Island of the Forbidden (12 page)

Chapter Twenty-One

There was a light knock at Jessica's door. She flipped her cell phone onto the cushiony bed. Out here, the thing was as useful as a rock. She'd been standing on chairs and crawling on her hands and knees hoping to get just one bar. It would be nice to be able to call her aunt or Angela, and exceedingly helpful if she could get a word out to Swedey and see if he was able to dig up more dirt on the Ormsby clan.

Daphne Harper stood outside the door, looking apologetic. Before Jessica could speak, she held up a slight, pale hand, her eyes downcast.

“Before you say anything, I want to apologize to you. I understand what we did wasn't exactly fair.”

Understatement of the year,
Jessica thought.

“I know it's hard for someone of your means to understand what it's like to be desperate.”

“How do you know about my means?” Jessica asked coldly. Even most of her neighbors back in the Long Island neighborhood where she was born and raised weren't aware that she was a multi-millionaire.

Daphne took an unconscious half-step back. She did raise her head to meet Jessica's icy glare. “You may dismiss her, but Nina does have some remarkable abilities. Truth be told, she frightens me. Which is why I would appreciate it if you and Eddie would stay close to Alice and Jason. I understand it's a lot to ask, coming from a woman who deceived you.”

Jessica let a long, uncomfortable silence pass. She had to check herself from slamming the door in Daphne's face.

“Paul and his friends plan to start filming tonight,” Daphne said.

“We'll stay with the kids,” Jessica finally said. “Someone with some sense has to. You do know why, don't you?”

Daphne slowly shook her head. “I'm not sure what you mean.”

Sighing her irritation, Jessica said, “You do know why you brought me here, correct?”

Playing with the sleeve of her jacket, Daphne said, “Yes, of course I do.” The words were defiant but her tone was defeated.

“That part of me that you wanted to use to bring out the EBs here. Your children have it too. Didn't Nina tell you that?”

Daphne looked genuinely shocked.

Looks like I'm not the only one getting their chain yanked.

“From what Eddie can tell, their ability, for lack of a better word, is weak, unrefined. But they have it. I only came here to help them if I could and protect them if it became necessary. So, in a way, nothing's changed much for me. So yes, we'll be with them tonight and for as long as we're here.”

Before Daphne could respond, Jessica closed the door. It wasn't the most mature thing to do, but damn it felt good.

Eddie and Jessica ate dinner with the children by the water where it was warmest. He could almost believe it was late spring, this far from the strange house. The trail of EB children kept their distance from them, which was what allowed the heat of the day to penetrate their moveable chill. When they sat down by the water's edge to lay out their sandwiches and apples on a thin blanket, Eddie cast a mental request for the EBs to give them some space so they could eat without shivering.

To his surprise, the EBs had responded, granting his wish. It was the first time he'd had a focused interaction with an EB for a year.

Please let that be a sign that I'm getting some of my strength back.
It was possible that Jessica was charging him as much as the dead. It made sense, considering how strongly tethered he was to them.

Jason and Alice devoured their dinner and had been skipping rocks along the water for the better part of an hour. Jessica had been the one to show them how to get more skips on each throw. Most of Eddie's rocks sank to the bottom after a two skip maximum. Jessica's rocks danced atop the liquid surface like frantic dragonflies.

It didn't take long for Alice and Jason to become fledgling experts.

“You keep this up, there won't be any more rocks left on the island,” Eddie said. He lay on the blanket, propped up by his elbows. The orange reflection of the sun shimmered as rocks rippled the water.

Jason looked around his feet. “We may run out of good, flat rocks.”

Alice, who was crouched low, poking around the dirt, said, “We can just find another spot if we do.”

Jessica offered Eddie the last half of a ham sandwich. Paul had made the dinner for them, in between being called into the library by Mitch. He hadn't spoken or even looked them in the eye. To Eddie, he looked like a man waiting to be punched, his body tensed in a defensive position at all times. Tobe and Daphne had spent their time in the great room with Nina. It seemed to give Jessica great pleasure when Eddie told her he'd overheard Daphne having some harsh words for the flamboyant psychic. No one looked happy in that room.

“I'm stuffed,” he said, patting his stomach.

“You eat less than Alice,” Jessica said, taking a bite of the sandwich.

“I think I've conditioned myself to be full with less.”

“You're no starving artist, so you need to start eating.”

