Falling into Forever (24 page)

“I made a wrong turn on my way home from the airport,” she explained. “My mom is flying to Miami as we speak.”

Her eyes turned upward as storm clouds gathered around the moon. “She's an epidemiologist for the Centers for Disease Control.”

“Interesting,” offered Callahan, scratching his chin. “I would like to meet her. When does she return?”

“We don't know yet.”

“She trusts you to stay home alone?”

“I've never done anything for her to distrust me.”

“You're not afraid? It's a big city.”

“I wasn't, but I might have to reconsider the matter, after the way this day has gone.”

Thunder slapped their ears, and sprinkles of cool rain pelted Alexandra's blazer and soaked her hair.

“Could I borrow a towel?” she asked, running her fingers through the damp auburn tresses.

“Wait right here. Do not go anywhere,” he said, glancing at the cemetery across the street. Then he disappeared through the front door.

Alone on the porch, she approached a wooden swing swaying in the gathering breeze. She flung her tired bones down on the seat. Pushing the swing back and forth with her legs, Alexandra listened to the rain falling on the porch roof.

Are you in there?
She stared across the street.
Are you
following me?

Alexandra gripped the medallion in her palm.
I know
what I saw in that tree, and I know what I heard. Someone or
something is out there.

“What do you want?” she calmly said aloud as a hot bolt of lightning shot from the sky into the cemetery.

In the flash of white light, she saw a four-legged figure walking on the top of the stone wall. A clap of thunder rattled the porch and shook the window behind her. Then a second bolt of lighting struck the middle of the cemetery and illuminated the sky. The creature was watching her, its muzzle frothing at her scent.

Alexandra heard Callahan's front door creak open. Bits of hail began to fall across the front yard. The crash of the icy stones pinged against the hood of her broken-down Jeep, dead at the curb.

“This din is enough to wake the dead,” said Callahan loudly, handing Alexandra a warm, dry towel. When his hand brushed against her fingers, she grabbed his forearm anxiously.

“Look,” she demanded when he sat down beside her.

“Look where?” he asked, his arm growing tense beneath her firm grasp.

“Look at the wall, Callahan, and tell me you see it.”

“There is no one there,” he replied, standing up when her grip slackened. “Perhaps I should have a look, though.”

“No. Don't go.” She pulled at his cape while he stood at the porch banister.

Lightning streaked across the heavens long enough for Callahan to see the creature arch his back, the fur bristling across his spine. The creature jumped off the wall, running back into the cemetery.

Callahan stumbled backward from the porch banister. “Inside!” he ordered, slamming the wooden door behind them.

Bolting the lock, he pushed her into a cramped foyer flanked on either side by an empty dining room and a sparsely furnished living room.

“Don't move,” he whispered to Alexandra. He didn't have to tell her, as she already stood motionless on a parquet square at the foot of a steep staircase. Walking into the living room, Callahan peeked through the heavy, drawn curtains.

“Can you see anything?” Alexandra called to him, sitting down on the bottom step of the staircase.

“The rain is too heavy,” he replied over his shoulder.

Her empty stomach turned sour. “Do you have a bathroom?” she asked, falling forward on her knees.

“Under the staircase,” Callahan said, pointing to a door in the hallway behind the foyer.

Crawling inside, Alexandra flipped the light switch, to no avail. “There's no power,” she called to him, her voice muffled by the closed door.

“No worries,” Callahan said, shutting the curtain.

Behind him there was a carved wooden mantel, framing a soot-stained fireplace. “Perhaps I'll start a fire,” he called toward the bathroom. “You were shivering.”

“I think I'm going to be sick,” she told him. “I really don't feel well.” Her body slumped to the cold tile, while her fingers fumbled in the dark for the toilet lid.

“I'll get some candles from the attic,” he announced calmly. “Stay in there, Alexandra. I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere.”

“Where am I going to go?” she mumbled, hovering over the toilet.

“What did you say, Miss Peyton? Should I come in there?”

“No, Callahan. Just go find the candles,” she insisted. “I'll be okay.”

