The Blackham Mansion Haunting (The Downwinders Book 4) (7 page)

“No idea,” Winston replied.

“What can he take?” Winn asked. “As a cure?”

Winston looked down at his piece of paper. “With this
chemical makeup, there’s a thousand different possibilities. Each would take
time to make. Your best bet isn’t to look for an antidote; it’s to stop
whatever force is causing the pathogen to replicate inside him. His body’s
natural defenses can clean it out if it stops growing.”

“You mean, find the thing inside the house that bit him,”
Winn said. “And kill it.”

“Precisely,” Winston replied.

▪
▪
▪

Winn pulled into Carma’s driveway. David had been asleep
since they got in Winn’s Jeep at the airport and was still out. As he parked
the car and turned off the engine, Winn looked over at David, feeling sorry for
him. David had passed out twice on their trip back, thankfully not during the
security line at the airport in Missoula. Winn had been there to catch him each
time he dropped, keeping him propped up until they could find a place to sit.
David usually regained his senses within a few minutes, apologizing and looking
a little flush each time he found himself saved by Winn. Then he’d relate more
visions of a figure crawling over him, stabbing his chest with something sharp.
Each time David seemed weaker. Now, lying against the inside of the Jeep, the
kid looked wiped out. Winn reached out to shake him, but he didn’t wake. He
felt for a pulse and was relieved to find it normal and strong. Winn walked
around to the passenger side of the Jeep and opened the door, then lifted David
out of the vehicle and walked him to the house. Winn remembered how irritated
he’d been with David when they left, and was a little surprised to find that he
wasn’t nearly as irritated with him now, as they returned. A football player,
David was plenty heavy — but Winn wasn’t minding. He tapped the door with his
foot, and in a few moments Deem opened it, letting them in.

“How’d it go?” Deem asked.

“Let me get him up to bed,” Winn replied, carrying David past
her and up the stairs. Deem saw that Winn hadn’t been able to close the door on
his Jeep, so she walked outside and shut it, noticing the bats flying overhead.
Then she walked back inside.

Carma was waiting inside the entryway. “How’s David?” she
asked.

“Winn took him straight up to bed,” Deem replied. “He wasn’t
awake.”

“Oh, this isn’t good,” Carma said, wringing her hands. “Not
good at all.”

Winn returned after another minute and the three of them made
their way into the drawing room. It was dusk, and the large hill beyond the
back yard was perfectly framed by the large windows of the room, looking almost
black and white in the fading light.

“How’s he doing?” Deem asked.

“Pulse is fine, breathing seems normal,” Winn replied. “But
the blackouts are increasing, and each time he recovers from one, he seems a
lot weaker. Tells the same story each time, about his chest being pierced or
stabbed by something that crawls on top of him.”

“When you called with the diagnosis,” Carma said, “I did some
studying in my medical books. There’s clear precedent for eliminating the
infection by killing the source.”

“Is that what this is?” Deem asked. “An infection?”

“Winston called it a poison,” Winn replied. “Like a spider
bite, designed to paralyze the victim.”

“Except that there’s an ongoing connection between the spider
and David that’s making it worse,” Carma said. “The spider continues to draw
energy from him. In this case, you can kill the spider, and David will recover
because the energy drain will stop.”

“I went back into the house,” Deem said.

Winn looked at her, shocked. “You did what?”

“I went back in,” she replied. “I needed to find that glass
from the mirror. I did.”

“By yourself?” Winn asked.

“Yes.”

“Come on!” Winn replied, irritated. “When did we start doing
stupid shit?”

“I had to do something!” she replied. “I couldn’t just sit on
my ass down here waiting for you two, doing nothing.”

“You’re lucky you’re not up in bed, like David.”

“I found the glass, and it made some kind of connection to
Lorenzo,” Deem said. “I can talk to him. Through the book.”

Winn shook his head, attempting to clear it. “You did what?”

“I made my way through the houses until I found one that had
some of the mirror intact. I found a piece of it, big enough to look at. I
could see something in it. And when I dropped out, the drawing in the book had
changed. It was glowing, and I was able to speak to Lorenzo. It was only for a
minute. He’s trapped there. He wants us to release him.”

