314 Book 3 (Widowsfield Trilogy) (24 page)

“What happened to them?” asked Oliver.

“Some fell into a sleep-like state, just like Lyle here. But others were found fused to parts of the ship, with their faces halfway in and halfway out of the ship itself.”

“Seriously?”

Vess nodded and then laughed. “Sitting in a boat out of danger doesn’t sound so bad now, does it?”

Branson

March 13
th
, 2012

Just before 5:00 AM

Alma felt dizzy as she stared at the brother she’d lost sixteen years earlier. His condition was horrifying. His eyes were open wide, the lower lids drooping as if having long ago lost the strength to close, and the whites blazing with red veins from dryness. His cheekbones jutted forth, easily defining his features as the thin, pale skin seemed to hang from his skull. Despite his appearance, she still recognized her brother.

“Ben.”

“He’s not your brother,” said Rosemary from the bed. “Don’t let him fool you, Alma.”

Jacker glanced in at Ben and cursed, “Fucking hell.” Then he glared over at Michael and asked, “Did you stuff that shit in his mouth, you sick fuck?”

Alma quickly moved to release the make-shift gag that had been wrapped around her brother’s head. She was shaking as she did it, and felt her stomach lurch. She pulled the dirty t-shirt out of his mouth and then stepped back again.

Ben uttered his sister’s name, “Alma.”

She fell to her knees before him. The same sensation that had flooded her in the cabin when her mother had taken her there now came again. It was a wave of emotion that debilitated her. The skeletal man in the wheelchair, locked away in the dark bathroom by their abusive father, was unquestionably Ben. She’d never been more certain of anything.

“Give that to me,” said Paul to Jacker. “Let’s shove it in his dad’s mouth to see how he likes it. I’m sick of listening to the fucker whine.” Jacker retrieved the belt and t-shirt from the floor behind Alma and brought it over to Paul.

Alma reached out and put her hands on Ben’s legs. She felt his knobby knees and began to sob.
“Oh God, Ben. What did they do to you?”

“Alma,” he said again.

His odor was distinct, a mix of decay and the antibacterial soap they used back at Cada E.I.B . She ignored the smell and pulled his chair closer to her. “I won’t let them hurt you anymore, Ben.”

“Alma,” said Ben again, but this time he continued. “Kill him.”

She didn’t need to ask who he meant. She glanced over at the others, wondering if they’d heard. Paul and Jacker were in the process of gagging Michael. They were planning on loading him into the van first, and talked about cutting the cord on the blinds to tie his wrist with. He was struggling with them, but both Paul and Jacker were far larger than he was, and they had little trouble forcing their will upon him.

“Kill him.” Ben’s words were quiet, but filled with venom. He repeated himself, “Kill him.”

Alma hushed her brother, and then shook her head. “I can’t, Ben. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

“Remember,” said Ben. Each word was a chore for him to say, but he was intent on convincing his sister to do as he asked.

“Remember what?” asked Alma.

“What
Daddy did.”

Alma looked over at her father, who was being forced to stand up after having his hands tied behind his back. Paul and
Jacker were focused on Michael, and weren’t paying attention to what Ben was telling Alma.

“What do you mean?” asked Alma.

Ben’s unblinking eyes stared at Alma as he put his hands onto hers. “Remember.”

A lost memory began to return to her as Ben touched her hand.

Alma remembered coming home one night when she was very young, and feeling the wet carpet on her way down the hall. She’d found her father lying nude on her bed, having just showered. He beckoned her to him, and then…

“Alma!” Rosemary screamed from the bed.

Paul and Jacker had left with Michael, and Rosemary managed to turn herself so that she was facing the bathroom. Blood covered her face and hands, and she was clearly in pain as she pulled herself to the edge of the bed. Alma realized that at least a few minutes had passed as she knelt before Ben, but the time had passed without her knowing it, as if she’d fallen asleep. She took her hands off of Ben’s knees as if they’d been burned, and then stared at her brother in shock.

His teeth were chattering as he glared at her.

“He’s lying, Alma,” said Rosemary.

Alma backed away from Ben and shook her head in confusion. “What happened?”

“I’ve been yelling your name, but you wouldn’t answer,” said Rosemary. “What did he do to you? What did he say?”

“He told me…” Alma didn’t want to admit it. She didn’t want to dredge up the awful memory of what her father had done. The image of his nude body on the bed was clear and detailed, as if it had happened minutes earlier. She could feel his hands on
her, and his promise that, ‘This is what Daddies do.’

“What, Alma?” asked
Rosemary. “I can’t protect you if you don’t tell me what he said.”

“He reminded me about what my dad did to me.”

“No,” said Rosemary. “No, that’s not necessarily true. What did he say? What are you remembering that you didn’t remember before?”

“He…” It was painful to admit. “He
hurt me.” That was as much as she was willing to say.

“
It’s not true, Alma.” Rosemary winced as she sat up. She had a sheet tied around her waist, and continued to put pressure on her wound to stem the bleeding.

“I remember it.”

“He’s forcing you to think that way. Come here. Let me help you.”

“I don’t want your help forgetting,” said Alma. “The whole reason I wanted to come back to
Widowsfield is because I need help remembering these things. I don’t know what happened to me, but I forgot about so much. I forgot about Ben, and I forgot about what that bastard did to me.” She pointed in the direction of the parking lot where Paul and Jacker had taken her father.

“Listen to me, Alma,” said Rosemary. “This is what The Skeleton Man does. He twists your memories to get you to do what he wants. That’s why I had you give me this.” She took the
teddy bear keychain out of her pocket. It was wet with her blood as it dangled from its ring. “You have to trust me.”