“Your book bag is just outside the door here in the hallway, by the way,” he said, stepping on the bottom stair in the foyer. “It's been beeping at me since you crawled in there.”

“Please hurry, Callahan,” Alexandra pleaded. “I'm scared.” Dragging her body across the cold ceramic bathroom tile, she slumped sideways against the closed door. Outside in the storm, thunderbolts rumbled through the sky, violently shaking the beams of the old house. Above her, Callahan's hurried steps pounded on the staircase.

Cracking open the door, Alexandra reached for the bag and raked it inside the bathroom. Twisting the door lock, she read the bright call screen, its light illuminating the cramped bathroom enough for her to notice no sign of any toilet paper.

Men
, she thought, perching herself on the sink. Twenty text messages from Taylor waited.

Each message was the same: “Call me,” Alexandra read aloud. The phone searched for a signal when she dialed the number. “No signal,” she sighed.

Callahan's footsteps pounded back down the staircase. Even so, when his fist pounded on the door, Alexandra was startled. Her phone slipped from her hands, smashing apart on the tile floor.

“Can you open the door?” he asked frantically.

“Hold on,” she said, kneeling to search the dark tile for the plastic pieces. From under the door came the scent of warm apple pie.

“Are you baking?” she asked, unlocking the door.

“The scent is apple spice,” he explained sheepishly, holding a glass jar toward her face, their eyes meeting in the candlelight. “I couldn't find anything else in the dark.”

“Delicious,” she said. Her stomach growled loudly.

“Was that you or the storm?” Callahan joked while thunder rumbled outside the house.

“Let me see that,” she said, reaching her hand out for the candle. She stooped to the ground. The battery and case lay beside each other behind the toilet. “Yuck,” she moaned, her hands shaking madly as she snapped the pieces of the phone back together.

“It looks like power is out all along the street,” Callahan called from the living room window. “Whatever we saw across the street is gone for now, too,” he tried to reassure her. “I'd like to look a bit closer, though, to be sure of it.”

Standing in the bathroom doorway, Alexandra shoved the phone in her skirt pocket. “You're not leaving me alone,” she ordered him when she saw him place his hand on the front door knob. The floor beams beneath their feet shook in the thunder.

Callahan cracked the door ajar and hovered at the threshold while the wind and rain battered against the house. “I believe your car window is open,” he said, turning his head to Alexandra. “Shall I go out there and close it, Miss Peyton? I'd hate for it to get soaking wet.”

“Go outside?” she asked stepping from the bathroom. “Are you crazy? A little bit of rain isn't going to hurt that piece of junk.” Alexandra watched helplessly while he placed a leg onto the porch.

“Don't go,” she yelled lunging toward the door. “Don't leave me alone.”

Here we go again,
the thought flittered through her head when her foot found a puddle of water on the slick wooden floor, and her legs collapsed beneath her.

Crumpled in a sobbing ball, Alexandra buried her face in her hands.

“Look at me,” Callahan said, kneeling down beside her.

“No,” she said, shaking her head, her cheeks burning.

“Miss Peyton, we need to get you home. This storm will eventually die down. I'll call a taxi and ride with you, to make sure you get there safely. Everything is going to be okay.”

His hand stroked the back of her damp hair.

“Thank you, Callahan,” she gushed, raising her sad, green eyes to his concerned face.

Rising to his feet, Callahan helped her up from the wet floor. “The weather is only getting worse out there,” he said, as thunder echoed through the rooms.

“I've never seen a storm like this,” she said, nodding, while high above their heads, from the direction of the attic, a tremendous thump shook the house.

“What was that?” they asked, turning to each other, their eyes trailing up the steep, darkened staircase.

“Did a tree limb just fall on the roof? Or is there something in the attic?” Alexandra asked breathlessly.

“Don't panic,” he mustered.

“But I heard—” she tried to speak, but Callahan threw his hand across her mouth.

“Shhh,” he whispered, holding a finger to his lips. “Let me listen.” His eyes darted over the ceiling as the house shook. “It sounds as if someone is leaping around on the roof.”

