House of Dark Shadows (6 page)

Dad forced a smile. “Just old rumors,” he said. “Thank you for looking into this for us. I'll be back.” He strode for the door.

Xander's feet felt like cement. He didn't like that a house he already thought had problems also had a gruesome history. He knew it shouldn't have surprised him. Every haunted house in every movie he had ever seen got that way by some tragic event in the past. He wanted to ask the woman what else she knew, but his dad had already pushed through the door. He nodded at her inquisitive look and hustled to catch up.

CHAPTER
twelve

MONDAY, 11:27 P.M.

“It
is
haunted.”

Night again. The same swath of lamplight stole through the curtains. The same parental breathing. That
tick tick tick
lip sound.

“What do you mean?” David squirmed under the covers.

“That toy you found? The lightsaber? It belonged to a little boy. His father killed the whole family.”

David's eyes got huge, then flickered as he thought about that.

“It's like
The Shining
,” Xander continued. “The hotel drove the dad crazy.”

“How do you know?”

“I saw the movie.”

“No. How do you know about the family, the dad who killed them?”

“The real estate lady told us. They never found any of them.”

“And it's
haunted
?”

“Has to be. Look, weird things were happening there and—”

“What weird things?”

Xander hadn't told David everything. “Just some stuff.

But I told you I got a bad feeling about it, then we find out about this murder.” He emphasized it: “A
triple
murder and suicide. A guy
slaughtered
his own family. How awful is that?”

“
Slaughtered
? What'd he do?”

“I'm sure it was something bloody and grotesque. You don't go out of your mind and keep it neat.”

Xander could almost see the vivid images bouncing around David's head.

“What do we do?” David asked.

Good question.

“Do you still want to move into that house?”

“Not if it's haunted!”

“Shhhh.” Against reason, Xander still felt the
thrill
he had experienced at the house. That sense of adventure, that he was privy to some kind of secret knowledge. He imagined finding another house, one without a history or ghosts. Yeah, he'd sleep better at night, but he'd be bored out of his mind during the day. Especially in Pinedale.

“Look,” Xander said. “Let's just keep our eyes open, be really watchful. If it gets dangerous, we'll go nuts—you know, scream and throw a fit or something—to get everybody out.”

“I can do that.” David smiled, but his eyes said he was still worried. 9

The next day, they looked at more properties, but their hearts weren't in the search, and they saw nothing they liked.

The following day, Wednesday, Mr. King pulled to the curb in front of Tall Pines Park. The boys, Toria, and Mom had staked a claim at one of the picnic tables. They'd walked from the motel to the park, stopping at a burger joint on the way. Xander and David had already devoured their fries, but Mom had made them wait for their cheeseburgers until Dad showed up.

Their father did a sort of half-skip across the grass. His smile showed where Toria and David got their dimples; Mom and Xander had radiant smiles without them—at least that's what Mom said.

Dad stopped at the head of the table. “Well,” he said, “it's ours.”

“The house?” David squealed. “I mean
the
house?”

“We haven't closed, of course, but the trust that owns it has agreed to a price and said we can move in right away, if we want.”

Mom nodded. Xander realized she had known all along, but she'd kept it a surprise.

Dad leaned down to give her a big kiss. Xander and David exchanged a look, one with equal parts happiness and fear.

Xander thought if you took a picture of them during a really

scary part of a really good movie, they would look like they did now. He hoped he was right about the house being more frightening than dangerous, and he wondered, if he was wrong, if they would realize it before someone got hurt.

“So what do you say?” Dad clapped his hands. “Want to go to our new home?”

“Now?” Toria said.

“Sure.” He saw Xander and David eyeing their burgers.

“Bring 'em; we'll have a picnic there.”

9

Xander hadn't thought about it until now, but it was odd pulling up to their home when the only things visible were trees. There was no driveway, no garage. Who would build a home like that? At least in this age of mass transit. It made him wonder how old the house was, who had designed it, who had built it, who had lived in it.

Dad stopped where the road did. He must have been thinking similar thoughts, for he said, “There's not even a curb to pull over to. I wonder if building a carport or a drive up to the house would be too expensive.”

“I don't mind parking here,” Mom said.

“Wait till it rains,” David said, and laughed.

Mom laid her hand on Dad's arm. “Besides, I have a feeling this house is going to take everything we have.”

That made Xander shudder. He opened the door, appreciative of the sun.

David carried the food. Mom had a blanket. As they approached the house, Xander thought about how he and David would begin the inspection as soon as they were settled in. He knew the best way to unearth the house's secrets was to have an open mind. In the movies, too many people missed important clues because they were looking for something else, some preconceived notion of what they would find. Even with this in mind, he couldn't help but think they might locate the bodies of the family who had disappeared. Most screenwriters these days would have them buried in the basement. But Xander liked the old Edgar Allen Poe stories like “The Black Cat” in which people were bricked-up in walls. Not always
after
being murdered.

Dad, Mom, and Toria tromped up the front steps. Dad swung the door open with a “Ta-da.”

Mom said, “We'd better get a locksmith out here, first thing.”

“Already taken care of,” Dad said. “I called him from the car on the way to the park.”

They streamed in. Xander stood at the bottom of the steps, his foot on the first one. David tested the banister's strength, then leaned against it. “Xander,” he whispered. “'Member what we were talking about? About the place being haunted?”

Xander stepped closer. “Shhh.”

“I can
feel
it.” He said, “Can we share a room? Just for a while?”

Xander smiled. He was glad David had suggested it first.

Now he had to be careful about appearing overeager. “Let's see how it goes.”

“Okay, but . . .” David's voice trailed off, and he bowed his head.

