F Paul Wilson - Novel 05 (52 page)

 
          
"Stay
here!" he says through tight-clenched teeth. "Don't move until I tell
you to!" He pulls the French doors closed behind him.

 
          
Moaning,
sobbing, shaking, Julie and Sammi cling to each other in the dark. Through the
glass panes of the doors they see Daddy moving back and forth in the foyer.

 
          
A
moment later he returns. He grabs Julie's jaw and forces a pill into her mouth.

 
          
"Chew
and swallow!" When she doesn't, he smacks her and gives the order again.
"Chew and swallow!"

           
Julie bites the tablet. Bitter taste
floods her mouth as he moves on to Sammi.

 
          
"It
tastes awful!" Sammi cries, and Daddy slaps her on her behind.

 
          
"Eat
it!"

 
          
When
Julie and Sammi have swallowed their pills, he leaves them again. They huddle
there in the darkness for what seems like forever.

 
          
Suddenly
Julie smells something burning. Smoke begins to seep into the living room. Like
the fireplace smell, but stronger.

 
          
Sammi
screams, "Fire!" and points through the French doors.

 
          
The
living room fills with smoke. Julie struggles to her feet, pulling Sammi up
with her. They've got to get out of here. She drags Sammi to the French doors.
The whole foyer is full of flame. She grabs the door handle. It's hot but she
holds on and twists it.

 
          
A
blast of heat pushes the doors open, singeing her hair. The flames roar toward
them. She turns away, crying
—

 
          
They
can't escape.

 
          
Suddenly
a strong arm wraps around her. She and Sammi are lifted from the ground. It's
Daddy! Daddy the protector has shaken off whatever evil spell possessed him and
has come to rescue his little girls. He'll save everyone now.

 
          
She
sees Mommy still slumped by the stairs and Uncle Eathan still on the floor.
Daddy steps over their inert uncle and carries them into the cool, clear night
air.

 
          
He
carries them safely away from the heat and smoke and deposits them in the damp
grass.

 
          
"Stay
here," he says. "I'm going back for your mother."

 
          
And
so they wait, watching the flames move through the house, waiting for Daddy to
save their mommy and bring her to their side.

 
          
And
suddenly they see him, barreling through the flames at the door with a wet
towel wrapped around his head. He's carrying something in his arms. . .. Yes,
something
—

 
          
But
it's not Mommy. It's a duffel bag and an armful of books. The same books he
threw down in the foyer a few moments ago. Important books, like his important
papers. He trots up to the twins' side and places the books on the ground
nearby. Then he turns and stares at the fire.

 
          
"Where's
Mommy?" Julie asks. "Didn't you save her?"

 
          
But
Daddy doesn't answer, doesn't even glance her way. He seems entranced by the
fire. He walks away, moving closer to the flaming house. He stands with his
hands on his side and watches the flames.

 
          
Suddenly
Julie sees movement in one of the side windows near Daddy. Movement. .. and
someone is there, pounding against the screen. A woman
—
her dress is smoldering, her hair ablaze.

 
          
"Mommy!"
she screams and Sammi joins her.
"Mommy!"
They stand up,
screaming. Mommy's there, she's okay, she's getting out.

 
          
Daddy
sees her too. Her weakening efforts manage to knock the screen out of the
window frame. As it topples to the grass she sags against the sill, half in,
half out, reaching toward him, pleading for help, for rescue.

 
          
Daddy
quickly looks around, rushes to the edge of the garden, and returns with... the
hoe. He braves the heat and stretches it up to her.

 
          
Julie
holds her breath. Daddy can do it! Daddy can save her!

 
          
But
as Mommy reaches for the hoe-Daddy rams it against her body and Mommy topples
back into the flames.

 
          
Julie
and Sammi wail their horror into the night. Won't somebody come to put out the
fire? Won't a fireman come save their mommy?

 
          
But
only the unblinking face of the full moon is witness.

 
          
Daddy
waits by the window a while longer, and when Mommy doesn't reappear, he starts
toward them, a black form silhouetted against the flames, coming closer,
looming larger, blocking out the house and the fire until there's only the
fire-lit trees and the moon and his shadow.

 
          
The
fire colors everything.

 
          
Even
the moon ...

           
No. This makes no sense. This isn't
what happened.

 
          
You
tear free from little Julie ... and watch.

 
          
Dazed,
numb with shock and horror, you see Nathan scoop up the hysterical twins and
toss them like so much baggage into the backseat of Eathan's car. Then he
retrieves his journals and the duffel bag and places them in the front seat.

 
          
A
siren begins to wail in the distance as he speeds away.

 
          
You
don't absorb much of what follows. You see him take the girls to the basement
of Eathan's home. He forces more pills into them while they cry. He flashes
lights in their eyes and tells them over and over to imagine their father
running back into the house and never coming out... running back into the house
and never coming out... telling them they will remember nothing of tonight
except their daddy carrying them to safety, Daddy telling them he's going back
for their mother, and then running back into the flames.

 
          
Somehow,
the girls stop crying.