“Does he?” Winn said, exasperated. He turned to Carma. “Any
of this sound bad to you?”

“Very bad,” Carma said. “And there’s more. Tell him, Deem.”

Winn turned back to look at Deem. She had a sheepish look, as
though she didn’t want to talk, but knew she had to.

“When I found the glass, I was forced to drop out,” she said.
“I was cornered in the room, and something was coming in. I don’t know if it
was Willard Bingham or not.”

Winn saw Carma shudder. “You know of Bingham?” Winn asked
her.

“I remember the news stories about him,” Carma replied. “Very
violent and brutal. The entire Wasatch front was quaking in their boots until
he was caught. If that’s him in the house, you’re lucky to be alive, Deem.”

“And there’s more,” Deem said.

“More?” Winn asked.

“Something was in the room with me,” she replied. “At first I
thought I might have imagined it, but I’m sure I didn’t. It was a man, hanging
from the ceiling. He looked long dead, like a mummified corpse.”

“Just hanging there?” Winn asked.

“Yeah. He wasn’t hanging from a rope. There was some kind of
substance attached to his head that stretched up to the ceiling.”

Winn sighed and fell back in his seat. He ran his fingers
through his hair. “Fuck me,” he said. “I’m lost. Do you have any idea what any
of it means?”

“No, but I think Lorenzo knows,” Deem replied. “I was only
able to talk to him for a minute last night. Carma says it’s a once-a-day
thing, that the book recharges with energy from the moon. I’m hoping we can use
it again tonight to try and contact him.”

“Actually,” Carma said, “I think the time is at hand.” She
pointed to the box containing the book. A weak glow emanated from its edges,
from under the lid. “I think it wants to talk.”

Deem rose from her seat and walked to the box. “I’m going to
open it, alright, Carma?”

Carma and Winn were right behind her, looking over her
shoulder. “Go ahead,” Carma said. “But keep the book down inside the box. Don’t
lift it out.”

Winn watched as Deem raised the lid. The light emanating from
the page of the book illuminated the interior of the box. Deem twisted the book
sideways, and then opened the cover, turning quickly to the drawing of the
mirror.

Winn knew Deem had dropped into the River, so he joined her.
He was shocked to see Lorenzo’s image in the mirror, covered in hideous boils.
He felt Carma stiffen next to him as she also saw the disturbing vision.

Deem!
Lorenzo said.
You’re still there!

Yes, I’m here,
she replied.
With friends.

I don’t have much time,
Lorenzo said.
You must come to the house and find
me.

We’re not going anywhere until you explain a few things,
Winn said over Deem’s shoulder.

There’s not enough time to explain this way,
Lorenzo said.
The mirror will fade
in a few seconds, we don’t have a strong enough connection yet. I have much to
tell you, but you must come to the house.

How do we find you?
Deem asked.

Five times out the front door, two out the hallway door, and
nine out the kitchen door. Will you remember?

Five, two, and nine,
Deem repeated.
Got it.

And Deem, if you see something moving in the house, something
that looks like a man but has changed, leave the River immediately, don’t…

The glow faded and Lorenzo was gone. They dropped from the
flow.

“Fuck!” Winn said, turning to walk away from the book. “You
can’t get back in touch with him?”

“Not unless we wait until tomorrow night,” Carma replied.

Deem closed the book and lowered the lid of the box. Then she
turned to face Carma and Winn. “I say we go there, now. Talk to him. We know
exactly how to reach him.”

“What was all that about something moving in the house?” Winn
asked. “Something that looked like a man?”

“I believe that was what trapped me in the room,” Deem
replied. “And I presume it was the thing that attacked David.”

“Fuck!” Winn said again, angrily.

“I know you’re upset, Winthrop, but really,” Carma chided.
“Such liberal and unnecessary use of the f-word!”

“You want to go now?” Winn asked.

“Yes, now!” Deem replied. “Paragonah is only an hour up the
interstate. I say we go now, find Lorenzo, and have him explain what’s going on
so we can figure out a way to save David.”

