Jim tried unsuccessfully to raise the Coast Guard on the radio. All he seemed to be able to receive was static, he just hoped someone had heard their call. The swells were picking up again, battering the stricken ferry against the rocks and Jim easily heard more of the hull cracking and breaking apart with the onslaught. They were in serious trouble. The ferry was listing badly to port and it was all any of them could do to remain upright.
“Jim man we have got to get off this thing.” Blair stood beside him, looking out over the rocks.
“We have no place to go but the rocks.” Jim shook his head. “Once the tide comes in…” He left the statement hang.
“Jim we’re dead if we stay here!” Blair whispered. “At least out there we’ve got a little time…maybe they’ll find us.” He studied the horizon, thinking the waters beyond the crescent of rocks looked much more calm than the waters they were currently in. “It could be my imagination, but does it look calmer over there.”
The sentinel pushed past the pounding in his head and extended his eyesight to survey the open water beyond. It was almost placid compared to the tempest they were experiencing. “Life boat.” He said absently. “We could portage it over the rocks and wait it out on the other side.” He caught sight of something on the water heading toward them and smiled. “Or we could just go over and wait for that boat.” He pointed to the small craft out on the water.
Blair’s relief was visible and he favored the older man with a shaky grin. “We could do that.”
Thirty minutes later the four passengers were aboard the boat and heading for the Island. Jim listened as the caretaker of the Merrick house explained how he happened to be in the right place at the right time.
“Margie always watches for the ferry see, and she saw the trouble you folks were having.” He scrubbed his heavily bearded face. “Damn shame about Marty and his boys…any way she comes in screaming about the ferry’s gonna capsize and I better call for help and get out there to fish folks out the water. Now I’m not an ignorant man Dee-tec-tive, I know anything out there strong enough to over turn a ferryboat is gonna tear old Bess to bits. So I goes to look at what she’s hollering about and sure enough I see your ferry pitching and bobbing and then I watch you folks run afoul of the break water see and I says to Margie that the inland water don’t look to bad, so I come out to fetch you…. Though truth be told I weren’t expecting to find anyone after the beating you had.”
“We’re glad you came out Mr. Adolph.” Jim gave as much of a smile as he could muster. Ghost stories, an insane crewman, Mother nature on speed and now an extra from ‘Deliverance’ as their would be savior it was just too strange and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing at permanent attention. He wouldn’t relax until they were back on the mainland and that couldn’t come soon enough as he saw the darkly ominous outline of the Merrick house against the Grey sky.
The old house was even more foreboding up close and personal and Jim wasn’t entirely sure they wouldn’t be better off hanging out in the cold until the coast guard arrived to take them back. His hopes of a brief stay on the island were dashed as a rotund, far too cheerful red faced woman met them on the front steps of the manner. He began to look around for cameras as she opened her mouth and began speaking.
“Oh you poor dears!” Margie exclaimed as she ushered them into the cavernous great hall. “You must be freezing! Fortunately there is a bathroom for everyone and plenty of hot water. Oh good you managed to salvage your luggage. I’m amazed you all survived! That was just terrible what happened out there! Poor Marty…. Anyway I contacted the Coast Guard and as you might have guessed there is one heck of a storm building out there! They are not going to be able to get here until it blows over. Rayford I want you to fetch the first aid kit, these poor folks have plenty of bumps and bruises to be tended to!” Jim opened his mouth to protest they were fine but she stopped him with a raised hand. “I may be old but I am not blind young man and I hate trying to get blood out of sheets! Let’s get you warmed up and patched up and then I’ll have cook fix you some dinner. NO arguments!”
“Yes ma’am.” Jim answered feeling oddly compelled to stand at attention.
“Now follow me,” The old woman smiled a semi-toothed smile “and lets get you settled in.”
Jim spared a glance at his companions, the Photographer looked shell-shocked and Blair and Emma wore matching expressions of disbelief. He could tell they were all too exhausted to argue with the woman so like ducks in a row they dutifully followed Margie up the majestic marble staircase. Behind them Jim heard David mumble “If she tries to bathe me I am sleeping on the dock.”
