The Lost Door (28 page)

Why wasn’t Sam trying to help him? “Ugh…” he grunted, looked up, vision unfocused. “Sam?”

Couldn’t see him. Had the boys taken him? His baby brother had nothing to with this. Why would they take him? Made no sense.

Willem struggled and managed to push himself up, took in his surroundings. “Sammy?”

The wind and birds and creek his only companions.

Standing he hobbled in the direction the car had sped off in when he heard a tiny sob. He looked around again, saw nothing. “Sam?”

Then a terrible thought came to him, and he lunged to the ledge of Willow Creek Bridge and peered over. There, lying in a heap, water trickling by, was Sam.

“Sam!” cried Willem.

He almost lost balance on his way down the embankment. Pain coursed through his body but he didn’t care. He grabbed his baby brother. “Sam!” he cried out again, tears of heartache and terror streaming down his cheeks. Sam whimpered, eyes unfocused. “Sammy!” And then they closed and his whimpering stopped. “Please wake up!” Willem began to sob. “Please!” He ran a hand through his brother’s wet hair as if trying to comfort him. He felt a gash on the back of Sam’s head. He pulled his hand back and looked at it.

Blood. A lot of it.

“No-no-no-no-no!” he kept crying, shaking his brother, trying whatever he could to wake him up.

Willem hobbled up the slope to the road and looked in both directions. No cars! What was he going to do? He could either stay here, go for home, or go for town. What would be best for Sam? He felt dizzy, unsure of himself. What to do?
Think!
There was a doctor in town. And his mother.

Elliott was at home, but what would he be able to do?

Decision made, he ran back towards town.

* * *

The death of Sam Amberson—and the boys responsible—made the front page of the River Bend Times. It wasn’t often something as tragic as a child’s death rocked the small community, but what made it even harder to digest was the fact it was done at the hands of another boy. No one thought Bobby had done it intentionally—more a case of “boys being boys”, a little spat if you will—that had ended in tragedy. David and Lilly both felt bad for the family; they knew the loss all too well.

David’s dreams had subsided for a while but never completely stopped. Now, though, they were back with a vengeance, DeMarcus in them all.
Stay away from him,
Lilly had begged him, but he knew no matter how hard he might try to keep that promise it was futile. DeMarcus would find him; of that he was certain. He would toss and turn, sleep evading him, until he would leave the comfort of his bed so as not to disturb Lilly.

Tonight he’d ended up sitting in the backyard with a cup of tea enjoying the cool breeze, the familiar smell of autumn swirling around. The seasons were changing fast this year, and the leaves had begun to darken from lush green to an assortment of reds, yellows, and oranges.

His mind wandered to Claire. Such a beautiful little girl, and he often wondered what their child would have been like had they not lost it. They’d talked of adoption, but neither seemed ready to pursue it.

Over the months they’d learned more about the Underhill’s. It wasn’t that they were bad people, but the happy-go-lucky perfect American family exterior they radiated was a façade. It’s just that Frank was rarely home and stuck at the base, always coming in late. Jeanine and Claire, at least as far as David could tell, rarely saw him. While it wasn’t obvious to the casual observer, David and Lilly knew Frank and Jeanine were having problems because, on too many occasions, they’d asked them to watch Claire. They were happy to do so because it gave them the opportunity to plug a hole in their lives—to play parents. At first it was infrequent then became something they did several times a week. And while it wasn’t their place to say anything, both David and Lilly suspected Jeanine was having an affair.

That family is going to break one day,
Lilly said matter-of-fact one night.
Mark my words.
David didn’t doubt it.

The buzzing started gradually, and it brought back his dream. The dark dream. The backyard flashed a blue strobe light as the buzzing increased to a near deafening volume. And suddenly it was silent, so silent David imagined it must be what death sounded like. He sensed a presence, turned, and sitting in a second chair was DeMarcus.

His head was turned toward David, that everlasting smile on his face. His hands grasped the armrests of the chair. He looked comfortable, lounging. “You didn’t bring her to me, David.” DeMarcus looked around the yard in an unnatural and damn unsettling head turn. “I’m disappointed.”

“Why?”

“What transpires from this moment on will resonate throughout everything.” DeMarcus turned back. “You have a choice to make,” he said and tapped his temple. “There is a girl that needs your help.”

The buzzing increased, the blue strobe flickered. David looked around and caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window, yet much older and frail.

Is that me?
he wondered.

“We’re all reflections of each other.” DeMarcus’ eyes focused elsewhere. “She’s going down the up staircase.”

“Who?”

DeMarcus’ smile widened. “She sees the girl in the photograph.” He looked again to David. “Now she’s screaming. They’re both screaming.”

The buzz turned to screams, and then the world came crashing back. The night sounds, the autumn breeze.

At first he thought he had been dreaming, had fallen asleep in his chair, but then he heard Jeanine screaming next-door, panicked.

David leapt up just as the light in the bedroom he shared with Lilly turned on. He rushed across the dew-covered grass to the Underhill’s back door and banged on it.

“Mrs. Underhill? Mrs. Underhill! It’s David! Are you alright?” He banged on the glass again.

Lilly came out the back door in her robe. “David! What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a shake of his head. He knocked again, ready to throw his shoulder against the door, when Jeanine opened it.

“Claire’s gone!”

David said, “Wh—what? Where’s Frank?”

“Still at work, I think!”

“Call the police,” he instructed and ran past.