Winn stared back at her. He knew she was right, but he had a
bad feeling about the plan. Everything about Blackham house had been barreling
forward so fast, outside of his control. He hadn’t signed up for it in the
first place, he just found himself roped in to help save Deem and David. He’d
felt the warning in the air when he first entered the place; now they were
about to enter the house again, and delve deeply into it. It bothered him that
Deem didn’t seem to recognize the danger.

“You don’t want to go?” Deem asked, seeing the reluctance on
his face.

“No, it’s not that, Winn replied. “The house is fucked up,
Deem. I know it, in my bones. You need to listen to me; we might make things
worse. Suppose another one of us is attacked, like David.”

“If you see the Creepsis, just drop out,” Deem replied.

“Creepsis?” Carma asked.

“That’s what the kids of Paragonah call it,” Deem answered, “according
to Professor Cloward.”

“Do you remember how to find Lorenzo?” Winn asked.

“Five, two, nine,” Deem replied with confidence. “Front door,
kitchen door, hallway door.”

“Um,” Carma interjected, “I think it was front, then hallway,
then kitchen.”

“Fuck me!” Winn said, turning away again in frustration.

“Again with the f-word!” Carma said, her lips pursing. “So
unnecessary!”

“No, you’re right, Carma,” Deem said, “it was front, hallway,
kitchen. You’re right.” Deem reached for a pen that was sitting on a table in
the corner and scribbled the sequence onto the flesh of her palm.

“So as long as you don’t slip up and wash your hands, we’ll
be fine,” Winn said as he watched her write.

Deem walked up to him. “Listen. We will never know what to do
about David if we don’t talk to this guy. We go in, we follow the route, we
drop out if we see the Creepsis.”

“And if we have to drop out?” Winn asked. “What then?”

“We wait for a while and try again,” Deem said. “Unless you
can think of something better to try.”

Winn racked his brain for an alternative, Deem and Carma
watching him. Carma’s perturbed look was changing to one of pity, and it pissed
him off even more.

“No,” he said finally. “I don’t have an alternative.”

“You’d better get going,” Carma said. “I’ll keep an eye on
David.”

Deem handed the flask to Winn and he took several large
mouthfuls, swallowing them down with ease. Then he watched as Deem struggled to
swallow the two gulps she took for herself.

“I think that’s got more alcohol in it than your father’s recipe,”
Winn replied, getting out of Deem’s truck, shutting the door quietly.

“He was a better Mormon than me,” Deem replied, stowing the
flask in her backpack. They both walked to the house in the dark. The moon
hadn’t yet risen, and Blackham mansion sat before them as a dark silhouette
against the starry night. Winn shivered looking at it, knowing it wasn’t just
the empty, abandoned house it appeared to be.

They crept to the back. Deem pushed open the kitchen door,
and Winn followed her inside, turning on a flashlight.

The house looked and smelled exactly the same as Winn
remembered it. He recalled Deem’s descriptions of the altered version of the
duplicate houses, so he took note of the details he saw in the kitchen as they
walked through it. He wanted to compare each version of the house as they began
their quest to find Lorenzo.

They sat in the living room, cross-legged on the dirty floor.
Deem sat her backpack in front of her and removed Lorenzo’s journal. Winn
watched as she opened it to the page of the mirror.

“I don’t know if this will matter or not,” Deem said, “but
this was how I had it last time.”

“Alright,” Winn replied. “So we enter the River and follow
the sequence. And we drop out at the first sign of the Creepsis.”

He watched as Deem closed her eyes. He did the same, and
jumped into the flow.

Five times through the front door,
Deem said. Winn was closest to the
door, and he led the way. He reached for the knob and pulled the front door
open, exposing the kitchen.

A
copy
of the kitchen,
he reminded himself.
The first copy.

He walked through, looking at the state of the walls and
floors. It seemed much the same as the original, but a few things were slightly
different. He doubted he would have noticed if he hadn’t paid so much attention
when they first entered the house.

He walked through the house quickly, Deem right behind him. Within
seconds he’d reached the front door, and he opened it again.

