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Authors: Rick Hautala

Tags: #horror novel

Dead Voices (59 page)

BOOK: Dead Voices
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“Well then,” Junia said, shrugging, “the truth is, nobody’s really sure what was going on there that night. Roland Graydon is dead. You’ve just come out of a coma. And Frank Melrose, the only other person nearby that night, wasn’t exactly clear about what he saw happening. He had sustained a quite serious head injury.”

“Is he ... all right?” Elizabeth asked. Another memory from that night stirred, one of Frank Melrose, his face smeared by thick gouts of streaming blood, running toward her from the darkness. She recalled hearing the sound of his revolver punching the night.

“He’s fine ... he’s just fine,” Junia said. “As a matter of fact, he’s been here to visit you several times since you were admitted.”

“How long ... How long has it been?”

Junia’s eyes flicked up at the ceiling again; but before she said anything, she picked up the glass of water and held the straw to Elizabeth’s lips. Elizabeth sucked some more water into her mouth, letting it sit there for a moment before swallowing it. The pain in her chest intensified, but she had to have an answer. Licking her lips, she rephrased her question, just in case Junia hadn’t understood her.

“How long have I been unconscious?”

“It’s been ... almost two weeks,” Junia replied softly.

Elizabeth heard the words like a rapid series of explosions inside her head. “Two weeks ... ?”

Junia nodded as she trailed her fingers soothingly across Elizabeth’s forehead. “Yes ... that long.”

“I — I’ve been having this really weird dream,” Elizabeth said. Her voice was a gravelly growl as she allowed the memory to surface of the old woman, leaning over the bed railing with her bag ...


Wanna see what I have for yah?

“It’s been ... quite a strain ... for a lot of people,” Junia replied, nodding. “Doug’s driven out from New Hampshire several times to see you.”

The mere mention of her ex-husband’s name made the ripple of pain in Elizabeth’s chest increase. She wanted to say something about not wanting-ever!-to see Doug again, and if she was ever asleep for Junia or the hospital staff to keep him out; but then she thought better of it and remained silent.

“So why are you here?’ Elizabeth asked, craning her neck again to look at the window. “Who’s staying with Aunt Elspeth?” She couldn’t be sure, but through the slats, it looked as though the sky was brightening. Could it really be approaching dawn? She supposed so. Anything was possible if it had, in fact, been two weeks since that terrifying night in the cemetery.

Junia’s eyes clouded over. Tears formed and ran down her cheeks. ‘‘I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but Aunt Elspeth ... passed away. Her funeral was yesterday afternoon,” she said softly.

“Oh, my God,” Elizabeth said. “She ... died?”

Junia nodded solemnly, and Elizabeth could feel her own eyes misting up.

It wasn’t just Elspeth’s death that shocked Elizabeth, though; now — for the first time — she realized why in her nightmares the old crone looked so frighteningly familiar. In one of her sessions with Graydon, he had suggested that the woman might possibly be Elizabeth’s projection of herself, representing things about herself she was trying to hide from herself. It hadn’l been that al all, Elizabeth realized. It was her namesake, her Aunt Elspeth, whose face she had vaguely recognized beneath the shabby clothing, the grimy features, and the unkempt hair of the woman from her nightmares.

Had that really been Aunt Elspeth, standing unseen beside Elizabeth’s hospital bed yesterday? The day of her funeral, had Elspeth come to visit Elizabeth one last time, to show her that all of her fears were in the shopping bag ... and then reveal that there was nothing there? It must have been Elspeth! Elizabeth remembered hearing both her mother and father talking about what a pity it was that someone had died; she realized now that they had been speaking about her aunt, not her!

And she came here. to the hospital. to help m ... to show me that. even after everything I saw or think I saw in the cemetery that night. that all of my fears are as real and as solid as what I saw in her shopping bag ...

Nothing!


All gone!”

“I’m ... so sorry,” Elizabeth said, her eyes glistening as she looked at her aunt and read the deep pain in Junia’s eyes. “I’ll miss her ... too.” She vowed, even then, that once she was out of the hospital — and she knew she would leave; oh, yes, she was going to live! — she would use everything she had learned about loss and suffering to help Junia accept and cope with her recent grief, which was just as real and deep as what Elizabeth felt for Caroline.

“Frank’s been by to check in on you just about every day, too,” Junia said.

“I remember seeing him ... that night ... at the cemetery ... . with his ... his face all bloody,” Elizabeth said. She tried to shift in bed to get more comfortable, but the straps restrained her

Junia placed a reassuring hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder and eased her back down, forcing her to relax. “He said he’d like to stop by and see you, once you were feeling up\ to it.”

Elizabeth had to blink her eyes rapidly as they flooded with tears. “I — I think I’d like that,” she said softly.

“I told you he was injured when his car rolled over,” Junia said. “He had some quite serious cuts on his face, but he’s just fine now.” She paused a moment, then added. “He’s not working for the police anymore, though.”

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“He resigned as soon as he was released from the hospital. You see, there was quite a bit more involved that night than you realize,” Junia said, lowering her voice again. “Roland Graydon died, sure enough, but apparently he had help doing those horrible things he’d been doing. You must know Frank’s partner, Brad Norton.” Elizabeth nodded numbly as bitter guilt rose up inside her. She realized that, even if she hadn’t been committed to the psycho ward, she almost deserved it for going along with Graydon’s suggestions right from the beginning. Why had she done that? Or, more seriously, how had she let herself be led along so willingly and so blindly? Even if she had never suspected his plot to revenge himself on her for his nephew’s death, she had suspected he was involved in the disinterment of her Uncle Jonathan, the murder of Barney Fraser, and the fire that had killed Henry Bishop. Just the thought that she had actually believed Graydon could communicate with her dead daughter was more than unsettling. It was ludicrous!

