Echoes (Whisper Trilogy Book 2) (25 page)

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Riverwood. Tonight you will embark on a televised quest to discover the truth about the legends of these woods and the house which used to sit on these very grounds. Of course, many of you will not know each other, and I’ll leave the bulk of the mingling to you as individuals. If you have any problems or questions, either speak to me or my brother Dane, who I’m sure you all recognize from his television show. Have a good breakfast and prepare for a day of investigation.”

“To add,” Dane said between sips of his coffee. “You’ll have noticed a lot of lights and TV cameras around. There are more out in the grounds too. Please try to ignore them. Act as if they aren’t there. Thank you.”

Henry left them to their meal as the general chatter resumed. Emma and Carrie grabbed breakfast from the self-serve buffet and returned to their seats. Scott was sitting opposite Carrie, and was in conversation with a thin man with high cheekbones and a neat goatee beard.

“This is Bruce,” Scott said as he grinned at the girls. “He’s a direct descendant of Will Jones, the guy who built Hope House. He owns the land here.”

“Co-owns,” Bruce corrected with a smile. “Mr. Marshall owns half of it.”

“I thought Will had no family?” Carrie said. “I’m sure I remember reading it somewhere.”

“You probably did,” Bruce said. “I didn’t know we were related until Mr. Marshall came to look for me. It seems Will had an affair with my mother when they were both too young to know any better. I grew up without any knowledge of the family lineage until earlier this year.”

“How did you end up owning the lands if you didn’t know you were even part of the Jones family?” Carrie said.

Bruce turned towards her and smiled. “It turns out my father knew well enough about me even if he never directly spoke of me. My mother always thought it was best if I grew up without knowing him. The man who brought me up, Alan Kent, is the man I call father. Will Jones might be my biological kin but he means nothing to me.”

“So how did you go from no knowledge of Will’s existence to co-owning the land?” Carrie asked.

It’s quite simple really,” Bruce said with a smile. “Mr. Marshall was kind enough to sit down with me and go through the history of what happened with me prior to purchasing his share of the land.”

“Is it information you’d be willing to share?” Carrie asked.

“I don’t see why not, if you really want to hear it.”

“Definitely. We’re all really interested in the stories of what happened here. The history as we know it is spotty though, especially around the early years of the Hope House build.”

“I can fill you in about that easily enough. This is how I understand it to have gone down. Will’s great grandfather, Michael, first bought the land for the Hope House project to begin sometime back in the early eighteen-hundreds. After his death it was passed down to his son, Alfred, who decided to lease the house separately whilst keeping the land. There were plans in those early years to still go ahead with the housing project, of which Hope House was just the first. Of course, there were all sorts of problems in the place itself which are well documented. When the murders and suicides grew in frequency, Alfred decided it was becoming more trouble than it was worth, and so decided to sell to the bank under the agreement that he would retain anonymous control and ownership of the lands it sat on.”

“Is something like that legal?” Scott asked.

“That was my first thought too. You have to remember though, banking was different back then. Banks were small companies run by a manager who knew you by first name terms. There were no credit checks or any of the stuff you have today. If you were respectable and trustworthy, a deal could usually be struck. Anyway, my grandfather and the bank worked out some loophole which would keep both house and lands separate whilst under the same ownership. The bank would keep fifty percent of the revenue from the rent or sale of the house. My grandfather would remain anonymous. Anyhow, over time, things got messy and the bank, which was a family-run business, foreclosed. My grandfather re-purchased the land from them before they went out of business, hoping that by giving the land as one to the next generation of the family it would inspire them to follow through with the initial plan to build a self-sufficient forest town for the rich to make home.”

“That obviously never happened,” Emma said.

“Give him a chance to tell us why,” Carrie snapped.

Bruce cleared his throat, looked at the two girls, then went on.

“You’re right of course. The series of deaths and suicides were really starting to make the public afraid. Even the banks were growing weary. There were so many deaths that the house was taken off sale and made into a rental property, just to avoid the headache of trawling through paperwork every time someone died there. The deeds to the land were eventually passed on to Will along with the Old Oak tavern. He knew the history of course. It had been a stain on our family history for years. Although he wasn’t willing to offload the land due to the sentimental value to the family, he wanted no part of the house. He approached a local woman about somehow protecting the house for anyone who lived there. She was something of a practicing witch.”

