The Body at Auercliff (27 page)

Chapter Fifty

Opening my eyes but seeing only darkness, it takes a moment before I realize that I'm still in the mausoleum. I think I must have blacked out for a moment, and as I sit up I feel a throbbing pain on my forehead. When I touch the sore patch of skin, I feel a faint bump and a dribble of something wet.

Blood.

Getting to my feet, I reach out into the darkness and steady myself against one of the shelves. I can't see anything, not even my hands right in front of me, but I can feel the cold, dry air in my lungs and I take a moment to clear my throat. Reaching up, I wipe dust from my lips.

Someone's watching me.

I don't know how, but I can feel a set of eyes staring straight at me and -

I wait.

No, that's how to go mad.

If I think like that, I'll lose it completely.

Fumbling against the shelf, I make my way cautiously back through the darkness, determined to get to the door and find some other way out. Every second, I have to consciously keep from crying out and panicking. My shoulder aches after trying to smash the door down, so I figure I'll have to come up with a better plan. I was definitely unconscious for a while, but I'm sure it was only a few seconds, although I feel a little dizzy and nauseous as I reach the end of the shelf and reach out to feel for the door.

Instead, my fingers brush against a brick wall. I feel around a little more, before realizing with a slow sense of dread that I must have become disorientated in the dark, and I've ended up walking all the way along to the wrong end.

“Okay,” I mutter, starting to turn, “I can do this, I just -”

Stopping suddenly, I realize I can hear a scratching sound nearby. My whole body tenses as I start worrying that something's moving inside the coffins, although after a moment I notice that the sound seems to be coming from down on the ground, next to my feet. All I want is to get out of here as quickly as possible, but I tell myself that there can't be anything too nasty on the ground, so I slowly crouch down and reach out until my hands brush against the cold brick wall.

If I find what's causing the sound, it won't scare me.

I'm sure the scratching is coming from just a few inches away, so I move my hands down the wall until I feel the spot where it meets the dusty floor. There are a couple of thick cracks in the concrete, and a moment later my fingertips dip into an even larger crack that seems to run slightly under the wall. I pull some small chunks of concrete away, while still listening to the scratching sound, and then finally I lean down and put my ear right up next to the crack.

The sound is definitely coming from down there, from a little way beneath the floor of the mausoleum.

“Mice,” I mutter out loud, “it has to be mice or -”

Suddenly there's a loud bump over my shoulder. I spin around and back against the wall, but all I see ahead is darkness. A moment later, however, I hear the bump again.

“Stay calm,” I whisper, even though my whole body is starting to shake. “Just hold it together.”

Another bump.

“Who's there?” I stammer, imagining all those coffins lining the walls. I can't see them in the dark, but I know they're still on the shelves. “Whoever you are,” I continue, “please don't -”

I let out a sudden, startled shriek as I hear the bump again, and this time I swear I also hear something brushing against the floor. In my mind's eye, I immediately imagine a pair of rotten feet shuffling this way. I'm convinced that one of the bodies has climbed out of its coffin, and it can probably see in the dark as it makes its way toward me. In a fraction of a second, I imagine tattered skin hanging from old bones, and dead eye sockets staring straight at me through the dark. Sure enough, a moment later I hear another faint shuffling sound, and the scratching from earlier seems even more furious.

“Please don't hurt me,” I whimper, with tears trickling down my face as I curl up into the tightest ball I can manage. “Please just let me go. Whoever you are, I didn't mean to come in here, it was an accident. Please just open the door and -”

I let out another gasp as I hear a creaking sound, and now it's clear that something is getting closer. I know I should be brave, but I just want to get out of here. In my head, I can see rotten fingers uncurling slowly, reaching out toward me, just inches from my face.

“Help!” I shout, hoping that someone outside the mausoleum will be able to hear me. “Mum! Dad! Somebody -”

I stop suddenly, as I realize I can hear a faint rustling sound nearby, almost as if someone leaning closer.

In my head, I see a rotten mouth starting to open.