He assumed Claire’s room was upstairs, took the steps two at a time. When he reached the top he spotted it and burst through. A few toys were scattered about but most were put away all nice and neat. Claire’s bed was empty. He looked under it and in the closet. Nothing. The window was open, went to it and looked out. The screen window was intact and it was unlikely it had been tampered with. He searched the rest of the upstairs with quick glances calling out Claire’s name.

He nearly collided with Jeanine at the bottom of the stairs. “What happened?” he asked.

“I don’t know!” she screamed. “I thought I heard something and went to check on her and she was gone!”

Lilly asked, “Is it possible she got out on her own?”

“I don’t think so. She’s only three!”

“Were the doors locked?”

“Yes!”

She’s going down the up staircase.
DeMarcus’ words echoed in his ear, and he suddenly knew who took her, but where?

Lilly.

Sirens in the distance.

Why would he take Claire?

To ensure you come,
he told himself.

The police were at the door a minute later, and David and Lilly stepped away so they could do their job.

“The poor girl,” Lilly said. “Do you think it was Frank?”

He shook his head. “DeMarcus.”

Lilly looked at him, shocked.

“He came to me again.”

“David… you promised me you’d stay away from him.”

“It’s kind of hard when he just appears.” Her brow furrowed, so he told her what happened earlier. “We just need to find him.”

“I’ll go,” she said.

“Where? You’re not going anywhere by yourself.”

“He wants me.”

“But…”

“He’s using you, David. Don’t you see that? He can’t get to me directly so he’s using you and now Claire to get to me.”

“If true then more reason for me to go.”

“While I appreciate your chivalry we don’t have time for it. Claire’s life is very much in danger.”

“Then tell me where he went.”

He stared her down, and her lips pursed. “I have to show you. You’ll never find it alone.” He opened his mouth to argue and she gave him a look so fierce he shut it.

They slipped out the back while the police talked to Jeanine. They changed for the cool night, jumped in their car, and headed out.

“So where are we headed?” asked David.

“South on Highway 49.”

They drove in silence, the gloomy darkness trying to seep in. A comment Lilly made earlier came to him. “What did you mean when you said he can’t get to you directly”?

“I think he’s projecting himself. That’s how he can seemingly appear and vanish to you. His physical body is trapped and he’s unable to enter this plane, though whether by choice or not I don’t know.”

“But why me?”

“Because I’d reject him; he wouldn’t be able to influence me. Coming through you is the next best thing. Just keep going until I tell you,” Lilly instructed.

The urgency was suffocatingly muggy. David felt sweat on his brow. Lilly kept her focus out the window, eyes whipping around, taking in everything. Finally, she piped up. “Turn left up ahead. There’s a road and it comes up quick.”

He saw the drive and turned down it. The road wound around going deep into the woods.

David asked, “How far?”

“I don’t remember. A ways.”

“To what?”

“The cabin you saw.”

David glanced at his wife who stared out the window. He wished he knew what she was thinking and feeling, but her expression was blank.

Something caught his eye—a reflection—and David stopped the car. He looked where he thought he saw it. A rusted street sign stood in the shadows: Pine and Oak. Pine seemed to have been a street at one point, the concrete cracked and long forgotten, while Oak crossed it. Unless you knew what you were looking for Oak would be easy to miss. A pair of boulders blocked the old road. He drove on.

They rounded a hill then went up another. David hit the brakes and slid to a stop. Down in the valley a blue glow pulsed, similar to the one he’d experienced in his yard. They stepped out, and Lilly led the way down the hill, determination in her stride.

The blue light looked like TV static, and in it the shimmering image of a cabin. The buzz David had heard when DeMarcus visited was present.

“What is this?” David mumbled.

“This is the entrance. Some call it the waiting room, others the room with a view, yet they are one and the same. A pocket between. The thing is you shouldn’t be able to see it; it’s supposed to be hidden.”

“Well I see it, and if I’m being honest it’s scaring the hell out of me.”

Lilly turned to him. Was that fear in her eyes? “I should do this alone. There’s no telling what DeMarcus will do.”

David shook his head. “No. I’m not leaving your side, not for a minute. So how do we do this? Just… walk in?”

“No,” said Lilly.

She took a step towards the blue static, closed her eyes, and spread her arms. After a time David thought nothing would happen, but then a deep bass echoed as a halo exploded outward erasing the deafening buzz, and the world was suddenly silent. The light dissipated, and the cabin stood there as if it had always been. Lilly relaxed and opened her eyes. “Ready?”

“Yes,” David said, and approached the cabin.

* * *

It was a single square wooden room, one Lilly had never seen before. A worn couch was pushed against one faded and chipped lime-green wall. In the center was a wooden straight-backed chair and sitting on it was DeMarcus. A teary-eyed Claire was on his lap, and she held a ragged hand crafted doll missing a button eye. Off to the side stood another man, this one in a red cap.

DeMarcus’ stared at Lilly, love and lust in his eye. The strangest thing though, the thing that gave her chills, is that he looked the same as when she’d last seen him. She’d aged over fifteen years since her arrival, yet here he was, looking exactly as she remembered him.

“Who’s that?” Lilly asked, pointing to the strange man.

“An associate friend. I’m so happy you recovered my love,” he said smoothly.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“For you.” That’s what she expected. “I’ve claimed the empire and have come to bring you back.”

Her parents had never signaled her or given her any indication it was possible to return, so as far as she knew it wasn’t possible. “Impossible. If there was a way I’d know.”

“Do you really think your parents would have sent you here without a way to retrieve you?”

Her foster parents may have known, but if they had that information they took it to the grave with them. She figured she was here until it was her time to pass on.