The Waiting: A Supernatural Thriller (21 page)

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Evan said, rubbing his forehead.

“Has any of this tale made sense, Mr. Tormer?”

“Please call me Evan
—and no, it hasn’t.” He looked at her. “But I believe you.”

“I appreciate the sentiment
, but I can’t say I’m glad you came calling today. I prefer to forget the things I’ve told you, and you would think I’d be able to at my age, but I don’t—I can’t.” Cecil stared hard into his eyes. “That abomination in your basement isn’t natural, Mr. Tormer. It is a man-made cancer that poisons everything it touches. My father was the first to enter that room, the first to see, only moments after, what happened there. I was seven when he died of some strange disease the doctors had no name for. He simply withered away, a black ichor spreading beneath his skin until he looked burned from within. I can still hear the agony in his voice as he died, intertwined with my mother’s cries.”

Cecil’s eyes jittered slightly
, and Evan wondered, not for the first time, if he’d made a mistake coming here. The woman before him, so stolid moments before, now looked unhinged.

“She went insane after my father passed,
slowly, one day at a time. I cared for her, and she told me these things before she lost her mind completely.” Cecil’s jaw stiffened, the muscles bulging beneath her thin skin. “And do you know what? She still painted every day, but the only thing that ever graced her canvas after my father died was that fucking
clock
!”

Evan stood and bumped the glass table with his knee, spilling his half-
empty cup of coffee. On the transparent table the liquid looked like blood, running in lines toward Cecil, who vibrated with a manic energy in her chair, watching him with blazing eyes.

“Destroy it, Mr. Tormer
. Break it, burn it, do whatever you must before it takes everything from you like it did to me!”

Evan opened his mouth
, but the only thing that came out was a small moan, barely audible even to his own ears. Then he turned and walked for the door; he had to get out of the house. His nerves were wound into a bundled heap of utter panic that urged him to run. He glanced over his shoulder, sure he would see Cecil following close behind him, her knurled hands raised like claws overhead. But the kitchen and archway were empty.

The cool air
was a blessed welcome against his skin, and he slammed the door shut behind him and finally gave in to the pleadings to run. He jogged to his car, and after climbing inside, took deep, cleansing breaths and waited for the boiling anxiety to abate. After a minute it did, but when he reached to start the van, he noticed his hands still trembled.

An electronic chirp issued from the backseat
, causing his slowing heart to stutter again. Evan twisted, fumbling for the computer case and dragging it onto his thighs. When he opened the laptop, the strong Wi-Fi signal in the upper right-hand corner caught his attention. He glanced at the house again, then lowered his eyes to the email that had caused the signal of new messages. The first email was from Jason. Evan clicked on it, the mere sight of his friend’s address a comfort.

Ev, I spoke to Justin about the article. He said that’s not something he’s looking for right now
, but he’d be happy to hear any other ideas you have. Sorry, man. Hope you and Shaun are well. Call me soon. – Jason

He
reread the words several times and his shoulders slumped. A different idea? After everything that he’d learned?

But what have you learned?

The voice sounded snide and superior.

You found the ravings of an obviously insane man and brought up some of the town’s oldest, dirtiest laundry. Sordid affairs and possibly murder, but to what end? You’re going to solve a mystery that’s over ninety years old?
Oh, wait, I see, there’s something else you’re digging for. That little idea that came into your mind the moment you read the article about the hit-and-run, and now the old bat in the house said the words that have been percolating in that fucked-up brain of yours out loud. You think it’s possible? You really think it is? Then if you do, you’re more disturbed than ever.

“Shut up,” Evan growled, gritting his teeth.

His phone chimed from the center console. He jerked in his seat as if it were a biting snake. A slightly familiar cell-phone number graced the display.

“Hello?”
he answered.

A short puff of breath came from the other end
, and then silence.

A cold dump of adrenaline entered his system, flooding his veins with a cocktail of weakness and dread.

“Becky?”

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh.”

Becky’s voice came out less than a whisper, like dead leaves sliding on concrete. The sound rolled a wave of goose bumps across his skin.

The call ended, leaving him with dead air in his ear.

Frantically he punched the number into the phone and waited. It went straight to voice mail.

“Shit!”

He dialed Becky’s number again while slamming the van into drive. As he rounded the turn and headed down the driveway in a flurry of dust, he threw a look at the house, barely noticing the curtains beside the front door shift back into place.

16

Evan held the pontoon’s throttle wide open.

The steely water reflecting the sky rose in short waves that th
e craft burst through and surged over. The wind, mostly calm before, now pushed and tugged at his shirt, causing him to shiver with each gust. He hadn’t been able to reach Becky again on the hurried ride back to town, and he’d lost track of how many times he’d hit the redial button.

The Fin
grew and grew on the lake’s choppy surface, and Evan strained his eyes, squinting against the wind to see the house through the trees.

No fire. That was good. Becky’s boat was still tied to the dock. That was good too
—she hadn’t run off and left for some strange reason, and she hadn’t taken Shaun anywhere.

Please, please, please let him be okay.

As the details of the island became clearer, he saw that two figures waited on the beach, one seated and the other standing a short distance away.

“Thank God,” Evan said, relief washing over him in a warm wave.

He saw Shaun’s small form nestled in his chair. The boy was moving, but something was wrong. Shaun wasn’t wearing a coat, or even a sweatshirt, and his feet dangled down low enough that the washing waves rushed up and covered them. Becky stood a few steps away, staring at Evan as he approached.

