The Death of Addie Gray Page 16

  My voice trails off for a moment, as I try to work out the exact plan. Finally I realize that there's no time for that now, that I just have to figure it out when I get to the other side. Looking around, I spot some old farming equipment in the corner. Getting to my feet, I wander over and examine the pile of old blades and machines, and finally I pick up a rusty knife. I stare at the blade's edge, before turning and heading back over to Jesophat. Kneeling next to him, I take another deep breath, trying to steady my nerves.

  “Oh God,” I whisper, closing my eyes. “Give me the strength to do this.”

  My whole body is trembling now, as I slowly move the rusty blade closer to my left wrist.

  “Give me strength,” I stammer under my breath. “Lord, please... Give me strength.”

  Finally I run the blade against the flesh of my wrist, but not hard enough to cut through. With my eyes still squeezed tight shut and my teeth gritted, I prepare to try again.

  The sirens are getting closer again.

  “Lord, let me do this,” I whimper, as fresh tears flow down my face even though my eyes remain closed. “Let me do this so I can go to him and get him back.”

  I slice the blade against my wrist again, but still I don't use enough pressure. The rusty edge catches slightly, tearing my flesh in a couple of places, but when I open my eyes I only see a few beads of blood.

  The sirens are closer still. Closer than ever, as if they're finally on the dirt road that leads out this way.

  Looking over at Jesophat, I see that he's so pale now.

  “This is for you,” I sob, tasting my own salty tears as they trickle down past my mouth. “God, give me the strength I need to find my darling in the next place, so I can figure out how to bring us both back.”

  I pause, still trembling, still trying to make a deep cut.

  I can hear the cars bumping along the road now.

  And then, in my mind's eye, I see the most beautiful house. It's not huge and it's not like some kind of mansion, but it's neat and clean and white and beautiful, with a picket fence running around the yard. There are other houses like it, all in a neat row in the suburb of some town or city. I can even smell fresh-cut grass, and I can hear people laughing and playing. Fresh tears roll down my face as I imagine the inside of the house, and I see children running happily through the rooms. It's like a dream house, a kind of paradise, and finally I see Jesophat sitting at the kitchen table, reading a newspaper.

  We can have that.

  We can be good people.

  I just have to go find him, and rescue him, and then I have to somehow bring us back to the world so we can get everything we've ever wanted.

  The sirens are much closer now. I can hear the cars slowing outside the barn, turning as they come to a halt.

  With a renewed sense of purpose, I slice the blade against my wrist for the third time, and this time I carve as deep as possible, and I let out another gasp as I feel the knife cutting through veins and tendons and scraping against bone. Looking down, I watch in horror as blood sprays from the wound, hitting me in the face before I have a chance to pull away.

  Turning my wrist over, I watch the blood running freely, but my sense of horror is quickly changing to something else, something happier.

  I've started the journey.

  Now I have to finish it.

  A shiver of frenzied anticipation passes through my chest, before I realize I need to do the other wrist as well. My left hand already feels weak, but I manage to grip the knife and then I slice through my right wrist. There's no hesitation this time, no doubt or uncertainty. Just love. I cut deep, even deeper than before, and I manage to keep from crying out as more hot blood erupts and runs down my arm, collecting for a moment in the palm of my hand before trickling between my fingers and dribbling to the ground.

  Car doors slam outside.

  “Oh God, please let me find him,” I whimper, dropping the knife and then resting my head on Jesophat's chest, while clutching my bleeding wrists to my belly. The front of my dress is quickly covered in blood, but I keep my gaze fixed firmly on Jesophat's face.

  There are voices nearby.

  Shouting.

  “I don't care about them,” I sob, reaching up after a moment with a trembling, blood-soaked hand and touching Jesophat's chin. My red-stained fingers run through his stubble, and I smile even though the sirens are closer than before. I can feel the force of my dying heart pumping blood out through the holes in my wrists. “They can't stop us,” I continue. “They couldn't before, and they won't now. We're going somewhere far away, my love, and then we can find a way back. And we will come back, you know. You've gotta trust me, like you trusted me before, 'cause I won't let you down. I love you too much for...”

  My voice trails off and my eyes start to close, as more and more blood flows from my torn wrists.

  “I love you too much to ever be apart from you,” I whisper, still stroking his stubble with a bloodied fingertip, smiling as I feel his voice-box. “And when we make it back...”

  My voice fades for a moment, and my breathing is becoming more labored.

  “When we make it back,” I continue, as the footsteps get closer, “we won't hurt anyone, not unless we have to. We'll disappear and become good people. Husband and wife, with kids of our own. We'll have a big, beautiful house with a yard and a fence. We'll be like all the other good people in the world. We don't need to be special, Jesophat. We don't need to stand out or be great people. Just good people, that'll be enough. We'll throw off the damage that was done to us, and we'll be...”

  “Are you in there, you little murderers?” an angry voice calls out. “Put your hands up, or we're coming in shooting!”

