Chapter Seven
The night is still, the moon tucked behind a bank of ominously heavy clouds.
A row of streetlamps is the only light in the smothering darkness, their soft glow pooling in small circles along the lane outside the Western house.
Fall leaves crunch under our boots as Callum unlocks the formidable iron gate and gives it a push. It swings back, surprisingly silent.
‘I was at least expecting a creak,’ I say.
He glances back over his shoulder. ‘You’ve seen too many horror movies.’
‘No, I’ve lived too many horror movies.’
He pulls an electromagnetic field meter from his jacket pocket and studies it.
Red and green lights flicker up and down the screen.
He looks towards the lane. ‘We might be too close to the streetlights to get an accurate EMF reading. Maybe nearer the house.’ He squints down at me. ‘Don’t look at me like that.’
‘I’m not looking at you like anything.’
‘This stuff works.’
‘I never it said it didn’t.’
His brows lift.
‘Okay, I might have said that, but I also said I didn’t mean it.’
I step onto the familiar cobblestone path, the ground uneven beneath my boots, and we slowly make our way towards the shadowy house, the beams from our flashlights bouncing in front of us.
‘Stay close,’ Callum whispers.
‘I’m not some damsel in distress, Callum.’ I grab the back of his jacket. ‘And this is far enough.’
He passes the beam from his flashlight across the front of the old house, revealing a deep porch.
The light glints on the windows beyond it, their shutters surprisingly folded back.
The hair on the nape of my neck stands on end as the entirety of the house comes into view, hulking in the shadows, exactly as it did in my dream.
I shudder and glance around, half expecting to see the strange man with the frightening eyes standing behind me.
‘Are you alright?’ Callum asks.
‘We should have waited until morning.’
‘But you just had to come out here,’ he says. ‘I was all for going back to the hotel, but—’
I thump him on the arm.
He grins, white teeth and pale skin glowing in the moonlight.
‘Let’s have a quick scout around,’ he says, ‘then we can head back.’ He lifts his EMF meter and shakes his head. ‘I’m not getting anything. Are you getting anything? See any nineteenth-century ghosts wandering about?’
‘Give me a minute,’ I say.
I draw a deep breath and still my thoughts, blocking out everything around me.
Sounds. Emotions. Callum. I allow my mind’s eye to drift along the path and up the stairs that rise to the porch.
I stop my mental gaze at the impressive front doors, bracing for the same anguished sensation that hit me in my dream, or the same odd feeling that came over me when I first looked at the photos in my office.
But there’s nothing, and that’s strange, because old houses should not be silent.
‘It’s… quiet,’ I say.
‘That’s weird, right? You should be picking up some kind of energy with a house this old. Maybe the spirits are playing possum.’
‘Spirits can’t play possum with me. If something was here, I’d sense it, and then I’d see it, and then I’d—’ A wave of nausea crashes over me, rushing up my throat. ‘Oh god.’ I throw my hand to my mouth to stop from vomiting.
‘What? What’s happening?’
I fold over and clutch at Callum’s leg. ‘Something… awful. I’m going to be sick.’
‘Shit. Okay.’ He makes tiny circles on my back with his palm as he helps me straighten up. ‘Let’s get you to the car.’
But as we start back towards the gate, Callum stops, turns around and passes the beam from his flashlight across the front of the house again.
‘What are you doing?’ I grimace as I swallow back hot bile.
His hand drops from my arm. ‘I thought I heard a voice, or…’ He takes a step away from me. ‘Holly, do you see that?’
‘What?’ I peer into the darkness. ‘What am I looking at?’
Callum’s gaze is fixed on the shadowy building. ‘There,’ he says, pointing. ‘At the window.’
I straighten up and aim my flashlight at the house, squinting towards the feeble beam of light. ‘There’s nothing there.’ I tug at Callum’s jacket. ‘We need to go.’
‘She’s right there.’ He points frantically. ‘A woman. Why can’t you see her?’ His feet shuffle forward.
‘What are you doing?’ I grab his hand, but he jerks it free of my fingers and starts to sprint across the yard.
‘Callum, no!’ I lunge forward, trying to catch hold of him again, but he’s too fast. He’s already at the steps, climbing them two at a time, before I’ve even moved.
He races across the porch toward the front door.
‘Stop!’ I call out, staggering after him. ‘Don’t go—’
An ear-splitting shatter fills the night.
Shards of glass explode outward from one of the porch windows, raining down into the garden like tiny moonlit daggers.
Callum pitches backwards, his body hitting the porch railing with such force he takes a chunk of it with him.
He soars into the garden, arms flailing, then crashes to the ground with a horrific thud.