 
          
And
then Nathan reappears, only now he's wearing a beard exactly like his brother's,
and telling the girls over and over that they will call him Uncle Eathan from
now on, only Uncle Eathan, and all they will remember about tonight is...

 
          
It
goes on and on, but then he begins adding a new twist to the message:

 
          
If
they ever remember anything else other than what he has said, they will die.

 
          
They
will die.
The memory will kill them, so if they wish to live, they must
never, ever remember what happened tonight.

 
          
And
then he's driving them into the woods, walking them in among the trees, and
leaving them with only the man in the moon as guardian.

 
          
They
huddle together, cold and miserable, wondering how they got here....

 
          
Suddenly
the scene goes blank. More than blank. Dark. No blue screen, no button bar,
readout. Dead. A system failure. You grasp your headset and
—

 
          
Quintilius:
"A liar
should
have a good memory."

—
Random
notes: Julia Gordon

           
Julie pulled her head free and
looked around. Night had fallen but someone had turned on the room light. She
looked toward the monitor. Dead. The VCR too
—
no
power. For a minute she'd thought she was trapped in there, in her own mind.
But it was okay, only a
—

 
          
She
started to rise from the recliner, and a hand gripped her shoulder.

 
          
She
gasped and looked up.

 
          
"Eathan!"

 
          
No
—
not Eathan. She knew that now.

 
          
Nathan.

 
          
A
tsunami of rage surged through her, overpowered her, Punched her at him,
clawing at his face, reaching for his eyes.

 
          
Roughly,
he shoved her back into the recliner.

 
          
"Stay
right where you are, Julia."

 
          
He
restrained her until she realized that he was heavier and stronger, and had
enough leverage to hold her in place indefinitely.

 
          
She
stopped struggling and lay there panting, glaring at him as he moved around and
sat on the edge of the recliner, facing her. His eyes were cold, his expression
unreadable behind the beard. But he knew where she'd been, knew what she'd
seen. She was sure of that.

 
          
But
she could find no hint of remorse in his face.

 
          
She
closed her eyes as bile surged into her throat. What he did, what he
did!
Murdered
her mother, and her real father. And all these years pretending to be the
brother he murdered. And she all these years loving and respecting and admiring
that.

 
          
She
was going to be sick. No. She couldn't be. Not in front of this man. She
swallowed, waited for the nausea to pass, then opened her eyes and stared at
him.

 
          
God,
the sight of him repulsed her. And the thought of being alone with him
terrified her.

 
          
"Help!"
she shouted. "Nurse! Help! Get in here!"

 
          
"Don't
bother," Nathan said. "The cook and the maid are gone for the day,
and I fired the nurse."

 
          
"You're
lying."

 
          
"No.
I found her sitting outside the door, made a big scene about abandoning her
patient, and fired her on the spot." His, smile never got near his eyes.
"I'm a
most
concerned uncle."

 
          
"You're
a monster."

 
          
"I
believe we've already had that conversation. It bored me the first time."

 
          
"You'd
better get used to boredom," she said through her teeth. "You're
going to spend the rest of your days behind bars. I only wish
New York
had had the death penalty
then. I'd love to see you fry!"

 
          
Nathan
laughed. "Oh, I don't think so."

 
          
"I've
got evidence. I remember now. I know who you are. I know what you did. God,
I've even got it on tape!"

 
          
Nathan
shook his head slowly, and something about the ease of gesture sent a bolt of
cold fear through Julie. He was too relaxed, too confident for someone who'd
just been exposed as a double murderer.

           
He said, "Sorry. That tape
won't exist by the end of the night, and
—
"

 
          
"There's
another in
New York
," Julie said, blurting
the lie and hoping he'd buy it. "Dr. Siegal saw everything."

 
          
"Julie,
Julie." Nathan sighed. "You're a brilliant young woman
—
and you shouldn't forget how much of that brilliance you
owe to me
—
but I've been ahead of you
all the way. If I'd let you rummage through the bird's nest of wires and cables
you've got behind the cabinet with the monitor and the VCR, you'd find a small
RF video transmitter. The receiver is in the basement, hooked up to my own
VCR."

 
          
Another
chill rattled through Julie. "So you've been watching all along."

 
          
"Not
all along. Only since before my
London
trip earlier in the week. I
became suspicious when you said you'd ‘forgotten’ to record a session. That
wasn't like you. So I decided to install my own safeguard against any further
lapses in memory. It came in quite handy today. By the way, I never did get to
London
today. I called cook a
little while ago and told her I'd be late and not to fix you dinner
—
I was taking you to the Bay Hotel. But I came back as soon
as she left and reviewed the tape. I can't tell you how relieved I was when I
saw that the blocked memory was destroyed, how you failed to reconnect
Samantha. I thought I was home free. But I've got to hand it to you, Julia: You
are one persistent little devil."

 
          
"I'm
not the devil here."

 
          
"Whatever.
As for the missing tape, I eventually learned its contents from
Alma
. I do wish I'd known
sooner. I could have headed off this nasty scene."