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
Emma stepped out of the large claw foot tub and grabbed her towel. She dried herself and then wrapped the towel over her sodden hair before stepping infront of the full-length mirror to inspect the damage. “Lovely.” She sighed as she traced a vivid bruise on her chin. “Could be worse.” /I could be dead. / She closed her eyes as the image of the dead crewman flashed through her mind. “But you’re not Em. You’re alive.” She whispered a vain attempt to ward away the tears welling in her eyes. A broken sob escaped her as she pulled on her robe shattering the last of her composure. She sat heavily on the floor, buried her face in her hands and wept.
“Don’t cry.”
Emma’s head shot up and she looked around for the source of the voice. She was alone, a chill crept up he spine and she was on her feet and out the door in the next heart beat. She was three steps into her bedroom when she stopped, a hysterical giggle building in her throat. “God Emma, get a grip.” She scolded herself. The next thing she knew she was crying again, exhaustion, fear and pain taking their toll. She curled up on her bed and hugged a pillow to her chest, feeling alone and more like a child than she had felt in a long while.
“Shhhh now it’s okay.”
“Fuck!” Emma shot out of bed and bolted from her room.
Chapter Seven
Blair had just closed the door to his bedroom when he found himself face to face with a panic stricken Emma. The young woman was panting heavily, her green eyes were bright with fear providing a startling contrast to her ashen countenance. She latched on to his arm with a painful grip and pointed back toward her room with her free hand. “What is it Em?”
“I…they…I heard…Fuck!” Emma stammered between gasps for air.
“Emma you’ve got to calm down. You’re hyperventilating.” He eased her to a sitting position in the hall. The young woman put her head between her knees worrying her hands through her damp hair as Blair rubbed her back. “Easy now.” He soothed.
Minutes passed as they sat alone in the hall, coherent thought returned to Emma as the panic eased and she felt in a word…stupid. She kept her head down sure her face was now red with shame. She had convinced herself that what she thought she heard was all in her mind, too much stress and she sailed straight over the edge. “Sorry.” She mumbled. “Had a bit of a panic thing.”
“So that’s what that was.” Blair continued to rub small circles on her back.
Emma chuckled though it came out as more of a sob. “Thought I heard someone tell me it was okay.” She sniffed and lifted her head, still unable to meet her friend’s eyes. “Silly I know, but I freaked none the less. I know there is nothing there but I-.”
Blair silenced her with a gentle finger over her lips. “You never liked ghost stories and besides which this place gives *me* the creeps. It’s been a long, frightening day. I think you reacted normally given the circumstances, if I had more energy I’d be freaking too. What I think we really need to do is get stinking drunk and stay that way until the Coast Guard shows up.” He smiled as Emma relaxed and even laughed.
“That sounds like a plan.” She let him pull her into an embrace. “Thank you.”
“What friends are for, remember?”
David quietly closed the door to his room, his anger strangely reborn after watching the display between the two people in the hall. He felt once again like the perpetual outsider and it made him furious. What about him? He had been there two, had experienced the same terror as they had but no one cared to see if he was okay! He paced his room like a caged animal, rage coursing through him obliterating all other thought. He crossed to his bed and began unpacking his special bag. David held one item above the others and he caressed the antique Ivory handle lovingly staring at his reflection in the polished steel of the serrated blade. “Time for lesson one, boys and girls.” His smile was cold and devoid of joy as he tucked the knife away. “I will teach you well.”
In the shadows something watched and smiled a mirror of the man’s cold smile. Her time had come, a hundred years of waiting was over. Her kindred had arrived, he would set her free and she would make him whole. Together they would bleed the world. Together in vengeance they would bathe in crimson.
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
Jim looked up as Blair and Emma entered the sitting room, each grasping a cup of tea, each looking somewhat disappointed that it was only tea filling the cups. He sympathized, he would have given anything for a good stiff shot of whiskey. He didn’t really care for whiskey but there had been times where it had served a very definite purpose. He hid a smile as the two young people sat hip to hip on a rather large sofa. “Blair, Emma.” He tipped his mug in greeting.