I freeze, not quite believing what I’ve just seen. Then I’m off, dashing towards him, landing heavily on my knees beside his inert body.
‘Callum!’ He breathes out a soft moan. I grab his hand and pull, grunting as I desperately try to hoist him off the ground.
Bile rises in my throat again, and with it a stabbing pain ripping through my gut.
His fingers slip through mine as I crumple to the earth beside him.
My head rolls towards the house. Pain pours from its walls, drowning me in a tidal wave of suffering.
The same suffering I felt in my dream. The same wretched agony slamming into me again and again and again.
I have to get up. I have to get us out of here.
My muscles tremble as I push up on my knees.
‘Callum.’ I tap his cheek and he breathes out another moan.
‘Get up!’ I yell the words, but he still doesn’t move.
An image of Celeste’s broken body flashes through my mind.
Nope. Nope . This is different. This is his fault.
I asked him to do one thing. Not be stupid.
And what does he do? ‘Get. Up,’ I yell again. This time he flinches.
I try to yank him to his feet, but I can’t, he’s too heavy and the pain that keeps crashing into me is too great. I can’t stand it anymore. I need it to end. So, I lift my face to the sky and scream out, ‘Leave us alone!’
My nausea instantly stops. The pain vanishes. The house is silent again.
I crawl back to Callum and slip my hand under his head. ‘Come on, Callum. I need you to help me here.’
His eyes finally flutter open. ‘Holly?’
‘Oh, thank god. Can you stand? We need to move and I can’t lift you.’ I push myself up, grab his hand again and tug, grunting as we somehow manage to get him to his feet.
He lets out a sharp hiss and puts his hand to his side. ‘Am I bleeding?’ He holds up his palm to show me. ‘Holly, I’m bleeding.’
‘We’ll look at it in the car.’
We lumber awkwardly towards the gate, Callum’s tall frame leaning heavily against me.
‘What happened?’ he asks.
We stumble out into the lane and the comforting glow of the streetlamps.
‘You did something stupid.’ I prop him against the car. ‘We should call Mr Rosing and tell him what just happened.’
‘Or we don’t. We told him we weren’t doing this, remember? I don’t want to get us fired on our first night.’
‘I remember you said we weren’t doing this.’ I ease him into the front seat. ‘I’m pretty sure I had nothing to do with it.’ Flicking on the interior light, I push aside his jacket and roll up the hem of his T-shirt to check his wound. ‘I’m taking you to the hospital.’
‘No hospital. Just take me back to my room, I can stitch myself up.’
‘Oh, okay, Rambo. What with, dental floss?’ I shake my head. ‘There’s a lot of blood. You need a doctor.’
‘I said, no hospital ,’ he shouts.
I recoil. ‘Don’t you dare yell at me.’
‘I’m sorry. Just, no hospital, okay? Too many questions and… I don’t like them. The cut’s not that bad. I’ve had worse. Get me to my room, I’ll sort it from there.’
I run my hands through my hair, forgetting that they’re sticky with his blood.
I grab an old towel from the trunk. ‘Here.’ I press it to his side, and he yelps.
‘Don’t be a baby,’ I say. ‘Keep pressure on it, and if you bleed all over my car, you’re cleaning it up.
Give me the key so I can lock the gate.’
Callum’s hand shakes as he digs the key from his pocket. ‘Wait, where’s my EMF?’
‘Just buy a new one.’
‘No, it’s evidence, Holly. Rosing will find it. I’ve got to go get it.’ He groans as he tries to push up.
‘Stop. I’ll go.’ Before he has time to protest, I turn and dash back through the gate.
I scour the lawn with my flashlight, focusing hard to block out whatever attacked us.
I won’t allow it to lay me out again. It only gets to do that once.
I spot the EMF near a piece of broken railing and quickly snatch it up.
Then I look at the house, crouching in the shadows like a beast eyeing its prey.
Whatever is in there is sneaky, and more powerful than anything I’ve ever faced. But that doesn’t mean I can’t face it.
I turn and sprint away, and as I reach the gate, I hear the voice.
Holly. Let us in .
The little bed and breakfast is deserted. Everyone is either out for dinner or has called it a night. The only person we see is a woman sitting in a lounge chair in the small reception area. She looks up with a smile that quickly drops.
‘Is everything alright?’ she asks.
I put my arm around Callum’s waist and let him rest against me. ‘Too much fun.’ I roll my eyes.
I groan under his weight as we stumble up the hall.
‘Jesus, you’re heavy,’ I say as we reach our rooms.
‘I’m a big boy.’ I think he tries to wink, but it looks more like a wince.
I shake my head at him. ‘Where’s your key?’
‘Front pocket.’
‘I’m not digging around in your pocket.’