The Amber Light (Black Acres Book 3) Page 5
Looking up at herself in the mirror, Kim noticed two, wide eyes surveying her in the reflection from nearby. Standing just behind her, leaning over her right shoulder, Kim saw Dakota's bright, wild eyes and toothy smile. She said nothing, and their eyes didn't meet; in fact, by the time Kim took notice, the image of Dakota had vanished, making her wonder if she hadn't just imagined it. Kim shook her head, ran a brush through her black hair and pursed her lips. What do you want now, Dakota? Just tell me what you want.
She'd been letting her hair go as of late. The ends were tangled, knotty. With a wince, she went about untangling the strands, brushing at them vigorously. She started from the ends, tugging hard on the tangles with her boar's hair brush. When they wouldn't come easily, she went even harder. Harder.
Running the brush through her hair, she found she was panting, the bristles clawing large, black clumps of hair from her scalp. She continued on, tearing fresh hairs out and gripping at the side of the sink, her knuckles going as white as the porcelain. Her eyes teary, she stopped what she was doing and removed the brush from her hair, finding it ridden with black knots. A large clump of hair stuck to it, far more than she'd intended to come away with. Her scalp tingled where hairs had been yanked out, and suddenly she threw the brush into the sink, taking a step back and bumping into the door at her back. Kim looked at herself in the mirror, her face seeming altogether more gaunt and white than usual. Perhaps her eyes were simply bothering her, but the shape of her chin looked different than she remembered it; longer, elongated, unfamiliar. Her eyes were a bit sunken; she'd slept well the night before, but evidently not well enough. She pawed feebly at her cheeks. The reflection is just off because of this mirror. It's new, you're not used to the way you look in it yet.
Smoothing out her hair, Kim licked the corner of her lips and took an unsteady step out into the hall. She wasn't feeling at all well. A powerful lethargy had claimed her, and she seemed hopeless to shake it off. Shambling down the stairs, she bypassed the kitchen where Julian was still noisily tearing up the flooring and exited through the front door. Closing it behind her quietly, she looked up into the blue sky and paced around near the garage for a time. A cool breeze worked its way over her, bringing her the closest thing to invigoration she could find.
She'd been living out here in the middle of nowhere for weeks. She couldn't remember the last time she'd left the property, the last time she'd seen other people. Oh, she'd visited with Edwin that one time, she knew, but other than that her only companion had been Julian.
She wasn't sure whether Dakota counted in this case.
Spending so much time out here can probably warp your perception... and maybe that's what living here did to Dakota...
Kim banished the thought, shaking her head as if trying to force it to tumble out of her ears. Dakota and Marshall had had a great social life, by the sounds of it. They'd gone to church. Or, maybe they hadn't. Their surviving acquaintances couldn't seem to agree on that. But, of course, they'd had many friends in their day, despite the isolation of this property. Good friends like Edwin, Enid, and--
Kim sighed, stretching. She'd spent far too long in the house, away from other people and other sights. It would do her some good, she thought, to take a day-trip somewhere. A trip to a shopping mall, to see a movie, to visit a park. Perhaps even visiting family, or friends back in the city. All of it sounded lovely. It's time the two of you go for a trip. It isn't healthy to be here all the time, focusing on what happened. Maybe Julian's right... I've been obsessed and it's unhealthy of me. We could both use some time out, some time around other people, doing new things.
She stepped into the garage, its large door sitting open. Scattered all across the floor were tools, boxes of cabinetry and relocated kitchen fixtures that Julian hadn't found space for throughout the house. Kim sighed, walking carefully around a mass of plastic pipes, and looking through the space. She hadn't spent much time in the garage yet. In time they'd go shopping for another car; they could probably fit two full-size vehicles in it with room to spare for the lawn mower and a few boxes of tools. The ceiling was made up of knotted wooden rafters, the space between them thick with spider's silk. The walls, which seemed made of thin sheets of wood, were covered in pockmarks where tools had once been hung. Rusty nails stuck out of virtually ever wooden surface in sight. The floors, smooth concrete, were stained with old paint and oil.
