Borderland Page 10

  Donald stepped forward, waiting for the lamenting to become whispering. “Travis, you’ve done well, but there is more to do. Your work is not complete until you conquer Jake. You must go back,”

  “But Donald, you don’t understand,” trying to explain, “I can’t fight him alone. He’s too powerful for me.”

  “Be patient. You will have our help, but only during the final battle. That is the way of our world.”

  Frustrated, “And what do I do until then?”

  “Harry will help you.”

  “He’s weak, Donald. You know that!”

  “I know. But, we cannot change destiny. We can only claim it.”

  Looking at him, Travis understood the difficulty of the situation and its importance. Because this is what the spirit saviors were called upon to do-help their human brothers and sisters in time of need, especially when demented spirits like Jake escaped and came back to earth, wreaking havoc, casting blame, and seeking revenge in the aftermath of death.

  “You have others who will help you.”

  “Who?”

  “The one they call Tom…a good man. He’ll help too.”

  “Does he have the power?” The entire throng of spirit saviors asked in unison, referring to the sixth sense. They understood that some humans have the ability to use their third eye to see them while others cannot.

  Donald responded, “Yes, he does. He lost someone very dear; her name is Jenny. She’ll come to warn him of the danger when necessary, but it’s time for us to go back now.”

  Addressing Travis, “Best for you to work alone for the time being.”

  “But how will I summon you when it’s time?”

  “We’ll be watching,” assuring him. “Go now. You have work to do.”

  Understanding that demonic spirits can only come back to earth for a very limited time before receding auras would eventually fade and disappear, Donald also knew the chance of reclaiming earthly life would then be gone forever. That was the rule of Borderland…redemption was not part of a condemned soul’s existence.

  He worried for Logan’s safety too. The next few days would be critical. Silently he offered up a prayer.

  The spirit group gathered around, seeing the anguish on their leader’s face. They raised their arms as one in the steely glint of the clear moonlight and dissolved into the secure haven of their world.

  As the outline of Stonehenge stood stark and bleak, not a sound or motion belied the flurry of activity that had just occurred there minutes ago. If the megaliths could talk, they would burst forth with a litany of sound, adding to the spiritual markings already left behind…but all was quiet. Crossover complete, visual imprint dimming, only the darkness and solitude of the night told the story, the story that had no ending… yet.

  * * * * *

  Harry was dreaming again, chased by a monster, trying to outrun it, but afraid to look back and see if the ghoul was closing in. His breathing came in short bursts; his feet were kicking so hard that all the covers were collapsed in a heap at the bottom of the bed. All the tossing and turning and head shaking finally shoved the pillow off the bed, but what finally woke him was a touch on his back.

  A bloodcurdling scream filled the stagnant air in the motel room. His eyes flew open when he realized that his throat was responsible for the sound. Scanning the room, he saw… nothing.

  “What the hell!” He rubbed his eyes, allowing time to adjust to the darkness, and glanced around the room again…nothing unusual.

  Must have been a bad dream. Well, since I’m awake I’ll get a drink of water. He let out a sigh.

  But as he sat up in bed, out of the corner of his eye, he detected something…a slight movement… a figure? He wasn’t sure until he jerked his head around just in time to see a filmy outline, a shape that looked human, but was just beginning to fade. Frowning, he realized that what he had experienced during sleep was not entirely a dream and concern deepened when it dawned on him whom it was and just how dangerous this Jake creature could be.

  Trying to scare me off, that’s for sure. Wonder what his next step will be?

  Making his way to the bathroom, “You bastard, you think you can scare me,” he muttered. Bravado exterior set in place, he was waging a war with inner turmoil, attempting to get it under control.

  He placed his hands on the counter, steadied himself while staring in the mirror and thought, I look terrible! My face is white as a ghost!

  He could feel his heart racing and knew he needed to calm down. Maybe the water will help. As he picked up a glass and saw his hands shaking. And then, while filling the container, he felt the presence again. Unwilling to give in to his fear, ignoring it, continuing to watch the flowing water, he purposely did not look in that direction.

  But, before taking a drink, the cup flew out of his hands and crashed against the wall, sending shards spraying across the floor. Jumping, he felt a stab of pain and looked down to see blood trickling on the floor and a small piece of the glass protruding from the side of his foot.

  At the same time, a low growl emanated from the tiny room, building in intensity until it felt like the entire bathroom was vibrating. Harry noticed the hair on his arms bristle as the sound changed to a malicious, guttural laugh, so inhuman and terrifying that anxiety grew, threatening to turn into terror.

  Stop! This is just what he wants. He wants me to be afraid. And, just as quickly as it grew, fear receded with the revelation…He WANTS me to be afraid, to cower, to leave… to not be there when Logan needs help.

  He pulled the glass from his foot and winced in pain while grabbing for a towel to dab at the cut. He found a bandage that someone had generously left in the medicine cabinet, quickly unwrapped it and covered the gash.

  The laugh reverberated around the room, and to his dismay, he began backing up towards the corner behind the door, wanting to cower there, wishing for an end to his plight.