“Annie Briggs,” Emma said. “My grandma knew her.”

“Yeah, that’s her,” Bruce said with a nod. “She did something, some kind of protective voodoo shit to cleanse the house, and although skeptical at first, Will found that it worked. The house was put on the market and leased by an old couple who lived there trouble-free for some time before they decided to move to Australia. Will still didn’t want any dealings with it, and put the house up for sale via Donovan’s real estates.”

“I still don’t get it,” Scott said. “If the house was sold to the Samsons, wouldn’t the land be theirs even taking the fire into account?”

“It was. After the fire, the Samsons didn’t want anything to do with the place, including paying the mortgage repayments. The banks repossessed the land, which was sold back to the Jones estate for a knockdown price. Of course, with Will dead, the lawyers in charge of his estate started digging in search of a next of kin and found me. You could have knocked me over with a feather when I found out I owned a good chunk of land and a bar to boot.”

“You own the Oak too?” Scott asked.

“Yeah, it seems so.”

“It’s been closed since the uh… incident.”

“You can say it,” Bruce said. “Since my father’s murder. I know.”

“Do you plan to re-open?” Carrie asked.

“I don’t know yet. I’m looking into it. I already have a life away from Oakwell as well as a business selling used cars, so it’s a big ask. Anyway, what about you kids? What brings you here?”

“We won tickets,” Scott said. “Or at least, she did.” He nodded at Carrie.

“My dad works for the local radio station. He got some free promos given. He knew the four of us were already really interested in the story of what had happened here, and so gave us them.”

“Nice. So do you believe it?” Bruce asked, grinning at them in turn. “Not the murders. The other stuff. The haunting.”

Emma was about to answer when her eye was drawn to the dining room entrance. The others saw too and the chatter in the room was almost instantly silenced. Steve and Melody walked into the room, keeping their heads low, sitting down at the top of the table. Even though many of the people in the room didn’t know each other, almost every single one of them knew exactly who the new arrivals were. They were as much a part of the legend as any other part of it now. The ones who got away. The ones who had beaten the curse. Steve pulled his baseball cap lower to hide his burns as best he could, trying to ignore the army of eyes trained on him. Melody poured them both a coffee, also trying to ignore the stares. Gradually, the conversation picked up again amid occasional glances at the new arrivals.

“Did you know they were coming?” Scott whispered across the table to Carrie, his grin wide and white.

“You think I’d have kept it to myself if I had known?” she replied. “I can’t believe someone managed to get them to come here. They have some balls.”

“Who are they?” Bruce asked, flicking a quick glance to the head of the table.

“You don’t know?” Scott replied.

“Hey, gimmie a break here. This is all new to me. I can’t help it if I don’t know everything.”

“How much do you know about the last owners of Hope House?” Scott whispered, unable to stop staring like a star-struck teenager at Steve and Melody.

“A little. I know they believed in the curse that the fire was started by Donovan the same night he killed my father, and that he wanted to kill the Sampsons but ended up dying in the fire himself.”

“Yeah, well that’s them.”

“Who?”

“The ones who used to live here, or in the house I should say. They were the last people to live in Hope House. They were the ones who got away.” Scott said, clearly enjoying the drama.

“Bullshit!” Bruce said, now also grinning like Scott.

“It’s true,” Carrie said, smiling at Bruce. “The man who killed your father, Donovan, had taken a shine to her,” she said, nodding at Melody. “Drove him crazy apparently.”Scott picked up the story from Carrie, noting that a few of the crew at the neighboring seats were now also listening in. “The official word is he made a mistake, and the fire got out of control, trapping him. There are rumors though that the spirits of the house drove him mad and made them both stay in the house and wait to be burned to death. The guy Donovan didn’t have the strength to fight, but according to rumor, the husband did. Maybe it was the love for his wife or something, I don’t know. Whatever it was he just about managed to escape with his life before the house burned to the ground around him. Take a look at him. You can see the burns.”

