The House of Wood (17 page)

For the next fifteen minutes,
the two of them sat idly talking about everything except the
subject that Rachel knew would come around again. She was trying as
hard as she could to avoid it, but it hung between them like a foul
stench.

“David, about my problem, I
-”

“Please, don't feel like you
have to continue. We can just enjoy the meal and talk about other
things if you want.”

She thought about it for a
moment. “Is that what you think we should do?”

“It’s not about what I want, or
think. It's you that has to relive the memories. The pain, the
feelings, all of it. Memories can be harder than living it the
first time. But remember, we’re here for your benefit. As hard as
it is to face your fears, if you tackle them head-on, it can be a
very rewarding experience. Talking can set you free.”

“Is that what you did?” she
asked. “I mean, when your ex passed away.”

“Yes.”

As they finished off their main
course, she thought about whether she could continue or not. Last
time she tried any kind of therapy, it ended up a disaster and she
never went back. David seemed so certain that it would help her.
She believed his words. One of the hardest parts was over, talking
about the kiss with Justin. Sometimes, she could still taste him.
Smell him. Feel his cold breath on her neck. He was the reason no
one ever got close to her. Now here she was again, allowing someone
to get close. Despite the terror from that night, it came down to
one factor; she was afraid of getting her heart broken again. That
had affected her more than anything.

If she continued her tale,
there was no guarantee that she would be able to finish it. The
worst was yet to come. The man opposite her may have read up on her
case, but he had no idea of the horrors that she was about to tell
him. She took a deep breath.

“The rain pelted at me,” she
started.

David crossed his hands in his
lap, focusing all his attention on her. “Go on.”

“I ran headlong in to the
woods, the heavy drops slapping against the leaves as they lashed
down from the sky. With the trees and the dense black clouds that
had slid overhead, I could barely see a hand in front of my face,
let alone anything else…”

Chapter
Seventeen

Every now and then a crack of
moonlight peeked through the clouds. I used whatever light there
was as best as I could to navigate a route around the hidden
obstacles; trees, roots all waiting like macabre ghouls to delay my
escape. I tried to block out the image of my dead friends,
concentrating on getting away, moving faster than I ever had in my
life. The terror propelled me forwards. I felt my lungs could burst
at any minute. Running all night wasn’t an option.

An unseen branch made me trip.
I stumbled several feet, before crashing with a dull thud into a
mammoth tree trunk. I screamed, bouncing off and landing in a heap
on the floor. The pain in my shoulder was overwhelming.

I dragged myself through the
mud and settled between the gaps of a knarled old trunk. Cradling
my arm, I sucked some much needed air in to my lungs. Every breath
I took, a stabbing pain shot down my arm; I was pretty sure my
shoulder was dislocated.

My brain couldn’t focus, as my
body was racked with trembles. Not from the damp night air, but
from the fear. I had no idea what to do. My instincts screamed at
me to run. But I couldn’t. My arm throbbed every time I moved the
slightest inch. Then there was
him
. Justin
was out there somewhere, hiding, hunting me like an animal through
the trees. I could feel him; see his face in my mind’s eye. That
face, twisted and satanic, was carved behind my eye lids. He had
been enjoying it. I had seen it in his eyes. What’d happened to
him? I wondered, tears finally forming. Had he been possessed? If
so, by who, or what? He had been so sweet and gentle. Surely a
person couldn’t act that way if deep inside them they’re psychotic.
Could they? The night was supposed to have been so special. A
dream. Instead, it had turned in to a nightmare. One I didn’t know
how to wake up from.

I let the tears fall, the last
of my courage evaporating from my battered body. The reek of decay
from the rotten leaves filled my nostrils, as I huddled alone
beneath the branches. With my chin tucked between my knees, I
rocked back and forth. It was the smell of death. As long as I
live, I’ll never forget that stench. The place is riddled with
it.

I don’t know how long the sobs
lasted. I didn’t dare cry too hard in case he crept up on me. My
ears listened for the slightest sound of him being near; a broken
twig, breathing, that maniacal laughter. Anything. But there was
nothing. Maybe he had given up? I prayed to God that he had.

