Sam: A Novel Of Suspense (17 page)

The
next machine to beep was his heart rate monitor.  It played the rhythmic tune
of a steady pulse.  It, too, was unplugged.

Should
I call someone, or just get the hell away from here?

Tim
was a coward.  He was quite aware of it and even embraced it for the most part. 
Being a coward was just another part of survival.  He avoided danger and kept
himself safe – what was wrong with that?  His brother had always been the
reckless one.

And
look where that got him.  Although, if I was braver like he had been…I could
have done something.

Tim
made a decision.  There was some bad mojo currently targeted at him and he
wasn’t about to sit around and see what happened while his equipment went
haywire.  He needed to find someone else.  It’d be safer with company.

Safer
from
what
exactly, I don’t know.

More
of Tim’s machines began beeping and he took it as his cue to leave.  He stood
up from his seat and hurried down the hall towards the staircase.  The house’s
lights flickered back on briefly as thunder rocked the floor beneath him.

Like
walking through a horror movie,
Tim thought to himself
while trying to keep calm.

As
he reached the downstairs foyer, the lights went off completely.  It was not
yet fully dark outside and there was still some light inside the house,
although it was grey and fading.  From the lounge behind the staircase, Tim
could hear the mellow tones of Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” playing on the
piano.

Seriously,
this house even has a horror movie soundtrack!

He
pushed through the doors to the piano lounge and stepped inside.  He found
Angela sitting at the back of the room, playing the tune quite expertly on the
ivory keys.  “I didn’t know you played,” he said.

She
looked at him and continued playing perfectly.  It was all the more impressive
now that she wasn’t even looking at the notes she was hitting.  “Six years of convent
school.  You learn a few things.”

“You
play beautifully.  Do you know anything a little more upbeat?”

She
laughed.  “Yeah, I think I can play something.”  She broke into a jaunty
rendition of “When I’m Sixty-Four”.

Tim
went behind the bar.  “That’s better.  You fancy a drink?”

“My
liver says no, but my heart says yes.”

Tim
poured her a healthy measure of whisky and then poured himself a much smaller
one.  Tim liked a drink, but he had the constitution of a poodle. Angela would easily
be able to out-drink him.

He
placed her drink on the top of the piano and took a sip of his own.  “Just been
through some more freaky-deaky shenanigans upstairs.”

Angela
stopped playing and looked at him.  “What do you mean?  The power going off
again? Or something else?”

“Oh,
you know, usual stuff: my equipment started turning on despite the fact none of
it was plugged in.  I can’t help thinking that this place is building up to
something.”

“Please,
don’t
you
start wigging out on me.  So far you’ve been the only one to
keep a clear head.”

Tim
took another sip of whisky.  The liquid burned his throat.  “I can take
strange, I can even take frightening, but what I can’t take is
dangerous.
 
It’s just not my thing.”

“You’ve
had my back.  I promise to have yours if anything happens.”

“Thanks,
but all the same, I figure I’ll be off in the morning.  This whole thing is
getting a little too far out of my comfort zone.”

“I
wish you wouldn’t leave,” Angela told him.  “I plan on seeing this through, but
it’s your decision at the end of the day.”

“I
just think, with what happened to Jessica, it would be better to get a team of
doctors in here rather than a guy like me.”

Angela
stood up from the piano and closed the lid.  She picked up her drink and walked
over to one of the tables.  Sitting down, she looked at him seriously.  “What
do you think happened to her anyway?  Spontaneous blindness?”

“I’ve
never heard of such a thing, but again that’s why I think a doctor should be
here.”

“Frank
should reach the hospital soon.  We’ll know more then.  Perhaps you should postpone
your decision till then.”

“Maybe,”
Tim said.  “But perhaps the whole thing is just to get Frank out of the way.”

Angela
looked at him like he was mad.  “I don’t understand.”

Tim
shrugged.  “I’m just saying that the last man of the house is dead.  Frank
seems to be trying to fill Joseph Raymeady’s shoes.  Now, with Frank gone,
everyone is left to do their own thing.  I think we were safer when he was here,
but right now he’s gone and Jessica’s passed out in bed.  What are we even
doing here anymore?”

“Trying
to help,” was Angela’s answer, but she couldn’t help but laugh pitifully. 
“Whatever that means.  Maybe when Frank gets back, he’ll make things a little
clearer on what we should do next.”

“If
he even comes back.”

“Will
you just stop?” said Angela.  “You’re such a pessimist.”

“Hey,
after a couple days in this house, I’ve learned that expecting the worst to
happen is usually the way to go.”

Angela
finished off her drink and went to get another.  “We’ll see,” she said.  “Let’s
just relax for now, though.  I don’t plan on leaving this room while Graham is
in charge.  I can’t believe I actually miss Frank.”

“Yeah,”
Tim agreed.  “Me either.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Frank
kept his foot on the gas pedal despite the wetness of the road.  The rain fell
in thick sheets and it was impossible to see more than a dozen metres, but
Frank couldn’t afford to slow down.  Jessica needed him.  Whatever virus could
send a person blind overnight was serious – it could be meningitis or some
other malady affecting the brain.  For all he knew, she could be dying right
now.

Frank
had to brake sharply as a bend came out of nowhere.  The tyres slipped sideways
on the wet surface, but he was able to get the car back under control easily
enough.  He’d driven in worse condition, Afghanistan for one.  Once he’d driven
a 3-tonne truck through a sandstorm so thick he couldn’t see beyond the
windscreen.  He’d survived that and he would survive this.

The
A429 was coming up on his right and Frank slowed down and took it.  The highway
would take him to Warwick Hospital.  He had no plan for when he got there, too
desperate to form one, but at the very least he could get an ambulance to
follow him back.