“Leave me alone!” I scream as I stumble to my feet, rushing forward through the darkness and ducking down in case something tries to grab me. Almost tripping, I manage to stay upright long enough to reach the metal door at the far end, but no matter how hard I push, I still can't get it to open.

Over my shoulder, the scratching sound is continuing and the shuffling sound seems to be getting closer.

“Help!” I scream, pounding my fists against the door. “Somebody help me! I'm trapped in here! Please, somebody get me out!”

Tears are streaming down my face now, but I don't hear any hint of movement from the other side of the door.

“Help me!” I sob breathlessly, as I drop to my knees and keep hammering against the metal. They should be able to hear me by now, even if they're all in the house, but I don't think I have much more time left. The air seems so thin, I can barely get any into my lungs at all, and I feel as if I'm suffocating.

And still that shuffling sound comes closer.

I take a moment to focus, to stay strong. But my imagination is running wild, and in my head I can see the rotting figure limping closer. Its mouth is open, and there are still a few flakes of dead skin dried to its bones. There's even hair hanging down from its head, at least in a few places, like the old Egyptian mummies I saw once on TV, or the zombies in a movie I glimpsed when I crept downstairs one night. The worst part is the ribs, because while some of them have bits of meat dried in the gaps, others let me see right through the creature's body.

I squeeze my eyes tight shut, but now I just see the monster even more clearly.

I open my eyes again, and now I realize there are more of them.

Even though I can't see anything in the darkness, I feel certain that all the coffins are open, and that all the old occupants of Auercliff are up and about, shuffling toward me. I can hear the scratching sound still, and it's as if rotten, bony feet are making their way across the mausoleum's stone floor. They're coming for me, and they're going to pull my head back so they can dig their fingers into my belly and rip out my guts, and then they're going to bite into my intestines and tear me apart.

When my remains are eventually found, there'll be nothing left except a few old bones and a dark red stain on the concrete floor.

“Help!” I gasp, although the sobs are making my entire body tremble now as I place the side of my face against the doors cold metal. “Please, let me out... I don't want to die in here... Please...”

I wait.

Nothing.

I take a deep breath, and then another, and slowly the panic starts to fade. I know I have to do something, I can't just sit here whimpering, and I've already let my imagination go wild. There are no monsters sneaking up on me, and no-one's going to eat my guts. Taking more deep breaths, I finally feel as if I've managed to calm my fears.

“You can do this,” I say out loud, although my voice sounds frail and weak.

I pause, trying to feel stronger.

“You can do this,” I say again, and this time I sound much better.

I start running my fingers across the cold metal door, searching for the lock. I'm sure I can get it open, if I just think calmly and logically.

And then suddenly a hand touches my shoulder from behind, and I scream louder than I've ever screamed before in my life.

Chapter Fifty-One

Someone picks me up, carrying me through the forest and back toward the house. There's blood all over my dress and I can't stop screaming.

Chapter Fifty-Two

“Why the fuck was that thing left open?” Mum shouts in the next room. “Are you insane? Are you actually so fucking out of your mind that you can't even look after a fucking key, you dozy fucking bitch?”

Opening my eyes, I realize that I'm back in the house. I stare up at the ceiling for a moment, before trying to sit up. Immediately, a jolt of pain runs through my right arm and I let out a gasp as I lean back against the bed.

“The key's where it's always been,” Aunt Emily sobs. “I swear, Barbara, I didn't know she could find it! She was just playing with her! They're all just children!”

“You're not safe!” Mum yells, her voice filled with anger and panic. “There's something seriously wrong with you, Em! You're losing control!”

I try again to sit up, but the pain is too strong.

“It's okay,” Dad says suddenly, leaning over me. “Don't try to force yourself up, honey. Just tell me where it hurts.”

“What happened?” I whisper.

He hesitates for a moment, and his eyes seem drawn to a spot on my forehead.

“What happened?” I ask again, trying not to panic. “Tell me!”

“Don't you remember?” he asks cautiously.

“I was...”

