The Third Horror (3 page)

Strong hands grabbed Kody by the shoulders and pulled her back. "Whoa!" Bo called. "Whoa! Easy now! Whoa!"

Rob stepped in front of Persia, blocking her from Kody.

Bo pulled Kody into the shade of the trailer. Her chest heaving, gasping for breath, she pressed her back against the metal wall.

Bo moved toward Persia, bewildered. "What was that about?" he demanded softly.

Bo always stays calm, Kody realized, trying to slow her racing heart. The angrier he gets, the quieter he speaks.

"Just getting in the mood," Persia replied, pushing

damp strands of crimped black hair off her forehead. "I mean, I'm trying to get the feelings right."

"Huh?" Rob gaped at her in disbelief. "You mean—?"

Bo shook his head, frowning at Persia.

"Kody and I are very competitive sisters, right?" Persia said, straightening the bottom of her tank top. "We don't get along. So I'm just trying to get into character. I'm just trying to get my angry juices flowing. You know. Get into the competitive spirit."

"But, Persia—" Kody protested.

Persia opened her eyes wide as she turned to Kody. "Hey, you didn't think I was really angry—did you? You knew I was acting, right?"

Persia didn't give Kody a chance to reply. "If you couldn't tell I was acting, you really are in bad shape!" she declared.

Persia is doing everything she can to make me look bad in front of Bo, Kody realized.

Bo rubbed his chin, his eyes on Persia. "I appreciate your dedication," he said dryly. "But it's a little late for rehearsing, don't you think?"

"Whatever," Persia muttered. "Ciao, everyone." She waved, flashing Kody a triumphant smile. Then she turned and made her way quickly to the white stretch limo waiting for her at the end of the line of trailers.

"I don't believe her!" Kody declared, starting to feel a little more normal.

"Save your anger," Bo told her. "Remember how you feel right now. Save it for when we shoot. You'll need it." Shaking his head, he hurried up the lawn to talk to the sound crew.

"You okay?" Rob asked, his expression concerned.

"Yeah. I guess," Kody replied shakily. "Persia really thinks she can get away with anything—doesn't she!"

"She probably can," Rob replied seriously. "Ready to go to your hotel?" He pointed to the black car waiting across the street.

"Know what? I'm going to cool out in my trailer for a while," Kody replied. "Just till I catch my breath. Send the car back for me—okay?"

She could see disappointment on Rob's face.

I think he likes me, Kody thought. The idea pleased her.

But then she told herself: Rob seems to like everyone. He's a really friendly, warm, outgoing guy.

Don't start getting ideas, Kody, she scolded herself. Rob grew up in Beverly Hills. He's been around movie and TV stars his whole life.

Why would he be interested in me?

But then, to her complete surprise, he leaned forward, wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and kissed her.

A long kiss. A hungry kiss.

Kody felt so startled, she just stood there at first. But then she eagerly returned the kiss, moving her mouth over his.

He turned away quickly, ending the kiss, and started toward the car with long, loping strides. "I'll be in my room later," he called back to her. "If you want to call me."

She watched him climb into the backseat of the car. He gave her a quick wave as the driver pulled away.

Kody shut her eyes. She could still taste Rob's lips on hers.

Does he really like me? she wondered.

Or was he just acting? Like Persia. Trying to get into character.

He's just an actor. They're all actors.

She realized she wasn't thinking clearly. It had been such an upsetting, exciting, horrifying day—a day of one emotion piling on top of another.

She climbed the three low steps and pushed open the door to her trailer. The sun had lowered behind the trees. She stepped into the darkness, pulled the door shut behind her, and made her way blindly to the low couch against the wall.

Darkness. Cool, quiet darkness, she thought.

She lay down and stretched out on the unfamiliar couch. The leather felt cool against her skin. The air inside the trailer smelled stale. She lowered an arm over her eyes, seeking complete darkness.

I probably should have gone back to the hotel, she thought. But I need a few minutes alone. A few minutes to catch my breath. To think.

She pictured Persia. Persia's taunting eyes. Persia's cruel smile.

How am I going to deal with her? How? Kody wondered.

I can't ignore her. We'll be working together for weeks and weeks. We have so many scenes together.

I can't try to compete with her. There's no way I can be as sarcastic and cutting. And I don't want to be.

I can't compete with her. But can I get along with her?

With these troubled thoughts floating through her mind, Kody drifted into a troubled sleep.

