Gridlocked Guesthouse (Locked House Hauntings Book 1) (12 page)

Ben died from complications to his beating. Seriously. I know I keep saying that, but I'm a little worried you've been sucked into this whole ghost nonsense. Just because a few people have unfortunately died doesn't mean that they are being haunted by the old residents in the house. It's not like we are sure what happened. Jenny does seem awful fucking calm, doesn't she? Tied up, goat butchered, and she just takes a licking and keeps on ticking. I wish I had that girl's moxie.

They didn't find Rachel or Cletus upon further searching of the house.

Mikaela was the first one to say she was going to walk. "What if we all went together to get help? We can make it down the road together, I'm sure. We can... carry Beezer and we'll have to leave..." She didn't want to say the dead. Leave the dead in the haunted house. "We can make it."

Beezer said, "You know, I've been waiting all my life for you dopes to carry me to and fro like a fricking king." He sat up slowly and gingerly put his broken leg and totally fine leg flat footed on the ground. "If we made some crutches, I might even be able to walk a little."

"All hail King Beezer," Tiffany said halfheartedly.

"Beezer!" Mike and Zane said simultaneously. And everyone giggled. It was good; they needed a giggle. They were so fucking scared, and more than one of them had a sore throat from screaming so often, and so hard, and so real.

It was seven at night, and darkness had already fallen. Walking down the road should have been started hours ago if they had any wits about them. But they were dumb-ass college kids and didn't have a single wit between them.

They got on the road and started walking. Ten of them now, with Rachel inexplicably missing. Cletus was missing too, and so was the rest of Carson.

They made a hammock for Beezer with a sheet from the master bedroom. They tied it to two long broom handles they found. Mike stood in front, and Ricky stood in back.

"I don't want to leave Rachel," Ricky said, looking back slowly. Does it make your heart flutter a little? He really was the kind of man with a lot of love to give.

"We can't help her if we can't find her," Mike said. "Besides, if we get some help..." He didn't finish his thought, but what he was trying to say was maybe everyone remaining would survive.

Ben was dead. Rafael was dead, Rachel was missing.

So they walked, Mikaela and Zane together. Jenny, Beth, and Tiffany leading the way, holding a few jugs of water. Mike and Ricky together with the makeshift carrying for Beezer device. Lucy and John, who had been very quiet up until now, suddenly stopped. "Guys, we are gonna wait here."

"Are you sure?"

"Beezer, do you want to stay with us?" Lucy said. She was pale.

Tiffany said, "But, John! We have to go together." She looked frightened.

"I don't want to leave Rafael," Lucy said. She stepped back to the house, sitting on the dark front steps.

"She shouldn't stay alone," John said, as if that would satisfy Tiffany. Then he turned and walked back to the girl who was in her zombie state, staring at the world.

"But we have to stay together!" Tiffany shouted.

Jenny suddenly shouted, "Stay in the safe room!" You might have a chance in the safe room; safe was part of the title, after all.

Beezer joined in, "Leave me behind; you'll go faster without me. Guys, just--put me back on the couch. Just leave me." He had terror in his voice, like he wanted anything but to be on that couch again.

Mike and Ricky exchanged a glance. "Well, if Rachel shows up, at least someone can tell her where we went."

Mike mouthed, "Leave him?" And Ricky nodded seriously. So they put Beezer back inside on the couch and they left. Now they were a bedraggled clan of seven. Would they make it out of there?

It was dark as hell. And they didn't have any lights, so they just walked along the road the best they could in the dark. If they stayed on the road, maybe they would find a car. Maybe they would.

But I can't say I was expecting that they would.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Lucy sat staring at the wall, not speaking to either man. Beezer was dozing. He was hoping if he slept, then he'd wake up to an ambulance worker, preferably a busty nurse, slowly popping his pants open and asking him to show her where it hurt. Of course, in his fantasies, she wasn't wearing anything other than the nurse's hat.

