The Haunting of Autumn Lake (24 page)

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Authors: Marcia Lynn McClure

BOOK: The Haunting of Autumn Lake
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However, somewhere along the way, the three girls had gotten separated, and now Autumn was roaming through the makeshift lean-tos and other props that composed the spook hollow.

She screamed as someone dressed as a bloodied phantom leapt out from behind a tree, moaning at the top of his lungs and trying to grab her. Her heart was pounding like a train rumbling on a track, and she quickly avoided being captured by the would-be phantom and hurried on.

Autumn thought that surely she must be over halfway through the black maze of phantoms, torture scenes, and monsters. But she still couldn’t see the familiar flicker of the tiny fire that marked the end of the spook hollow. Therefore, she knew had farther to venture than she cared to. She wished Gentry weren’t having to drive the hay wagon to carry visitors back and forth from the fair to the hollow. She thought how entirely romantic it would’ve been—wandering through the hollow as he held her hand in a firm, capable grip. With Gentry near, she doubted the white phantoms floating here and there through the darkness would hardly give her pause. Yet now, each time she saw something dart from behind one tree to hide behind another, she gasped and her trembling worsened.

“I’m gonna wring Tawny Johnson’s neck when I get outta here,” Autumn grumbled to herself. “It’s so like her…to beg me to come with her…and then disappear to leave me all alone.” Autumn continued to silently scold herself for falling victim to Tawny’s pitiful begging.
Oh, please come with us, Autumn. It’s so much more fun when you’re with other folks.

Autumn rolled her eyes, gasped, and jumped at being startled as another phantom reached out for her from behind a tree. This phantom, however, was a bit more aggressive than the other had been and actually took hold of her arm in a firm grip.

“Let me go, whoever you are!’ she demanded. “I’m tired of this spooky ol’ hollow.”

But the gray-and-white garbed phantom did not release her. In fact, before she’d quite known what had happened, she found that the phantom had lifted her off her feet, threw her over one shoulder, and was heading off into the woods.

“You put me down! You’re takin’ this too far!” she cried. And then she realized what had happened—and who had taken her.

“Riley?” she breathed as a different sort of terror filled her soul. “You put me down, Riley Wimber! You put me down! Help me! Help!” she screamed. But she already knew there would come no help. Cries of help were a very part of what made the spook hollow so terrifying! Along with phantoms and other ghastly creatures, there were townsfolk hidden in the forest screaming for help, or simply screaming, just to add to the feeling of fear in the hollow.

“Riley! Leave me alone! I hate you!’ Autumn cried, beating on his back. She was silenced, however—for the breath was knocked from her body as Riley threw her to the ground. She’d landed on her back and lay gasping for air. She began to panic—for not only could she not draw a breath, but Riley was standing over her, stripping off the sheets and other fabrics that had composed his phantom costume.

“No one’s gonna help you this time, Autumn Lake,” Riley growled. “Not your arrogant daddy and not your purty cowboy neither. No one’s gonna listen to what a girl is screamin’ in the spook hollow.”

Autumn managed to gasp a breath then, and though her back and lungs hurt from having been breathless so long, she tried to roll over onto her stomach in order to get to her feet.

But Riley pounced on her like a rabid dog, pinning her wrists at the sides of her head and straddling her body. “What did I tell you, Autumn?” he growled. “Didn’t I tell you to keep your purty mouth shut? But you didn’t, did you? Nope. You told your daddy, and he came over…and do you know what he did?”

“H-he beat the bones out of
your
daddy,” Autumn panted. “And it was a long time comin’.”

She cried out as the back of Riley’s hand met with her cheek as he slapped her. She saw the opportunity and reached out with her now free hand, trying to claw at his face. But Riley was a big man—strong too—and Autumn was soon trapped once more.

“He’s sendin’ me away now,” Riley told her. “All because of you. My daddy’s sending me off to some hellhole in Tennessee…all because you don’t know what you want from a man.” He leaned toward her, grinning with malicious desire. “What you want is me, Autumn Lake. And you know it. You just won’t let yourself admit it.”

Riley stretched her hands above her head, pinning her wrists together on the ground and holding them there with one hand. “Yeah…I’m the man you want,” he chuckled as his free hand traveled over her shoulder, pausing at her bosom before finally resting on her stomach. “And tonight I’m gonna prove that to you, girl.”

