Hazy View: Souls of the Vanished (8 page)

“
I believe Dillon Adams’s
awake.”

“
I’ll page Dr. Scotts.
He’d like to talk to you before you speak to Mr. Adams.” The nurse
said and called over the intercom. “He’ll be with you
shortly.”

Andrew thanked the nurse and walked to
the vending machine and got a packet of skillets. He leaned against
the wall waiting. Nothing happened in the corridors.

Phillip came from the nurses’ station.
“Thanks for coming. I don’t know how long he’ll be awake. He’s
slightly delirious and was mumbling about ghosts. His injuries have
taken a turn for the worse. We’re trying to battle an infection,
probably caused by the water from the lake or the weapon used was
dirty. His fever’s slightly high, but you wanted to speak to him as
soon as he woke up.”

“
Thank you. I won’t be too
long, I promise. I just need to clear up a point or
two.”

“
I wouldn’t like you to
put too much pressure on him.”

“I won’t. Can I go in alone?” Andrew
agreed.

“
Sure. I’ve got rounds to
do.”

Phillip walked away and tapped a chart
against his leg.

Andrew walked into a single room. A
nurse was attending to Dillon, injecting medication into his drip
and reading his temperature and blood pressure.

The room was small. A single bed was
next to a large window fitted with blinds. A TV mounted in the
corner facing the bed. A lone chair stood against a lightly
decorated wall. A table stretched over the bed holding untouched
supper. Mash potatoes, vegetables and a small portion of grilled
chicken. The plate covered with cling wrap collected little
droplets of water on the inside. A side dish of jelly and custard
completed the meal.

Andrew turned to the nurse. “How’s he
doing nurse?”

“
He’s doing
fine.”

Clearly her shift was too long and the
patients difficult. She collected her items and left.

Dillon looked up at Andrew, but it
seemed he didn’t recognize him. Andrew pulled the chair closer and
dumped the empty skillet packet into the bin. For a moment silence
remained between the two men. After a short meaningless
conversation Andrew steered the conversation to the night
before.

Dillon’s face drained color and he
became jittery as fear gripped him. He was about as skinny as his
son. Stubble dotted his boney face.

Dillon spoke in a hoarse, cracking
voice. “It’s difficult to explain. I wish I can tell you the
reason, but I don’t know. Christ, if I don’t know better I’ve
thought my time had come. I’ve thought I had done something
unimaginable.” Dillon started.

“
What happened, I spoke to
Edwin but he didn’t say much, except that a ghost attacked
you.”

“
Six boats left the pier
last night. We were heading for the rock face but soon we’re
separated from the others, something isolated us.” Dillon fell
silent.

Andrew wrote down every word. “Did you
see anything unusual?”

“
No, it was more like
currents that held us back. We tried to catch up to the other
boats, but the harder we rowed the further we fell
behind.”

“
Why didn’t you call out
or shine your flashlights?” Andrew asked.

“
We did. With the rain and
wind I guess they just didn’t hear us. It didn’t take long before
the other boats were too far ahead.”

“
What happened
next?”

“
The first blow came
suddenly and unexpected, knocking the oars out of my hands. The
boat started to rock from side to side. There’s a hard knock under
the boat that caused water to seep through.”

“
Didn’t you see another
boat or something? I mean whoever attacked you had to cross the
water somehow.” Andrew asked confused.

“
Sheriff, no one else was
on the water, it's more someone’s in the water. I’ve never felt as
scared as this before, even more so I might lose my son. I was more
trying to shield him because I couldn’t fight off the
attack.”

“
What happened then, I
mean could you remember a weapon if any?’

“
I’m thrown around like an
old rag and beaten that I can no longer defend myself or my son.
Edwin was screaming and used his oars to defend me. I’m pushed down
into the bottom of the boat hard that I lost consciousness. I don’t
know what happened next. The next thing I knew I woke up here.”
Dillon fell silent again.

“
Do you remember anything
else?”

“
It's so uncalled for. I
did nothing to her. I was under the impression she had left town.
What happened to her?”

Andrew felt frustrated. “Who are you
talking about, the person who attacked you?”

“
Yes, Janet left town
didn’t she?” He asked and looked at Andrew confused.

“
What does this have to do
with Janet? What are you telling me?”

“
Well I think it was Janet. She looked like her, sounded
like her. She has a child the same age as Janet’s, there’s
something different?” Dillon yawned.

“
You think that it's Janet
who attacked you?”

Andrew looked up at Dillon. He seemed
tired but he still recalled the events.

“
Yes.” Dillon admitted
softly.

“
There’s no way Janet
could’ve done this. The last I heard she’s left town, what could’ve
been different?”

“
She was dead. She was so
angry, I mean her ghost was. She kept asking why we did it. Because
we did it, she would take us to the bottom of the lake.”

Andrew whispered. “What makes you so
sure it’s Janet?”

“
I know, or at least knew
Janet well. I’m telling you, something happened to her and her son.
They never left town, they’re in the lake.”

“
What did she accuse you
of doing?”

“
For killing her and her son I suppose.” Dillon fell quiet
and yawned again.

“
It's insane. If they’re
in the lake why did Sheriff Parker think they left town? It
couldn’t be Janet. She spoke to him on the phone this morning. I
heard him saying he’ll be with them shortly.” Andrew
admitted.

“
I’m so sure it's Janet. I
can stake my son’s and my life on it.”

“
Can you tell the sketch
artist with she looked like?” Andrew asked after a moment of
thought.

“
Sure, maybe it’s not
her.” Dillon said and fell asleep, the medication had taken
effect.

