The Horror of Briarwych Church Page 11
“London's not that bad,” I tell her.
“Go to your room. And don't answer back.”
Sighing, I turn and head out into the hallway, and then I make my way up the stairs. I want to punch something, but somehow I manage to hold my temper. By the time I get up onto the landing, however, I already know exactly where I'll be at 8am tomorrow morning.
Chapter Seventeen
Mark
“I wasn't sure that you'd come,” Liam says, his breath visible in the air as he leads me over to his car in the street outside the pub. “I thought maybe yesterday's excitement might have scared you off.”
“I'm not scared off by anything,” I reply. “Especially people who make threats.”
“Threats?”
“Never mind.”
“We're just taking a short trip to Crenford,” he explains, before unlocking the car and climbing inside. “I don't know whether you know the place, but it's not too far away.”
I climb into the passenger seat.
“What are we gonna do there?” I ask.
“I'll explain once we've arrived.”
“Why can't you explain now?”
“Because, frankly, I'm worried you'd get right out of this car and refuse to come with me.” He pauses. “I actually need your help, Mark,” he adds, as he starts the engine. “This would be a little difficult without you.”
I wait as he eases the car away from the parking spot, and then I sit in silence as he drives along the street. We take the next turn, and I glance out at the Neills' cottage as we go past. There's a light on in the living room, which means Caroline and Brian must be out of bed now. I guess they've probably looked in my room, which means they must know I've snuck out. Which means my fate is sealed and they'll be sending me back to London as soon as they can.
So much for a fresh start in Briarwych. This whole visit has turned out to be a complete dead-end.
***
“So what does Judith Prendergast want?” I ask as I follow Liam away from the car, toward a large, nondescript building over by the gate. “I mean, do ghosts actually want something, or are they just happy floating about and scaring people?”
“Contrary to popular belief,” he replies, as he checks his watch, “ghosts don't spend their time banging chains or slamming doors. Not real ghosts, anyway. They tend to remain because of some unfinished business, and this usually becomes something of an obsession with them.”
“So what's Judith Prendergast obsessed about?”
“I have a few theories, but I'm not quite certain yet.”
“If she didn't like Kerry and me going into the church,” I continue, “then why did she unlock the door in the first place?”
“I've been wondering the same thing myself.”
“Why did she let us in, and then kill Kerry?”
“That's one of the big questions that's bothering me,” he says as we reach a door and he swipes a card. The door clicks and he pulls it open. “There's another one that's causing me even more trouble, however.”
“What's that?”
“I'm not just wondering why she killed Kerry,” he says, turning to me. “I'm also wondering why she let you live.”
“Oh.” I pause for a moment. “I didn't think about it like that.”
“Maybe it's just that Kerry was loud and blasphemous. After all, you did tell me that she sat on the altar.” He pauses. “Or maybe it's something else. I think it's something else. Come on, let's get this over with.”
“Get what over with?” I ask as he heads inside. Before I can follow, I spot a blue and white sign on the wall, and I feel a shiver pass through my chest as I realize where we are. “Crenford Coroner's Office?” I say cautiously. “Why are we at Crenford Coroner's Office?”
***
“I told you this was going to be difficult,” Liam says, keeping his voice low as we stand in an empty, brightly-lit corridor. “I wish I could tell you that it's okay to back out, but the truth is that I need you here. You're my only link to her.”
“I don't want to see Kerry's body,” I tell him, struggling to hold back tears. “Why didn't you say we were coming here?”
“Because you'd have refused.”
“Damn straight!”
“I arranged for her burial to be postponed,” he explains. “It's not as if she had any family-members who were trying to make arrangements. I was hoping I wouldn't need to come here and do this, but I'm afraid I need to know exactly what Kerry went through when she was in the church that night. I need to know exactly who or what she encountered.”
“I told you, she -”
“I need to know her side of it.”
“Good luck with that,” I reply, “because she's dead.”
“That's where you come in,” he says. “She's been gone for a little over two weeks. That means that there's still time to speak to her.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I ask.
“I can bring her back, for a few minutes,” he tells me. “I don't expect you to believe me right now, but you'll see the proof for yourself in a moment or two. I could maybe do it alone, but you knew her, you were with her when she died. Your presence will make the process far easier.” He pauses, watching me as if he expects me to suddenly just agree with him. “I know you're scared, but -”
“I'm not scared!” I snap.
“Really? I would be, in your position.” He pauses again. “I need you to battle through the fear, Mark, instead of pretending that it isn't there. I wouldn't ask you to bear witness to this today, if I didn't absolutely need you. I was up all night researching some very old texts, and I believe that your friend is in a position to confirm or refute my theory about what's really happening at Briarwych Church. There's no -”
Before he can finish, a nearby door creaks open and a man emerges from one of the rooms, wearing a white uniform.
“She's ready,” he says softly.
“It's time,” Liam tells me. “I'm begging you, find the strength to come and do this. You have no idea how important it could be. Not just for Briarwych, but for the whole world.”