As she edged towards the door that would lead her back into the house, Kim caught sight of someone in the corner. Her heart jumped into her throat. “J-julian, what are you doing out here? I thought you were still in the kitchen, working on the floors. I didn't even hear you come out,” she managed with a small laugh. He had his back turned to her, and was facing the wall. He seemed to rifle through something furtively, his shoulders slumped and his shape mostly obscured by shadow. Though the garage door was open, the daylight seemed too timid to venture far. The very furthest reaches of the room, the corners, the greatest heights of the ceiling, were all blacked out with shadow.
The voice that came in reply was not Julian's.
Kim backed away, her legs going weak at the sound of a stranger's voice.
“I buried it, but it found its way back here like the savage thing it is.” The figure turned a little, giving Kim a view of its slate-grey face. A narrowed, yellow eye appraised her from the corner. The man bent forward, supporting himself on the wall of the garage as he continued in a deep wheeze. “And now you've gone and invited it back. It could've wandered lost for ages, but you had to invite it back...”
The man vanished from sight, was rapidly eaten up by the surrounding shadow. The sun moved behind the clouds, further depriving the dark garage of light. Whether the figure still lurked there within the veil of shadow Kim was uncertain. Without hesitation, she reached behind her and forced open the door, stumbling into the house just as Julian started once more into his loud hammering. She locked the door to the garage and pawed away a handful of sweat from her face.
She couldn't be entirely certain, having gotten only a brief, shadowy glance of him, however it occurred to her that the specter in the garage might have been Marshall Reed.
Chapter 8
Kim sat at the foot of her bed, knees tucked up into her chest and eyes wide. She needed to talk to someone about this, anyone. Julian wouldn't listen, however. She already knew how it would go. She'd end up causing another fight. He was far too absorbed in his renovation work to care about her hallucinations.
Chewing on her lower lip till it grew sore, she thumbed at her phone. Perhaps she could speak to Edwin. The contacts he'd given her hadn't done much except muddy the waters, but maybe he would be willing to drop by for a visit. She'd been hesitant before to tell him what she'd experienced in the house, but this time, she'd spill her guts. She'd tell him everything, and she had a hard time imagining him refusing to help her with the mystery of the property. Dakota had reached out to her, and Marshall, too. Edwin would want to know about this, would probably want to help her fulfill his late friends' wishes.
She dialed his number and drew her voice up into something presentable. She didn't want to sound like a nervous, blubbering mess and have him dismiss her outright as a paranoid city girl. She recalled the way he'd driven off after their last meeting, made nervous when pressed about the woods. Maybe, if she shared all she knew with him, he'd explain to her why he'd reacted that way.
Her gut dropped through the floor just then. A loud tone sounded, and then a pre-recorded message played, informing her that the number had been disconnected.
Kim held her breath, looking down at the blinking phone screen with tears stinging the corners of her eyes. “Disconnected?” she mumbled, sniffing back a sob. She redialed it, but the result was much the same.
She went through her contacts. She'd try anyone who would listen, anyone who'd known the Reeds and could assist her. She dialed Enid's number.
Disconnected.
Richard's number.
Disco
nnected.
Lilith's number.
Disconnected.
Kim trembled as she set aside her phone. How was it possible that all of the numbers were disconnected? Though the number she'd been given for this acquaintance, Lilith, had never worked, she'd spoken to the rest of them recently. It made no sense whatsoever, and she wondered if she hadn't been made the target of some conspiracy. Had they changed their numbers? Had something happened to all of them since she'd last spoken to them? She clawed at the bedclothes and tried not to cry. She needed to stay strong, to figure all of this out. The appearance of Marshall in the garage had put a fright in her. She was unsure whether she'd done the right thing in listening to Dakota. Perhaps turning on the Amber Light had been unwise. Maybe it'd been off, and left behind that hidden door in the cellar, for a reason.
