The Haunting at Grays Harbor (The River Book 8) (9 page)

“Hi, I’m Maynard Stout,” he said without a smile.

Steven shook his hand. “I’m Steven, and this is my father,
Roy.”

“Nice to meet you,” Roy said, sticking out his hand.

Maynard shook it. “Likewise.”

“Thanks for coming all the way up here,” Steven said. “We
brought you some coffee from a shop down the road.”

Roy held out the cup to Maynard. “The stuff they have here at
the motel is pretty bad,” Roy said.

Maynard looked at the cup but didn’t take it. “Don’t drink
coffee, but thanks.”

Roy retracted the cup.

“Let’s go out to my truck, so we can talk,” Maynard said,
glancing over at the front desk clerk. He turned and left the lobby, Steven and
Roy following.

Maynard walked them to his old, white Chevy truck that was
badly in need of a paint job. Steven guessed it was a 1970s model. Behind the
truck, in tow, was a small storage trailer, also in need of a paint job. It
looked as though it had been patched a few times. There was a thick chain
wrapped through the handles of the doors on the back, and Steven saw three
large padlocks at different places on the door.

“Hope your drive up was OK,” Steven said.

“Now that they let you go 80 through Idaho, it’s not too
bad,” Maynard said. “It’s much worse if you have to go slow through Idaho. I
was thinking about what you told me, as I was driving up. Dang, that coffee
smells good.”

Roy extended the cup once again.

“Nah, thanks anyway,” Maynard said. “What worries me is why
the vorghost would let it become so unstable without fixing it. We’re going to
have to figure that out.”

“Can you back up just a second?” Steven asked. “I’ve never
heard of a vorghost before, and neither has my father. Can you start from the
ground floor? Educate us?”

“A vorghost is basically a ghost of a person who was gifted
before they died, like you or me,” Maynard said. “They prepared to become one
while they’re alive, getting things in place to create a vortex once they
passed on. The vortex is like their home. It’s where they live, and it shelters
them – protects them. They put a lot of time and energy into maintaining it,
which is why I’m concerned about what you described. Can we go see it?”

“The rod? In the attic?” Steven said.

“Yes, the one you said had a broken coil?”

“Sure,” Steven said, checking his pocket to see if he still
had Barbara’s keys on him. “I’ve got the keys to her house.”

“Hop in my truck and we’ll go,” Maynard said. “How far is
it?”

“About twenty minutes,” Roy said.

“I’m not a coffee drinker, but maybe I’ll take that off your
hands,” Maynard said to Roy, nodding at the second cup Roy was still holding.
“Not fair to make you hold it all the way out there.”

Roy extended his arm once again, and this time Maynard took
the cup. He held it up under his nose.

“Oh what the heck, I’m not in Utah,” he said, and sipped from
the cup. “I trust you fellas won’t tell my Bishop.”

“That’d be against my religion,” Roy said, grinning. Steven noticed
that Maynard didn’t smile back.

So
he’s not much of a smiler,
Steven thought as he climbed into the truck.

“What’s in the trailer?” Steven asked as they bounced on the
road out to Barbara’s house. The shocks on Maynard’s truck seemed nonexistent,
and every little bump in the road resulted in a jostling.

“My supplies,” Maynard answered. “I’ve collected stuff over
the years, and since every vorghost is a little different, I never know what I
might need. So I cart it all. That way I’ll be sure to have it.”

“How long have you been exterminating vorghosts?” Steven
asked.

“Oh, I don’t exterminate them,” Maynard replied. “They’re
entitled to their existence. These things used to be gifteds, like you or me.
It’s none of my business if they want to set up shop like this in the
afterlife. Might just be the next step in our evolution, who knows. When my
father died, back in 1961, he became one. I found that interesting, so I took
up studying them. Kept it up, and it’s been fifty years now. I’ve developed a
few techniques for dealing with them.”

“Do you know why?” Steven asked. “Why your father became
one?”

“I think he’d had a life-long fascination with them, just
like I have. And I think there’s an element of control, of wanting to have some
say over what’s going to happen when you die. For most people, they don’t have
a clue what’s going to happen. They cross their fingers and hope they make it
to the celestial kingdom. For a gifted who’s planning on becoming a vorghost,
it’s all laid out. No heaven – just a nice little vortex they can call home.”

“What’s happening out at this house is anything but nice,”
Roy said. “They’re terrified.” As Roy said this, Steven thought of being in
Eximere, seeing Anita in the yard. The horror he felt when seeing her dark
shape sent a chill down his spine, even as his spine was bouncing up and down
on the road.

“It’s part of the defense mechanism,” Maynard said. He took
another sip of the coffee; Steven marveled at how he could position it at his
lips and drink through the lid as the cab jolted up and down, but Maynard
seemed to have some kind of simpatico with his vehicle, and he downed a gulp
without spilling. “Oh my gosh, that is good, and I am sorry dear Heavenly
Father, I repent!”