A knock on the door startled her awake.

At first, staring into blackness, she had no idea where she was. The coolness of the leather couch under her hands reminded her.

When did I fall asleep? she wondered. How long have I been sleeping?

Her T-shirt clung to her back. Her throat felt dry and sore.

She reached out, struggling to find the lamp switch. But she lowered her hand when she heard the knocks.

Three short, soft knocks.

Tap tap tap.

A pause. Then three more.

Tap tap tap.

"No!" she cried in a choked whisper.

The soft tapping on the trailer door sent chills down her back.

She jumped to her feet.

I remember those knocks.

Yes, I remember them. The soft knocks of a ghost.

Standing stiffly in the darkness of the narrow trailer, Kody froze.

Tap tap tap.

The same sounds Kody had tapped on Cally's bedroom door.

Two years ago. Kody had pretended to be a ghost. Late at night she had knocked softly hke that on her sister's door.

Three soft taps, then three more.

But now Cally was dead. And Kody was standing frozen in a strange, dark trailer, her neck tingling with fear, her skin cold, her heart thudding, listening— listening to the same soft taps.

Remembering.

Listening.

*'Cally—is that you?"

Tap tap tap.

Kody dove for the door. Pushed it open with both hands.

And peered out.

No one there.

Kody stared out at the front yard of her old house.

No one. The workers had all left.

"Cally—were you here?" Kody whispered. "Did you knock on my door?"

Silence.

Somewhere down the block a baby was crying.

Kody saw a yellow beam of light darting near the house. The light from a flashlight carried by one of the night security guards. The beam played over the shrubs against the front wall, then disappeared around the side of the house.

Without realizing it, Kody stepped out and wandered onto the grass. She stared up at the house, looming black against the purple evening sky.

The two upstairs windows seemed to stare down at her like eyes—cold, unfeeling eyes. That was my bedroom, she remembered. And Cally's was down the hall.

Kody swallowed hard. She missed her sister so much.

She moved closer, drawn to the house.

Drawn back to her memories.

Wet grass clung to her sneakers. A heavy dew had fallen.

Somewhere down the block the baby continued to cry. Short, shrill howls.

Kody stepped over cables and around metal cases of equipment and made her way to the window beside the front door.

Here I am, standing on this spot again.

Staring into this house. Into this dark living room.

A dim light in back.

She blinked. Once. Twice.

Is it just my imagination? My eyes playing tricks on me?

No. Pale light filtered into the hallway, casting long shadows over the carpet.

Someone left the kitchen light on, Kody realized. Maybe they're still working in there. Maybe they're still cleaning up.

Once again she pictured Sam McCarthy holding his hand up. The blood spurting over his arm. The lifeless, mangled fingers.

Are they working in the kitchen?

Or, Cally, is it you?

Cally. Cally. Cally.

Cally, you're the real reason I came back, Kody thought, moving to the front door.

Pushing the door open. Stepping into the narrow entryway.

Cally, I promised I'd come back to find you. I saw you the day we left, watching so sadly from the window. I saw you, Cally.

And now I've come back to keep my promise.

Are you here, Cally? Is that your light in the kitchen?

Have you been in this house these past two years, waiting, waiting for me?

Crazy thoughts, Kody knew. Such crazy, frightening thoughts.

But here she was. Walking silently through the back hallway. Toward the light. The pale light from the kitchen.

And now, here she was in the kitchen doorway.

Staring at the figure bent over the sink.

Staring at her in shock.

Covering her mouth to keep from crying out.

Kody sank back into the shadows. She didn't want to be seen.

Is that really Mrs. Nordstrom? she asked herself.

Is that really our old housekeeper scrubbing the sink?

Staying close to the wall, Kody leaned warily into the kitchen. The old woman had her back to Kody as she bent over the sink, scrubbing vigorously. But Kody recognized her.

What is she doing in this house after everyone has left? Does she still come here every day? Does she still work here?

"Mrs. Nordstrom!" Kody called out, hurrying across the kitchen.

The old housekeeper turned from the sink, her mouth open in surprise. She squinted across the room. "Cally—is that you?"

Kody stopped in the center of the room. "No, it's Kody. I'm Kody."

Mrs. Nordstrom wiped her hands on a dish towel. Her hands still dripping, she moved forward and wrapped Kody in a quick, wet hug. "What a surprise, child. It's been so long! How is your family?"

