Sam: A Novel Of Suspense (24 page)

Sammie
giggled.  “Excellent.  Then I trust you will not tell my mother you’ve seen
me.  The night is endless and I wish to enjoy it a little longer.  The moon is
magnificent right now.  I hear it singing to me.”

Mike
didn’t know what to say, so he laughed nervously.

“I
see nothing funny,” Sammie said, in a voice that was both soothing and angry at
the same time.  “Leave me in peace, Michael.  Now!”

Michael
left Sammie alone in the kitchen, moving as quickly as his feet would carry
him.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

“It’s
almost nine-o-clock,” said Angela. 

She
was now officially nervous.  The fact that she was looking out of the bedroom
window at a full moon when there should have been a morning sun was enough to
frighten her on a deep, primal level.  Human existence relied on certain
constants: there would be air to breath, food to eat, and the sun would rise
each morning.  Delete one of those constants and things went terribly wrong.

Tim
came and stood beside her at the window.  “This is bad, isn’t it?  Like, horror-movie
bad?”

Angela
nodded.  Clearly something bad was at work in this house; something powerful
and malevolent.  One man was already dead and Angela feared it was only the
start of something even worse.  “I need to perform another exorcism,” she
stated. “But this time I need to be more…aggressive.”

“What
do you mean?” Tim asked her.

Angela
walked over to her suitcase and pulled out her exorcism kit.  From inside she
pulled out a long, stiletto-like dagger.  “There’s something called a blood
exorcism.  It is something that the church condones only in absolute
emergencies – no official records have ever been kept.  There hasn’t been one
performed in over seventy years.”

Tim
nodded.  “But you know how to do one, right?”

Angela
nodded.  She remembered the Secrecy Order she’d been forced to sign.  She
remembered slicing into the flesh of rabbits and guinea pigs as she practised
the sacred rituals.  “I learned the Sacrament of Cursed Flesh a long time ago,
but I remember everything – a person doesn’t forget a thing like that.  There
is just one problem though.”

Tim
frowned at her.  “What is it?”

“If
I perform the Sacrament, there is a chance that Sammie could die.  To banish
the demon from his soul, I will have to take him to the brink of death.  That
is the only way to weaken the demon’s influence and expel it.”

“Hell’s
bells,” said Tim.

Angela
nodded.  “Let’s hope the Lord is with us this day.  We will need His guidance.”

“I
think I should probably do some praying of my own.”

“You
believe in God, Tim?”

Tim
smiled.  “No, I was thinking about praying to my guardian, Thor.”

Angela
looked at Tim’s unflinching face and wondered if he were crazy.  Then she said,
“That’s a joke, isn’t it?”

Tim
laughed.  “Levity is as important as religion at times like this.”

“I
agree.”

“So
what can I do?  I want to be involved this time.  Let me help.”

“I
want you to.  Go to the kitchen and see if you can find any basil.”

“Basil?”

Angela
nodded.  “Where basil is, no evil lives.  Sprinkle it in as many rooms as you
can – particularly across the thresholds.  It will confine the demon’s
influence and weaken it.  If you mix it with Black pepper, even better.”

“Okay,”
said Tim, shrugging his shoulders but seeming happy to go along.  “I’m on it.”

He
went to walk past Angela but she reached out and grabbed his arm.  She looked
him in the eye.  “Be careful.  I don’t want you getting hurt.  If this is going
to work then I will need your help.”

Tim
raised his fist at her in a gesture of solidarity.  It was a manoeuvre more
suited to a seven-foot basketball player than a skinny, white, ginger dude, but
she appreciated his show of support.  He had her back.

It
was time to put a stop to all this.

Angela
put on her cassock and smoothed it down with her hands.  She looked in the
mirror at her tired face and couldn’t believe how much it had changed in less
than a week.  Weakness clung to every one of her bones, but her mind was still
strong; her will resolute.  For the first time in a long time, Angela felt like
she was doing God’s work again.  It felt good.

She
pulled her crucifix from underneath her clothing and let it hang against the
jet-black fabric of her cassock.

May
Jesus Christ guide me.  May the Lord protect me.  May Heaven watch over my soul
as it journeys the righteous path.

She
picked up her Bible from where it sat on her bedside table and clutched it
close against her breast.  With her other hand, she clutched the ceremonial
dagger.  It was made from Damascus steel and etched with the verses of
Genesis
.

Deliver
me, I pray thee.

Angela
was ready to do what was needed.  The only thing left to do was find Sammie.

Hopefully
before he finds me.

Angela
stepped out of the bedroom, taking a candle with her.  She felt like Florence
Nightingale as she floated down the corridor in her small globe of light.  For
a moment she had the strange feeling that the hallway was infinite, stretching
on endlessly, but then the stairway appeared on her right and she breathed a
sigh of relief.

I’m
being paranoid.

She
headed down the stairs and could hear the sounds of banging from below. 
Eventually she encountered Mike and Jessica on the ground floor.  They were
working at getting the front door open.

“Is
it still stuck?”  Angela asked as she exited the staircase.

Jessica
turned around and gave her a stern look, but gradually forced a polite smile. 
“Morning, Angela.  If you’re looking for Tim, he just headed into the kitchen. 
I take it, from what you’re wearing, you intend on staying?”

“If
you’ll allow me to.  Not like I can leave, really.”

Jessica
took in a large breath and let it out in an exasperated sigh.  “I haven’t yet
decided.  I just want to focus on getting this door open first.”

“Okay,”
said Angela.  “Can I help at all?”

“No,”
said Mike.  He was brandishing a badly bent chef’s knife in his hand.  “We have
everything under control.”

Jessica
shrugged.  “I don’t suppose you’ve spotted Sammie anywhere yet?”