He rolled onto his side to face her. “To tell you the truth, I'm usually too sick to eat. Just the thought of chewing food when your head feels like it's going to crack open is enough to go on a liquid diet. My father used to tell me a dark beer is like a meal in a can.”

“If you even think of going alcoholic on me, I'll beat you.”

Jessica had done her homework after meeting him, reading up on psychic phenomena and the lives of famous psychic-mediums. The fact that most ended up with strange, debilitating medical conditions and substance abuse problems hadn't flown under her radar. She'd once grilled him about his own family and their gifted and at times renowned lineage. Unfortunately, they did little to break the stereotype of the sickly, addicted psychic medium.

Jessica suddenly leaned forward, staring hard at a spot on the water. Eddie looked too.

He hoped she wasn't seeing the same thing he could.

Jason had a handful of rocks. Plucking them one after another, he skipped rocks like a little machine gun.

The ghostly remains of a boy—he looked to be no older than his early teens—rose from the water. Jason's rocks sailed through the apparition. The boy was bloated, his waterlogged flesh splitting at the seams, his face blown into a distorted mask that would give even the hardest homicide cop nightmares.

Being as casual as he could, Eddie said, “What's the matter, Jess?”

She squinted against the sun. “I thought I saw something in the water, like a fish breaking the surface. Did you see it?”

Eddie allowed himself a small sigh of relief.

“It's not a fish. I think part of you was able to detect it, but there's not enough there for your brain to piece it together.”

“Is that your way of telling me there's an EB in the water?”

“Right in the line of fire.”

The boy stared at Jason and Alice with distended eyes. Eddie closed his eyes hard, trying to keep the boy's image from burning itself into his memory. It was one thing to see the dead. It was another to see a representation of them at the time of their death. There was no pattern to it. Some chose to revert to what they were as a child, or a younger, healthier version of themselves. Others retained their death mask, victims of horrid accidents, drownings and suicides. He'd asked many an EB about it but even they had no answers.

Eddie had once shocked Jessica when he told her the dead had more questions about the afterlife than the living. She'd refused to believe him, thinking he was holding back on information gleaned from a lifetime of communing with the deceased.

“Do you think we should tell the kids to give it a rest? I don't want the EB to think they're being disrespectful.”

The apparition turned its heavy head in his direction. For a brief moment, Eddie was able to snatch its thoughts from the cacophony that surrounded him.

“He doesn't,” Eddie said. “He heard the rocks skimming over the water and was curious. He thinks Alice needs more practice.”

Shielding her eyes from the early evening sun, Jessica stared hard at the place where the phantom boy stood hip deep in the water.

“Straining your eyes won't make him come into focus for you.”

“But I did see something before. Maybe you're rubbing off on me.” She gathered up their empty plates and dirty napkins, tossing them in a canvas bag. “Does the boy need anything from us?”

He shook his head. “He just wants to watch. I get the feeling he hasn't been with the others on the island. There are some behind us by the tree line over there who seem to recognize him but can't communicate with him. I think it's been a long while since he surfaced, so to speak.”

“This is such a sad, sad place. I can't tell you how many times I just felt like crying since we came. It comes in waves, and leaves just as quickly.”

Alice rubbed the dirt from her small hands. “I don't want to do this anymore.”

“I'm surprised your arm doesn't hurt, you threw so many. You got so good,” Jessica said.

The little girl smiled proudly. “Is it nighttime yet?”

Jessica checked her watch. “I know the sun is out, but it is getting late. Pretty soon we have to get you back to the house. Can we talk for a little bit?”

“Sure.”

The children sat cross-legged, facing Jessica with smiling, open faces.

Jessica said, “I want to ask you about the Last Kids. Is that okay?”

“It's fine, Ms. Backman,” Jason said. “We're not afraid of them.”

“That's good. You're two super brave kids, you know that? Has anyone else seen or heard them?”

The children shook their heads.

“Have you told your parents or uncle about them?”

Again, they shook their heads. “It's our secret,” Alice said. “But we knew we could share it with you and Mr. Home.”

“And we're very glad you did,” Eddie said.

“Have you ever experienced anything like this before, in places you've lived or visited?” Jessica asked.

“A couple of times,” Jason replied. “But never like this. And never with kids like us.”

“Like you, honey?”

“Our age,” he said. “Well, a lot of them, anyway.”

No wonder they're not frightened,
Eddie thought.
This is nothing new to them.

Eddie asked, “When you're around the Last Kids, how do you feel?”