She nibbled on a fingernail, shuddering. He said I invited 'it' back. Well, what the hell have I invited back to the house, then? A baby? No, it couldn't possibly be a baby any longer. It would be grown. But, then... Kim moistened her lips. Marshall said it wasn't a baby at all. He said that what he and Dakota had found in the woods that day was something else entirely... so, what was it, then?
Kim leered at the journal, sitting upon her nightstand. The photograph was still sticking out of it, but she couldn't stomach the thought of looking at it again. To study it once more might reveal a grotesque or frightening detail better left unseen. The longer she sat in the room, doubting her actions, the more she berated herself for having trusted Dakota's spirit. She'd been such a fool, had blindly obeyed the apparition's orders. Maybe it wasn't too late, though. Maybe, if she went downstairs now and flipped the switches back, she could stop things from progressing.
The room was dark, and the shadows hovering about her felt absolutely dense. The mood in the house had changed all right. Her heart skipped a beat. She'd flipped the switches, turned on the beacon. Something in those woods would be coming back. Or, maybe, when they'd opened the door after that series of knocks, it did come back. Kim canvassed the room slowly, looking for any trace of aberrancy. Everything was as she expected it, and this lack of anomalies almost frightened her more than the manifestation of a hideous phantom. The air felt so off, the mood so wretched, that she was made uneasy. How could the house possibly look so normal? Was there something wrong with her? Was her perception really so off? Maybe, she thought shiveringly, she truly was losing her head.
She cemented what she knew, piecing events together so that she could convince herself that she understood what was going on. The Reeds found a baby... or, they found something in the woods and brought it to this home. They lived here for years, caring for it. And then it ran off on them. That was why they never left the house; they stayed indoors in the hopes that it would come back. And when it did, they stuck it in that awful nursery in the basement. After that... things are fuzzy. Marshall claims he buried it. Maybe it escaped again, from that room down there, and he killed it. The Reeds kept all of this secret. And they stopped seeing their friends. The thing, baby, whatever, managed to break out of the grave, though. And it came back. I don't know what happened after that. All I know is that, around this time, eight years ago, the Reeds went missing.
The incessant ringing of her phone knocked her from her thoughts. Kim gulped and plucked it up off of the bed, answering at once. It was Edwin's number. “H-hello?”
“Hi, this is Edwin. How's it going?” The connection was marred by static, so that Kim had to listen hard.
“Edwin, I'm so glad it's you. I was trying to call earlier but I couldn't get through. Anyway, I was hoping that maybe you'd be able to come by today. It's urgent, please,” she blurted.
“Hi, this is Edwin. How's it going?” came the reply.
Kim stiffened. “C-can you not hear me, Edwin?” She grit her teeth, holding the phone away from her ear.
“Hi, this is Edwin. How's it going?”
“Edwin?”
“Hi, this is Edwin. How's it going?”
She stared down at her phone. In the space of a minute, the reply continued.
“Hi, this is Edwin. How's it going?”
“Hi, this is Edwin. How's it going?”
“Hi, this is Edwin. How's it going?”
Each time, there was absolutely no change in the way of delivery. It was almost like a recording was being repeated at regular intervals. After the tenth repetition, Kim hung up and cast her phone down onto the bed. Shaking terribly, she burst out of the room and made her way downstairs, where Julian was taking a bathroom break. The kitchen was in a state of utter disarray, so that she could barely make it to the basement door. Julian took to humming noisily as she began to descend the cellar stairs. Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe she'd be able to shut off the Amber Light and put an end to this. Dakota wouldn't like it, maybe, but it didn't matter.
Kim was scared now. Really, truly scared. She wasn't sure what was happening to her, whether she was going crazy or the world was falling to pieces all around her.
But she did know that she wanted it to stop.
She needed all of this to stop.