“How’s your head Jim?” Blair asked noting the new white bandage covering the cut he’d sustained on the ferry.
“Still attached.” Jim grimaced.
“Attached is good.”
“Says who?” Jim leaned back against the headrest. “How about you?”
“I’m fine.” Blair said with little conviction.
“Liar.” His two companions muttered softly.
Blair laughed. “I think the consensus is we all feel like hell.”
Margie Adolph bustled into the sitting room, her overly cheerful voice echoing painfully off of the walls. “Oh you children do look ill used!” She fussed at them. “How about some nice warm stew?”
“I could eat.” Blair levered himself off the sofa and extended his hand to Emma, who gratefully accepted.
Jim was contemplating the idea of moving when he found matching hands infront of his face, smiling he grasped them and stood to follow the old woman into the dining hall. “What about David?”
“Oh I’ve sent Rayford after you’re friend, I am sure he will be joining you shortly.” Margie ushered them into the hall. “Now sit and cook will be out with your food shortly.”
“Thank you Mrs. Adolph.” Emma smiled at the older woman. “For everything.”
Margie lay a motherly hand on the artist’s shoulder and her Grey eyes were warm with affection. “You’re welcome love. And don’t worry everything will be all right come the morning. Eat well and rest well children.” Margie retreated from the room leaving a matronly air of security in her wake.
Midway through their meal, the storm raging outside picked up in intensity and the power failed, plunging the cavernous manor into an eerie darkness. Cook appeared in the doorway with two lit candles, setting them on the table and leaving without a word.
“Oh good, mood lighting.” Emma grumbled sarcastically. “Will cousin It be joining us for dinner?”
Laughter echoed through the halls of the house, reaching
only those the sound would ignite rage within. Anger rallied its forces,
sleeping furies rose from their slumber and a storm built within that shamed
the storm swirling beyond the walls of the manor. A vivid flash of blue
heralded a deafening thunderclap, a window exploded inward showering a
bed with glass and a figure resplendent in white smiled a chilling smile
as the window reassembled its self at her whim, missing a long jagged shard
of glass now buried within the mattress. She traced her ghostly hand along
the hole in the glass and no wind nor rain passed through. She smiled again
fading into mist she went to join with her kindred.
Chapter Eight
Blair lay quietly on his bed watching with some fascination the patterns sketched on his bedroom wall by the near constant lightening. Sleep was elusive inspite of his bone deep exhaustion. It had been a hell of a day. He wondered idly how exactly he had come to be professional disaster victim, the injuries he’d sustained recently were getting to be a bit much. He threw his arm over his eyes and sighed heavily, stewing about it was not helping. He just needed to get some sleep and in the morning the Coast Guard would come pick them up and they would go home. He was quite sure he wouldn’t be leaving the loft again.
“Yeah, like that’s any safer.” He mumbled. Thinking back to the number of times the loft had been invaded only served to fuel his growing anxiety. The last eighteen months had really sucked and he just knew they had to be due for a reprieve soon. He was on edge constantly as was Jim, their relationship was strained, their arguments were more frequent and more intense, they just needed a break for the mayhem. Unfortunately this weekend had not turned into the relaxing siesta he had hoped for. It seemed like there was some larger cosmic force at work intent on turning the thumbscrews, and he was getting very tired of it.
“Let it go, Blair.” He said quietly. “Just let it go.” He understood he really had no control over what fate was going to throw at them next, though it would have been nice to be able to make a suggestion. All he could really do was roll with the punches. He chuckled at the image that thought brought to mind. “Been there done that.”
Blair was startled out of his reverie by a soft knock at his door. “Come in.”
“Hey chief.” Jim entered, and closed the door behind him.
Blair sat up quickly, concerned. “Jim is something wrong?”
The Sentinel laughed. “No I just heard you talking to yourself.” /and thought there was something wrong with you./ he added silently. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Blair shook his head, smiling. “Not much to talk about, Jim. I just was hoping for a bit of a break you know.”
“Me too, Chief. We’ve had more than our share of crap to deal with lately.” Jim paused. “I’m sorry you’ve been in the middle of it.”
