experienced the warmth of the rays hitting her, Grace’s fear subsided. She lowered her arm, unafraid of the light that greeted her outside of the building. Despite its intensity, the light didn’t hurt her eyes. She gazed out, and felt her eyes begin to produce tears. Within the glow she caught sight of human shapes moving, casting shadows that the rays burst past, like crepuscular, heavenly light piercing clouds.

“Dezzy,” said Grace, but she couldn’t look away. “Are you seeing this?”

“Yes,” said Desmond as he approached from behind Grace.

She wasn’t afraid of him anymore. As the glow warmed her, she realized she wasn’t afraid of anything. The rays caressed her skin, as tactile as anything that had ever touched her before. It felt like the warmth was seeping into her, and slowly pulling her in, piece by piece. Dots of sparkling white floated away from her, and up along the path the rays cut through the sky. She felt like a budding flower that was feeling the first rays of a sunrise
as it burned away the fog.

“I’m dead, aren’t I?” asked Grace, but not with trepidation. Unlike any moment in her entire life, she was fully aware that death was not something to be afraid of. The realization was equally invigorating and tranquilizing, a sensation unequaled in all of her years on Earth. Human beings live with a constant dread of creeping death – that specter looming large over every other facet of life. Despite any promise that religion holds, or assurance that a pastor gives, an uncertainty about mortality rests deep within. Once that fear was allayed, Grace experienced a burst of joy that could only be rivaled by the deepest love.

“Yes,” said Desmond. “I think we’ve been dead for a long time.”

Grace recognized sadness in Desmond’s voice, and she turned to him, hoping to carry him into the light with her. He was standing in the kitchen, out of the rays that reached down.

“Come with me,” said Grace as she held out her hand.

Desmond shook his head. “Not yet, Gracie. Not without my boy.”

“Are you sure he’s not up here already?” asked Grace.

“I heard him here, somewhere. I know he’s still stuck down here, and I’m not leaving without him.”

“You’ve always been such a good father to that boy, Dezzy.”

“Thanks,” said Desmond with sorrow in his voice. “Hey Grace, I want to tell you something. If this is the last time we ever see each other, there’s something I want to say.”

“It won’t be the last time we see each other,” said Grace. “I’ve never been surer of anything in my whole life.”

Desmond smiled. “Even so, I just want to say thanks. You were always so good to Ray and me. I always…” he looked down, embarrassed, but forced himself to continue. “I guess I’ve always had a crush on you. You’re the prettiest girl I know.”

“Thank you, Dezzy,” said Grace. She wasn’t embarrassed by his admission, and realized that her appreciation was influenced by the sense of enlightenment that flooded her. In life, Grace would’ve been uncertain how to react to an admission of attraction of the sort that Desmond had given. She was married, and was not attracted to Desmond. His declaration would’ve made their relationship difficult, and she would’ve been tempted to change the way she interacted with him. Now, however, she felt wholly appreciative of his love, and wanted nothing but to give him happiness. “I’ll be waiting for you up here.”

“Bye Gracie,” said Desmond as he waved from the cover of the Salt and Pepper Diner, out of the light.

Elsewhere in Widowsfield, similar events were taking place. At the Emergency Services Building across the street, Nancy walked back in to tell Claire and Darryl about the blooming light descending from the heavens. Darryl was slow to rise from his seat, as he normally was, but when the golden hue reached in through the windows he joined his coworkers as well.

They stood at the door, hesitant to leave until the light touched them. One by one, they each accepted their fate. Darryl wept, and Claire embraced him, neither feeling any sense of sorrow – only joy. They had no fear of death, and no concern about leaving loved ones behind. As the rays warmed them, it was clear that life was a stumbling block on a much longer journey. There was no sense that a heavenly father was guiding them on, but rather that they had only temporarily forgotten their place in the fabric of existence, and the connection they each shared. The sparks of their souls danced together in the light, free of inhibition and concern, trauma or pain.

Winnie Anderson was with the UPS driver, Walter, watching from the windows of the used book store as the light finally broke through the shroud of fog that had hidden the occupants of Widowsfield for sixteen years. They were both scared at first, but then Walter dared to reach out to the rays and felt
its warm embrace. He pulled Winnie in to share a kiss he’d been meaning to give her for months. As the glow grew brighter and cast the shadows of Walter and Winnie over the wood floor of the book store, they held one another tighter.

Their nightmare was finally over. But not all of Widowsfield had been set free.

Widowsfield let the souls of the dead leave, but only because The Watcher had discovered new horrors left in the minds of the residents that still slept. The new Widowsfield had lost the girls that the witch led into the water, and now The Watcher released the souls of those who’d died years earlier. The fog was less crowded, but The Watcher was delighted by the fear it clung to – those souls in the mist, anchored to Widowsfield by the husks that slept at the Cada E.I.B. facility.

In the sixteen years after the event in Widowsfield that traumatized the residents of the town, several of them passed on. Some of the sleepers died of natural causes, from things like heart attacks and aneurisms. The Watcher and The Skeleton Man had caught their energy, what a religious person would refer to as their souls, in the web of lies that they’d created out of Widowsfield, and used them to help create the nightmare. They’d hidden away the light of heaven with the fog of nightmares.