And as soon as she'd seen to shutting off the Amber Light, she'd take Julian by the arm, lead him out of the house, and the two of them would go on a nice, long trip together. There'd be no more of this sitting around the house in isolation. They'd get out, have a nice, relaxing time somewhere. And maybe they'd never come back. Julian could always write another screenplay. They could always find another house or apartment to live in. She didn't mind the thought of a downgrade. Cutting their losses and moving on from the Beacon estate was all she could think of doing.
Half-way down the basement stairs, upon flicking the lights on, she stopped dead in her tracks.
Kim brought a hand to her mouth, stifling a series of sobs riding off the back of an enormous groan.
The door to the cellar chamber, the nursery, was shut.
It'd been open last she'd seen it; stuck, in fact. Julian himself had said there'd be no closing it once it'd been opened. The hinges had been damaged. It shouldn't have been able to close without considerable trouble. Kim could see now that this wasn't the case. She rushed down the stairs, tugged with all her strength at the awkward little handle, but could not make the thing budge. She pounded on it tearfully, pressed and pulled, but the concrete door was immovable.
It was sealed, and she was as sure as she was of anything that it would remain that way.
Dakota had done this. There could be no doubt.
She'd made sure to do it before Kim could reconsider her actions and fix her mistakes.
The Amber Light was on, and there would be no turning it off.
Whatever it served to signal, whatever it'd been constructed to draw back to the estate, would come soon enough.
Chapter 9
She was upon Julian the moment he set foot outside the bathroom. Still zipping his fly, he was startled as Kim rushed up to his side, took him by the arm, and led him tearfully out into the kitchen. She was a mess, sobbing and shaking, while she took to gathering up their things. Her purse was in hand, she'd sought out his wallet, had plucked their keys from the hook on the wall and was starting for the door. “We're leaving,” she said between gasping sobs. “We need to go. Now.”
Julian arched a brow. “Babe... what's the matter now?” He had to work hard to hide the incredulity in his gaze.
Kim caught it nonetheless. “I know you don't believe me,” she began, red in the face, her cheeks streaked in hot tears, “but something is after us. Something... something is coming. And we need to get out of here. Now. We absolutely...” She took hold of his wrist and gave it a tug. Every moment that they waited there, every second spent discussing matters in the kitchen was a tiny defeat for her. “Please, Julian, let's go somewhere. Somewhere else, far away from here.”
Julian gulped. He pulled away and dusted off his hands, pacing squarely before the kitchen sink for a few moments. “What's going on with you?” he demanded. “What has y
ou spooked?”
There was too much to tell. Aside from the fact that he wouldn't believe any of it, it seemed a precious waste of time to stand around and discuss it. Every passing second was a valuable thing; each moment they hesitated allowed the thing more time to reach the house. She didn't know what it was, or where it was coming from. But when the sun set, as it would do in a few hours' time, the Amber Light would lead it back to their property. Perhaps it wouldn't make it there within the space of one night. The woods were vast. But she wasn't willing to bank on it. The more space they put between themselves and the Beacon estate, the better. “Something is after us,” she continued to repeat, motioning to the door and clutching at her purse.
“What's after us?” he asked, shaking his head. “I don't understand what's gotten into you all of a sudden.” He placed a hand to her forehead. “Are you feeling well? Did your finger get infected? What's happened to make you freak like this, babe? Did you see someone, or...” It was clear from the way his eyes widened and his face began to glisten with sweat that her behaviors were making him nervous. He'd seen her worked up several times over the past few weeks, but this was an entirely new level of terror on her part. She actually wanted to leave the house, seemed convinced that something was going to come after them if they didn't. And, though he didn't want to entertain her paranoia or egg it on, he seemed to find some merit in her pleas because he sought out his jacket and put it on. “I don't know what's going on, but if someone is after us, then you need to tell me about it.” He picked up the phone. “Before we go, do we need to call the cops?”