The Bridge (Para-Earth Series) (29 page)

             
As soon as the doors opened again Charlie led the way.  He had taken this route dozens of times over the last six months, but this time it seemed alien to him.  Had the corridor always been this long?  And did his footsteps always echo off the walls so loudly?

             
Deep down he knew it had always been like this.  The real problem was going through the double doors up ahead.  His mentor wouldn’t be there to greet him and rib him for not bringing coffee.  Dr. Wells had been a friend, as well as a boss. 

             
As they reached the doors, he stopped.

             
“You don’t have to do this,” his brother said gently.

             
“Yes I do,” Charlie replied firmly, “I owe it to him.  If I don’t go back in there, then all my studies will have been a wash.”

             
His brother nodded in silence.

             
“I just never expected my boss to be a victim,” Charlie continued. “Especially not here.  Which is why I have to know if I can handle working in the room where he died or not.  Who knows, maybe I’ll spot something you all missed, that might lead to his killer.”

             
Ryan beamed with pride at his younger sibling and said, “Then, let’s do it.”

             
Charlie pushed the doors open and strode into the room.  Right away he noticed his boss’ desk had been cleared off.  Even his favorite coffee cup was gone.  The area looked as barren and cold as the operating table where they performed autopsies. 

             
A man’s life, and his work, had been swept up and carted away just like that. It seemed obscene. 

             
Continuing his inspection of the room, he noted a microscope was missing along with some slides.  Probably taken as evidence, since that was what Dr. Wells had been working with when he died, he realized.

              Ryan had been watching his younger sibling carefully and was about to make a comment, when he caught a whiff of something foul in the air.  His brother must have noticed it was well, because he started to sniff loudly. 

             
“That damned smell again,” Charlie muttered, “It was here when I left that night.  Doc told me to make sure the extractor fans were going before I left.”

             
“They were still on, when we got here.”

             
“And it’s still hanging around?  That’s weird.”

             
The two brothers stood there, each lost in thought.  The room was silent, until the sound of a drop of water hitting the floor caught their attention.

             
It had come from the rows of metal doors where bodies were kept, in the far wall. 

             
Approaching slowly they noticed the little pool of water that had been forming at the base of the wall.  The smell was stronger over here.

             
They traced the water up to one of the metal doors.  “That’s the one Chase had been in before he was buried,” Charlie remarked and reached for the handle.

             
Ryan stopped him.  “Something’s not right,” he said. 

             
Some part of Charlie’s mind agreed.  After a quick discussion, they rigged a string to open the door from a safe distance and pulled. 

             
The metal door flew open and a torrent of dark, foul smelling water poured out of the locker.  Covering their mouths and noses, the brothers fled the room.

              At that same moment, Roy found himself inside the dry cleaners staring down at the body of the proprietor.  The man’s face was a frozen tableau of terror. 

              Alex, blissfully unaware of all that had taken place, boarded a train at Grand Central station, eager to go home.  He had been in the city all day and was glad to be leaving.  He had met with clients, visited contractors, and then checked on a couple of jobs his office was overseeing.   Then he’d met up with his sister and her husband for lunch. 

             
And as usual Sharon was in top form, going on about how tired he looked and that he needed to spend more time back on Long Island.  Maybe go to the beach.  Of course he could bring Veronica, but she’d heard that too much sun was bad for older skin, and so on and so forth.

             
Now, he was comfortably settled in a seat on the train and allowed himself to lean back and relaxed.  The gentle swaying and clicking sound of the wheels were soothing, almost hypnotic.  His eyes slowly lowered and he fell asleep… 

              … and once again found himself in the strange hallway with the four doors waiting for him.  How had he gotten up here?

             
Up here?  Yes, this was an upper story that was rarely used anymore.  A thin layer of dust covering the carpet was testimony to that fact. No one had been up here in some time. 

             
Brushing aside a cobweb he went over to the nearest door and tried the handle, it was unlocked.  Suddenly it swung inwards, revealing a bedroom furnished in Colonial style. Though he was no expert, he was sure the furnishings were originals, not modern copies.  And unlike the hallway, everything in here was immaculately clean and well cared for.  There was some clothing laid out on the bed which indicated this room belonged to a woman.

             
Instinct told him not to enter, so he decided to make his way towards the next room. As soon as he turned away, the door behind him slammed shut.  Then the unmistakable sound of keys in a lock could be heard.  Looking back, he saw the door was now bolted shut and thought he heard movement inside.  Looking down at the lighted crack at the bottom of the door, he spotted the shadow of feet pacing back and forth from the other side of the barrier.  He quickly went over to the other doors and saw no light or shadows coming from them.

             
Coming back to the locked door he found wooden slats now covered the portal.  At first he felt panic for the owner of those shadowy footsteps, but then he realized the room was now empty.  He could sense no one within.

             
From behind him came the sound of creaking.  Turning he saw the door opposite this one slowly opening.