But John was fidgety. He paced in the safe room. Often he would get so close that his toes would touch the dark hallway with the wooden steps. But he never stepped out of the room. He was whispering to himself.

Beezer finally said, "Hey, dude, shut up. Some of us want to sleep."

But he ignored his friend's pleas and kept whispering to himself. His mouth moved, but no sounds passed his lips. He seemed to be psyching himself up to leave the room and look for Rachel or take a piss or whatever it was that he was thinking about doing.

Slowly, his whispers grew louder. Just barely audible. "It won't take very long. You can do this."

Beezer's ears perked up. Do what?

"Just take a pillow and do it. He deserves it," John whispered again, in big paces back and forth in front of the couch, to the hallway with the wooden stairs, and back looping to the main entrance with the staircase.

"If she could do it, you can do it." His voice seemed determined, but what the fuck was he talking about?

Beezer tried to close his eyes and let himself drift for a moment, but then he caught words that scared him.

"He should die."

The hairs on his neck rose, and he hoped to fucking hell Tiffany hadn't told him about that night where he seduced her. He shouldn't have pressed her so hard; he knew she only sort of wanted to,
but she sort of wanted to!
That was enough for him at the time. It wasn't like he raped her. She did, after all, take her own panties off. But... but... John and her broke up so quickly afterwards Beezer couldn't help but feel guilty. Less than a month after he banged his friend's girl...

He shouldn't have done it. But he just wanted to try. You know? Just to see if he could bang another guy's girl. And Tiffany seemed awfully like a whore. She was a slut right up till the day she banged John. Then she took a long break on his dick until Beezer fucked it up.

Fucked her up.

That couldn't be...

And then, quick as lightning, John was on top of him, a pillow pressed tightly to Beezer's face. If his arm had been broken, he wouldn't have been able to fight so fucking hard, but he did fight. He shoved the man and shouted for Lucy to get off her ass.

Lucy didn't even seem to be present.

Her eyes were glazed over and she was firmly holding a glass of punch that she was sipping. Her grin was slowly growing, and suddenly, she chugged the whole thing. Everything in the cup, carefully licking the few remaining drops. The few remaining drops of Rafael's spiked punch. His glass.

In ten minutes, if she didn't hurl, she'd slowly go out, like he did, and slowly die, like he did. Once the thought gripped her, there was nothing anyone could have said to talk her out of it. She didn't want to be in this cruel world where people that she loved died over and over again. She was living in a nightmare. Her life was a nightmare and it was time to end it. My life is a nightmare too. She closed her eyes with a grin and hoped it would start soon. The smooth numbness was already crawling across her chest. Start soon, any second. Pass out and die. Didn't everyone want to die in their sleep?

Didn't they?

I don't know about you, but I'd like to die wide awake, even screaming. I wanna remember it.

So no, she didn't give a shit, and no, she wasn't aware that John was in the middle of trying to kill Beezer.

And Beezer was losing. He was struggling, and he almost threw John off him, but then John pressed his knee painfully and purposefully into Beezer's broken limb. The bones ground against each other and Beezer screamed, flailing from the pain. His swings were wild and missed John, who was right on top of him. He couldn't control himself, pissing from the pain. He was not a human anymore; he was pain. He breathed pain. He knew pain. That was who he was now.

His body shuddered underneath John, and John leaned in and screamed, "You got her fucking pregnant. She fucking killed it. You killed my fucking family." His breath was short and terrible, right in Beezer's face. And Beezer finally connected his fist to the other man's jaw. It was a loud crack and John went wide eyed from the pain and his nose started to bleed and he did the most horrifying thing.

He grabbed Beezer's broken leg and bent it up, and then further; he was oblivious to his friend's pain, his screaming, because John could only see the dead baby, the dead baby he wanted. The broken screwed-up girl he loved, and the dead baby he wanted.

Beezer's ankle twisted up to his hip, and Beezer, mid shuddering, life-changing scream, passed the fuck out. Thankfully.