“No, I remember it now. I remember walking down the hall and seeing him on the bed, and I remember him holding me down.” The painful memory brought tears to her eyes.

“You remember it exactly as he wants you to, Alma. This is what he does. This is how he made this stranger,” she pointed at the man that was unconscious on the floor, “come in here to try and kill us. You can’t trust anything he says to you.”

“He wants me to kill our dad.”

“Of course he does,” said Rosemary. “He’ll do anything to stop us.”

“Why?” asked Alma. “Why would he try to hurt me like that? He’s my brother.”

“No, Alma, he’s not,” said Rosemary. “He’s so much more than just one soul now. He’s one of The Watcher’s creatures, and he knows that we’re taking him back. He’s going to try and kill every one of us if he can. That’s why you have to trust me. I’m the only one you can trust.”

“I don’t even know you,” said Alma.

“But I know you,” said Rosemary as the teddy bear dangled from her finger. “I know everything about you, and that’s why you have to trust me.”

Alma looked at Ben as she backed further away. Then she turned back to Rosemary and asked, “What are you planning on doing? At least tell me how you’re going to end this.”

Rosemary pointed in the direction of the bathroom, although she couldn’t see Ben from her vantage on the bed. “We’re going to put that thing back where it belongs. And then we’re going to do whatever it takes to make sure he never gets out again.”

“And how are we going to do that?”

“That’s what we have to figure out.”

Alma sighed and then let out a quick laugh. “You don’t know? You’re leading us back into hell and you don’t have any clue if it’s going to do us any good?”

“I know that you were able to do what Oliver and his boss have been trying to do again for sixteen years. You went into that cabin and you opened up the doorway back into The Watcher’s world. For whatever reason, you’re tied to his world, and together we can go back there and end this. You’re the only one that can.”

“Why me?” asked Alma.

“The Watcher used you,” said Rosemary. “He used you to help control Ben.”

“How?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” said Rosemary. “But one thing I always understood about The Skeleton Man was that he felt unloved. He had a hatred of fathers, and felt like no one cared about him. The Watcher needed him to feel that way. He needed him to feel helpless and alone, but when your mother used Chaos Magick to give you back your memories, Ben saw that you loved him. The Watcher tried to use you to help drive your mother insane. He wanted you both dead, but it didn’t work out that way.”

“Mom took me back to Chicago,” said Alma.

Rosemary looked weary as she shook her head. “No she didn’t, Alma. You’ve repressed the memory. Your mother drove you off that cliff.”

“No she didn’t,” said Alma, but her conviction was nearly lost. “She took me to my grandparent’s house.”

“You went into the reservoir with her,” said Rosemary. “But somehow you managed to get out. You swam to shore, and that’s where the police found you.”

“No, that’s not true,” said Alma, but again her tone revealed how uncertain she was.

Rosemary continued without acknowledging Alma’s disagreement. “I used the accident to convince Oliver that you were dead.”

“How?” asked Alma.

“I messed with his head a little,” said Rosemary as if proud of the fact. “He hired me to help him put Widowsfield back together the way it was in 1996, but there’s no doubt in my mind that he was never planning on letting me leave. If I hadn’t screwed with his head, then I bet he would’ve killed me for real.”

“So you can screw with people’s heads too?” asked Alma. “Just like Ben.”

“It’s not the same thing,” said Rosemary.

“How can we be sure you’re not lying to us?” asked Alma as she eyed the woman in suspicion. “How do we know you’re not manipulating us to get what you want, just like how Ben was messing with me?”

Rosemary rolled her eyes and then regarded her bleeding wound. “I’m the only one that’s been stabbed so far. If this is all part of some master plan of mine, then I suck at planning.”

Alma laughed and nodded in agreement. “I guess that’s true.”

Rosemary held out the beaded, wooden necklace that she’d been holding. “Here, do me a favor and put this on our friend.” She pointed at the hotel guest that had stabbed her.

“What for?”

“Hopefully this will help him forget we were ever here. We need to cover our tracks.”

Alma took the necklace and then did as Rosemary asked. She lifted the unconscious man’s head and slipped the necklace over him.

“Tuck it in, under his shirt,” said Rosemary.

Alma did as she was asked. “How does that work?”

“Hopefully he gets up with a hell of a headache and believes that he was mugged by a girl that he brought back here from a local bar. That’s all.”

Alma smiled, but she wasn’t sure if she should trust the gifted stranger or be frightened of her. 

Widowsfield

March 14
th
, 1996

Oliver had been escorted to one of the two Z-Drive tugboats that were floating beside the Eldridge. He was in the rear tug, with the second only ten yards ahead. Each of the tugs were connected to the Eldridge by a winched cord that was fitted with a hook that looped through a hold on the battleship’s side. Oliver had been assured that two of these tugs would be plenty to pull the battleship where it needed to be. Apparently these little, single-operator tugs were very powerful.

“We’ll get him out to the middle and then detach,” said the fat captain. He was a short, round man that looked to be in his mid to late fifties, with pure white stubble and wearing a camouflage hat. He was smoking a pipe, and the smell of his tobacco was thick but aromatic.
“Might want to grab hold of something. It can get a bit bumpy when we first start her up.”

Oliver complied, although he had to search for something to hold onto. He was in the small cabin of the tug, and the captain’s girth left little room to maneuver.

The crew aboard the Eldridge was sparse, but there had to be at least five on there with Vess. Oliver wasn’t sure if he was jealous of the men that were required to man the ship or if he pitied them.

The reservoir wasn’t very deep, and the massive chain of the anchor on the Eldridge didn’t have long to turn before the ship was ready to move out. Men lined the edge on the dam’s side, ensuring that the boat was moving away from the fragile wooden observation deck as it got going.