“Are you Mormon?” Roy blurted out.

“Sixth generation,” Maynard replied. “My ancestors crossed
the plains in a handcart in 1847 with Brigham Young.”

“That explains it,” Roy grumbled.

“The vortex that a vorghost sets up normally has some built-in
defenses,” Maynard continued. “Using your fears against you is one of the most
common ones.”

Steven thought about this.
That might explain why my dad
never saw Anita,
he thought.
It was my fear, not his.

“Barbara was always seeing spiders,” Roy said. “I’ll bet
she’s afraid of them.”

“And May, their daughter, was chased by the needle man,”
Steven said.

“Little kids hate the doctor,” Roy said. “Nothing scares them
more than the idea of getting a shot.”

“Their father, seeing someone in his daughter’s room,” Steven
said. “The fear that his child might be kidnapped. The guy works around
convicted felons all day. Not much of a leap that he’d see someone invading his
home.”

“And the priest,” Roy said. “Fear of sacrilege.”

“Very common,” Maynard said. “I had a fear of the dark. Not a
dark room, mind you, but total darkness. A blackout. That’s what it used to do
to me. Made it gosh darn hard to move around. Used to scare the piss out of me.”

“So what is this rod, exactly?” Roy asked as they pulled up
to the house.

Maynard got out of the truck and looked at the structure.
“It’s one of several anchor points, used to define the physical location of the
vortex,” he said as he walked toward the front door. Steven used the keys to
open it and they stepped inside.

“Rods are very rare and expensive,” Maynard continued as they
walked into the ground floor hallway. “It’s one of the most prized possessions
of a vorghost, because without it, their vortex can’t exist. They’re very
protective of it, because they know it’s one of their biggest vulnerabilities –
something physical that can be fiddled with by humans who don’t know what
they’re doing. That’s why all the defense mechanisms – to keep people away from
them.”

“Did we mention that the little girl touched it?” Roy said.
“Yesterday, before we talked to you. It’s what drove them out of the house.”

Maynard paused, listening. He looked down the hallway and
back up it. Then he looked at the ceiling. He motioned for Steven and Roy to
wait, while he walked further down the hall and into the kitchen. After a few
minutes he came back.

“You know that she touched it?” Maynard asked. “For sure?”

“She said she did,” Steven replied. “And Barbara said things
got worse.”

“If things were worse, we’d be seeing things right now,”
Maynard said. “You two see anything unusual?”

“No,” Steven said, “I don’t. But the rod is upstairs, in the
attic.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Maynard replied. “If she touched it, it
would have set off an alarm, and the vorghost would be defending it by
amplifying the fear. I’m not sensing anything. Doesn’t make sense. Lead the way
to the rod, please. If its defenses are down, let’s take advantage of that.”

Steven led the others to the third floor, and used the hook
to pull down the ladder to the attic. They all ascended, and once inside,
Steven led Maynard to the knee wall where the sliding panel was still
retracted. Maynard approached the small space and looked at the rod, examining
it closely.

“Surprised it’s working at all,” Maynard said. “Must have a
strong power source.”

“Can you shut it down?” Steven asked.

“Let’s back up a minute,” Maynard said. “This rod is part of
the construction of the vortex. There are at least two more, somewhere. They
define the vortex, and are part of the structure that maintains it. You can’t
just shut down one of these things. You have to shut them all down at once, if
that’s even the right thing to do. I don’t know yet.”

“If this rod defines the physical location of the vortex,”
Roy said, “then what is it doing here? In Barbara’s attic?”

“That’s a good point,” Maynard said. “It certainly doesn’t
belong here. My guess is it got damaged somehow, and it moved. These rods can
go through anything. Has it moved while you’ve been working on this?”

“Yes, it used to be over there,” Steven said pointing. “It
shifted when a ghostbuster outfit sent some kind of electrical pulse through
the house a couple of days ago.”

“That wouldn’t affect a normal rod,” Maynard said. “But a
damaged rod like this, I can see it pushing it around a bit.”

“Let me see if I have this straight,” Roy said. “This rod
belonged with a group of others, presumably somewhere nearby. It became
damaged, and the damage caused it to move. It wound up here in Barbara’s attic,
further pushed along when the ghostbusters used their equipment. Do I have this
right?”

“It’s a good working theory,” Maynard said. “I like it.”

“If this is a prized possession of a vorghost,” Steven said,
“why hasn’t it come and taken it back?”

“That’s what I don’t know,” Maynard said. “We’ll have to
figure that out. Every vortex I’ve ever seen has a powerful vorghost behind it,
inside it, running it. They build it, then they maintain it. It’s what keeps
them alive. When something goes wrong, they fix it, or they get people to fix
it for them. If someone touches one of their rods, they defend it. This one
here seems completely abandoned. If that little girl touched it yesterday, we
should all be swimming in hallucinations right now. We’ll need to find the
vorghost behind this rod, and see why it isn’t on the job.”

