Night Terror (30 page)

53

AS AUDREY INCHED
toward the door, her entire body stiff as a board and sheened in cold sweat, she noticed that the ceiling and walls of the small anteroom were all covered in dull gray sheets, nailed in place.

Lead.

This room was not the one in Audrey’s memory. For one thing, a heavy metal desk stood to one side of the door and an old wooden chair on castors sat beside it. The room in her memory was empty. But the secret entrance and the sense of being buried were so suggestive of that traumatic night long ago, that she could barely separate her past from her present. There was no little girl crying in the darkness ahead, but she could still hear Zach inside her mind, pleading with her to hurry. She twisted the knob, hating the feel of the icy metal against her palm, opening the heavy door ever so slowly, ready to leap out at whoever might be on the other side, but there was no one there. Instead a long, sloping corridor confronted her and she gasped.

Like the corridor in my mind. Like the white doors.

But the more she stared at the corridor, the less the two seemed alike. This hallway was strangely constructed, with an undulating floor and heavy, painted block walls in place of the redbrick in her memory. And these doors were all on one side of the hallway. All except for the one door to her right.

She didn’t see any lead shielding in the hall, but the paneling on the ceiling overhead was damp with condensation. A single metal conduit ran the length of the hallway and every few yards an exposed bulb lighted the way.

She sensed Zach so close she could almost smell him. She stared at the first door to her left and she
knew
he was in that room. She’d found him at last. She began to shake and she had to stop for a moment to catch her breath. The walls closed in around her and her vision seemed off, fuzzy. The terror that gripped her was so strong she wanted to turn and run from the place, just as she had in her youth. She listened intently for the hideous sound of laughter like darkness.

She reached the door and stood there for a moment, trying to erase the corridor in her memory which kept superimposing itself over the real corridor she was in. She grasped the handle of the door in front of her—praying it was real—and jerked it wide.

The woman clutching Zach had Tara’s face, but her hair was completely white and her features were worn and weathered like old stone. Her eyes shone with the light of madness as she crouched in the far corner like a wounded animal, her gnarled hands wrapped tightly around Zach’s chest, holding the boy so close against her withered breast that he could not escape to run to Audrey.

Mother.

Audrey froze in the doorway, staring at her mother’s Nikes peeking out beneath a worn cotton dress, the wild look on her face resonating in her animal stance, her flitting eyes. But there was no hatred in them, none of the rage that Audrey had remembered, and the hands caressed Zach lovingly, not like the hands of some deadly madwoman. She looked more the way Audrey pictured herself, a woman who had lost everything, clinging to one last ray of hope before going completely over to the other side, into the bottomless pit of insanity.

Suddenly Audrey could feel her memories falling into place like tumblers in a lock, as door after door flew open in her mind. She collapsed against the wall for support as the foundations of her shattered memory fell apart. It wasn’t Mother that had tortured Paula. It was Tara.

It was Tara’s basement Audrey had been in. Not the basement of her mother’s house. It was Tara on the floor, wrestling with Paula. Over a period of time, Tara had taken both her brother and sister from Audrey’s mother. It was Tara who tortured and killed them. And it was Tara who superimposed Audrey’s mother’s face over her own in Audrey’s memory. Tara hadn’t only
buried
memories. She had distorted them! Created new ones!

“I’m here, baby!” gasped Audrey, stumbling across the floor toward the two of them, never taking her eyes off her mother’s hands, lest she was wrong and they shoot up toward Zach’s throat.

“All my babies,” said her mother, staring past Audrey, out into the corridor. “She took all my babies.”

Audrey staggered as more memories hit her.

It had always been Tara. It was Tara who strapped Paula to the machine in her lab and then she turned the dials on the machine. And Paula’s cries became animal wails of terror and pain so loud Audrey had careened wildly backward, away down the corridor. It was Tara she’d heard laughing, following the sound of Audrey’s telltale running footsteps down that long dark tunnel.

It was Tara all along.