  I can feel myself slipping away. It's as if my body is becoming lighter and lighter, as if piece by piece my soul is rising up and going to that other place. I can't feel my legs now, or my chest, and I can't even feel myself breathing. Slowly, as each part of me fades to nothing, I realize that the strongest, most vivid part of my body is my pinky finger, still firmly gripping Jesophat's.

  “You've had your warning!” the voice yells. “When we come in there, you'd better be on your knees with your hands in the air, or we'll open fire!”

  All of me is gone now. Even my mind, I think. I can feel my pinky finger still wrapped around Jesophat's, though. There are voices in the distance, still yelling and shouting, but they're getting further and further away. All I'm aware of now is my finger, until even that fades away into the all-encompassing glare of whatever comes next.

  There's something. I'm sure of it.

  Serriah

  Sitting up suddenly and opening my eyes, I let out a gasp as I see a vast, rolling landscape of darkness stretching to the horizon. There are voices and screams all around, and figures lumbering past. Turning, I see a vast wall towering above us all.

  I was right!

  PART FIVE

  DENSBERG, MICHIGAN

  TODAY

  Erica

  “Mrs. Gray? Can you hear me?”

  Opening my eyes suddenly, I see a vaguely familiar face looking down at me. Above him, morning light is casting leafy shadows across the ceiling.

  “Addie?” I whisper.

  “Mrs. Gray, are you okay? What happened?”

  I sit up so fast, I almost bang my head against him. One of my wrists is free from the ropes, but the other is still tied, although the man has already started getting me free. Turning to him, I realize that somehow Detective Brabham has found me, and night has given way to a cold, gray morning.

  “Where's Addie?” I ask, trying not to panic.

  “I was about to ask you the same thing,” he replies, pulling the second rope free and moving down to untie my ankles. “I arrived a few minutes ago and the front door was open. I don't think there's anyone else in the house. There's certainly no sign of your daughter.”

  ***

  “Addie!” I call out, limping through to the front room.

  I wait, but th
e house seems preternaturally quiet, at least until Brabham comes through after me.

  “Mrs. Gray -”

  “Quiet!” I hiss, listening to the silence, hoping and praying for some hint of her. “Addie!” I shout again, although I can already hear the desperation in my voice.

  “I really don't think she's here,” Brabham tells me, stopping in the doorway. “I'm gonna put out a call, but can you think of anywhere she might have gone? A friend's house, maybe, or a favorite park?”

  Turning to him, I feel for a moment as if I'm about to collapse. I'm wired and exhausted at the same time, but pure, blind panic is keeping me on my feet.

  “Are you sure it was Addie who tied you to the bed?” he asks.

  I nod.

  “That seems...” He pauses. “That seems unusual, Mrs. Gray. For a nine-year-old girl to tie her mother to the bed, I mean. I'm struggling to -”

  “She thought a ghost was coming through,” I tell him. “I know it sounds crazy, but she thinks she has the soul of this long-dead teenager in her body, and she thinks her long-dead lover is coming right behind.”

  “She thinks she's caught in a trans-mortal appropriation of a physical form?” he asks, sounding shocked. “Well, I've got to admit, I didn't see that coming.”

  Reaching around to the back of my neck, I feel the patch of scratched skin. “I think she thinks someone named Jesophat is supposed to somehow inhabit my body. I know this sounds crazy, but...”

  My voice trails off as I start to realize the truth I've been ignoring for so long.

  “Maybe she is crazy,” I whisper, although I instantly hate myself for saying that. “No, that's not true,” I stammer. “She's not crazy. She's upset, she needs help, but she's not crazy.”

  “And your husband?”

  I turn to him.

  “I'm just trying to figure out who might have been motivated to kill your husband,” he continues. “We've run out of other options and -”

  “No,” I say firmly, realizing what he's trying to suggest.

  He sighs. “There's just -”

  “No!”

  He nods. “Maybe that's a discussion for another day. Right now, we have a nine-year-old girl whose location we need to determine as quickly as possible. Then we can figure out the rest, and see what to do about the spirit that's taken root in her body. There might be ways to get that out of her.”

  “You don't really believe that stuff, do you?” I ask, hurrying to the desk in the corner and pulling the drawer open. “The emergency travel money is gone,” I continue. “There should be two hundred dollars here in an envelope, but it's been taken.”

  “The universe is a vast and mysterious place,” Brabham replies. “I've always been of the opinion that it would be inexcusably arrogant for any man or woman to claim they understand it all. We have to at least keep your daughter's claims in mind, no matter how difficult that might be.”

  I turn to him. “Are you serious?”

  “I'm saying we should keep our options open, M'am. I don't know about you, but I've certainly seen things in my life that have made me question the nature of reality. Sometimes, during my meditation sessions, I've even -”

  “My phone,” I mutter, pushing past him and looking around to see if my phone's in the room. “Do you have my number?”

  “Calling you now,” he replies.

  I wait, but although I can hear a ring-tone from his phone, there's silence in the rest of the house. A moment later, his phone drops the call.

  “It's on,” he points out, “but it doesn't seem to be here.”

  Grabbing my laptop, I fumble with trembling fingers to log-in and activate the phone tracking app.