"Okay," Kody replied. "I mean, better. They're living in Los Angeles. They—well—you know, Mrs. Nordstrom."

The old woman tsk-tsked. "So much sadness," she murmured. "The family that moved in after you. So much sadness for them too. The boy was about your age. Brandt. He died too." She shook her head. "So sad."

Kody shuddered. "You look exactly the same, Mrs. Nordstrom. I guess I'd better let you get back to work."

"I'm scrubbing the blood," Mrs. Nordstrom replied sadly. "It's so hard to scrub up." She turned back to the sink. "Come see me again—okay, child?"

"Okay," Kody replied softly. She backed away, watching the housekeeper, who hummed to herself as she scrubbed at the dark bloodstains in the sink.

Kody backed into the comforting darkness of the hallway. Then turned into the living room. Stepping over the electrical cables, she waited for her eyes to adjust.

The furniture was all strange. All new. The set designers had brought all the furniture from Los Angeles.

Kody made her way into the room, running her hand over the low crushed-velvet couch, stepping around an ottoman.

"Cally—are you here?" The whispered words slipped from her mouth as her eyes scanned the dark room. "Cally? It's me. I've come back for you."

She stood stiffly in the center of the room and waited.

For what?

A whispered reply? A laugh? A cold gust of wind that would tell her that her sister was there with her?

"Cally? I know you can hear me," Kody said, raising her voice, keeping it low and steady. "I know you're still in this house, Cally."

And then she did feel her.

Kody gasped as the feeling swept over her. Just a chill at first. A cold shudder.

A heavy presence in the room.

"You are here! I can tell!" she whispered excitedly, feeling her heart pound.

The presence came closer. The feeling grew stronger.

"I can feel you, Cally!" Kody cried. "I know you're here with me. I—I just know!"

The blood pulsed at Kody's temples. The whistling in her ears grew louder as she strained to listen, to

hear a signal, a whisper, a sigh, that would reveal

Cally's presence. "Cally—you're here. I know you're here." Before she could turn around, the ghostly hand of her sister slipped over Kody's shoulder and began to

tighten around it.

"Cally?"

Kody turned as the hand loosened its grip.

And stared into a blinding light.

It was not her dead sister who had grabbed her.

"What are you doing in here, miss? How did you get in?" The security guard, a stern-looking middle-aged man with a face pushed in like a bulldog's frowned at her suspiciously. He shone his flashlight at her, a harsh spotlight.

"I—I— The door was open," Kody stammered. She raised both hands to shield her eyes from the bright light.

"But why are you here?" the guard demanded impatiently.

"I just came in," Kody blurted out. "I mean, I used to live here, and—I'm in the movie—and—"

*'You're the sister!" the guard exclaimed excitedly. He lowered the light. "You're the sister, right? I read all about you. A long article. In People magazine."

"Yeah. I'm the sister," Kody replied weakly. She had been so certain that Cally was near. She had felt the energy. So much energy in the air, in the room— everywhere.

But now it was gone. Kody suddenly was drained. Weary.

"Everyone's left, miss," the guard told her. "There's just the cleaning woman here."

"I should go too," Kody said, turning toward the doorway. "Sorry if I frightened you."

"That's okay," the guard said, rubbing his pug nose with the end of the flashlight. "At least you weren't a burglar. Or a looter. If you were, I'd have had to shoot you!" He let out a strange, almost silent laugh.

"Well, good night," Kody said, eager to get away.

She was nearly to the front door when the guard called for her to stop. "Just one more thing, miss," he said, hurrying across the room to her.

"Yes?"

"Could I have your autograph?" he asked shyly. And then he added, "It's for my nephew."

"I want to try the zoom close-up first," Kody heard Bo telling the assistant director. Kody hurried across the back lawn, feeling nervous and excited and eager to get started.

She had spent nearly an hour with the makeup girl. Her hair felt heavy from all the hair spray. And the powdery makeup was already making her face itch.

Waving to Rob, who stood beside Bo, Kody made her way through the dozens of crew members. They were scurrying around, making sure everything was ready for the morning's shoot.

It was a little before seven. An orange sun was still low in the brightening sky. The early morning air carried a chill.

"I'm ready!" Kody called breathlessly to Bo.

He didn't hear her. He was busy talking to Ken, the technical director, gesturing with his clipboard, clapping Ken on the back with his free hand.