Audrey dropped onto her knees beside Zach and wrapped her arms around him, still staring into her mother’s eyes, trying to make contact. Zach pulled free of her mother’s embrace and buried himself in Audrey’s arms, quivering.

“You’re safe now, sweetheart,” she said, hugging him tightly.

He shook against her. They both sobbed together, clinging tightly, tears running down their cheeks.

“Mommy!” he managed, tucking his head against her breast.

She reveled in the feel of him, the clean soapy smell of his hair, his skin, his solid healthy weight against her. She was never going to let him go again. Never.

Martha brushed against her and Audrey smelled her as well. She smelled like the past. But it was a sweet past. Jasmine and dust.

“You can’t stay here,” said Martha, as Audrey glanced up into the dry old eyes that were as sad as death.

Zach nodded. “She’s coming,” he whispered in Audrey’s ear.

The words chilled Audrey to the bone, because at that instant, for the first time, she sensed it too. It felt like a million venomous insects crawling up her legs, her back, inside her clothes where she couldn’t reach them. Her entire body was sending out a warning.

Tara
was
coming.

“All my babies. All my babies,” muttered Audrey’s mother.

“She didn’t get me, Mother,” Audrey whispered. “She didn’t get Zach.”

“Not yet,” said her mother, still staring toward the door.

But it was Richard, not Tara, who stepped into the room.

“Honey!” said Audrey. “Zach’s alive! He’s—”

Tara strode into the room behind Richard. Audrey’s eyes were drawn instantly to the pistol in her hand.

“Tara,” said Audrey, swallowing a large lump in her throat. “What are you doing here?” But of course she knew. Tara had come for Zach. Just as she had come for Craig. And Paula. And finally for her. But she wasn’t getting Zach. Not even over her dead body. Audrey clutched him so close against her he shoved her, trying to breathe.

“So he is alive,” said Tara, staring at Zach.

She reached into her pocket and removed something small. There was a metallic clicking noise and her lips moved but Audrey didn’t hear her. Instead she felt a sudden dullness within, as though she had taken an entire bottle of Halcion. It was a strange, familiar sensation and a tiny voice within her rebelled. She knew this place. It was where she went when she was under the force of hypnotic suggestion. She had brought herself here often enough, and because of that she realized that she had it within her power to leave. She imagined herself trudging out of some narrow opening inside her mind and back into the light. When her eyes focused once more, she found herself staring directly into Tara’s bewildered face.

“Exit!” said Tara, snapping the clicker again.

This time the sensation was far briefer for Audrey, just a momentary sluggishness, and she realized immediately what had happened. Tara had implanted a word and a sound into
her subconscious that would put her under, but her recent work with Doctor Cates, and her own practice with self-hypnosis and opening the doors in her mind had freed her of the word’s power.

“No,” she said, shaking it off. “I know what you did. But you’re not going to hypnotize me again. Why? Why did you murder Paula and Craig?”

“I didn’t murder anyone,” said Tara. “Paula and Craig were telepathic. I wanted to help them discover the limits of their abilities. To stretch those limits. I wanted to make them gods.”

“You killed them.”

“They died as a result of the experiments.”

“How many people died as results of your experiments?”

Tara didn’t answer.

“Did any survive?”

“A few.”

“All my babies,” cried her mother, dragging herself out from behind Zach.

Tara’s eyes widened and when she laughed the sound chilled Audrey. Why had she never realized the laughter in her head was Tara’s? Had Tara made her forget that too? Audrey noticed that Richard was watching Tara over his shoulder, tensing. But the pistol was aimed right at his back.

“I spotted Richard’s Camry in the drive and I knew I’d find Martha here when I saw Coonts outside,” said Tara, glaring at Audrey’s mother. “What he saw in you I’ll never know. He’s dead, by the way.”

A low moan escaped Martha’s lips. “All of them,” she muttered darkly. “I’d wake up and another of my babies would be gone and I wouldn’t even remember it for days, months. She killed your father, Audrey.”

Audrey gasped.