It didn't take long to smother him after that.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Do you think the house did that? Do you think it was ghosts? Or did John finally snap under the pressure of being frozen after a breakup?

Do you think he did see a ghost while he was puncturing Tiffany's stomach? Maybe he was just a crazy person. Maybe he was possessed.

I don't know for sure, but I do know the man was under an extraordinary amount of pain and stress and had been recently tortured. Besides, when he decided to stay behind, Beezer wasn't even going to stay...

Or did he know that by staying behind, the others would have to decide if they were going to leave Beezer helpless on the couch. Maybe he was just hedging his bets?

Now John was the only person alive in the house. Still no sign of Rachel or Cletus.

So let's go back and see how those crazy kids were doing on the road with no flashlight. In the dark. It was nearly eight thirty now.

Ricky was impatiently leading them down the road; he was pissed as hell. He should have stayed behind and looked for Rachel. He regretted it over and over again with every step. Did they really need so many of them to walk down this road? It didn't seem like they were in a dangerous situation anymore.

Hell, Mikaela, Beth, Tiffany, and Jenny were holding arms and giggling as if this was a fucking pleasant hike and not a rescue mission. First house they found and he was calling the cops, an ambulance, and getting the hell back to the guesthouse. What if this was a huge mistake?

Mike and Zane walked behind the girls, keeping them protected in a man sandwich. Zane and Mike both held thick walking sticks. They weren't sure what the enemy was; hell, they weren't even sure if there still was an enemy on this road.

But both of them couldn't stop thinking about Ben and his brutally beaten face. They wouldn't let that happen to these girls. Never. So they walked as sentries would walk, prepared for a fight. They were cautious and made sure everyone was together.

Brave Ricky was the first one to spot a light in the distance. He broke into a jog. "Guys, I see a light. I hope it's a house."

"Slow down," Mike barked, nervous about how quickly everyone started to spread out. Jenny was jogging along with Tiffany, but Mikaela and Beth continued their leisure walking. "Shit. Girls, pick it up," Mike shouted.

Zane's eyes widened as he recognized what was happening too. Jenny and Tiffany and Ricky were already melting into the dark. The only way they could still see them was if they happened to step in front of the small light. Otherwise, they were just dim shadows.

"You catch the girls. I'll stay with Beth and Mikaela," Zane said, and Mike took off running with his stick.

It wasn't a moment later that the three of them vanished. They were split into three groups, racing towards the light at different speeds.

Mikaela and Beth and Zane were in the rear.

Ricky was the first one at the light. He stopped in a moment of panic. They had been walking for at least an hour. Maybe two; who knows--they didn't have watches or anything. They had been walking a long ways. He could feel the burning in his thighs as he stopped and panted. He was pretty fit, and he knew they had gone miles. Maybe five? Ten? It was hard to tell.

But there he was, staring at Mike's van wrapped around a concrete planter. His truck and Rachel's sandwiching Jenny's with the broken windshield. And the dim light he had been staring at was the light on in the safe room. How had they gone in a circle? It was dark, and yeah, they were staying on the main road, so maybe they accidentally took a loop instead of staying on the main road, but it seemed ridiculous. How could this have happened?

Ricky didn't move forward. He just stared at the vehicles, totally frustrated. Ten minutes later, Mike, Tiffany, and Jenny showed up.

"What the fuck?" Mike said slowly.

"How did we get back here?" said Tiffany.

"Do you think the ghosts did this?" said Jenny, her tone nervous.

"I don't know. I wasn't even sure there were ghosts," Tiffany said, her toe digging into the dirt nervously.

Smart, lovely Ricky suddenly started charging towards the front door. "I'm checking to see if Rachel's back. I've been worrying about her." He got to the front door and started pulling on it, but it didn't open. It didn't budge. Inside, they could see John slowly tying the jump rope that he took from the chandelier. Tiffany looked in the window a little closer, recognizing that Lucy was purple and dead.