Latham's Landing (5 page)

Nikki laughed. “Everyone wants to visit a
haunted house on Halloween, especially a real one.”

“
Police have no sense of humour,” Sam
muttered. “We can’t get caught, kids. If we do, we’re not going to
get off with a warning.”

“
I told you, I can get a boat,” Marie
interjected. “My brother’s got one he’ll loan me. It’s small, but
it has a motor and can fit four. The bigger problem is the currents
around Cairn Isle. We have to be careful—”

“
Cairn Isle?” Nikki laughed again.
“You’ve never called it that before.”

“
That’s what the locals call it,
because of all the deaths,” Marie said defensively. “Carl Isle is
its legal name. But no one calls it that.”

“
What do they call it?” Nikki
asked.

“
Latham’s Landing,” Daryl said with
relish, letting the name roll over his tongue. “It’s going to be
crucial to my paper on the origin of fear for my psychology of mind
class. With luck, I’m hoping to turn it into a
dissertation.”

“
How did you ever hear of it?” Sam
asked. “I never have.”

“
It’s not something the locals
advertise,” Daryl replied. “They’re closemouthed about it, these
farmers, and they don’t like strangers. Even the historical society
that owns the house doesn’t promote it. Their website had almost
nothing—”

“
What did it have?” Sam asked,
interested.

“
Just that a man named Hans Latham got
rich in the ship business, and that he built this home when he
retired.”

“
So why go there?” Sam
persisted.

“
Because it’s a focal point for so much
intense fear,” Daryl explained. “Though the local sites didn’t have
much to say, the haunted house sites had a ton on this place.
Compared to the factories and monasteries those ghost hunters
visit, this is the mother lode in term of attributed
deaths—”

“
Attributed deaths?” Marie said,
arching her brows. “People have died out there. I know one
personally: my cousins’ first girlfriend and her brother. They just
wanted to have a look by boat before joining up with some friends
on the beach to the west. Instead they capsized and
drowned.”

“
I didn’t mean that the fear wasn’t
warranted,” Daryl said, placating. “I’m almost out of money, Marie,
and I’ve got to graduate this spring. I need a thrilling and
controversial paper if I’m going to get a good job offer. I don’t
want to have to go back in the Army for another tour. Latham’s
Landing is also relatively close by, which is good for my limited
funds”

“
I guess we’re not going to stay at the
bed and breakfast,” Nikki interjected.

“
We can’t,” Daryl replied. “We can’t
question any of the locals, or go to the exhibit the bed and
breakfast has, not yet. If we stay there, we’ll arouse
suspicion.”

“
Then what’s the plan?” Sam
said.

Daryl looked at each of them in turn. “First,
we’re going to the island, to take pictures of everything, and
gather some data relative to the deaths I have documentation on.
Marie will get us a boat, and we’ll meet two weeks from now on the
shore of the nature preserve. That’s October twenty-seventh, at
dusk.” He got to his feet. “We can question the locals and do the
dry research later.” Daryl strode out, the others following.

“
So long as there’s no wet research,”
Marie mumbled worriedly, as she hurried after them.

“
She chickened out,” Sam said for the
second time, eyeing his watch. “Or she’s dead in a car
accident.”

“
You’re fun,” Nikki said nastily. “Be
morbid, why don’t you?”

“
She was supposed to be here an hour
ago—”

“
And I would’ve been,” Marie said
loudly, startling them. “But I had to winch the boat by myself onto
the trailer. My jerk brother and his friends never put it on for
me.” She strode into the clearing, then gestured with one hand. “If
you get in the water, I’ll back the trailer down in.”

“
Hurry,” Sam said to Daryl. “We’ve only
got a few minutes until it gets too dark to see clearly without
lights.”

“
I’m a private used to desert work, not
a Marine,” Daryl joked. “Sam may know his way around boats, but
you’re going to have to instruct me, Marie.”

Under Marie’s direction, Sam and Daryl
released the boat from its few trappings, clamped on the motor, and
got the craft into the water.

