The thing came mere inches from his face. He heard the sniffing sound as it smelled him — first up, and then down. He felt the severe cold as it leaned in close. The thing turned toward the sewing room door, then it leaned down and close to him once more. He felt triumph from the cold, evil-smelling entity as it studied him. He knew the thing was smiling, satisfied about something.
“They are mine, Shaman, mine forever,” it said in a husky, deep voice. “You are so easy to disperse, so easy to kill. You will never make it to your gathering. Stay out!”
With the last words John felt the thing push him into the wall. It suddenly moved away, the blur of its camouflage acting as a bubble of disguise as it approached the sewing room. The screaming stopped as the thing pressed against the double doors. John’s eyes widened when he saw the oak press inward. He even heard the cracking of the thick wood. Then the doors snapped back and all of the air was sucked out of the hallway. He heard one last scream.
“You should have not followed!” came the thick, horrible voice from the sewing room. Then it was over.
John opened his eyes and saw the dress in his hands. He tried desperately to throw it off, but he had twisted it so thoroughly that it wouldn’t free itself.
Jennifer, wide eyed and in a state of terror at what John had been shouting aloud, reached out and tried to unwind the dress from Lonetree’s hands. She finally managed to remove it and tossed it across the room just as the door opened. Jason and George had been trying to get in since the moment John’s screams and shouts of warning had reached them in the hallway.
“What the hell—?”
Jennifer held up a hand. She splayed her fingers as she watched John. Finally, he reached up and ran his fingers through his long hair. He looked up and saw Jennifer.
“Where’s Gabriel and the others?”
Jennifer turned to Jason for the answer.
“He and Julie Reilly left for the Poconos. It seems Kyle Pritchard and Paul Lowell have turned up. Paul’s very dead.”
Jennifer sat on the bed and took John’s hand. “Did you learn anything?” she asked him. As the two men stepped further into the room, John turned and planted his feet firmly on the carpet. He was careful not to move his hand out of Jenny’s.
“I think so,” he said, looking into her concerned face. “I don’t think we can beat whatever’s in that house. It’s been killing for a very long time.”
“It seems the house has allowed at least Kyle Pritchard to live,” Sanborn said as he fumbled for his pipe.
“That was its plan all along,” John said. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand.
“I’m not following.”
“It’s attacking us even now. It doesn’t want us to go to Summer Place, so it’s reaching out for us.”
“And?” Cordero asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer.
Lonetree looked up past Jenny and found Cordero’s eyes.
“You know the reason. I can see it in your face.”
Sanborn removed the pipe from his mouth and looked at the man next to him as if he had suddenly grown two heads.
“Tell them what you think,” John said, holding his eyes on Cordero.
“Gabe and Julie have left. Kelly has been dragged off by Peterson and their boss, and we’re heading out in the morning to pursue information about the house.”
“Vulnerable,” John said. “It will hit us when we’re weakest, before we gather to fight it.”
“Come on, you’re speaking like a bad horror book. What are you saying?”
Cordero looked at the open door and the bright light in the hallway, grateful for the brief respite from darkness. Then he turned to the others.
“Summer Place wants us separated.”
FOURTEEN
Julie tried to answer her cell phone once again, but for the tenth time in as many minutes she failed to get a clear signal. She looked at the screen in frustration and tossed the phone into her bag.
“Goddamn dead zone out here,” she said. She watched the windshield wipers and their hypnotic rhythm as they swept the heavy rain away.
“Could you tell who was calling?” Kennedy asked. He leaned forward, trying to see through the water that covered the glass between wiper pulses.
“Jason Sanborn.” She glanced at her watch, using the dashboard lights for illumination. “It’s about four hours past his bedtime, which is worrisome in itself.”
Kennedy was worrying more about John Lonetree. If something had gone wrong during the Dream Walk and he wasn’t there, he would never be able to forgive himself. It was his experiment and things seemed to be pulling away from him. In this line of research, that could be deadly.
“Are you thinking about Lonetree?” Julie asked, turned to look at Kennedy through the green and blue reflection of the dashboard lights.
“Yes. I should have been there. This Kyle Pritchard act could have waited.”
“Act?” Julie asked, raising her left brow. “So, you do think the test broadcast was some kind of a put-up job?”
Gabriel spared the reporter a look, and quickly turned back to watch the twisting road. “No, not the ending of Kelly’s little game.”
“Just the beginning — the disappearance?” Julie asked.
“I think it may have started out as a prank, but the house one-upped Kelly and her friends, took it to the next level.”
“The house?” Julie said with a skeptical look.
“Look, if you open a doorway and allow the house into your head, it will take the advantage — it will attack.”
“You’re going off on a tangent. Either you’re advancing a theory that has yet to be discussed with UBC, or you’re holding back historical information from us. Which is it?”
Kennedy shifted in the seat. Through the heavy downpour, he saw the road sign for Bright Waters. “Jesus,” he said as they entered the town.
“Damn Jackson. Little does he know, he’s playing right into the network’s hands with this circus.” Julie leaned over the seat and brought out a camera case and a digital recorder. She started filming the ten state police cars, flashing their blue lights outside of the small constable’s office. There was still an ambulance out front, along with several news vans from Philadelphia with lights blaring. Julie saw that one of them was an affiliate station of UBC, so she stopped filming and put the camera back in its bag.
“Lieutenant Jackson is ever diligent, isn’t he?” Kennedy asked. Julie tried her cell phone again as Kennedy pulled to the curb behind a news van.
“Finally, a signal,” she said, punching numbers on the phone.
Kennedy turned off the car and watched the comings and goings of the police as they made their way from the diner across the street to the constable’s office.
“No wonder you have a signal. You have enough microwaves emanating from this little town to light up Cape Canaveral.” Kennedy opened his door and stood, letting the rain pummel his head as he watched the scene before him. He would let Jackson come to him. He needed coffee.
“Jason, what’s up?” Julie said as she opened her door to follow Kennedy.
Gabriel didn’t wait on her; he made his way through the rising water toward the brightly lit diner. A group of state policemen were standing over something on the concrete. He swallowed when he saw it was the taped outline of a man’s body. Several of the policemen looked up and eyed him with suspicion. Kennedy averted his eyes and walked into the diner.