I take a deep breath, determined to tell him that I'm out of here, but as I look at the open door I can't help wondering whether Kerry's body is really in the next room. I don't want to see her, of course; I mean, who would? At the same time, I've come this far and I feel like she should get some justice, and right now Liam seems to be the only person who actually gives a damn about what happened to her. If all of this had been left up to Caroline and Brian and the others in Briarwych, Kerry would probably have been buried by now and nobody would be asking any more questions.
“Okay,” I say finally, although my voice is trembling slightly. “Let's get it over with, yeah?”
“Thank you.”
He heads over to the door, where he stops and whispers something to the technician. Then he goes into the next room, leaving me to take another deep breath before I start to follow. With each step I feel more and more anxious, until I reach the door and I swear my chest is going to crush in on itself. As the technician steps aside and then walks away, I stop in the doorway and freeze as I see the pale, lifeless body on a metal table in the center of the examination room.
It's her.
Somehow, I was hoping it wouldn't be Kerry, that this would all turn out to be some kind of sick mistake. Even from here, however, I can see the side of her face and can tell that it's definitely her.
I want to be sick, but instead I step into the room. At least there's no stench, and the whole scene feels strangely calm. They've even put a gray sheet over her torso and upper legs, to give her some dignity, although as I step closer I can see that there are two thick jagged lines running up from beneath the sheet and almost to her shoulders, with stitches holding the edges of her skin together. I guess that must be a wound that's left over from the autopsy, and sure enough I notice a moment later that there are more staples holding several deep incisions shut.
For a mome
nt, I can't help but imagine her brain being removed and weighed, and all her guts too. They must have been poking around inside her for hours, trying to figure out why she died.
“Are you okay?” Liam asks.
I nod.
“If you're not, you can -”
“I'm fine,” I say firmly. “Just leave it, okay?”
I can't stop looking at Kerry's face, however. Last time I saw her, in the kitchen at the Neills' cottage, she looked like she was in pain, but at least there was some color to her skin. Now she looks completely calm, but she's totally white as well. I guess they took all her blood out before they put her in the freezer.
Turning, I see that Liam's setting out some items on a nearby trolley. I spot another vial of holy water, which seems to be something he carries wherever he goes, as well as various small trinkets and jewels.
“Two weeks isn't an inordinately long time,” he explains. “It shouldn't take too long at all to bring her back.”
“This is nuts,” I tell him. “You'd better not disrespect her.”
“I would never do that,” he says, as he takes a small bottle from his pocket and unscrews the lid. “This entire procedure is about finding out what really happened to her. I think that's pretty respectful. Don't you?”
I don't answer. Instead, I just stare down at Kerry's face. I want to apologize to her, to tell her that I'm sorry I didn't stop her going into the church. I know it's not really my fault, but I still feel like I could have done something different. A moment later, noticing something flickering nearby, I turn to see that Liam has lit two small candles, which he proceeds to place on either side of Kerry's head.
“What are those for?” I ask.
“Even the dead need a little warmth,” he replies calmly. “We have to provide all the encouragement that we can, to get her soul back here.”
“Back from where?”
“That's the sixty-four million dollar question, isn't it?” He lights two more candles and then places them on either side of her neck, just above her shoulders. “I always maintain that it's best we don't know too much about the world beyond this one. Otherwise, we might not treat this life with the reverence that it requires.”
He lights another pair of candles and then walks around the table, before setting them down next to Kerry's feet.
“But this isn't actually gonna work, is it?” I ask. “What are you gonna do? Are you gonna pretend she's talking through you, something like that?”
He doesn't respond. Instead, he takes a vial of holy water and unscrews the lid, and then he carefully sprinkles some drops on Kerry's forehead. They quickly start dribbling down onto her eyes and then down the sides of her cheeks, like tears.
“Are you sure you should be doing that?” I ask.
He empties the rest of the vial onto Kerry's neck and shoulders, before putting the vial away and then taking a small wooden cross and gently setting it on Kerry's forehead.
“How do you know this shit works?” I continue. “Have you done it before?”
“I have assisted before.”
“And what happened?”
“In some of the cases, absolutely nothing. In others, we succeeded in bringing the subject back for a short time. Father Merrisford taught me what I know when it comes to these techniques, he was very well-versed in the scriptures and he had a certain knack when it came to the darker arts.” He takes a small book from his pocket and begins to search through its pages. “It might take a while,” he adds, “to stir her from her rest. A lot depends on what happened to her soul after death. She might be too far away to...”
His voice trails off, and he glances at me.
“Well,” he adds, “let's hope for the best. This might be boring for you, but please stay in the room.”
Once he's found whatever he was looking for in the book, he sets it down before taking a small knife and pressing the blade against his finger. I'm about to ask him what he's doing, but suddenly he slices the blade and a bead of blood runs from the wound.
“This is getting weirder,” I tell him.