Wiping my eyes, I tried to
stand. My shoulder exploded in to excruciating pain, as I moved.
Vomit bubbled up my throat. Like molten lava, it erupted from my
mouth, choking me at the same time. I let it come. In a way it was
like a cleansing of my soul. My shoulder still hurt, but my
thoughts seemed more coherent. It was as if the pain had focussed
my mind, cleared away the fog of terror smothering it. I knew I had
to do something.

Slowly I crept deeper in to the
woods, my eyes and ears alert to any approaching danger. It was
silent. Not a thing moved. It was as if the woods were watching;
waiting for something to happen. It felt oppressive. Suffocating. I
could feel my pulse quickening, my head becoming fuzzy. I stopped
to compose myself again.

A sudden sound to my left
caused me to jerk my head around. There was nothing. I stood rooted
to the spot. My eyes wide.

Then again behind me.

Nothing.

“Who’s there?”

No answer.

“Come out, you sick bastard,” I
spat, my body shaking. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Still there was no answer. Was
it the fear, I wondered, making me hear things? I didn’t know, but
I also knew it was dangerous to stay in one spot for too long.

I moved deeper in to the woods
with no plan and no idea which direction I was heading. I had this
idea that if I kept moving forward, I would stumble across a farm,
a town, something that would mean I was safe. But deep down, I knew
it was an impossible task in the scarce moonlight under the trees.
Still I moved forward.

It didn’t take me long to reach
a small clearing. A rusted iron fence ringed the edges. It was no
larger than two body widths. I took a sharp gasp, as the clouds
parted, illuminating the sight.

It was a graveyard. Four
headstones stared back at me, ravaged by time. The two furthest
away dwarfed the two smaller gravestones closest to the entrance.
The weather and plant life had eaten in to the granite, but still
they stood. Reminders of the dead. My curiosity had got the better
of me, long before I realised I had walked through the gap where
the iron gate would have once stood.

I don’t know what possessed me
to go in there. I guess it was because it was a strange sight, four
simple graves sitting in the middle of dense woodland. It was
surreal.

My feet drifted forward,
towards the nearest grave. My hand trembled, as I rested it on the
headstone.

Here layeth Lilly McCain.
Beloved daughter of Hiram and Rose McCain. Now and forever an
angel.

My eyes followed the curves of
the words carved in to the stone before moving to the next one.

Here layeth Jacob McCain.
Beloved son of Hiram and Rose McCain.

Now and forever an angel.

My brain whirled. It was the
graves of the two McCain children. The other two must have been the
parents. I couldn’t believe it. Sadness overwhelmed me. They had
died at the hands of a madman. Did their spirits still remain? I
wondered. It wasn’t until then that I realised the evil that
infested the building looming in the distance. It had permeated the
very ground, waiting for its next victim. I was determined it
wouldn’t be me.

I turned to leave. Staring
straight at me was a blackbird, sitting on the fence.

My eyes followed it, as it
unfurled its wings and hopped on to an overhanging branch. It sat
there, its black eyes looking down on me. I narrowed my gaze,
bewildered by the sight. I felt like I was drifting through a
dream. I didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t. I couldn’t take
my eyes away from it. All the pain and terror I had felt was gone,
lost in the past. I felt like I was sinking. Was this what it felt
like to be hypnotized? I mused. I could’ve easily lost myself in
those black, void like eyes.

As I stood there, a faint
humming began to grow louder in the distance.

My eyes still fixed on the
bird.

Louder.

I couldn't move.

Something was getting
closer.

It cawed, flapped its wings,
pushing itself into the air.

The road!

I ran as fast as I could in the
direction of the car coming along the old track at the bottom of
the hill. I was saved.

***

I don't know what propelled me
forward down the hill. Twigs scratched at my face as I ran. Several
times, I lost my footing, slipping through the mix of dead leaves
and mud. My legs were getting heavier, caked with slime from each
time that I fell over. The pain in my shoulder was almost
unbearable. But it didn't matter. I was saved. Why hadn't I thought
of the road sooner?