“Stop it!” Autumn growled as she attempted to kick—to lift her body up even as he sat on her. She squirmed and fought as much as she could in her restrained condition.

But Riley only laughed. “That’s right, darlin’! That’s right. Get the fight out of ya now so we can settle down to havin’ some fun.”

He moved to kiss her, but she spit in his face. The rebellion provoked another slap—this time a harder one that sent her senses reeling for a moment.

“I hate you,” she breathed. “Don’t you know how much I hate you? How could you want me when you know that the mere sight of you makes me want to vomit?”

“Oh, that’s just the prim little girl your mama told you to be talkin’, girl,” he chuckled. “But I know there’s fire in you, Autumn Lake…fire and passion…and I mean to partake of it!”

Once more he leaned toward her to kiss her, and once more she spat at him. Again he slapped her, threatening to slap her unconscious if she didn’t quit spitting.

But Autumn would never quit spitting—never quit fighting. Even as Riley began to unbutton the buttons on the front of the lovely orange dress her mother had made for her birthday—even as his descriptions of what he planned to do to her grew more vulgar and threatening—Autumn never quit struggling. But she was growing tired, and she knew she could not fight such a powerful enemy forever.


“Where’s Autumn?” Gentry asked as the two Johnson girls scrambled into the hay wagon, giggling and chirping about their frightening experience in the spook hollow.

“What do you mean, Gentry James?” Candy Johnson asked. “I thought she’d more than likely beat us back to the wagon.”

“I’ll ride up there on the seat with you if you need some company, Gentry,” Tawny offered. Gentry frowned—for a dark, deep, powerful sense of foreboding was fast overtaking him.

“You didn’t come out with her?” he growled at Tawny as he put the wagon brake on.

Tawny shrugged. “We got separated. There’s all kinds of phantoms pullin’ you every which way in there, Gentry. And besides, she’s a big girl. Autumn can take care of herself…and she never gets scared.”

Gentry growled as he hit the ground running for the spook hollow. Ransom had told him he’d seen Riley Wimber at the fair that day—and now Autumn wasn’t where she should be.

“Autumn!” he hollered as he entered the hollow. Some idiot dressed like a ghoul tried to stop him to collect a penny for the price of a ticket, but Gentry simply shoved the man aside and kept running. “Autumn! Autumn!” he hollered as a terror he’d never known began to grip him.

A feeling near to panic began to rise in his chest, but he knew there was no time for weakness. He had to find Autumn before Riley Wimber did—if it weren’t already too late.

“Please, God…don’t let it be too late,” he mumbled as he took hold of the arm of a man dressed like a black-hooded executioner. “Did you see Autumn Lake come through here?”

The man nodded, stripping off his hood to reveal Jasper Wyatt. “She run through not ten minutes ago. Why?”

“She’s in trouble,” Gentry growled. “Everybody needs to start lookin’ for her before…before…before Riley Wimber gets what he wants from her.”

Jasper frowned, nodded, and shouted, “Earl! Get some men together right way…and don’t let nobody else in for a while.”

Gentry was already off and running again, calling her name—praying that he hadn’t already let her down. Oh, why had he waited to propose to her? Why hadn’t he just asked her to marry him there under the big old maple that morning? If he’d asked her then, chances are she’d never have left his side that day—not for a moment.

“Autumn!” he hollered. And then he thought he heard a woman scream for help. More than that, he thought he heard someone calling his name.

With the fury of a madman in him, Gentry James stormed toward the voice calling out to him for help—Autumn’s voice.

 

Ransom dropped the pumpkin as the vision began to overtake him. He didn’t hear it fall, however—didn’t know it had hit a rock near his foot and split open to spill seeds and stringy innards all over his boots.

“Autumn!” he breathed as he somehow knew his daughter was in the hands of a monster at the spook hollow—not someone only dressed as a monster but a real monster. And the sense was all too familiar, for Ransom Lake had seen a similar vision before—over twenty-five years before.

As anger and fear for his daughter’s safety possessed him, he shouted, “Vaden! It’s Autumn! In the spook hollow!”

Vaden gasped, dropping the pumpkin she’d been holding as well. “Go, Ransom!” she cried.