  “Come on,” I mutter as the internet connection dawdles, but after a few seconds I see that the app is picking up my phone just fine. A map fills the screen, but I don't recognize any of the roads. “It's moving,” I whisper, zooming out a little to get a better view. “I think Addie has my phone, she's obsessed with that thing and -”

  Stopping suddenly, I see a familiar name at the top of the map.

  “Hedderburgh, Ohio,” I read from the screen, before turning to Brabham. “Addie's going to Hedderburgh, Ohio. She's going back to the town where Serriah and Jesophat died!”

  Serriah

  It looks the same. Forty years since I was last here, and I swear nothing has changed.

  Standing on a hill overlooking the town, I feel a shiver pass through my chest as I watch the distant roads and buildings. I can even see the store where Jesophat and I tried our fateful robbery, although I'm quite sure Mr. and Mrs. Donovan are long gone by now. If they weren't, I'd go down there and I'd...

  No.

  There's no time for that. I'm not here for revenge. All I care about is finding Jesophat's spirit and working out why he still hasn't come through to join me, and then finding a way to fix that. Revenge is for weak, morally impoverished people. I'm better than that.

  With a cold wind blasting across the field, I turn and start my long trek toward the farmhouse.

  Erica

  “Local police are already searching all relevant locations,” Brabham tells me as he sits next to me and holds out a sandwich. “You need to eat. We'll be there soon.”

  Shaking my head, I look out the train window. For a moment, all I can do is watch as the city's suburbs flash past, but finally a sense of frustration starts rising through my chest and I feel as if I'm about to explode.

  “Why the hell are we on a train?” I ask, turning back to him. “This can't be the quickest way to get to Hedderburgh!”

  “Actually, it is,” he replies. “I checked it all out. Planes and traffic routes would both be about three hours longer, all things considered. We're lucky Hedderburgh isn't too far away, and the train timetables just happened to work out in our favor. For once, it pays to let the train take the strain.” He sets one of the sandwiches down and starts opening the other. “I'm sure someone from the local PD will be able to find Addie and look after her until we arrive. The hard part is going to be deciding what to do once we've got her.”

  “She needs help,” I mutter.

  “I think that is very true.”

  “She needs serious help. Maybe even... Maybe she even needs to be in a hospital.”

  “I know someone who specializes in corporeal exorcisms,” he replies.

  I turn to him. “What?”

  “Well, when I say I know someone...” He pauses. “It's my sister, and we don't talk, not anymore, but I could still refer you. Complicated matter, I don't wanna bore you.”

  I stare at him for a moment, trying to work out whether this is part of some sick joke. “You really believe in stuff like that?” I ask finally.

  “I wouldn't be here if I didn't,” he replies. “I'd have passed the case on to the local PD in Hedderburgh, and I'd be back at my desk by now.”

  “It can't be true,” I tell him. “My little girl isn't... I mean, it's just not possible. She's deluded, there's been something wrong with her ever since she woke up from the coma, but that's all it is! She doesn't have the soul of some 1970's teenager stuck in her body.”

  “She wouldn't be the first person to make such a claim.”

  “You don't know Addie,” I reply. “She's smart, she's creative, she has a wonderful imagination. I just never realized that those things could turn against her like this.” I pause for a moment, as the train continues to rattle along. “If some other girl's soul was in my daughter's body,” I add finally, “then where's Addie?”

  I wait for a reply, but when I turn to Brabham I see the concern in his eyes.

  “If someone else woke up in her body,” I continue, taking a deep breath, “then does that mean... Did Addie never come back at all?”

  “I believe in leaving all the options on the table,” he continues, before taking a bite of his sandwich. He chews for a few seconds before swallowing. “I've seen things, Mrs. Gray. Never anything truly substantial, but glimpses, enough to make me wonder. I
t's kind of a hobby of mine, to read into the subject matter and let my thoughts explore new possibilities. And that's all they are, really. Possibilities. Still, I've seen the odd manifestation over the years, and I certainly think we should entertain the possibility that your daughter is, at least to some degree, linked to some kind of supernatural manifestation.”

  “So you've seen something like this before?” I ask cautiously, barely able to believe that I'm entertaining the idea. “Like... someone who's possessed?”

  “No, M'am,” he replies, shaking his head. “I've never seen that before. I've read about it, but I've never seen it myself.”

  “So... What have you seen? A ghost?”

  He shakes his head again. “Never seen a ghost.”

  “But you said you'd seen something.”

  He nods, while still chewing. “Just little hints here and there. Shadows that move. Faces at windows when there shouldn't be anyone out there. Enough to make me want to keep asking questions, that's for sure.” He pauses. “I just want to know for sure, Mrs. Gray. Maybe there's nothing else out there, and I can accept that, but maybe there is something. And if there is, I would very much like to get a look at it.” Another pause. “Then again, maybe we all have to face it eventually. You draw your last breath, your soul leaves your body, and then you wake up... Where? I guess I'd just like a little advance warning, so I can think about it ahead of time. Like knowing which station the train's going to pull into next. I've lived all my life, waiting for proof of the paranormal, and I'm certain that one day I'll find that proof.”