“How will we do that?” Roy asked. “Search nearby?”

“Yup,” Maynard said, heading for the ladder. “Come on, let’s
do some scouting around.”

They followed Maynard down the ladder and back through the
house, loading back into his truck. He started it up.

“We want to look for a house that’s abandoned,” Maynard said
as they drove to a road deeper in the housing area. “It’ll look boarded up. I
expect it won’t be too far from the rod, but who knows. Maybe behind their house.
Somewhere close.”

“The houses here are a good ways apart,” Steven commented.
“Not stacked on top of each other.”

“A vorghost would like this type of setup,” Maynard said.
“Plenty of space, no close neighbors.”

Maynard traveled the long block and turned down the next road
that ran parallel to the street Barbara’s house was on. He slowed as they
approached the first house, which looked occupied – cars out front, an RV
parked by the side of the house.

“Not that one,” Roy said. Maynard accelerated a little until
they came to a house further down the road, on the other side of the street.

“Now, look at that!” Steven said as they approached it. The
windows were all covered with old plywood that had turned dark grey.

“Bingo,” Maynard said, pulling his truck and trailer right
into the house’s driveway, which was covered in weeds. He turned off his truck
and jumped out, walking up to the front porch of the house.

“You think this is it?” Steven asked.

“It’s in there,” Maynard said. “We’re inside the vortex right
now. Can’t you feel it?”

Steven looked up at the house. It loomed over him, silent and
ominous. Even though it was a bright, crisp morning, things seemed shadowy and
concealed, as though the house was hiding something.

“I feel nervous,” Steven said. “Like something bad will
happen if we go in.”

“That’s the vortex,” Maynard said. “That’s what it does when
it’s working right. I would expect it to feel stronger, but the weakness is
probably due to the errant rod.” Maynard walked off the front porch and around
to the side of the house. “Come on, we’re going in.”

Steven and Roy followed Maynard as he circled the house,
looking for a way inside. He tugged at the plywood on several of the windows, but
they held firm. Several large pieces had been secured over a back door,
attached with dozens of large wood screws. Someone had scratched the words
“Murder Marie” into the plywood with something sharp.

“Wonder what that means,” Steven said.

“No way we’re getting through that,” Maynard said. He
finished circling the house, back at the front porch. “I don’t get it,” he
said. “Usually there’s a way in through the back. Something hidden. I can’t see
any way in, unless it’s through one of those upper windows, in which case we’d
need a ladder.”

Roy walked to the front door and tried the handle. It turned,
and the door swung in.

“Didn’t think of that!” Maynard said, running up onto the
porch. “Good thinking!”

“I’m guessing the front door to a house haunted by a vorghost
isn’t usually left open like this?” Roy asked.

“Highly unusual,” Maynard said, peeking inside. “We’re not
dealing with a normal vorghost. Come on, let’s get some flashlights.”

Maynard led them back to his storage trailer. He retrieved a
set of keys from his pocket, and began the process of removing the several
locks on the back of it, carefully unwinding the large chain.

When the doors finally opened, Steven saw a wooden workbench
at the back and rows of metal cabinets lining the sides, secured to the
trailer’s walls so they wouldn’t tip over as it traveled. Maynard stepped up
into the trailer and opened one of the cabinets. He pulled out two old metal
flashlights that looked as if they were made in the ’60s. He turned each of
them on, checking that they worked, and handed one to Roy. Then he grabbed a couple
of items from another drawer and stuffed them into his pockets. Steven couldn’t
make out what the objects were, but he wasn’t as concerned about the objects as
he was about not having his own flashlight. Maynard closed up the trailer
doors, and reattached one of the locks.

“Normally, the vorghost will be at the highest point of the
house,” Maynard said as they walked back to the house. “Top floor, or the
attic, if there’s an attic. Since vorghosts used to be gifteds, they’re
generally open to talking with us. Regular people they just scare away – or,
rather, the vortex scares away. We know not to be scared, however.”

Steven glanced at Roy. Roy had a wide smile on his face, as
though he was looking forward to what they were about to do. Steven didn’t share
his enthusiasm.

They walked to the house and through the front door, Maynard
first, then Steven. Roy pulled the door closed behind them.

The ground floor was dark. Little light made its way through
the boarded up windows. Steven’s eyes began to adjust, and Roy and Maynard used
their flashlights, shining them around the large living room that was
completely empty of furniture. Wallpaper was peeling from the walls.

Steven glanced down a hallway and tried to see into
neighboring rooms, but since he didn’t have a flashlight, he was only able to
catch a glimpse of things when light from the other two made it his way.
Seems
normal
, he thought.
Nothing strange. Just an abandoned house.