“Hey, Jim” Blair reached forward grasping the older man’s forearm. “Don’t forget that I am exactly where I want to be.”
“No thesis is worth this.” He met his partner’s gaze earnestly.
“It’s more than that man and you know it. It may be more comfortable to think about our partnership in those terms, but the fact of the matter is that it’s been about a whole hell of a lot more than just my diss for a long time. You’re my friend, Jim.” Blair sat back and studied Jim’s reaction.
“So that explains everything?”
“Yep.” The corners of Blair’s mouth quirked upward in a grin.
“Thank you.” The words were honest. “I don’t say that as often as I should.”
“Me either, Jim.” Blair chuckled. “It’s a guy thing I am sure. Women have no problem with stuff like this.”
“Well you’ve done enough research you should know.” Jim deadpanned earning him a smack on the arm from his guide.
“You can go away now!” Blair feigned outrage.
“You sure you’re okay, Chief?” Jim asked in all seriousness.
He smiled at his Sentinel. “Yeah Jim, I’m just doing a little processing.”
“Why don’t you put the processing on hold and get some sleep. You need it.” The detective patted the younger man on the leg and rose to leave.
“Yeah, easier said than done, man. I would so love it if my brain would just shut the hell up for a change.” Blair sighed.
“Give it a shot, meditate or something.” Jim opened the door to leave.
“Sure Jim.” The anthropologist grinned. “Goodnight.”
Blair lay awake for a long while after Jim left, his body finally giving in where his mind refused and he eventually fell into a restless slumber.
She watched him as he slept. He was, beautiful. So much like the man she once loved, he moved a fire with in her and she almost felt regret. Not quite though as memories of a dead past asserted themselves and she remembered how he had betrayed her. How he had chosen Madeline over her, how he had used her! Her rage boiled over as the man in the bed finally turned and his eyes flew open as he found her surprise.
A sharp pain in his lower back brought him instantly awake, something sharp was poking him. Blair began to raise himself up when suddenly he was violently forced back on to the bed driving what ever it was further into his back. He tried to cry out but felt a strong hand cover his mouth and nose as he was pressed further into the bed. He knew someone was on top of him but he could see no one. Panic blossomed through his chest as he struggled against the agony ripping through his back and the force that was keeping him from breathing. Tears streamed down his face as his vision began to cloud and fade, his body weakened by pain and lack of oxygen gave up it’s struggle and he sagged limply on the mattress. Suddenly the pressure was released and he took a ragged painful breath, filling his lungs with delicious oxygen. He lay in the bed for long minutes as his lungs regained their balance and tried calling out but there was no power behind his voice.
He pushed himself onto his side, sobbing quietly through the pain shooting through his back, he could feel the wetness of blood soaking his shirt against his skin. He had to get help. He managed to crawl out of bed, landing in a heap on the floor. Blair cried unashamedly with agony as he rose to his feet and staggered to his door, opened it and stumbled into the hall. He was halfway to Jim’s room when a wave of vertigo washed over him sending him to his knees. Weakness consumed him and fell forward. Blair knew there was no way he was getting to his feet again, but still he continued to crawl slowly down the hall to Jim’s room, to help.
Long agonizing minutes later, panting from the exertion,
barely moving from pain and blood loss Blair lost the battle for consciousness
an arms length away from his sentinel’s door.
Chapter Nine
Something was pulling at him, an insistent nagging pull and a quiet urging voice.
“You have to wake up! You have to wake up now!”
He was dreaming, the voice sounded so feminine so very young. He rolled over and tried to ignore what ever it was pulling at him. This was a very annoying dream.
“YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP NOW!”
Jim shot up and out of bed as the lamp from his bedside table flew across his room and exploded against the far wall. “Holy shit!” he panted. There was no way he had seen what he had just seen. He felt the temperature of the room fall sharply, his breath crystallizing in the air and a sense of all consuming dread swept over him.
“GET OUT!”