“Give me your horse, mister,” Ransom growled, taking the reins of a mare from the hand of a man who’d only been meaning to buy a pumpkin. “Thank you kindly, and my wife will explain,” he said. “Ya!” he shouted as he slapped the haunches of the horse with the reins, riding off into the night at a mad gallop.

 

He’d found her. Gentry had found her! There, lying on the ground with Riley Wimber straddling her, was Autumn.

“You get off her, you son of a—” he began as rage coursed through his body.

 

“Gentry!” Autumn cried. “Gentry!”

She was saved! Autumn began to sob, knowing that Gentry had saved her—saved her mind, her body, her virtue—her very soul!

All at once, Riley was no longer sitting on her—no longer holding her hands. The weight of his body was gone, and she was free—she could breathe.

Somewhat dazed, Autumn continued to sob as she rolled to her side. But then she heard it—the sound of fists hitting flesh, of bones breaking.

Turning quickly, she cried out as she saw that Gentry and Riley were engaged in a brutal fight. She understood now that Gentry had pulled Riley off her.

“I shoulda killed you when I had a chance the first time,” Riley roared.

“I shoulda killed you when I had it,” Gentry shouted.

Gentry swung, his powerful fist meeting with Riley’s jaw. Riley reeled, but Gentry gave no respite. Taking hold of Riley’s shoulder, Gentry drove his fist into Riley’s ribcage over and over and over, and Autumn covered her ears to keep out the sound of the breaking bones.

But somehow, Riley managed to get his hands up and around Gentry’s neck. He brought Gentry’s face down to meet hard with his knee and then pushed him backward.

“Gentry! Stop!” Autumn screamed. It was true that she loathed Riley Wimber—that part of her wanted to see him dead in that moment and never able to threaten her again—but not at the cost of Gentry’s safety and health. “Stop, Gentry!”

But Gentry wouldn’t stop. Reeling for only a moment, he attacked Riley again, beating him about the face with his fists until Riley’s knees buckled and he lay stretched out on the ground.

“Come on, you son of a—” Gentry’s fist meeting with Riley’s face drowned out what he’d growled. “Get up! Finish this, boy!”

“Gentry!” Autumn screamed.

 

But Gentry wouldn’t rest until he was sure Autumn would never have to look at a living Riley Wimber again. He knew what Riley had meant to do to the woman he loved—to the woman he was determined to marry. He knew what Riley would continue to try to do. He’d seen men like Riley Wimber before—men who used and abused women. They never stopped—never.

And so Gentry continued to beat the villain in Autumn’s life—to beat him even though Riley himself was sobbing and begging for mercy.

It wasn’t until he felt strong arms around his chest—felt himself being lifted off the limp body of Riley Wimber—that he paused a moment in his attack.

“That’s enough, son!” Ransom barked. “That’s enough! You don’t need to kill him.”
Gentry pushed Ransom’s arms away and turned to face his friend. “Are you sure?” he asked—and he was serious.
“I’m sure,” Ransom answered. “And know this…I’d let you kill him if I thought you really needed to, Gentry.”
Gentry nodded, for he trusted Ransom’s judgment.
Instantly then, he turned to search for Autumn—found her standing just a ways off, sobbing.

 

“I should’ve asked you this mornin’,” Gentry said as he enveloped Autumn in the powerful safety of his arms.

Autumn clung to him—inhaled the scent of him—sobbed against his shoulder. “He meant to…he meant to…to have me,” she cried.

“I know, darlin’,” Gentry soothed her, though his breathing was still labored from the exertion of the fight. “But he won’t. He won’t. And I should’ve asked you this mornin’. If I had, you wouldn’t have even come to the spook hollow. You woulda been out somewhere sparkin’ with me when these girls came lookin’ for you.”

“Don’t let me go, Gentry,” Autumn breathed, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Please don’t ever let me go again.”
“I won’t, baby,” Gentry breathed into her hair. “I won’t.”
“What have you done to my boy?”

Autumn gasped and began to cry again as she and Gentry turned to see Nate Wimber leaning over Riley. A crowd had gathered—most of whom were dressed as characters for the spook hollow—and even in the dire circumstances at hand, Autumn Lake managed to notice the strange, yet rather intriguing, look of it.

“Your boy just tried to defile my daughter, Nate Wimber,” Ransom Lake growled, taking a step toward Nate.
“Let go of me, old man,” Riley bellowed as he sat up of his own strength. “And you ain’t my father.”

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