“I tried to make you forget altogether, Martha,” said Tara. “I’m better at it now, but still the mother-child bond is incredibly strong. I believe that must be what finally broke through the barriers I installed for you too, Audrey.”

“You took all of them,” muttered Martha. “But you won’t murder Zach. You won’t murder Audrey.”

Martha stumbled forward. She looked stunned, her eyes
barely focused on Tara. Tara shot her at point-blank range. Audrey screamed as the old woman crumpled to the floor, and Tara swung the pistol around quickly to point at Richard before he could move. But he turned slowly to face her anyway, daring her to fire. “Get over beside Audrey,” she said.

“No,” said Richard. “Why don’t you just shoot me now?”

“Adler!” said Tara, nodding toward Richard.

The dog growled, bared his teeth, and took a menacing step forward. Between the pistol and the dog, Audrey could see that Richard didn’t stand a chance.

“Don’t!” said Audrey, knowing that Richard was about to attack Tara anyway. He turned toward Audrey and when she shook her head he reluctantly did as he was told, but after that his eyes never left the gun.

Tara glanced around the room and then at Audrey, shaking her head. “She probably came and got Zach the instant she and her boyfriend had constructed this place.” She laughed and Audrey recoiled again at the dark, too-well-remembered sound of it. “She lined the walls with lead. As though that would stop psi. My sister had this mad idea that if she could hide the children behind lead-lined walls I wouldn’t find them. But I didn’t find them because they
had
talent. I came to get them because I
assumed
they did. I told her that often enough. But her memory was shot. You’re lucky you didn’t all die of lead poisoning. Luckily she had the sense to panel over most of it.”

“Why did you assume the kids had psi talent?” asked Audrey.

Tara studied her face. “Of course, you wouldn’t remember. I’d ask Martha to show you, but now she can’t.”

“Show me what?”

“Your mother was a gifted clairvoyant. That’s how she made a living. Reading people’s fortunes.” She said it scornfully, as though not only Martha’s profession but
she
herself were beneath contempt.

“And she knew you were going to come for them,” whispered Audrey, nodding to herself, slipping closer to Richard, drawing Zach along. “So as each child grew older, she locked them in the basement.”

“Not much of a basement back then, nothing quite as elaborate as this.” She waved her free hand around the room. “One little cell with lead shielding. And she’d have spells all the time, thinking I was coming. I think she made you kids sleep down there whenever she was having one of them.”

“It was your basement where they died,” whispered Audrey.

Tara’s frown became more menacing.

“You murdered Paula and Craig with your machine!” screamed Audrey, the memories flooding her mind. The mask—the hideous metal monstrosity—wasn’t in her mother’s basement. It was in Tara’s. It had always lurked in Tara’s.

“Stop saying that! It was an experiment that was necessary for the good of mankind. It wasn’t just them. I worked on as many subjects as I could find.”

Audrey shook her head. “But that doesn’t make sense. Why didn’t you do it to me? Why didn’t you kill me?”

“It was science!” screamed Tara. “I didn’t try to enhance your talents because you never exhibited any. I’m sorry, Audrey. I never meant for you to stumble onto the experiments the way you did. I did everything in my power to protect you, to erase the memories, but I suppose sooner or later you were going to remember, and I can’t have you babbling. My work is more important than any one person, no matter how much I love you.”

“Love me?”

“I raised you.”

“You wrecked my mind. You murdered my sister and brother and my mother. You came here to kill me.”

“No. That’s not true. I’m sorry this had to happen. But I can’t leave any loose ends. Everyone who knows about my experiments has to be eliminated.” She pointed the pistol at Richard and pulled the trigger just as he made a move toward her. The shot drove him back against the wall and he slumped to the floor, staring in disbelief at the hole in the left side of his chest. His feet splayed and his hands fluttered toward the bloody wound, shaking against his shirt like a fish flopping on a beach. Audrey screamed, releasing Zach and dropping to Richard’s side, just as Tara aimed the pistol at her.