  Finally, disgusted at the feeling of panic, he threw the towel on the counter and rushed into the bedroom, hoping to escape the horrifying sound.

  The laugh grew louder, causing the walls to resonate with hateful intent.

  Reeling, he hurriedly threw on some clothes, grabbed a jacket, and limped from the room.

  Slamming the door, he ran out into the parking lot, stood there for a while to catch his breath and calm the beating of his heart.

  With trepidation, he looked back and saw something even more frightening--his room was aglow with throbbing light, alive with amoral energy. In stark contrast, the other rooms were quiet and even the motel office appeared unlit.

  Walking away, quickening his pace, he approached the office and peered in the window, hoping to see someone who might be a witness to the lights coming from his room.

  Glad someone can sleep tonight, he thought, disheartened when he noticed both the owners’ apartment and the office were dark and motionless. Shivering from the autumn cool, he thrust his hands in his jacket pockets.

  Guess I’ll have to deal with this myself. He walked away, self-absorbed. ‘Think white’--the protective ‘white’ of childhood, the mantra his mother always talked about-- kept playing through his mind.

  * * * * *

  Someone else couldn’t sleep that night and was watching Harry as he walked through the parking lot. Peering out the office window, Lou only saw him approach, the lights no longer evident.

  Hmm, wonder why he’s up and walking around in the middle of the night?

  As Harry came closer, Lou stepped back into the darkness to avoid being seen.

  He’s looking in the window! Maybe I should let him know I’m awake. Maybe he wants some company. Maybe he needs some time alone. Or, maybe I need to keep an eye on him. He might be a peeping Tom!

  Yeah, not a bad idea, Lou decided as he walked into the kitchen to fix a sandwich…watch this guy, see what he’s up to.

  * * * * *

  In the motel room Jake let out an unholy roar, delighted at the distrust developing against Harry.


  This is too good!

  Gloating, he began to realize how he could use this to his advantage. If people are suspicious, everyone will blame Harry for anything I do!

  A rumble of wicked laughter filled the tiny space, bouncing off the walls, circling the room in a haphazard display of malice. An eerie glow of lights bounced around, darting back and forth like satanic fireflies dancing in the darkness.

  Only a few miles away, someone else slept fitfully, unmindful of all that was taking place at the motel.

  * * * * *

  Early sunlight drifted into the bedroom through the light-colored blinds. Logan’s eyes flew open as she tried to adjust to the familiar but neglected surroundings of the room. It took longer for her brain to comprehend where she was and what she was doing there, but she finally recognized her parents’ room. It gave her some comfort and security, even though she slept the entire night in restless exhaustion, her body stiff from the tension of the day before.

  She remembered collapsing on the bed last night, not even brushing her teeth or changing into a nightgown. “Yuck!” Tasting the stale breath in her mouth, stretching and yawning, she noticed her jeans, grimy from the hike in the park. What I need is a good, hot shower.

  Slowly getting out of bed and making her way to the bathroom, the whole time going over what happened yesterday.

  While waiting for the water to heat up, tears welled up in her eyes, thinking of Carl.

  Steam built up on the mirror over the sink, and if she had looked, Logan might have seen a shape just barely visible in the haze. But in her preoccupation with the events from yesterday, she was oblivious to her surroundings. All she could think about was seeing Jake, in her car and in the park, and Carl.

  Beginning to unwind, “Ah, this feels better.”

  She tried to push everything out of her mind except the calming effects of the shower. Fog surrounded her, lifting from her feet, encompassing her body, bathing her in soothing physical warmth, and shielding her from a visual nightmare composing in the close quarters.

  Concentrating, rubbing soap all over the hot washcloth, and feeling herself relax, she started with her face, washing away grime, melting away creases of worry.

  Hidden in the mist, he watched, taking no pleasure in seeing a beautiful naked female body. In his human incarnation, Jake might have been attracted to her, but now hate was his response, not desire.

  Completing her shower, she turned off the water and reached through the curtain for a towel.

  But while groping around, thrust her hand into a cold spot. Hmm, that’s strange… cold. She grappled with the insight as she searched for the towel.

  Suddenly, frozen in place, finding the towel and clutching it tightly, she stood in the enclosure and knew she was not alone. She brought it into the tub, wrapped her body in the soft, nubby warmth, and slowly slid open the curtain, eyes squeezed shut, afraid she might see what was in the room with her.

  Trembling, unable to climb out, she forced herself to peer out of the enclosure, and through the icy fog, saw a ghostly form. She jumped back against the wall, pure fright on her face. Clouds of steam mingled with the translucent shape, giving an impression of a gathering of entities floating around the room, bobbing, moving closer, scurrying away, and teasing their victim.

  “Who are you?”

  No response from the mist.

  Pressing hard against the shower wall, palms splayed, “Who’s there?”

  Again, there was no answer.

  Shivering more from fright than from the cold, whispering two last questions, “Who are you and what do you want?”

  Silence followed, stretching into an eternity.

  “YOU WILL DIE,” a voice growled. Each word filled the room with doom.

  Logan gasped. Eyelids fluttered as she slid to the floor of the tub enclosure. Her heart beat wildly, made even louder by the unearthly quiet in the room following the announcement.