Pausing, I think back to the darkness of the mausoleum. I was trapped, I was panicking, and I started throwing myself against the door, trying to force it open. But after that, the next thing I remember is looking up at the trees as I was carried through the forest, and then suddenly I was here in the house.

No, wait.

The hand.

Something touched me.

“We heard you screaming,” Dad explains, wiping the side of my face with a wet cloth, “but it took a few minutes to work out where you were.”

“I was locked in the mausoleum,” I stammer.

He nods. “Well, not
locked
in. The door was just stuck. Do you remember how you got inside in the first place? Did you have a key?”

In the next room, Mum and Aunt Emily are still arguing. Mum's saying some really horrible things to my aunt, and she's swearing and cursing like nothing I've ever heard before. When I grow up, I'm never going to use those types of words. I don't want to sound like Mum sounds right now.

“The door was open,” I whisper. “It was just... It was open when I got there. Someone had opened it already.”

“You didn't take the key?”

I shake my head.

“Okay,” Dad replies, forcing a smile, “I believe you. You shouldn't have gone inside, though. You should have just come and told someone.”

“I know,” I reply, with tears in my eyes, “but I thought I could just take a quick look.” I pause, and then suddenly I remember the sensation of a hand touching my shoulder. “There was someone in there with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean there was someone else,” I continue. “I'm certain of it.”

He sighs. “Becky -”

“I'm not imagining it!” I hiss. “I could hear them, and then I felt them, and then... And then I must have passed out, but I
know
there was someone in there with me!” I feel a shudder pass through my body as I remember the hand touching my shoulder. I just wish I could remember what happened next. “It really touched me, Dad,” I continue, with tears in my eyes. “Please, you have to believe me!”

I wait for him to reply, but he seems very cautious. Almost scared, even.

“Becky,” he says finally, as if it's taken time for him to work out how to answer, “we were all in the house. Your mother and I, your aunt, your brother...”

“Someone was in there with me!” I say firmly, close to tears. “Why won't you listen to me?”

He shakes his head. “There can't have been.”

“There -” Gasping as I feel a ripple of pain in the side of my head, I lean back. “There was!” I gasp. “I swear!”

“If there'd been someone else,” he says after a moment, taking my hand in his as if he thinks that'll somehow make me feel better, “I'd have seen them when I came and got you, wouldn't I? Believe me, Becky, there's simply no way there could have been anyone, so you just need to -”

“But I felt it!” I say firmly.

He shakes his head.

“I'm not some stupid little girl,” I continue, “I'm -”

I let out a sudden gasp of pain as I shift my weight slightly. My right arm feels like there are razor-blades under the skin, and a moment later I feel the same pain again.

“What's wrong with me?” I ask, trying not to panic. “Am I hurt?”

“Only a little bit,” Dad replies, leaning closer and taking a look at my forehead. After a moment, he frowns. “You'll be fine, but I don't like the look of that bump. I think maybe we'll take you to the local hospital after all, just to get you checked over. You can't mess around with a concussion.”

“I'm fine,” I tell him, although I feel another rush of pain when I try to sit up. This time I keep pushing, determined to at least move slightly, but finally I slump back again as tears run down my face. “What's wrong with me?” I stammer. “Why can't I move?”

“You'll be alright,” he replies. “It looks like you just threw yourself against the door a little too hard.”

“Come on,” Mum says suddenly, storming into the room, “we're getting the fuck out of this place. Daniel, you'll have to carry Rebecca to the car if she can't walk under her own steam.”

“We need to take her to hospital,” he tells her.

“Bullshit,” she continues, “she just needs to rest, and she can do that anywhere.”

“I think she has a concussion!” he says firmly, and for a moment he actually seems willing to stand up to her for once. “She's going to get checked out by a doctor! We don't have time to wait for an ambulance, though. We'll have to drive her.”

“Fine,” she mutters, glancing down at me as if she's annoyed that I'm causing problems, “but let's just get moving. I want to get the hell away from Auercliff, and I'll tell you something else. We're never, ever coming back!”