Second copy,
he thought. The differences in the kitchen were more
noticeable this time; less debris on the floor, more plaster on the walls.

Come on,
Deem said, walking past him and leading to the front of the house. They
passed through the front door again, and repeated the process twice more, each
time Winn noticing the improvements.

When they stepped into the kitchen after the fifth time and
began moving through the house, Deem’s route veered into the central hallway
and walked to the door at its end, passing bedrooms with closed doors. The
hallway was tall and wide, and Winn listened carefully as they passed down it, wondering
if anything was behind the doors, straining to detect any other presence in the
house with them. Everything seemed quiet and silent except for the sound of
their steps.

The door at the end of the hallway opened into the kitchen
again, and Deem routed through the house once more, passing through the hallway
door a second time, and coming to stop in the middle of the kitchen.

Now nine times through the kitchen door,
Winn said.
Aren’t we passing back
through the last house? Could we have skipped that last one and just gone back
through the kitchen door?

I’m not skipping any of Lorenzo’s instructions,
Deem replied.
Who knows what
shifts whenever we cross a threshold.

Deem turned and walked back out the kitchen door, stepping into
the entry hall.

See, it doesn’t go back to the central hallway,
Deem said.
We have to follow the
pattern Lorenzo gave us exactly, or we’d get hopelessly lost.

Alright,
Winn replied.
Let’s just get the next nine over with.

Deem counted off each time they passed from the kitchen to
the front hall, each time the house improving dramatically in condition, with entire
rooms appearing whole and decorated. In each case there was new furniture that
they had to take care to go around. When they reached number seven, Winn
stopped her just as they entered the living room.

Listen
, he said, raising a finger to his lips. They both paused.

The solitary creak of a board reached their ears, then the
sound of a foot hitting the floor. It thumped again, and was followed by a
scraping sound.

It’s on the other side of the house,
Winn whispered.
It might have just
come through the hallway door on that side.
We either drop out or make a
run for the kitchen.

Run!
Deem replied, taking off. Winn followed her, and within moments they were
in the kitchen, ready to pass through to the front entryway of the eighth
house. They paused and listened again. The thump still came from behind them,
then it stopped.

Maybe it went out the front door?
Deem asked.

We can hope,
Winn replied.

They walked together into the eighth house.

Whoa,
Deem said.
Every time we go into the next house, it feels like we’re
going back in time.

It was filled with luxurious details; fine moldings, carved
furniture, rich upholsteries. Not the house of a poor pioneer who worked the
land.

Blackham had money, that’s for sure,
Winn said as they passed through the
rooms.
I wonder how he made it. What did Cloward say? Coal?

In the central room, for the first time, appeared a table. It
was large and round, and could accommodate eight people.

Séance table?
Deem asked.

That’s what I’m thinking,
Winn replied.

They walked to the kitchen. Pots and pans lined shelves, and
food appeared on counters. Deem ran to the door and grabbed the handle to the
ninth house. She turned to look at Winn, who nodded an assent, and she turned
the knob.

Inside was another front entryway. Standing in the entryway
was Lorenzo Lyman. He was handsomely dressed in a long coat, and had a long,
dark beard similar in style to the pioneers of 1880. There were no boils on his
face.

Deem stepped forward, but Lorenzo held out a hand.
Don’t
try,
he said.
You won’t be able to come in. No one can come in or out,
I’m afraid.

Lorenzo walked closer until he was within a few feet of them.
He held up a hand and placed it against the doorway. Winn could see his flesh
flattening out against some invisible barrier.
He’s so young,
Winn
thought.
I was expecting someone older. He must be in his thirties — not
much older than I.

Lorenzo pulled his hand away and smiled at them.

You made it,
he said, tears beginning to form in his eyes.
I didn’t
know if you would actually come. It’s been a long, long time…

We’ve got a lot of questions,
Deem said.
Foremost is how we can
save our friend.

What happened to him?
Lorenzo asked.

We came to this house a couple of days ago,
Deem replied.
He got hurt
somehow. He was transported back home, fifty miles away, with no recollection
of what happened. As his memories returned, he said he’d been stabbed. Now he’s
getting worse, as though he’s been poisoned.