As I stumbled to the bottom of
the hill, the rain had turned the road into a river. It was
torrential now. The drops were hitting the tarmac so hard, it gave
the illusion that the rain was going up rather than coming down. I
could hear the car coming around the bend. It would be here in a
second, I hoped.

I never even considered how I
would stop it. The lights appeared around the corner, coming
straight at me. It was moving fast. I didn't stop to think, as I
ran into the middle of the road, waving my arms around like a crazy
fan at a rock concert. It didn't seem to stop. I waved harder. They
were getting closer. I shut my eyes, wrapping my arms around me for
protection. This is it. After everything that had happened, I was
going to be mowed down by a car.

The screeching filled my ears,
as the tires screamed the car around me, trying as hard as they
could to gain a firm grip of the slippery surface beneath them. I
held my breath, waiting for the impact. It never came.

As I opened my eyes, I saw the
car was actually a small truck. The driver door open.

“What in the blazes do ya think
you're doin’?” the old man shouted at me. “Ya could’ve got yaself
killed.”

I ran straight to him. The
tension built up inside of me behind the dam I had erected, finally
released the pressure, as I flung myself at him. Sobs shook my
body.

“Hey now, miss. What’s wrong?
What ya doing out here this late at night anyhows?”

“The house…My
friends…Dead…He…Justin.” The words wouldn’t form sentences. I
couldn’t think straight. Apparently it happens a lot in stressful
situations. All I could do was cry into his chest.

“Now, now miss, calm down.” The
old guy’s grizzled hands took me firmly by the shoulders. I winced
as he pressed too hard on my dislocated joint. He looked straight
into my face. He was full of concern. “I think we best get ya in
the truck before ya catch your death o’ cold.”

I allowed him to lead me back
to his truck. He opened the passenger door, sat me in the seat and
then closed me inside. The rain tapped a drum beat on the roof. It
was coming down so hard, I couldn't see anything out of the
windows. We may as well have been underwater. I could feel my
eyelids becoming heavy. The heat in the compartment mixed with the
sound on the roof was enough to send anyone to sleep. I wanted to
let it take me.

The driver’s door flew
open.

“I’m goin’ to get ya to a
hospital,” the old man said. “We ain't far from town. Why, you're
lucky my wife forgot the dog food, or you’d be-“

The words stopped. I looked at
my saviour. He just stood there, his eyes gradually growing wider.
He went to say something. All that came out of his mouth, was a
bubbling, frothy torrent of blood. I stared, my mind too tired to
understand what was going on.

“Hello, Rachel,” Justin said,
pulling the dead body out of the way. A bloodied knife dripped onto
the fabric of the driver’s seat. “You’ve been a very naughty girl.
I'm going to have to punish you.”

I screamed.

As I scrambled for the door, he
thrust at my face with a knife. A burning sting slashed its way
along my cheek, as the tip broke through the surface. I didn't stop
to take any notice.

The door flew open and I bolted
for the woods. The entire time he was laughing.

“Come on, Rachel. We're just
having fun. You can run all you like. I know this place better than
anyone and there's nowhere you can hide.”

The words echoed in my ears, as
I ran headlong back into the dark.

***

I knew he was following me, his
relentless cackle filtering through the sound of the rain hitting
the foliage. I wanted it to end. Nothing in my life had ever seemed
so endless. It was as if I was in a place where time moved
backwards, rather than forwards. My body wanted to give in. But I
couldn't. How could I let him take me now, knowing what he had
done. People had to know the truth.

All I could think about was the
dead. First Tim, then Chelsea. And now that poor old man. His face,
as he realised he was dying, kept popping into my vision. It had to
end.

Before I realised it, the trees
overhead had cleared. I had run so fast, I hadn’t realised what
direction, or for how long I had been running. The silent house sat
in front of me. I had come full circle back up the hill. It was as
if it had drawn me to it. The dark windows seemed even more
menacing than they had when I first arrived. It felt as though they
were laughing at me, mocking me for my stupidity. There was no
escaping this place. Better to face the inevitable.