Alexandra squealed.

“The bathroom,” he said, ordering her back under the stairs. “Lock it,” he insisted through the heavy wooden door. Crouching on the floor, Alexandra quivered as she heard Callahan's footsteps racing up the staircase.

The candle burned on the vanity, throwing distorted shadows against the walls around her. The small, enclosed room filled rapidly with a sickeningly sweet apple scent. Alexandra clutched her rumbling stomach and snatched her cell phone out of her skirt pocket. One signal bar popped up on the screen, along with a new text message from Taylor.

“Finally,” she muttered. “Ben and I are coming to get you,” Alexandra read. She shook her head.
Coming here?
How?
She pressed the phone hard against her face.

Ring. Ring.
The irritating buzzes echoed through her head.

“What do you want?” Taylor's voicemail answered. Just at the same time, the old house shuddered loudly around her. Terrified, Alexandra could not answer because her voice was frozen in her throat. Hanging up, she quickly tried the number again, but the signal bar had abandoned her.

What am I going to do?
On the countertop, the candle flickered with each heavy sigh of her breath.

Dropping the phone back into her pocket, Alexandra caught her reflection in the mirror. Deep shadows cut across her tired face. She rubbed her stinging eyes and splashed cold water from the faucet across her cheeks.

“Why can't I hear Callahan?” she asked aloud, her voice echoing in room.

She suddenly heard a voice call her name, and it wasn't Callahan.

Alexandra!

She jumped backward from the sink.

It repeated:
Alexandra!

She blew out the candle, a chill running down her spine. Curls of smoke filled her nostrils. She pressed her ear to the door, checking the lock again to be sure she had turned it as Callahan had told her to do.

Alexandra!
the voice said again.

“Who are you?” she asked aloud inside the dark room, her eyes darting back and forth. “What do you want from me?” The empty room merely swallowed her cries. Fear gripped her chest; her lungs panted for air.

The voice dripped from the walls, clinging to Alexandra's body and drowning her heart in terror. It said,
I will tell you everything. Please come to me.

Her fingers fumbled with the lock, finally flinging the door wide open to the empty hallway. Lunging from the room, she felt fresh air flooding her chest. A couple of stories above her head, a door slammed and faint footsteps ran across a wooden floor. Huddling against the front door, she pressed her ear to the wood and listened. The rain still pounded against the porch roof. In the distance, the siren of a fire engine blared louder and louder as it neared Callahan's quiet street.

The voice found her again.
Alexandra
, it coaxed.

Her chest cramped, aching for air. “Where are you?” she yelled helplessly.

The footsteps on the floor above her grew louder. Her hand gripped the doorknob, and her fingers slowly unlocked the bolt.

Hurry
, the voice whispered in her ear.

She threw open the front door. The wind blasted the wooden siding, and sheets of rain violently hit the street.

A fire engine raced down the street, its horn blasting. The flashing red lights illuminated the front of the house as it passed. In their haste, none of the firefighters noticed Alexandra running from the house into the storm-soaked street. They raced on their way, oblivious to her nightmare.

Standing on the street, Alexandra let the rain fall hard on her body. “Here I am,” she shouted, turning her face to the sky. Raising her arms high above her head, she shouted into the night, “Come and get me.”

18
Wings

Crouching underneath Callahan's porch, the snarling beast flared his nostrils as the storm's howling wind blew Alexandra's scent into his face. The thick, brown fur upon the ridge of his spine raised as his bulging muscles tensed for a strike.

From his muzzle, a low growl escaped into the night. Alexandra turned her rain-soaked face toward the porch, fighting the misty rain to judge his distance. Stretching his paws and arching his back, the wolf howled with anticipation.

She could not look to Callahan to help her. Callahan was in the stairwell to the attic. He climbed toward the top step, while above his head he heard the sound of scratching mingle with the echo of thunder and heavy rain.

“What madness has befallen us?” he shouted into the darkness. The steps seemed to sway beneath his feet.