“
We should wait for morning,” Marie
suggested. “My cousin got killed at dusk. The currents are
dangerous—”

“
We’ve been over this,” Daryl said
sternly. “If we go there in the daytime, someone will see us. We’ve
got to go there at night, and get the boat up on shore and hidden
before daybreak. We’ll sleep the rest of tonight, then do our
research tomorrow during the day. We’ll head back as soon as it
gets dark.”

“
He’s right,” Nikki agreed. “That gives
us the least risk of getting caught. I’m on a scholarship,
remember? I get one infraction, and I’m out.”

“
So am I,” Marie said grumpily. “Dark
will do. Did you get the night vision goggles, then?”

“
Right here,” Daryl said, brandishing
them. “Load up, and let’s get going.”

Quickly, they stowed their gear in the boat,
then began their journey across the black water, the motor loud in
the night’s stillness. Daryl watched through the goggles as Marie
piloted the boat.

“
See any ghosts?” Sam joked.

“
Nothing except your dead sense of
humour,” Daryl replied scathingly.

Closer they edged, ripples from the boat’s
wake lapping the islands shore. Sam jumped out, then pulled them
into the shallows. The rest got out, then together they hefted the
boat and motor, bringing it up on shore.

“
Thank God this is lightweight,” Nikki
puffed.

“
If you’d eat less chips and exercise
more, that wouldn’t be a problem,” Sam teased.

Nikki cast him a dark look, and didn’t
reply.

They set down the boat and motor behind a low
stone wall.

“
Is this granite?” Marie asked, running
her fingers along the stones. “It’s odd colored,
almost—”

“
Red,” Sam answered. “It’s very rare to
find granite so solidly colored. Marbled is much more
common.”

“
Why is that, oh knowledgeable
geologist?” Nikki teased.

“
That’s because it’s drenched in
blood,” Sam said seriously, then let out a howl.

“
Enough,” Nikki said sharply. “Daryl,
what’s the plan here? You said you want pictures of everything, and
I’ve brought my cameras. What are you looking for in
particular?”

“
Scary shots,” Daryl answered, opening
a notebook. “Most places people find scary are at the very ends of
the spectrum, such as claustrophobic or cavernous in size. They’re
very cold or very hot in temperature where you wouldn’t expect it.
Often exits are hidden from plain view, or there are too many doors
to be faced all at once so you have to leave your back to an exit.
Temperature aside, Nikki, shoot anything you can that illustrates
how the layout of Latham’s Landing itself leads to
disquiet—”

“
I just felt a cold draft,” Marie said,
turning to look uneasily at the last fading sunglow.

“
You’re outside on an island at night,”
Nikki said, rolling her eyes. “We’re all feeling a cold breeze.
Come on, let’s get inside.”

The group turned on flashlights, then made
their way to the front door. Surprisingly, the padlock was not
locked.

“
That’s a relief,” Daryl said, taking
it off and pocketing it. “We can say we found it open, if we’re
caught.” He swung wide the door. The stench of dust and disuse rose
from the opening, along with the scent of something rotted and
moldering.

“
Yuck,” Marie said, stepping
back.

“
We’ll light a fire,” San said, walking
in calmly. “Any house closed up for a long time smells like this.
We can bed down in the main room here. This house is old, so it has
to have a fireplace. All we need is to gather some
driftwood.”

An hour later, the group sat before a
cheerily burning fire, eating chips and drinking soda. After making
the fire, they’d spread out their sleeping bags in a semi-circle
around it, placing a few propane lanterns on the floor. Their light
caught the ornate carved shells, cresting waves, and mermaids of
the woodwork, making them gleam and shine through their coating of
dust.

“
You’re right, this place is nice,”
Nikki said, stuffing another wad of chips into her mouth. “That
fireplace is beautiful.”

“
Yeah, but what happened to the
furniture?” Marie mused. “There’s nothing here at all, not one
chair.”

“
Probably sold for taxes,” Daryl said.
“Have you got any ideas for your drawing?”