"Are you nervous?" Rob asked, stepping up close to Kody, so close she could smell his aftershave. He wore a white polo shirt and straight-legged black denim jeans.

"You're wearing more makeup than me!" Kody blurted out.

Rob laughed. "That's showbiz!"

"I hate it that you're better looking than me!" Kody exclaimed.

She immediately regretted saying that. Rob seemed genuinely embarrassed.

She forced a laugh. "Sorry. I guess I am a little nervous. I don't know what I'm saying."

He squeezed her hand gently. His hand was warm, hers cold and wet. "You'll do fine. We're just doing reaction shots," he told her. "You don't have to say a single line today."

"Stand back. I want to test the boom camera." Bo gently ushered Kody and Rob out of the way. "Hey, you look great, Kody. Feel okay?"

He hurried back to tell Ken something before Kody could answer.

Kody turned back to Rob. "Why is the camera up so high?"

"Bo wants to do some zoom-in horror shots," Rob explained, brushing a fly off his shirt. "You know. They do them in every horror movie. You scream your head oflf, and the camera comes zooming down on your face."

"So the camera comes sliding down that pole?" Kody asked, staring up at it.

"Yeah. The pole is called a boom," Rob told her.

She grinned at him. "You know everything, huh?" she teased.

"I know enough," he replied, smiling back at her.

She thought he might lean over and kiss her right there, right in front of everyone.

But Bo interrupted, bursting between them. "Where's Persia?" he demanded of no one in particular. He scribbled on his notepad. "Have you seen Persia? She's up first."

"I saw her limo arrive," Rob said.

"So where is she?" Bo asked, searching the backyard.

"Still in Makeup," a crew member yelled.

"Is there a standin?" Bo demanded impatiently. "I want to test the camera."

Kody saw a girl in a sleeveless blue T-shirt and

bright blue Lycra bicycle shorts step forward. She was the same size as Persia, with short brown hair and a tense, no-nonsense expression.

"Are you doing lighting? Should I put on my wig?*' she asked Bo.

"No. Just positioning," Bo told her. "What's your name, hon?"

"Joanna," she replied, moving up beside Bo.

"Aren't you cold in that outfit?" he asked.

Joanna nodded. "I thought it would be warmer. But there's not much sun back here. It's so dark."

Bo put his hands on her shoulders and guided her into position under the boom. "Don't move. That's perfect. Turn to the camera."

"Do you want me to scream or anything?" Joanna asked.

Bo had turned to say something to the camera operator, a lanky young man with long straight black hair and a black mustache.

Joanna crossed her arms over her chest and waited.

"No. Just stand," Bo told her, his eyes on the papers on his clipboard. "We'll let Persia do the screaming— if she ever gets out of Makeup."

Rob leaned close to Kody and whispered, "I can't believe Persia is late the first day."

"I believe it," Kody replied dryly.

They took a few steps back as crew members prepared for the camera test. Kody glanced quickly around the backyard. There were at least twenty crew members scurrying around, talking, moving cables,

checking equipment, or waiting for Bo's next instructions.

"Okay, let's try one," Bo called loudly.

The crew instantly became silent.

Bo put a hand on Joanna's shoulder and gestured up to the camera with his clipboard. "It's going to come sliding down the boom toward you," he told her. "Slowly at first, then picking up speed. It'll stop right here." He held his hand a foot from Joanna's face.

"Should I face it like this?" she asked, staring up at the heavy black camera perched so high above the ground.

"Yeah. Good," Bo said, patting her shoulder. "You can try a scream if you like. Might be good practice."

Bo checked his watch. "Ready, Ernie?"

Rob had his arm around Kody's shoulders. They both moved closer to get a better view.

Ernie, the boom operator, flashed Bo a thumbs-up sign.

"Let it slide on three," Bo instructed. He nodded at Joanna. Then he counted slowly, "One—two— three."

Kody saw Ernie release a lever.

Joanna raised both hands in the air and let out a shrill scream as the big camera started its slide.

It slipped down slowly at first, then moved faster. Faster.

Joanna's scream stopped abruptly as the camera smashed into her face with a sickening crack.

Her arms shot straight out.

Like everyone else, Kody stared in silent disbelief.

For a few seconds Joanna seemed suspended there, her head impaled by the protruding lens.

Then she toppled back and fell heavily to the ground, leaving the camera soaked with her bright red blood.