They thought about it for a bit. Alice said, “Sometimes, I get tired, like I want to take a nap.”

Jason nodded in agreement. “That's not bad, is it?”

Jessica caressed their cheeks. “No, not at all. I've seen the way you to run around. I'm sure you just get tired from being so active.”

“You're not tired now, are you?” Eddie asked, knowing they were surrounded by EB children.

“No, not at all,” they said in unison.

Eddie set a reminder to ask Jessica how she was feeling. His theory was that now that a larger power source was in their midst, the EBs would focus their attention on Jessica, leaving the kids alone for a spell.

Jason cleaned his hands on his tan slacks, leaving trails of grime along the outer thighs. “Can we do one more thing?” he asked.

“Sure,” Jessica said. Eddie got off the blanket and helped her fold it up. It was an odd scene, this faux idyll amidst an island with a dark secret, teeming with the souls of dead children while a handful of fame seekers plotted a way to take advantage of the situation.

“Would you like to see the cemetery?” Jason said.

“The cemetery? I thought Eddie and I saw the whole island. I didn't see any cemetery.”

Alice rolled her eyes. “It's not like a real cemetery. It just has a couple of headstones.”

“Where is it?” Eddie asked.

Alice pointed over their shoulders. “Behind the house. It's hard to find because there's a ring of trees around them. Come on, we'll show you.”

“Do the Last Kids go there too?” Jessica asked, slinging the canvas bag over her shoulder.

Alice said, “No, they don't like it there. They don't like us to go there, either, but I figured it would be all right because you're with us. Right?”

She looked past them. Eddie knew there were dozens of EBs not ten feet away.

“Can you see them now?” he asked.

Alice giggled in reply and jogged off to the hidden cemetery with Jason right behind her.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Paul had changed into a turtleneck sweater and black jeans. The house was downright arctic, but he also had to dress better for the camera. Nina had donned several more layers of long scarves that swished past her waist. Mitch and Rusty were wearing thin gloves.

“So, how should we start?” Paul asked.

It was still light outside, but they had closed all the blinds to amp up the eeriness of the house. It would be truly dark soon enough and they would switch to night vision.

Mitch took the camera from his shoulder and placed it on an end table. “You should stand by the fireplace and introduce yourself, then tell the viewers where you are and get into a little history of the house. Make sure you start with the murders twenty years ago and work your way down. We need to hook people right away.”

“Is there any way we can start a fire?” Nina asked. The words formed a swirling mist as they left her mouth.

“It'll be better if we keep the scenery stark,” Rusty said, framing the scene with Paul alongside the fireplace that was almost big enough for a man to stand within. The stones had been charred black. It looked like a gateway to a bad, bad place. “Just aesthetically speaking.” He walked out of the room and into the library.

Paul rubbed his hands together. “Rusty's right. I know we're all cold, but we have to set the opening scene just right. Nina, do you want to stand next to me or the other side? After I do a little history thing, you can talk about what you've sensed ever since you came to the island.” For some reason, Nina gave him the creeps. It wasn't necessarily the fact that she could see and talk to the dead. Eddie could too, supposedly, and the only thing he worried about with Eddie was getting a swift uppercut in defense of Jessica. The guy was wiry but something in his look told Paul he was happy to put a hurt on him if needed. He was glad they were outside with the kids.

Mitch said, “We'll list your credentials underneath you during post-production.”

Nina opted to stand on the other side of the fireplace. Paul ran his fingers through his beard, putting any stray hairs back in place. He took a deep breath. No pressure. The entire financial fate of the family was only resting on this. Nope, nothing to worry about at all.

“Rusty, you ready to roll?” Mitch called out.

“I thought I was,” he called back. “I can't get my camera to work.”

Nina turned to Paul and said, “Must be battery drain. Happens all the time when there are strong spirits near.”

Rusty came out shaking his head. “The battery's fine. All I'm getting on video is a black screen. How's yours, Mitch?”

The big man looked through his viewfinder. “I'm locked and loaded. How about I shoot the opening scene a few times from different angles?”

Sighing, Rusty said, “You're gonna have to. This sucker is dead for the moment. I'll have to mess around with it some more and see what I can get.” He went back to the library, shutting the door behind him.

“You want to tell Daphne and Tobe not to come down?” Mitch said.

“I already did,” Paul assured him. “I also said we'll have them on-camera tomorrow night when we really get into things.”