Andrew left the hospital confused and
angry. He reached his vehicle and looked around for the first
time.

Birds have settled in the big trees at
the edge of the parking lot. Clouds were heavy and denser. The sun
headed lazily for the horizon and the wind was brisk.

Andrew stopped at his vehicle and
looked around again. The day was gone and he was questioning
everything he knew. He had too many questions that needed answers.
He wasn’t a heavy drinker, hardly touched alcohol, but tonight he
needed to settle his mind. He walked to the pub a short distance
away.

*~*~*

*VIII*

Helen heard a noise that came from
Olivia’s room. Olivia was playing at her feet. It was a muffled
shoveling sound. Someone moved heavy furniture and scattered toys
across the carpeted floor.

She got up fast.

Someone moved fast through the
upstairs passage and darted into the bathroom.

Olivia didn’t react to the noise.
Little footsteps echoed through the silence, a door slammed shut.
Helen moved to the archway between the lounge and the dining
area.

She stopped.

She continued to the front door and
opened it midway. If there was a small quitter upstairs and she
manages to chase it down the stairs, she would want it to leave the
house.

“
Honey, I need you to draw
me the best picture with the most colors you can then I’ll look at
your drawing when I get back just now.”

“
Yes mommy.” Olivia called
back.

Helen noticed the noise had stopped.
Silently she stood at the bottom of the stairs one hand rested on
the rail as she watched the top. The quitter upstairs started
again. It sounded louder than a small creature that had crawled in
through an open window.

Helen walked up slowly. Nervously she
took them step by step, gaining her balance before shifting her
weight. Her back firmly tucked in against the wall. In the bathroom
to her left the sound echoed loudly. A ghostly moan she had heard
on the lake and in her basement slowed her down. Something’s thrown
against the wall, glass shattered and falling pieces clattered
loudly.

Helen glanced through the passage, it
was empty.

She heard a soft thump against a door.
She swung toward the bathroom door ready to yank it open and
stopped.

Her heart pounded, she felt weak and
dumb founded.

The door stood wide open and nothing
seemed damaged or even out of place.

The doors off the passages were wide
open. All the rooms leading into the passage’s covered with a thick
beige carpet that would’ve absorbed any sound from an unexpected
fall or moving of furniture. The bathroom might possibly offer the
sound as the floor and walls were tiles.

Helen heard sounds from Olivia’s room,
something moved fast.

She peeped around the corner. Paper
and crayons laid scattered across the floor. Scattered clothing
from the closet and chest of drawer lay across the carpet. Toys
were out of the old wooden toy box and heaped on the floor. The
closed window was still intact.

She stepped into the room
cautiously.

Someone pulled the bedspread from the
bed and left it near the toys. It looked like someone had sat under
it. The curtains pulled from the railing. The hooks still dangled
on the railing. A dropped pillow fell on the side of the bed.
Strange marking mapped the wall, written with colorful
crayon.

Helen didn’t go further.

The room was neat when she left
moments earlier. Olivia was with her downstairs since her bath. She
could see that nothing was as she left it only moments ago. Someone
has turned the room upside down in a rage fit.

A soft weep echoed from behind
her.

She turned slowly.

A small boy stood in the doorway. He’s
arms stretched out in front of him. His eyes were cold, gray and
urgent. His hair and clothes were wet. A small puddle of water
darkened the carpet at his feet. His skin was the color of ash. He
was still weeping and he had only one shoe on his foot.

He pointed to the marking on the
wall.

The word ‘help’ that marked the wall
seemed written with great difficulties. Helen turned back to the
boy.

He was gone.

Helen rushed into the passage. She saw
nothing.

A loud thump came from her bedroom.
She rushed forward and paused.

The passage grew cold.

Another thump made her
jump.

She inched forward.

Something moved in her
room.

“
Who’s in my house? What
do you want?” She called in a cracking fearful voice.

Helen reached the door as the chill
worsened.

“
Where’s he?” A strong
angry voice called from within the room.

“
I don’t know who you’re
looking for.”

“
Find him and make him
pay.” The voice called screeching and moaning softly.

“
Who must I
find?”

“
Find us, find us
soon.”

The door flung open and something came
out.

A soft weep came from the
passage.

Someone was forcing their way down the
passage.

Someone knocked Helen down and she’s
held as she fell. Fear overwhelmed her as the image of a woman
appeared in front of her.

“
Find him.” She screamed
angrily.

The image faded and finally
disappeared. The atmosphere calmed and returned to its previous
state. Helen remained still too weak to move or think.

*~*~*

*IX*

Ivan and William Craft had traveled
from the city on the first word of a haunting. Finally they reached
the lake and the small boat they had rented earlier. They cast off
before rowing to the middle of the lake, their flashlights lit
their way.

William mounted cameras to the outside
rim so they could capture a three-hundred and eighty degree angle
around the boat. Ivan set up heat-sensors and recorders on the nose
cone to record sudden changes in the temperature and to record
sounds the human ear couldn’t hear.

Rain started to fall. A light drizzle
posed no threat to the waterproof equipment. The brisk wind was
cool, cutting through any light clothing. Ivan cupped his hands and
blew hot air into them before rubbing them vigorously.

After four hours on the lake they felt
the cold. Ivan pulled a flask of hot cocoa from his bag and hugged
it gratefully for its heat. He swept around his head a few times.
He was always aware of bugs and flies around him. His brother
ignored him. Ivan reached into his bag again and produced a large
can of bug spray. He’s spraying started to annoy
William.