             
He took one final look at the barred doorway and found it was now bricked up.  And half of the brickwork was already covered by dark paneling that matched the rest of the corridor.

             
There was nothing more he could do here.  And the room behind him waited patiently.  Taking a deep breath, he turned and headed over to the room across the hallway.  He didn’t bother looking back, knowing that any sign a room had been there would be gone.

              On the old stone bridge over the stream, a woman stood silent and motionless.  In her arms she cradled what appeared to be a small bundle.  Her eyes were fixed on the line of tall trees surrounding the rear half of the great mansion.  Their many branches practically obscured the entire third floor.

             
Nearby, at the foot of the bridge a man wearing a white wolf skin knelt.  His head was bowed as he chanted in a tongue not heard in centuries.   

              Alex studied the second room from the doorway.  This one was also immaculately clean, but the furnishings were from a later period, Regency perhaps?  This time he entered the room, making sure to lodge a chair in front of the door to keep it from closing.  He did not wish to become trapped, should this room suffer the same fate as its predecessor. 

             
As with the last room this one also belonged to a woman, although the clothing was more fine and delicate.  He noticed there were two windows to this room.  One was actually a door that opened onto a balcony.  He stepped out onto it and found it was actually a large walkway that ran the length of the building. Something else caught his eye.  There were a number of…

             
A scraping noise caught his attention.  It was coming from the room. 

             
Quickly he ran back inside to find the chair he’d lodged under the handle, was being pushed along by the door as it began to close. With the slowness of nightmares he struggled to reach the shrinking opening.  Just as the chair became stuck in the doorframe, he managed to step onto it and leapt through the opening and somehow landed on his feet.  A moment later, the chair broke and the door slammed shut.

             
By the time he looked back, the entire doorway had been covered with wooden planks and was partly bricked up. 

             
He waited.  Nothing happened.

             
Off to his right, another door creaked open.  With a sigh of resignation he turned and headed over to see what surprises awaited him in that room.  Again, he didn’t bother to look back.  He was confident the room he had escaped from was already covered up.

              The White Wolf-Man kneeling at the foot of the bridge had not moved

             
But on the bridge there had been a change.  A new figure had appeared, taking the place of the first woman.  This girl had shorter, fairer hair, and she too cradled a small bundle in her arms.  And like the woman before, she stared at the rear section of the Graham Manor.

              Alex did not try to enter the third room.  Even though he was well aware this was a dream, he didn’t feel like taking chances.  Nor did he try to wake up.  Someone or something wanted to show him all of this, and he was curious to know why.

             
Like the others, this chamber had belonged to a woman as well.  And from the looks of things, she was well provided for.  Glancing over at the windows he saw the trees were not as dense.  In fact, he could see top of a long roof a short distance away.  Frowning, he tried to remember what the view had been like from the room on the other side of the hallway.

             
Suddenly the door slammed shut in his face. 

              Another dark haired girl now stood on the bridge.  Shifting the small bundle in her arms she too studied the building on the slope.  But when the slamming of a car door nearby startled her, she vanished.  The White Wolf-Man cursed under his breath.  He could hear voices coming nearer.

              A few moments later, two uniformed officers appeared from around some bushes and froze.  Standing on the opposite end of the bridge was a large dog or wolf of pure white.  It looked at them for a moment barked urgently, then trotted off into some brush nearby.

             
After a moment, the pair shrugged and went about their business and searched the area for the signs of the missing groundskeeper.

              Now, there was only one more door left.  Alex watched it open, but instead of going over to it he turned away and stared at the empty corridor.  This wasn’t right.  While on the walkway he had seen how far the building stretched.  And there had been a number of windows.

             
“I disbelieve,” he called out, his voice echoing as if he had shouted down a long tunnel. 

             
The only answer he got was the creaking noise of wood and masonry settling.

             
“I know there’s more than just this,” he said loudly.

             
More echoes and creaking.

             
He decided to try using his mind instead,
“SHOW ME!”

             
Suddenly, the two ends of the hallway pushed away from him.  Farther and farther away they stretched revealing door after door on both sides.

             
“What the…” Alex began, but then the cries began.  From behind each door he could hear the screams and cries of women in pain.  He was forced to cover his ears thinking, ‘
So many…. so many…’

             
Then, the chill hit, followed a moment later by the WAIL...

              Alex woke up with a gasp and looked around.  He was still on the train.  The car was almost empty, and no one was paying him any attention.  He slumped back in his chair, just as a conductor came by. 

             
“Are you all right, sir?” the man asked.

             
“Been under the weather,” he replied, “nasty flu bug.”

             
The conductor nodded sympathetically, “I understand, my wife’s got it.  Let me know if you need anything.”

             
Alex thanked him and tried to gather his wits. Someone was trying to reach him.  But there was also something dark at work.  Of that he was certain.  But, did he want to get drawn into whatever was going on?   “We all know how well it worked out the last time,” he sighed.