“They all right with that?” Mitch asked. “Your sister looked pretty pissed before.”

“She'll be fine,” Nina said before Paul could respond. “Let's shoot this damn thing.”

Mitch took his place opposite them, attaching the camera to a tri-pod. There was going to be a ton of hand-held work in the shoot. Adding some steady shots throughout would keep viewers from getting seasick.

He held up his hand. “Okay, in five, four, three.”

He pulled down the last two fingers silently. Paul took the cue and started to speak when the lights went out with an audible pop.

“Goddammit!” Mitch growled.

“Are you kidding me?” Paul said. Bits of dying sunlight seeped through some cracks in the blinds, making it possible to move without tripping over the few pieces of furniture in the room. “Rusty, did you do anything in there to kill the juice?”

The library door slid open. Rusty said, “Why are you filming in the dark?”

“You have light in there?” Paul asked.

“Yeah.”

Mitch clicked a flashlight on and pointed it at the ceiling light. He reached up and unscrewed the bulb. “Sucker blew.” He went over to the pair of lamps on the two end tables, just out of the framed shot by the fireplace. The bulbs squeaked as he unscrewed them. “These too.”

“You mean to tell me, all three bulbs burned out at the exact same time?” Paul said.

Nina whispered, “The children are here.”

Paul said, “Well, since you can talk to them, can you tell them to please stop breaking our bulbs? It's not like I can walk down to the store and pick up more.”

He hoped his cavalier attitude was good enough to cover the icy fear that had settled into his gut. It was one thing to talk about ghosts, quite another to have them messing around with things in the physical world. But this is what they wanted.

I'll never think of “be careful what you wish for” the same way again.

“I can't just talk to them like I can to you,” she said. He heard her move about in the darkness. A shaft of light stabbed his eyes when she opened a set of blinds.

“Isn't that what Eddie can do?” Paul asked. She had said Eddie's talent was prodigious.

The slight dig at Nina brought a dangerous curl to her upper lip. Mitch said, “I'm going to find some more bulbs and we can try this again.”

Paul felt something tickle the back of his neck. He slapped it hard, thinking a small bug had gotten tangled in his hair.

“What's the matter Paul, you don't like it when the dead get curious?” Nina said with a mocking laugh. He shivered, a head-to-toe seizure that made the edges of his brain go fuzzy.

What the hell have we gotten into?

Alice and Jason led them to a tight, circular gathering of trees. The kids easily ran through the largest gap. Jessica and Eddie had to squeeze through sideways.

“See?” Alice said, pointing down.

Three rectangular tombstones, each no more than two feet high and simply bearing etched crosses in their faces were lined up within the small clearing. The weathering of the stones was the only way to tell their order of placement. The oldest was covered in sickly yellow lichen. Its edges had been worn down over time. The one next to it had a large crack running diagonally. It looked as if a stiff breeze would finish the job and sheer the stone in half.

The last headstone looked relatively new, the bleached stone in stark contrast to the older, weathered markers.

Jessica knelt down, brushing her fingertips over the stone faces, running along the groove of the carved crosses.

“Are there any names on the other side?” she asked Eddie. He stepped around them and shook his head. “Nothing.”

The fading beams of sunlight worked through the tree gaps, illuminating the headstones like a stage light. It was as if they wanted to be found in their bizarre hiding place.

“It's like a little, natural church in here,” Eddie said.

“The Last Kids don't ever come here,” Jason said. Jessica noticed how close Alice and Jason were standing next to Eddie. They looked plenty scared.

“Thank you for showing us,” she said. She could see the house not more than fifty feet away. She wasn't sure she and Eddie would have ever spotted these tombstones if it weren't for the kids. They'd been hidden in plain sight—sort of. “Why don't you head on up to the house and see your mom and dad? Eddie and I will be inside soon.”

Jason regarded her with open skepticism, but she could tell he was anxious to get away from the tiny graveyard.

Alice said, “Don't stay long, Ms. Backman.”

She grabbed her brother's hand and led him out of the circle of trees. Jessica watched them until they went inside.

“What the hell is this?” she asked Eddie. “Maybe it's a pet cemetery or something. Who buries a person without at least putting their name on the marker?”

Eddie knelt onto the leafy ground, laying his palms flat.

“There definitely aren't any pets down there,” he said. “It's people. You want to find out who?”

“How? I'm not getting a shovel.”

“You remember when we connected with that spirit in New Hampshire?”