  For a long time she sat, legs drawn up to her chest, and waited until her heart rate slowed and breathing became more regular.

  With timid hands, she finally gathered enough courage to look into the room again. She couldn’t distinguish any definitive shapes now, only the receding wisps of clouds, curling up, dissipating quickly. She wrapped her arms tighter around her chest, protecting against the mounting terror. But the room was still, giving back nothing, no clue as to what just happened.

  Maybe my imagination again, she suggested …but, not really. I know who was in the bathroom… and he means to harm me!

  Rising up, she climbed out, emerged from the bathroom and walked down the hallway, tracking from left to right, trying to detect anything.

  Nothing in the hall, nothing in the living room, but she cringed, her whole body quivering, as she remembered the chilling voice. It was Jake Turner…no doubt.

  Climbing into bed, cowering under the blanket, she could not get the cold out of her body…and nothing could shake the realization that she was being haunted.

  * * * * *

  Leaves fell as fast as Lou could rake them. He knew it was an impossible task but it kept his mind occupied for the time being.

  Betty stood in the doorway of the office, listening to him mumble and grumble, “Don’t act like you enjoy it so much.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” waving his hand in dismissal.

  “I have lunch ready and I’m sure you wouldn’t mind a break.”

  He leaned the rake against the side of the building, preparing to go inside, when they both noticed Harry Parker leaving his room.

  In a low voice, Betty admonished, “Don’t stare!”

  “Something’s going on. Not sure what, but I’m concerned.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, last night I saw him staring in our window.”

  “What! Did you confront him?”

  Putting his hand up, a warning to lower her voice, attempting to clarify that he didn’t consider Harry a peeping tom, “No, wait a minute. I watched for a while and he didn’t really come up that close to the window; it was like he had second thoughts or something. Anyway, he left and didn’t come back until early this morning.”

  She considered this, “Well, maybe he was just wondering if anyone was awake…he couldn’t sleep and wanted company.”

  “Could be,” answering slowly, “but he sure looked suspicious-like he didn’t want to be seen.”

  Throwing up her hands and having the final word, “Hey, we’re acting paranoid! Besides we don’t even know him! Maybe he was hoping to find someone awake…join him for a walk.” She turned towards the office and walked away.

  Lou followed, looking back one more time to see Harry locking the door to his room.

  Observing, they both saw him stop in front of the unit and glance around like he wasn’t sure what to do next, acting like someone was watching. They started to walk inside but noticed him staring at the window of his room.

  Then he grabbed his chest, stumbled back, and collapsed on the sidewalk.

  Horrified, they stood there in stunned silence. A few seconds went by until reality hit, both rushing to his aid.

  Approaching the still form, they could tell he was conscious, but lying in an awkward position with his right arm tucked under his body and both legs spread-eagled.

  Arriving first, Betty bent over to check on him.

  “A face…I saw a face in the window,” he whispered.

  Lou leaned over, straining to hear and looking confused, “What did he say?”

  “He said something about a face. He saw a face in the window.”

  They both stared at the window and couldn’t see anything.

  “Must be delirious. I don’t see anything.”

  Turning her attention to Harry, she glanced down and noticed he had lapsed into unconsciousness.

  “Better call an ambulance,” she implored Lou.

  He hurried to the office to make the phone call while she cared for Harry, looking at the window, shaking her head.


  Poor guy. Maybe he’s sick…having hallucinations. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t sleep last night. But…why did he come here? And, why did he leave his room in the middle of the night?

  She looked over at his car…Indiana license plate, Indianapolis number, not unusual. Being so close to Brown County, lots of people come down here to enjoy the fall colors. Nothing strange about that, she thought.

  Still…Lou was right. This guy’s been acting a little strange since he got here.

  Why, I saw him at the gas station yesterday when Carl had that horrible accident!

  Oh, that’s silly! Of course people were gathered around… a tragic accident…everyone was curious. He probably saw the commotion and wondered what was going on… just inquisitive like the rest of us.

  She placed her hand on his chest…breathing shallow…sounds like he’s having trouble, very erratic…the way he clutched his chest.

  I wonder if he’s having a heart attack?

  I wish the paramedics would get here! Why didn’t I learn CPR when I had the chance!

  Worry mounting, she heard the siren in the distance and glanced up in time to see the ambulance round the corner, heading for the motel. It seemed like an eternity, but the fire station was only a block away, and Lou hadn’t even made it back to her side yet.

  Relief flooded through her, seeing him scurrying back from the office.

  At the same time the EMT knelt down beside her. Opening his case, he began the preparations for medical assistance, “What happened?”

  “We don’t know,” Lou answered. “All we know is he grabbed his chest and keeled over.”

  Another man helped Betty up and out of the way, bent down, and checked for a pulse. He then realized Harry had stopped breathing and signaled the other EMT to start CPR. The ambulance driver came over with a stretcher as Lou and Betty stood by, shocked by the realization that Harry was in cardiac arrest. Finally, the driver motioned to Lou and the two of them slid the stretcher under him, hoisted it up, and made their way to the ambulance while the two paramedics continued performing CPR.