The
road was lit, but the thick rain obscured the illumination of the street lamps.
Frank had no choice but to take ten miles off his speed. Acres of farmland would
be flying by on either side of him, but in the stormy darkness, he might just
have well been driving through space. He leant forward in the driver’s seat,
trying to get as close to the road as possible.

“What
are you doing, Frank?  Why aren’t you at the house looking after my family?”

Frank’s
whole body tensed up as he heard the sound of Joseph Raymeady’s voice.  He
looked up at the rear view mirror and saw his boss’ face staring back at him. 
The next thing he knew the car was spinning.

He
lost control of the wheel as it fought against his grip.  The tyres slid across
the wet tarmac and the car spun a full circle.

Then
it flipped.

Suddenly
Frank found himself upside down, moving through the air briefly before sliding
along the road and into a ditch.  His vision filled with stars – exploding
grenades of light.

“Now
that was careless,” said Joseph.  “What am I even paying you for?”

Rain
water pooled around Frank’s head as he blinked away his dizziness.  Once again
he saw Joseph Raymeady’s face in the now-cracked rear view mirror.

“What-what
do you want?” Frank managed to ask.

“I
just want to make sure that you’re doing your job, Frank.  How is my family?”

Frank
struggled with his seatbelt, trying to get himself free of the wreck.

Joseph’s
voice rose.  “I asked you a question, Frank.  How is my fucking family?”

“They’re…they’re
okay.”

“YOU’RE
LYING!”

“No,”
said Frank.  “I will keep them safe.  They will be okay.”

“Then
why aren’t you with them now?”

“Because
Jessica needs a doctor.”

“A
doctor?  A DOCTOR!  What have you done, Frank?  Why does my darling, sweet
Jessica need a doctor?”

Frank
made eye-contact with Joseph through the mirror.  What he was seeing was
impossible.  His employer was dead.  Frank had been the one to find the body. 
“You’re not real.  I’ve had an accident and you’re just a delusion.”

“
You’re
the delusion, Frank.  You think you can take my place?  I was a great man; a
man of principals.  You are nothing.  A killer of men and children.  You
deserve to be dead, not me.  Your job was to protect me and my family.  You let
me die.”

Frank
squirmed, wanting more than anything to get out of the upturned Mercedes.  “No,
no.  You let yourself die.  You took your own life.”

The
apparition of Joseph began to laugh.  The sound was malicious and mocking. 
“Did I?”

Frank
didn’t know what that meant, but seeing as the whole thing had to be a figment
of his imagination, he decided it meant nothing.  Joseph wasn’t really in the
car with him.  It was temporary madness.  “Go away, Joseph.  You’re dead.”

“Yes,”
Joseph replied.  “And very soon, you will be too.  We’re all here waiting for
you, Frank.  Me and all the people you killed in Afghanistan, Sierra Leone, the
Gulf…so many, Frank.  So much death by your hands.  And now you want to add my
little Sammie and Jessica to your list of murders. ”

“Nooooo!”

Some
part of the car ignited.  Frank could not see flames because his neck was
jammed up against the car’s roof, but he could smell the burning and hear the
distinctive crackling.  The car was on fire, and if he didn’t escape, he would
burn to death. 

But
as much as he tried, Frank could not get himself free.

“We’ll
be waiting for you, Frank” said the apparition of Joseph Raymeady, who then
started cackling so loud that Frank could no longer hear the fire or the rain.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The
houselights were still out, and now that evening had arrived, total darkness
had descended upon every room.  Luckily, Graham had broken character and made a
helpful gesture of distributing candles throughout the building.  Each room was
partially lit by at least one.

Angela
sat with Tim in the house’s rear gardens. They were sheltered from the rain
beneath a large camisole. A lit candle flickered on a small, round table
between them.  There was something about being outside that made Angela feel
safer than being inside.  With the heavy rain and the approaching storm, she
could feel God’s influence everywhere.  Inside the house she felt something….
different.

“You
think we should have heard from Frank by now?” Tim asked her.

“I
think the phones are still out.”

Tim
shook his head.  “No, I mean, shouldn’t he gotten back by now?  He’s been gone
a few hours.”

“I
don’t know how far the hospital is.  I’m not from around here.  I’ll bet this
rain is also slowing him down.”

“Yeah,
it’s really going for it tonight, isn’t it?  Why exactly are we sat outside
again?”

“Helps
me think,” Angela answered.  “I like the weather being like this.  Makes me
feel…connected.”

“To
God?”

“Yeah,
I guess, but it’s more than that.  It makes me feel connected to life. 
Everything begins and ends with the rain.  Without it nothing could live.”

Tim
looked confused.  “I just think it makes everything wet.  Has it helped you
think any clearer?”

“Yes
it has.”  Angela stole a glance at the candle flame and its healthy glow made
her think about Hell and the demons that sprawled throughout its infernal
hallways.  “After all that’s happened, I’m now convinced that there’s something
inside Sammie.  The drawing he gave me, the things he knows, and what happened
to Jessica.  There’s Evil at work here for sure.”

“I
guess I’m starting to agree with that as well,” Tim admitted to her.  “My
unplugged machines wigging out was the final proof I needed.”

Angela
ran a hand through her hair and released a few knots.  “So, my question is:
what
is inside Sammie?
  If there’s a demon inside the boy, then why didn’t it
respond to my attempts to banish it?  Why did the exorcism fail?”

Tim
looked at her.  “Is it an exact science usually?  I mean, is there no way for a
demon to resist attempts to exorcise it?”

“I
don’t know.  Demons often try to mess with your mind, to prevent you from even
going through with the procedure, but Sammie was happy to let me speak freely. 
At the end it was pretty obvious that he found the whole thing funny.  A demon
should quake at the sound of Christ’s name.  They should cower at the power of
the Lord.”