Angela
shook her head.  “Afraid I’ve been in my bedroom.  Tim and I can look for him
now if you wish.”

Jessica
nodded, her pointed chin cutting through the air.  “Yes, that would be most
helpful.”

Angela
saw Jessica’s attitude as a good sign.  It seemed the lady of the house had
calmed down slightly since their previous altercation in Joseph Raymeady’s
office.

Acting
on the information she’d been given, Angela headed across the foyer towards the
kitchens.  There was a good chance that Tim still intended to leave, but at
least he had no choice to at the moment, not until the doors were open again.

Entering
the kitchen, Angela found it empty.  There was a candle burning on the centre work
surface and several of the cupboards had been left open.  It certainly appeared
that somebody had been there recently.

Angela
approached the centre table with the candle.  There seemed to be something lying
on its surface.  She tiptoed, not wanting to risk injury by rushing around the
unlit room.

Almost
20% of accidents occur in the kitchen.

As
she got closer, the object revealed itself to be a piece of paper. Angela was
just about to pick it up when somebody grabbed her from behind.  She shrieked.

“I’m
not sure you want to look at that,” said Tim.

Angela
punched him in the arm.  “You sod!  Almost gave me heart attack.  Where were
you hiding?”

“Wasn’t
hiding.  There’s a meat locker back there.  I smelt something rotten so I
checked it out.  Just a bunch of spoiled meat, though; nothing…
omen-y
or
anything.”

“Okay,”
said Angela.  “So what is this thing that I don’t want to look at?”

Tim
pointed at the piece of paper on the work surface.  “It’s another one of
Sammie’s drawings.  Seems like we might have just missed him.”

Angela
frowned.  “What would he have been doing in the kitchen?”

Tim
shrugged his shoulders.  “Getting a snack?”

Angela
took the final few steps over to the table and reached for the piece of paper. 
She pinched it between her fingers and thumb, then slid it towards her.

“Oh,
how delightful,” she said, clearing her throat of the mucus that suddenly rose
up to fill it.  “Let’s just hope this isn’t a literal interpretation.”

“You’re
telling me,” Tim agreed.

Angela
turned the picture in her hands and looked at it from all angles.  It was
obvious that the four bodies swinging from the charcoal balcony were supposed
to represent Mike, Jessica, Tim, and herself.  All of them hung by broken necks
and their eyes were gouged out and bleeding.  The detail was immaculate for a
child’s crayon drawing.  It was almost as if the colours were dancing on the
page and giving life to the flat, waxy images.

“Should
we take it as a threat?” Tim queried.

“Definitely,”
she said. “But it also means something else.”

“What?”

“If
Chamuel is making threats it’s because he’s scared.  He knows we’re coming for
him.”

Tim
laughed nervously.  “Either that, or Sammie is trying to warn us about what
will happen if we don’t leave this house.

I
guess we’ll find out soon enough
, thought Angela as she
tore the drawing to pieces.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Angela
and Tim joined Jessica and Mike in the foyer.  When they got there it seemed
that Jessica had just about given up trying to get the door open.  The sleeves
of her blouse were rolled up around the elbows and her sweaty forehead sheened
in the moonlight.

Angela
decided not to waste any time.  “I want to perform another exorcism.”

Jessica
didn’t hesitate.  “No!  Mike told me the last time didn’t do any good so what
would be the point of putting Sammie through such a thing again?”

“There
are other rituals I can try.”

“Look,”
Jessica said.  “I’ve had a think about it and, while I appreciate that I was
the one who asked you both here, I think our business is done.  I don’t believe
you can help my son.  In fact I feel quite silly for having ever asked for your
help in the first place.”

“I
can still help you,” Angela protested.  “You were right to ask for help.”

“The
only help you can be to me right now is by finding Sammie and getting him back
to his room safe and sound.  You’ll be paid generously for your time, Ms Murs,
but I feel it would be best if you left us at dinnertime.  Mike will have to
drive you if Frank hasn’t returned by then.”

Tim
stepped forwards and was actually pulling his hair with frustration.  “Are you
not seeing what we’re seeing?  There’re a couple of concerns I have with what
you’ve just said.  Number one is that Frank left the house going on twelve
hours ago and hasn’t returned from a trip that should have taken him no more
than an hour or two.  Number two is that your request for us to leave at
dinnertime is slightly marred by the fact that no one can get the frickin doors
or windows open.  I won’t even go into the fact that, according to that moon
out there, lunchtime is still a long way away.”  Tim took a moment to catch his
breath, then continued.  “You tried to commit suicide last night, Miss
Raymeady, and then you went blind – although only temporarily – and to top it
all off, one of your employees is hanging dead out of a hot tub upstairs.”

Jessica
gawped at him.  “What?  Who is dead?”

Mike
was the one to tell her, although he seemed reluctant to do so.  He skirted
over the more gruesome details about how they had found him.

Jessica
put her hands against her face and growled in frustration.  “Graham is dead?  I
don’t believe this.  How?”

“Somebody
cut him and he bled to death.” Tim explained.

“Take
me to him.  I need to see for myself.  Has anyone called the police yet?”

“I
tried,” said Angela, “but the phones are all dead.  As for seeing him yourself,
I wouldn’t advise it.  There’s a lot of blood.”

“Try
giving birth, Ms Murs.  I can handle blood.”

Nobody
was in the mood to argue and Jessica was so adamant that they all went back
upstairs.  As they walked the second-floor hallway, there was a brief
flickering of the lights and it appeared that the power might come back on, but
it was not to be.  After a brief flash of colour and light, making the bright
red of the carpet come temporarily back into view, the darkness resumed. In
fact it now seemed even deeper.