“But?”

“I don't think I can stay here if I have to sleep alone.”

“There's always Toria,” Xander suggested.

David made a face. “That would be
worse
.”

“Than
what
? Getting eaten by vampires?” Xander started up the steps.

“Don't say that!” David moved in close to him.

“I'm just kidding, David. Don't worry about it.” They stopped at the open door. Dust moats drifted in the gloom. They were catching the sunlight and were bright as stars in a black galaxy. The others were out of sight; their voices drifted out to Xander. They were obviously talking to one another, but now it didn't surprise Xander that they seemed to come from different places in the house and from different distances away. Standing next to him, David found his hand and gripped it. He looked at his little brother, who offered no other sign of fear.

“Besides,” David said, “vampires don't
eat
you. They drink your blood.”

Xander thought about responding with something wise like, “Those are normal vampires; this house has a different breed.” But he figured he had scared David enough—had scared
himself
enough. So instead, he said, “Fine, Dr. Van Helsing. You're the expert.” And with that, they stepped into the house together.

CHAPTER
thirteen

WEDNESDAY, 3:17 P.M.

Victoria told everyone she wanted the room that had been decorated for a little boy, even though the one across and a bit down the hall from it had obviously belonged to a little girl. “Too pink,” she called it.

“Should we let her pick
either
of them?” David whispered.

“Why not?” Xander asked.

“The little boy and the little girl?” David said, as though speaking to an imbecile.

“So?”

“They were
murdered
. What if their ghosts still think those are their rooms?”

Xander shook his head. “You're worrying too much. Just watch out for anything weird. Don't let your imagination get ahead of you.”

“You sound like Dad.”

Xander accepted that. “Which room do you want?”

“Not one of those. What room do
you
want? It's going to be
our
room, isn't it?”

Xander stood tall, stretching his spine. Maybe sharing a room for a while wasn't such a bad idea. As they got used to the house, and as they discovered—as they probably would— that it wasn't haunted, Xander could move into a room of his own. He patted his brother on the chest. “All right. Yeah.

Sure. As long as I can put my posters on the wall.”

“Not
Friday the 13th
.”

“No scary ones,” Xander agreed. He gestured with his head. “Let's look down here.”

They moved farther away from the central staircase, past the murdered boy's room.

No, no, no,
he thought,
don't start that
.
Simply, the boy's room.

He stopped at the door to what used to be a little girl's room.

He nudged it open. It creaked into a shadow-filled room. Faint light came through two dirty windows and thin curtains—Mom had called them sheers—that may have been white at one time. There was an old dresser and a bed with a canopy. Didn't matter: Dad had said they would not sleep on any beds or bedding found here anyway. They were probably dirty and had bedbugs.

David said, “Toria's right: too pink. Let's keep looking.”

The next room was dingy, dusty, and dark. Nothing about it appealed to either boy.

They moved to the next door which served the corner room on the front side of the house. Xander pushed it open, and they took a step in. This room had a chest of drawers against the far wall and a bed with a simple wooden headboard. Like the other room, two dirty windows let in meager light. The coolest part of the room was that one corner opened up into the tower, a five-sided room-within-a-room. Heavy curtains covered the tower windows, except for the center one, which— Someone was standing in front of it.

Backlit by the window, the figure was nothing more than a black silhouette to Xander's eyes. David had spotted the shape as well. His hand found Xander's again and squeezed painfully. Xander realized both of them had stopped breathing. The only sound was the figure's labored breath, deep and heavy. The thing shifted. Its head appeared to turn toward them. When it spoke, its voice was baritone and gravelly: “Come in, boys.”

David screamed first. It was long and high pitched. Xander's quick “Ahhh!” was almost completely lost in the sound of David's fear. They turned together and knocked each other into the door frame. They were almost into the hall when they heard a familiar voice call their names. They were through the doorway and moving in separate directions, when they heard, “Boys! Boys! Come back!” and uncontrollable laughter.

Xander stopped and looked back. David had stopped as well, halfway through the doorway at the end of the hall.

The boy's eyes were saucers of shock.

From the room: “Xander! David!”

They scowled at each other. Xander took a cautious step toward the door.

Dad stepped into the hallway between them. He looked at Xander, then at David. He said, “Sorry. Really.” He stifled a laugh.

David, generally calm, cool, and collected, yelled at the top of his lungs, “That's not funny!”

Dad walked toward him. “I know, I know. I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself.” He hugged his youngest son, who resisted, then gave in. He looked back at Xander with a guilty smile.

Xander shook his head and pointed at David. “What
he
said.”

Dad nodded. “You guys have been whispering about this house since we talked to the real estate woman. I couldn't resist.”

The muscles in Xander's face felt tight. He said, “You know what they say about payback.”

Dad snickered. He said, “My boys, my brave young men.”

Still pressed against him, David punched his father in the side.

Dad let out an exaggerated grunt and pushed back from him. “So,” he said, “have you picked out a room?”

“We're
trying
,” David said. “What about beds?”

“Your old beds will be here in a few days. I just have to tell the moving company we found a place.”

“And till then?”

“We'll stay in the motel.”

“Not here?” Xander asked.

Dad shook his head. “We have to do some cleaning first, get the utilities turned on, make sure everything's safe.”

As if to punctuate his last word, Mom yelled, “Ed! Ed!” All three of them looked one way, then the other. It was impossible to tell where she was. Dad made a decision and ran toward the main staircase. Xander and David followed. Toria came out of her room, knocking David against the wall. They clambered down the stairs together. Dad stepped into the foyer, looked down the corridor to the kitchen, and called, “G!”

Her voice came back with an edge of panic: “Ed!”