“
You’re writing a paper, not a book,”
Marie said. “I still don’t see why you need any
drawings.”

“
Because it’s unlikely we’ll capture
any ghosts on film, Marie,” Daryl said with a sigh. “My thesis
advisor was against this idea from the first, telling me he’d read
many papers on the topic and all of them were boring as Hell.” He
made a face. “I’ve got the psychology down pat, but my paper needs
something stimulating to make it soar. I can pull this off if I can
find the images and inspiration to present it. I need this trip to
net me more than some artfully done pictures to go with my dry
facts and figures.”

“
Speaking of netting,” Nikki giggled.
“Sam and I are going to bed. Just ignore any sounds you hear. Come
here, Boy.”

Sam gave a large grin, then joined her in
zipping their sleeping bags together. Moments later came the sound
of kissing, then soft cries of pleasure and shared
anticipation.

“
I thought she had a boyfriend?” Daryl
murmured, casting a look at Marie.

“
She does,” Marie sighed. “But he’s not
here. Love the one you’re with, oh yeah.”

Daryl grimaced, but didn’t reply.

“
I’m glad we blocked the doors,” Marie
said, casting her eyes to the far wall. “You’re right about open
doors causing uneasiness.”

Three doors opened off the room they
occupied. The one they’d come in by, and two more that led deeper
into the house. One lead to a small room with no exits, maybe a
large closet from days gone by. The other led into a hallway. At
its far end was a huge staircase, multiple doors both above and
below it barely visible in the gloom. Without much discussion,
they’d used some rope they’d brought along together with long,
stout pieces of driftwood to secure both inner doors. The outer
door they’d blocked from opening in with a chunk of granite from
outside.

“
Yes,” Daryl said, writing in his
notebook. “Odd the way an unsecured entrance to a sleeping chamber
is almost always a cause for fear. It’s called Closet Door
Syndrome.”

“
I had that in my youth,” Marie said,
cracking a smile. “But I’m surprised you did.”

“
No one is invulnerable to fear,” Daryl
said seriously. “That’s one of the key points of my research. I’m
going to chronicle my own thoughts and reactions as well as yours
while we’re here, so please let me know if anything gives you cause
for fear.”

“
What about the odd noise in the dark?
Is there a name for that?”

“
No,” Daryl said, finally cracking a
smile. “You’d better go to sleep. We’ve got a long day tomorrow,
then the trip back in the dark.” He closed his notebook, then
slipped into his sleeping bag. “The two lovebirds seemed to have
exhausted themselves, but that might not last long.”

“
You’re right,” Marie said, crawling
into her sleeping bag. “Goodnight.”

Nikki awakened them with a scream.

“
What is it?” Marie said sleepily,
rubbing her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“
Footsteps,” Nikki said, clutching Sam.
“Upstairs.”

“
Daryl?” Marie called. “Where are
you?”

“
Right here, of course,” Daryl replied,
sitting up with a yawn. “What’s the problem?”

“
Someone’s upstairs,” Nikki
whispered.

Daryl rolled his eyes. “It’s probably just a
mouse—”

Deliberate footsteps began overhead, each
tread measured and slow. Foreboding rose in the four college kids
below listening as something moved intently overhead.

“
They’re heading for the stairs,” Marie
whispered, eyes wide.

“
What if the door opens?” Nikki
screeched.

“
I secured it,” Sam assured her,
holding her tightly. “Don’t worry, Babe.”

The steps went to the head of the stairs,
then began to descend, each footfall drawing nearer. None of the
group below moved, their breathing shallow and hushed. All at once,
the sounds stopped.

“
God, is it waiting out there?” Marie
said frantically. “What do we do?”

“
Nothing,” Daryl said, grabbing her
hand. “Shh. Be still.”

They waited, the moments ticking by.

“
Is it gone?” Nikki whispered
finally.

“
There wasn’t anyone there,” Sam said
calmly. “It was probably the house settling. Sometimes that can
sound like footsteps.”