Bruce and a few of the crew were now craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the burns.

Emma was only half listening. She was watching Cody. He was showing signs of returning to the Cody of old until the Samsons had walked into the room. Now, he was staring at them, his eyes filled with something which frightened her. It was more than rage. It was some kind of darkness, an arrogance and ancient knowledge which was absolutely frightening.

“So what do you think, Dane?” Sean Lemar said from near the bottom of the table. “Are we gonna get something on film this time? Am I gonna need my ghost repellent? I hope not cos’ I forgot to pack it.” A chuckle went round the table. Dane was about to respond when he was beaten to it, the six words uttered by Melody were enough to bring the wall of silence crashing down around the table for the second time in quick succession.

II

“This isn’t some kind of joke.”

Melody looked down the table as she said it, locking eyes with the dozen strangers who waited for her to go on.

“We didn’t want to come here. We wouldn’t have if we didn’t have to. I don’t know what it is that exists here. All I know is it’s something ancient. Something darker than anything any of you are prepared for. By the expressions on your faces when we arrived, most of you know who we are. You know what happened to us.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it, it was just a joke,” Sean said, his cheeks flushing as he felt everyone watching him.

“It’s okay,” Melody replied. “We didn’t believe it either. It’s farfetched. It seems unbelievable. I wanted to think there was good in everything in this world. I tried to see the positives in whatever I saw. This thing though, this darkness is different. There’s nothing good. I know a lot of you think because the house is gone this… darkness has gone with it. You’re wrong. Whatever it is lives in the earth. It lives in the trees. It’s there waiting.”

“For what?” Dane asked.

“Blood.”

Everyone turned towards Cody who was now looking directly at Melody. “It wants blood. We shouldn’t be here,” he said.

“How do you know?” Melody asked him.

“They told me.”

Emma stared at Cody open-mouthed. She wasn’t alone. He went on, addressing Melody directly as if nobody else existed in the room. “They spoke to me in that place. The place where nothing grows. You know where I mean, don’t you?”

She nodded.

“We shouldn’t be here,” he repeated quietly.

“Wait, who is this kid?” Dane said, trying to hide his fear behind aggression. “What the hell does he know about anything?”

“He’s the only one here apart from us who does know,” Melody said to Dane. Then turned back to Cody. “Will they hurt us?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he said, tears threatening to spill onto his cheeks. “They were all talking at once.” He whispered, then stood and walked quickly out of the room, leaving the rest of the diners in stunned silence. Melody and Steve locked eyes across the table and in the way only couples who’ve been together for a long time were able to communicate without words, a decision was made.

It was time to leave.

They stood as one and left the rest of the diners behind to discuss what had just happened.

III

Henry was waiting in their room when they let themselves in to pack.

“Don’t say anything. Don’t even bother with the threats,” Melody said, grabbing her overnight bag and packing it.

“Look, I overheard the conversation downstairs and anticipated this move. I also wanted to remind you of our agreement.”

“Screw the agreement,” Steve said as he helped Melody pack.

“You’re really running because of the ramblings of a teenager?”

“We should never have come here.”

“Please, just listen to me,” Henry said, taking a step into the room.

“No,” Steve snapped. “Listening to you is the last thing we should do. Somehow you brainwashed us into staying when we should never have even come here in the first place.”

“I don’t think you understand,” Henry said.

“Look pal,” Steve snapped, spinning towards Henry. “If you don’t get out of here right now, I swear to god I’m gonna punch you right in the fucking mouth.”

“Look, please, just hear me out.”

Steve lurched towards Henry and swung a looping punch. Steve of old would have surely connected, the current burn ravaged version had neither the balance, nor speed, to ensure the same results. Henry easily sidestepped the punch, Steve’s momentum sending him crashing into the dresser by the door, its edge clipping his eyebrow and opening a small cut as he fell to the floor with a grunt. Melody raced to his side, helping him to a sitting position. Henry stood by the door, eyes glaring as he hissed at them through gritted teeth.