“What the fuck?” Evan said, cutting the motor down to guide his way to the dock.

He drifted the last few yards and let the front end of the craft bump into the planking. In two strides he stood on the dock, and looped a rope around the pontoon’s railing. Then he was moving again, anger filling the void left by panic.

“What the hell’s going on here?” he asked, hurrying past Becky to where Shaun sat.

His anger flared brighter when he saw the blue tinge to his son’s lips and they way he shook from the cold.

“Fucking shit,” Evan said, peeling off his long-sleeved shirt
before unstrapping Shaun from his chair. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He
tugged his shirt over Shaun’s head and picked him up. Shaun shivered and pressed his face into Evan’s neck. When he turned back toward the water Becky still hadn’t moved.

“Hey, I’m talking to you,”
he said, as he stepped before her.

Becky’s half-lidded eyes stared across the
lake, toward town. Her lips hung apart, revealing her teeth clenched together, her jaw muscles contracting over and over.

“Becky, are you okay? Are you hurt?”
he said, moving closer. “Why did you come down here?”

Shaun shivered against him
, and Evan hugged him tighter. With a shaking hand, he reached out and touched the woman’s shoulder.

“Becky, come back to the house
—”

Her head snapped around so fast Evan expected to hear her spine break. Her eyes were wide, unseeing, looking through him, and her lips
peeled back from her teeth even further, in a rictus. Evan yanked his hand back as though touching a hot burner.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh.”

The sound came from behind Becky’s teeth, and her tongue darting wildly between the gaps in them. With slow movements, he retreated up the hill, clutching Shaun.

“Da,” Shaun said
, into Evan’s neck.

“It’s okay, buddy, it’s okay.”

He kept walking backward, his eyes locked on Becky, who continued to stare at the spot where they’d been. “I’ll be right back,” Evan called down to her, and jogged to the house. Once inside he set Shaun on the couch and began to pile blankets on him.

“What happened, honey? Did she hurt you?”

Shaun gazed at him, his teeth chattering while another shiver coursed through his small body. Evan dug into his pocket for his phone, wondering who he should call. Becky’s employer at the hospital? The police? An ambulance?

The sound of a boat engine starting made him look u
p from his phone.

“No way,” he
said, walking to the front door.

Becky wasn’t standing in her spot near the lake anymore. She was in her father’s boat
, and as he watched, she cut a short swath and turned the craft toward the opposite side of the lake, accelerating more and more.

Evan stepped out of the house. “Hey! Becky! Becky!”

His yells did nothing to slow her. She piloted the boat away, a V of water gliding in the wake, her back turned toward him. Soon the craft was only a speck dotting the gray waves.

Evan
shut the door and walked to the couch, his eyes unfocused. “Let’s get you in the tub, buddy.”

After checking Shaun’s body for marks
and welts of any kind and finding nothing, Evan gave him a bath, warming him up. As Shaun splashed and played in the soapy water, he kept replaying Becky’s behavior in his mind. What the hell had happened? When he’d left that afternoon, she’d been a normal young woman, capable and trustworthy. What could possibly alter someone so much in a matter of hours?

“Ow
?”

Evan came back to himself and realized that the water in Shaun’s ba
th had begun to cool. “Sorry, honey. Let’s get you out of there.”

After drying
him off, Evan set him on the couch, rewrapping him in the blankets again. He sat and stared at his son for a long time, taking in his features. Shaun looked back, grinning from time to time. It was like seeing glimpses of Elle behind a fluttering curtain when he smiled, her lasting gift to him.

“You got your mom’s smile, you know that, buddy? I’m so glad I still get to see it.”
Tears filled his eyes. “I’m sorry I left you.” His voice became hoarse, the horrible ideas of what could’ve been flowing through his mind. “I didn’t think anything would happen. I’m sorry you got cold, I’m so sorry you got cold.”

“Ky?” Shaun said, his brow furrowing.

“I won’t cry,” Evan said, wiping at his eyes before leaning forward to kiss him on the brow. As he sat back, he glanced over the back of the sofa.

The basement door
was open a few inches.

Evan stood
and took a step toward it, waiting for it to fly open all the way, pushed from something behind it. But it stayed motionless. Had it been closed when he left? Yes, he was almost sure.

“I’ll be right back, honey,”
he said over his shoulder.

After grabbing
the flashlight from the kitchen, Evan went to the basement door and opened it fully. He flicked the flashlight on, then went down the stairs, playing the light off the treads and walls. Reaching the bottom, he flipped the light switch on, but nothing happened. He tried a few more times, toggling the switch up and down, as fear rose in his guts. Evan illuminated the doll, still facedown where he’d left it, and swept the beam around the space. Nothing looked out of place. He pointed the flashlight at the ceiling, panning it across each of the dark light bulbs. It looked like they’d all blown.

He moved down the last
few steps and stopped, turning in a circle. Slowly he swung the beam toward the clock, its darker shade already drawing his attention. It was as he’d left it. Knowing more of its history didn’t make him any more comfortable in its presence. Someone once said fear was the result of not understanding something. Standing in the cloying darkness with the clock only feet away, Evan didn’t agree.

“Hello?”

The sound of his voice startled him. He hadn’t meant to speak. Now he waited, stomach churning, dreading a response.

Silence.

“Da?” Shaun called from the living room.

“Be right
there, buddy,” he yelled, then turned and headed back up the stairs.

~