Lorenzo looked puzzled.
He’s not dead?

No!
Deem replied.
You expect him to be?

He should be,
Lorenzo replied.
He should be dead and strung up in the
house built for him.

Well, he’s not,
Deem replied.
He’s at home, very ill. We need to
understand what happened to him.

What is that thing, creeping through the houses?
Winn asked.
We heard it a couple houses
back.

Keep an ear out for it while we talk,
Lorenzo said.
If it appears, you
must both leave the River immediately, and come back to talk with me again
after a while, after it wanders off.

You didn’t answer the question,
Winn said.
What is it?

It’s what’s left of Willard Bingham,
Lorenzo answered.
He used to be a
man like you or I, except he is a criminal who kills and butchers people. In
life, he killed in the real world. In death, he does it here. Over the years I have
seen him walking around, when I watch through one of the doors. Long ago he was
frustrated that he couldn’t get into this house, with me. He was stopped at the
door, just as you are. Stood where you stand now, raving, cursing and
threatening me, unable to enter and fulfill his threats. Once he learned he
couldn’t get to me, he just ignored me, but I watched him. He’s always on the
prowl, hunting for new victims. I heard him kill several, before they became
too far away for me to hear.

Something changed him a while back. He doesn’t look human
anymore. He walks on all fours now, and his head sits in the middle of his
back. His face is twisted and mangled. He has something on his underside that
is sharp and extends out, like the stinger on a scorpion. One day, he drug a
body to where you’re standing now, and watched me as he stabbed it, over and
over. Then he slowly sucked the life out of it. He wanted me to watch. It
entertained him. He doesn’t have any other way of getting to me. When he’d had
enough, I saw him wrap the corpse’s head in some kind of rope and drag it away.

Jesus Christ!
Winn replied, stunned at the story.

Did he change around fifty, sixty years ago?
Deem asked.

I have no idea,
Lorenzo said, his face betraying his honesty.
I can’t measure
time in here very well. I’ve lost track of it for a long while now.

Are we the first people you’ve seen since you were trapped
here?
Deem asked.

Yes,
he replied.
I drew the mirror in my journal and connected it before I
came in, just in case something happened. I thought I could at least speak with
a relative through it and tell them what happened. I was hoping it might save
me somehow.

I found it,
Deem said.
It was lost in a mine that trapped gifteds,
probably not long after you disappeared. It had been there for a quite a while,
Lorenzo.

That would explain why no one came,
Lorenzo replied, giving Deem a
slight smile.

A lot of time went by,
Deem said.
It’s 2015.
She watched as the shock of the
news hit him. He stepped back from the door.
About sixty years ago, they
began testing a bomb in the Nevada desert,
she continued.
It’s a huge
bomb, capable of destroying an entire town. The tests emitted a poison into the
air that drifted over where we are now and infected things in the River. Normal
ghosts changed, became much more violent. If you saw Bingham change around that
time, it was probably due to the radiation.

Radiation?
Lorenzo repeated, looking lost.

It’s what they call the poison in the air from the bombs,
Winn replied.
It fell over Utah,
Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico. Killed a lot of people.

Who would do such a thing?
Lorenzo asked, horrified.

The government,
Deem replied.
We were in a war with another country, and
they wanted a way to test out the bombs they were building.

This is why we should never join the Union,
Lorenzo muttered, appearing to drift
off.
We must remain the State of Deseret.

The fallout explains the boils, too,
Deem said.
When we saw you in the
mirror, Lorenzo, your face was covered in sores. I expect that was due to the
poison in the River. It altered you, just like it changed Bingham.

But, I have no boils,
Lorenzo said, reaching up to examine his skin with his
fingers.

You did in the mirror,
Deem replied.

How long ago did you say the bombs happened?
Lorenzo asked.

Listen, Lorenzo,
Winn said,
we don’t have time to bring you up to speed on
a hundred and fifty years of history. We need to find a way to save our friend.
We need to know what you know about this place.
We’ve got the Creepsis
lurking around behind us and we might have to go any second.