So if I’m not in P-6 yet, I still have a better than average shot at making it there
, she thought with sour humor.

But if what she had experienced was impossible, how could she account for what she
had
seen that night in Oak Grove Cemetery? No matter what else, she most definitely had seen ... something out of the ordinary, something that couldn’t be casually dismissed as illusion or hallucination. Graydon’s ceremony had raised something that night! Maybe Graydon had planned all along to raise the demon to push her — finally — over the brink. Or maybe he had succeeded in conjuring up far more than he had ever thought or believed possible. The demon she had seen — Yes! It had been as real, as solid as the stone that marked Caroline’s grave! While at first it had assumed the shape of Caroline, it had been truly — a dark and evil creature from Hell, just as surely as there had been something else-something airy and blue, emanating a purity and goodness that had helped Elizabeth in her struggle to avoid the killing blade of the knife.

“Well, apparently Brad Norton was helping Roland Graydon all along,” Junia continued. “He’s been charged with attempted murder, conspiracy to commit murder, and a whole host of other crimes. They think Graydon set the fire that killed Henry Bishop, so I don’t think he’s being tried for that. At least, not yet. “ Junia’s expression faltered before she added, “They figure he and Graydon were the ones who disturbed Jonathan’s and Caroline’s graves, but Frank also mentioned that Norton said something about Graydon blackmailing Bamey Fraser to do the job. Whatever! Hey-you’re looking a little peaked, and here I am, gabbing your ear off. “

“No — I’m all right,” Elizabeth said, although the weakening quaver in her voice revealed the truth. “But — can I tell you one thing, Aunt Junia?”

Junia’s mouth set into a firm, unsmiling line. “Of course you can, Elizabeth. You can tell me anything.”

“That night, out there in the cemetery,” Elizabeth said, swallowing with difficulty. “I don’t know for sure what happened and what didn’t. I’ll probably never know; but one thing — I’m honest-to- God positive I
did
see Caroline! When . . I don’t know, whatever the hell was going on, I heard her calling to me.” She shivered with the memory, her eyes widening with fright. “I kept hearing a voice crying
Help Mommy
! All along, I thought she needed help ... you know, from the accident and the fire. Now-I’m not so sure. I think she might have been trying to tell me she could help me! But, whatever-I know this much! I saw her there! She came to me out of the darkness and she ... She
did
help me!”

Junia’s expression widened into a broad smile. She patted the back of Elizabeth’s hand and said mildly, “You know, I’m not in\ the least bit surprised. Ever since you came back home, I’ve had this ... this feeling that Caroline was with you, if you know what I mean.”

An oily wave of fear crested inside Elizabeth. She felt it rise, break, and then begin to pull back in a rush as it dissolved into nothingness.


I have all your fears in here!

“I think I
do
know what you mean,” Elizabeth said softly. “I mean, I always felt her here in my heart, but-” She tried to tap herself on the chest but couldn’t, so instead she simply shook her head, even thongh it sent a crackling pulse of pain up the back of her head. “I don’t know. I couldn’t get rid of this feeling that she was always somewhere nearby, always just out of sight, but trying her damnedest to reach out to me.”

“Look, dear,” Junia said cheerfully. “The sun’s coming up. You need to rest instead of listening to me gab all morning.”

“No,” Elizabeth said. She raised her head as best she could and craned her neck to look at the brightening bars between the Levolor blinds. Her body trembled with the effort of trying to sit up. “I like to see the dawn. Open up the shades, would you please?”

Junia nodded and walked over to the window, brushing away with her foot the sheet that had covered her while she slept in the chair. Her hand shook with the palsy of age as she pulled the rope to raise the blinds. Elizabeth saw the bright orange disk of the sun just creeping up over the fire-trimmed edge of the cityscape. Thin bands of purple clouds stretched like fingers across the pale blue sky over Portland. High overhead, several small dots that might have been sea gulls circled over the ocean.

“I don’t think I’ll need to be strapped down any more,” she said, sighing deeply as an immense feeling of pleasure swelled through her. She felt buoyant, as light as a andelion fluff, almost giddy hen she considered that, in spite of. the horror and grief and ear he had been through, she had made it! She was alive! She had urvived!

A trickle of laughter bubbled out of her, but when she looked way from the early morning cityscape and looked at her aunt’s reflection in the dust-glazed window, her heart kipped a beat. The morning sun was beaming in on Junia’s face, but instead of seeing that aged, wrinkled face she loved so dearly, Elizabeth saw another face reflected in the glass. Bright, youthful eyes stared back at her and gleaming white teeth flashed in a broad smile.

“Oh, Jesus —” Elizabeth muttered. Her body twitched involuntarily, pulling hard against the restraints. It took a moment for her numbed brain to recognize the face; but, as their eyes locked, she found herself staring directly at her daughter, Caroline. Taking a deep breath to” calm herself, she smiled widely and, addressing her daughter’s reflection, said, “You know, Aunt Junia-I think you’re absolutely right. I think Caroline’s been here with me all along, trying to help me.”

 

BOOK: Dead Voices
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