She'd never forget. With Eddie as a conduit, he'd been able to bring her in direct contact with the hideous energy of a man who had committed suicide just blocks away. She also remembered it hadn't ended well.

“I do,” she said, “hence my apprehension. I think I'd rather go the way of the shovel.”

He patted the ground. “Their spirits aren't here, at least at the moment. That much I can tell. It won't be like last time. But I may be able to see.”

She squatted down next to him. “You sure you can do it?”

“It used to be easy. I may struggle a bit, but I'm feeling a little stronger now. Come on, it'll be one less mystery we have to muddle through.”

He held out his hand and she took it. “Now what do I do?”

He lay back, the top of his head resting against the oldest stone. “Just lay next to me and close your eyes. Let's see if I can make a connection.”

“Sometimes I think you're scarier than the EBs,” she said, settling into the moldy leaves.

“This coming from the girl who EBs are afraid of. Now, try to relax and don't talk.”

His hand felt warm wrapped around hers, and comforting. A bird fluttered overhead. She was tempted to open her eyes to watch it take flight.

She resisted the urge. This was Eddie's show now.

They lay side-by-side for a while, until she could no longer tell how much time had passed. Despite laying in dirt and leaves and God knew how many bugs, she let all of her stresses go, to the point where she thought she had fallen asleep.

You're just in between,
Eddie's voice whispered.

Are you in my mind?

Just enough to be able to talk to you and show you anything that comes through. How do you feel?

Like I'm floating on water. Is that normal?

I can think of worse ways to be. Can you still feel my hand?

She flexed her fingers, but she couldn't tell if she was physically doing it or using the phantom fingers of her mind.

Yes.

Good. Don't let go. We're going to slip down now. Just stay with me, no matter what you see.

It suddenly felt as if she were being sucked into a great, dark funnel. A gust of air burst from her lungs.

Down they went, through crumbling dirt, the smell of earth, life and decay pummeling her senses.

They stopped with a jolt in a pitch-black chamber.

Where are we?
she asked.

In the coffin. Let me see for you.

Slowly, a man came into view, his face in quiet, eternal repose. His waxy skin stretched over sharp cheekbones, his gray hair combed back over a high forehead. His mouth was a tight slash with bloodless lips above a cleft chin. The image gave her a start.

Which grave are we in?
she said.

The oldest.
She felt Eddie's puzzlement.

That can't be possible. He looks like he was just buried.

There must be something at work in the chemistry of the island that's preserving his body. It's like the incorruptibles, bodies that weren't preserved in any special way that don't decay. Catholic saints like Bernadette and Padre Pio are said not to have decomposed even though they died a long, long time ago. Environmental factors can cause a kind of mummification.

Jessica said, or thought,
This is bizarre. I'm getting a lesson on mummification while in the coffin of a dead man. Before I get too weirded out, can we go to the others?

We can. Just hold on tight. I don't want to lose you down here.

He chuckled.

Glad you can find humor in all of this,
Jessica said
.

Hey, welcome to my world. Now you see why I drink.

The next corpse looked similar to the first, only he was younger when he'd died, with full, sandy hair and a sharp nose. The last was the oldest of the three. The flesh of his face sagged from his skull, but it still retained a lifelike pallor. Unlike the others, this one hadn't been prepped to look good in the afterlife. His hair was unkempt, with wild bristles sprouting from his nostrils and ears. Instead of a suit, he'd been buried in a dirty button down shirt and loose slacks.

Time to go back up,
Eddie said.

To Jessica, it was like that moment between dreams when you suddenly feel as if you're falling from a short height. She came to, feeling the ground swell up underneath her. Springing to a sitting position, she winced with pain as the blood rushed to her forehead.

“Holy shit,” she said. “That was wild.”

Eddie swatted dirt from his pants, offering a hand to help her up. “See, I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“Well, now we know there are three men buried behind the house. We just need to find out who they are.”

“Oh, I did that. There was just enough residual energy left for me to identify them.”

She held up a hand. “Before you say anything, let me guess. Could they be three generations of Ormsby patriarchs?”

A smile spread across his face. “Did you feel it when you were connected with me?”

“It doesn't take a psychic to put two and two together. But why the unmarked graves? And why are the Last Kids afraid of them?”

The sun had set while they were exploring and the pervasive chill had taken root in the darkness. They wedged their way out of the hidden cemetery and headed to the house.

Eddie said, “I have a feeling they'll tell us when they're ready.”