Ignoring me, he reaches down with his other hand and touches Kerry's left eyelid. I want to tell him to stop, but instead I wince as I watch him opening the lid to reveal Kerry's dead, marble-like left eye. And then, tilting his other hand, Liam waits until the dribble of blood falls and lands directly on Kerry's eyeball.
“Man, you shouldn't be doing this,” I say through gritted teeth, as I watch the blood trickle to the corner of her eyes. “Come on, none of this is actually going to do anything, is it? It's just bullshit.”
He picks the book back up and looks at the pages for a moment. And then, before I can ask what the book's about, he starts reading in some weird language that I don't understand. Maybe it's Latin or Greek or some stuff like that, but he's keeping his voice low as he talks and I feel like maybe I shouldn't interrupt him.
Looking down at Kerry's face again, I watch her eyes. One is still closed, and the other remains open with the trickle of blood having run down to the corner next to the bridge of her nose. I stare for a moment, before realizing that this is dumb and that I don't even know what I'm waiting for. It's not like she's going to suddenly sit up and start talking, but I guess Liam has managed to sucker me with all his talk about bringing people back, and with all these stupid props he's brought along. Seriously, I can't even believe that he was able to get permission to do something like this.
Finally, feeling a little sick, I turn and head over to the window. The blinds are closed, and when I open them a little I see nothing more than a boring old car park. The sky looks pretty dark in the distance, so I guess there might be rain later. There's nothing particularly interesting about the view, but at least it's better than looking at Kerry's dead body. This whole trip is completely pointless and it's a colossal waste of our time. As Liam continues to read, I watch the car park in the hope that something interesting might happen out there, and then I let out a sigh.
Liam's a liar. This whole thing is pointless.
Chapter Eighteen
Mark
With my eyes still closed, I sit on the floor with my back to the wall and try to ignore the sound of Liam's voice droning on and on. He's been reading from that book for almost two hours now, and I'm starting to think that the guy really doesn't know when to give up. He might know a lot of useful information about churches and religions and shit like that, but I think he's really overreaching himself with this crazy ritual he's performing.
He's also driving me nuts.
Opening my eyes, I look over at the table and see that nothing has changed. Liam's still reading from that book, and Kerry's body is still flat on its back with the sheet covering all but her head, shoulders and feet. The candles are still burning, and I suppose the blood's still in her eye, but nothing's actually happening. And as my frustration continues to grow, I finally get to my feet and check my pockets for a few coins.
“I'm going to check out that vending machine,” I tell Liam, before heading to the door. “I'll be back in a minute or two.”
Instead of replying, he simply continues to read from the book. I sigh as I push the door open, and then I make my way along the corridor until I reach the machine at the far end. I was hoping to get a Coke, but I don't have enough coins so I have to make do with a shitty carton of orange juice. As I slide the coins one-by-one into the slot, I remind myself that I'm in no hurry to get back into the other room. I don't know how long Liam intends to keep going with all this rubbish, but I feel like I'm about to lose my temper. Honestly, I'm having to hold back from punching this stupid machine.
“Fuck!” I mutter, as I put the last coin in and then close my eyes, leaning my head for a moment against the glass panel as I hear the machine slowly starting to spit out the carton.
I'm trying to keep my shit together, but I can still just about hear Liam's voice drifting through from the main room and I just want to tell him to shut the hell up. Lately I've been getting pretty good
at controlling my anger, but right now he's pushing me like I've never been pushed before and a moment later I realize I've inadvertently closed both my hands to form fists. I hear the carton dropping into the tray at the bottom of the machine, but all I can focus on is the fact that this sense of anger is growing and growing in my body. It's almost like I'm panicking, and finally I realize this has all gone on long enough.
“No more,” I whisper, before opening my eyes and storming back along the corridor, breaking into a run as I reach the door and hurry back into the next room. “Stop!” I shout at Liam. “You have to stop right now! This isn't working!”
I wait, shaking with rage, but he's still calmly reading from that stupid book.
“Why won't you stop?” I yell, and then I hurry over and reach out to snatch the book from his hands. “Just stop already! You're gonna -”
Suddenly he stops, and at that moment I feel a powerful presence rush against my body. I immediately look down, and I see with a sense of horror that both of Kerry's eyes are now wide open, and she's staring straight up at me.
Chapter Nineteen
Kerry
I want this feeling to go away right now. This is exactly how it was, just before the ambulance crew got to me, when I was seconds from dying.
“Um,” I manage to say finally, as I start shivering violently, “I think I...”
I pause, and then suddenly everything goes black and I feel myself slump down to the floor.
And then I open my eyes and see Mark standing right above me, staring down at me with a gormless, stupid look on his face. I immediately try to open my mouth to tell him to go away, but somehow I can't get my mouth to open, and then I realize that the ceiling looks different. It's as if I'm not in the Neills' stupid little cottage anymore. This ceiling looks more like something you'd see in a hospital, but that doesn't make sense unless somehow I collapsed and now I'm waking up.