“And then -”

“Just move!” she yells, turning and heading out of the room. “Both of you! Move! I want to get the fuck out of this house before I lose my mind!”

Dad and I sit in silence for a moment, but Mum can still be heard shouting at Aunt Emily in the distance.

“There was someone else in the mausoleum with me,” I whisper finally. “You'll never make me believe there wasn't.”

Dad hesitates, and for a few seconds he seems to be on the verge of telling me I'm right. I swear, from the look in his eyes, I can tell he knows something.

“Come on,” he mutters, getting to his feet, “let's get you out of here.”

***

Twenty minutes later, after Dad has carried me to the car, I sit slumped in the back seat, staring out the window as we pull away along the gravel drive. Aunt Emily is standing on the steps at the front of the house, watching us with tears streaming down her face, and I can't help feeling sorry for her.

No-one should have to live all alone in such a big, gloomy house. And Mum was so mean just now, screaming at her like that.

“The hospital's only about half an hour away,” Dad says, “so just hang on in there, Becky. Okay? Whatever you do, don't fall asleep.”

“Okay,” I whisper, even though I feel nauseous and the pain in my arm is getting worse. I turn and look over at Nathan, and I can immediately see that he seems worried as he meets my gaze. “I'm going to be fine,” I tell him, forcing a smile. “There's nothing wrong with me. Don't look so upset.”

“I'm really sorry,” he replies, with tears in his eyes.

“It's not your fault,” I tell him.

“It is,” he continues, sniffing back more tears. “I dared you to be brave, and now you're having to go to hospital.”

“It's not your...” I try to say again, but my mouth feels funny, and the words come out all slurred. “Are you sure it wasn't you?” I add, focusing on speaking more clearly. “Nathan, are you sure you weren't just playing a prank?”

“It wasn't me,” he replies. “I promise.”

“Don't let her lose consciousness,” Dad says firmly, sounding worried. “If she's got a concussion, the last thing we can do is let her sleep! Whatever you do, Nathan, keep your sister awake!”

“Becky!” Mum shouts, with panic in her voice. “Wake up! Nathan, poke your sister! Kick her in the effing ribs if that's what it takes!”

I feel someone nudging my arm, but all I can think about is how much I want to slip into nothingness, to sleep for a really long time until everything feels better again. I hadn't noticed before, but I've got a headache that's slowly getting worse and worse, and I feel as if the best thing would be to just sleep it off. Everything'll be fine, but first I just have to sleep.

Suddenly I let out a scream as Mum grabs my injured right arm. Jolted awake, I try to push her away, but she's holding me too tight.

“I'm sorry,” she tells me, “but it's the only way to make sure you don't go to sleep. We'll be at the hospital soon, I promise, and then the doctors can look at you! You can thank me later.”

“We should never have come back to Auercliff,” Dad mutters, and I can tell he's speeding up, as if he's panicking about getting me to the hospital in time.

“I didn't realize Emily was so crazy!” Mum hisses, still holding my arm tight. “Don't worry, though. That was the last time. Fuck Emily and fuck Auercliff, and fuck...” She pauses. “Fuck that whole place, and everyone in it.”

“Let go!” I shout, trying to pull free as the pain gets worse and worse. “You're hurting me!”

“It's for your own good!” she replies.

Screaming and crying, still trying to get out of her grip, I twist around on the seat. I see Nathan's horrified face for a moment, and then I look out the car's back window and see Auercliff in the distance, getting further and further away.

“Rebecca!” Mum shouts, as I close my eyes again. “For God's sake, you can't fall asleep! Rebecca!”

I can feel her trying to keep me awake, but still I drift deeper and deeper into darkness. All I can think about is the hand on my shoulder in the mausoleum. I don't care what anyone says. I wasn't alone in there. And as I start falling asleep more, my thoughts drift back to the darkness, and to the sensation of the hand on my shoulder, and to...

Someone giggled.

“I'll come back,” I whisper, keeping my eyes shut even though I can feel Mum and Nathan trying to wake me. “I'll come back to Auercliff one day and find out who was in there with me.”