The Widowsfield where The Watcher lurked existed between two worlds, a layer between heaven and earth. In one world, the denizens of Widowsfield had fallen unconscious, and were kept at the Cada E.I.B. facility; they were the sleepers. The other world was where the souls of the dead tried to reach, but The Watcher’s web caught them, forcing them to exist in his nightmare. Now that The Watcher had been forced to retrace his steps, and to recreate a new nightmare, he released the souls of the sleepers that had already died on Earth.

The girls of
Widowsfield that followed the witch to the Jackson Reservoir and leapt in were thrust back into their bodies on the gurneys inside Cada E.I.B.s facility. Their souls were free, but still trapped by their living shell. The sleepers that hadn’t awoken were the ones that were still anchored to earth, but existed in The Watcher’s grasp.

Raymond was among the sleepers that still clung to life, and The Watcher focused on the boy’s worst moments. The Watcher craved the fear the boy felt when he was discovered in Terry’s closet by Michael Harper.

The Watcher in the Walls longed to know Michael again. He was creating new terrors based on the phantom of Michael, and he fantasized about what nightmares he could weave if Michael returned. The Watcher craved new sacrifices to torture, but he only had another day to wait. Vess would come back soon to turn on his machine. Then new souls would be sent back into The Watcher’s hell.

Widowsfield

March 13th, 2012

3:10 AM

Alma Harper stared at Widowsfield through the tinted windows of the Cada E.I.B. security van. Paul was sitting beside her on the long, single seat. He held her hand, but neither of them seemed capable of expressing emotion of any sort. Paul was exhausted, and Alma’s time in the clutches of The Watcher had left her mentally and emotionally drained. Too many thoughts clouded her mind, and it was impossible to settle on a single thing to worry about.

She whispered, “I wish I never came back here,” as she looked out at the dead town.

Paul squeezed her hand and scooted closer to her. He put his arm around her and said, “You had to.”

“No I didn’t,” said Alma. “I avoided this place for most of my life. I should’ve kept avoiding it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with trying to face the skeletons in your closet,” said Paul. “And there’s no way you could’ve known what was actually going on here.”

“I don’t know,” said Alma. “I think I should’ve expected this.”

“Why do you say that?” asked Rosemary from the passenger-side seat.

Jacker stopped the van at an intersection to give Rosemary a chance to get out and touch the pavement ahead, like they’d been doing since leaving Cada E.I.B., but Rosemary was inte
rested in what Alma was saying. She didn’t get out.

“I’ve always been afraid of this place,” said Alma.

“Right, of course,” said Rosemary, disinterested with Alma’s fear of Widowsfield. “But you said you should’ve expected this. Why would you say that?”

Alma felt like she was being put on the spot, and glanced helplessly over at Paul. “I don’t know. The things I remembered about this place were awful. I should’ve known not to try and come back here.”

Rosemary continued to stare at Alma, causing her to become increasingly uncomfortable.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Rosemary shook her head slowly and then said, “I just had a horrible thought.”

“Great,” said Jacker as he sunk down into his seat. He sighed and put his hand over his face as he groaned. “What’s your horrible thought?”
He was clearly sick of horrible thoughts.

“That we’re all stuck in a different Watcher’s lies,” said Rosemary. The rest of the occupants of the van stiffened.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Paul.

“It’s sort of pointless to worry about,” said Rosemary as she glanced away in thought. “But what if we’ve always been stuck in an illusion a Watcher created?”

Paul leaned his head back and groaned loudly, and then he started to laugh. He shook his head, sighed, and said, “Then tell the mother fucker I want out.”

Jacker chuckled in agreement. “Amen, brother.”

“You’re right,” said Rosemary as she started to open the door. “It’s silly to worry about…”

“Wait,” said Alma. She was the only one in the car that was still taking the conversation seriously. “I used to dream about him.”

Rosemary sat back in her seat, and closed the door again. “About who?” she asked as she turned to Alma.

“I thought it was Ben,” said Alma as she became increasingly concerned. “But now I’m not so sure.”

“What were the dreams?” asked Rosemary.

“I have this recurring dream about my teeth falling out, and children laughing at me. And sometimes I’d hear the teeth chattering.”

“The Skeleton Man,” said Paul, apparently recalling how the creature’s teeth would constantly clack against one another.

“But there
were also black wires in the dreams,” said Alma. “I never really thought about them before, but in all of those recurring dreams there were these black wires around. Sometimes they just made up the strings on a harp, and other times entire walls were made up of them.”

“The Watcher in the Walls,” said Rosemary. “I’ve only ever gotten glimpses of him.”

“I met him,” said Alma. “He was a mass of tentacles or wires, all coiled up and turned into the shape of a man. He was part of the fog, but he was also connected to the cabin. Does that make sense?”

“The Watchers live inside the walls,” said Rosemary before she slapped the headrest beside her. “They live in these inanimate things. I think my gift, the psychometry, is just an ability to tap into what they know. Like they’re allowing me to see the things they remember.”

“Maybe that’s what my dreams were,” said Alma. “Maybe they were trying to talk to me?” She phrased the statement like a question.

Rosemary nodded, and bit her lip as she considered what Alma had said. “I just don’t understand why The Watchers everywhere else are so docile, while the one here in Widowsfield is so malicious.”

“Maybe he’s an insane one,” said Jacker. “Like a serial killer or some mental case like that.”

“Well, we know that Oliver’s company had something to do with it,” said Paul. “Right?”