 
          
"
Alma
told you?"

 
          
"Yes.
She was an exceptional woman. She'd gained a handle on the imagery of
Samantha's memoryscape, reading into things I'd seen but thought nothing of.
She thought Samantha was suffering from a delusion that Nathan was still alive.
That concerned me no end, because I feared
Alma
would begin talking this
up, and between the two of you, and with more information from the memoryscape
—
especially all that recurring hack-from-the-dead imagery
—
you might determine that it wasn't a delusion. That perhaps
Nathan had somehow risen from the ashes."

           
"You
killed
her!"                                                                           
;

 
          
He
shrugged. "Quite regretfully. I suggested we take a walk in the night air
to discuss these things. And you know how treacherous those cliffs can be."

 
          
Another
wave of nausea.
Three
murders. And Julie had implicated Liam in
Alma
's death.

 
          
"Why?"
Julie whispered.

 
          
"I
believe I just told you
—
"

 
          
"No.
Why everything? Why this whole elaborate ... ?"
Her
voice failed
her.

 
          
"Charade?
It's not so elaborate, really. It just seems that way. It began when I couldn't
get permission for human trials of my neurohormone protocol, and couldn't get
grants for the necessary animal studies to qualify for the clinical trials.
The proverbial Catch-Twenty-Two. I was in a terrible state, swinging between
dark depression and manic agitation. No money, too; I didn't know what to do.

 
          
"And
then your mother, my wife, true-blue Lucy, announced she was pregnant. Now this
puzzled me. After years of trying we'd never been able to have children. We'd
just about given up hope, and frankly my sex drive had fizzled during the
stress of that past year
—
so much so that I couldn't
remember the last time we'd had sex. And my dear brother had been hanging
around an awful lot lately. Puzzlement turned to suspicion,
but
I
refused to believe that my wife and my own twin brother would betray me like
that. It took me almost the entire duration of the pregnancy
—
a somewhat shortened term because you were twins
—
to find the nerve to get a sperm count. Well"
—
he smirked
—
"you know the
results."

 
          
Julie
nodded. "Sterile."

 
          
"Yes.
I raged privately, and that was when I decided to
kill
them both. But
before I could conceive a plan, your mother went into labor and delivered
twins. Identical twins."

 
          
Julie
gripped the armrests of her recliner. "And suddenly you had the raw
material for your human trials."

 
          
"And
the ultimate revenge. I don't believe in God, but can't you almost see the hand
of divine retribution in this?"

 
          
"No,"
Julie said. "Not at all."

 
          
"Yes,
well, perhaps not. No matter. I seized the opportunity and began dosing you and
Samantha according to my protocol."

 
          
"But
you could never publish the results."

 
          
"That
didn't matter so much as proving to myself that I was right. If you two worked
out according to plan, I would continue pursuing grants. If you failed, I'd
know I was on the wrong track and go back to basic research."

 
          
"Well,"
she said grimly, "you succeeded."

 
          
"Oh,
yes. Beyond my wildest dreams."

 
          
"But
Eathan found out and you had to kill him."

 
          
"Oh,
I'd already decided to kill him and Lucy. I'd been laying the groundwork for
years. I took out the insurance policies on both of us
—
that looks much less suspicious than to keep one on your
wife only
—
and drew up the will and the
trusts. The only question was when. Sooner or later? My precarious financial
situation was forcing me to act sooner. It was deteriorating as quickly as my
marriage. The bank was threatening to foreclose ... a terrible thing. I loathed
your mother for what she'd done. I only stayed married to her to be with you
two. But I knew that when I lost the house, I'd lose Lucy and her twins."

 
          
"Your
two little experiments."

 
          
"Exactly.
I had the plan in place
—
the fire, switching places
with Eathan
—
everything was ready to go.
The time was now, but I lacked the nerve to do it. I imagined so many things
that could go wrong and trip me up.... I delayed for months. I might never have
done a thing if Eathan hadn't found my journals and read them. By telling
Lucy, he forced my hand. Not only would I lose the twins, but 1 risked
exposure, arrest, and even jail. I had to act immediately."

 
          
Julie's
head whirled. Her father was her uncle who became her father but was really her
uncle. A flesh-and-blood matrioshka doll.

 
          
"But
the coroner's report," she said. "The dental records proved without a
doubt
—
"

 
          
"That
the corpse was Nathan?" His grin was genuine now. He really seemed to
enjoy telling his tale. "I'm very proud of that one. You see, I made sure
that I went to the same dentist as Eathan. When I decided the time had come to
put my plan into action, I sneaked into the dentist's office
—
no big deal, really; Millburn was a homey
little
town
in 1972 and the idea of a security system back then was utterly absurd
—
and switched the first letters on our names. Close
inspection might show evidence of an alteration, but the coroner and the insurance
inspectors all worked from photocopies. They never even had a clue. In one fell
swoop I'd solved all my familial and financial problems. My only worry was you
two. I'd dosed you with propranolol
—
"