The air before him shimmered and exploded white. Jim needed no more convincing, he sprung to his feet threw open the door and tripped over the body of his guide. It took him only a second to imprint the horrifying image of his best friend laying face down, arm out stretched, blood covering his back and cooling in a pool beneath his still form, into his mind. In the next he was kneeling beside the young man searching for and finding a pulse, slow, irregular, but a pulse. He lifted Blair’s tee shirt, biting back the bile that rose in his throat as the material clung to the younger man’s skin and gasped at the ugly, jagged wound to his guide’s lower back. Through the blood that still flowed freely from the tear in Blair’s flesh Jim could see the large chunk of glass still imbedded in the damaged tissue. “Jesus Christ!” he swore as he reluctantly left his fallen partners side ran through his room and grabbed towels from the bathroom.
Jim stopped at the door realizing that putting pressure on the wound while the glass was still embedded would most likely cause even more damage. His medic training told him to leave the glass alone, until he could get Blair to the hospital, but that could be hours even a day away. He didn’t have a choice, the shard had to come out and he couldn’t do that alone. He rushed down to Emma’s room flung open the door and in the space of a heartbeat he was practically dragging her from her bed. “I need your help!”
Emma stared dumbly at the back of the big man as she was drug from her room, her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the hall and she gasped when she caught sight of Blair. “What happened?” she cried as she dropped to her knees beside Jim.
“I don’t know, but he’s got a piece of glass stuck in his back and it has to come out.” Jim probed the wound with his sensitive fingers, trying to find the best way to grip the glass and pull it our without causing more harm to his guide. “I really need a scalpel!” He hissed.
“Would an exacto knife do?”
“You have one?” He asked.
“Yeah in my kit. I’ll get it.” Emma moved to rise.
“No stay here and don’t let him move. I need to grab the first aid kit too.” Jim disappeared down the hall before she had a chance to respond.
Emma averted her eyes away from the still bleeding wound, gently brushing away the curls that had fallen forward onto Blair’s face. His ashen pallor frightened her, and even though he was blessedly unconscious she could see the pain etched into his face. She couldn’t imagine the pain he’d suffered to make it from his room to where he finally gave out. Her heart constricted at the thought and she pushed it away, focusing instead on imparting comfort where she could. It couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes before Jim was at Blair’s side again with her exacto knife, the first aid kit a bottle of rubbing alcohol and more towels. “Tell me what you need me to do.” She said.
“Just keep him still. He’s likely to come around when I…” Jim swallowed convulsively, hating what he was about to do. “When I open the wound to get at the glass still in there.”
Emma nodded her jaw set in grim determination. “Okay.” She paused for a second. “No choice right?”
The Sentinel knew what she was asking, knew she had reached the same conclusion he had, but still needing to be reaffirmed. “It has to come out.”
“Okay…Okay.” She positioned her self at Blair’s shoulders while Jim sat on the younger man’s legs and found the angle he needed to widen the wound.
Blair came alive with an agonized cry as Jim made the first cut, pain ripped through him and he tried to escape it but he was unable to move, held in place by a weight draped across his upper back and another over his legs. He screamed as fire spread across his lower back, lashing out with his hands.
Emma narrowly missed being smacked in the face as she tried to capture Blair’s flailing hands. She lay almost completely on top of him, her mouth by his ear talking in as calm a voice as she could muster. She grabbed his hands holding them tightly in her own and bore down with all her weight to keep him still. “Blair hang on for me, it won’t be much longer I promise. Ah God, come on Baby it's’ going to be okay. It’ll be okay, just a little longer. Hang on a little longer.”
Blair had no strength left to fight, the pain was all consuming and he wept and begged for an end to it. “Please stop.” He gasped quietly.
“I’m so sorry Buddy.” Jim whispered as he wrapped gauze around the exposed end of the glass shard and prepared to pull it from his friend’s body. The open vulnerability and desperation in his guide’s plea for relief shredded his composure and he fought to maintain stability in his hands as he worked. “We’re almost there. Emma hold him down, I’m going to take out the glass now.”
His scream was voiceless, his body spasmed once and then fell limp beneath them. Jim felt cold panic sweep through him as the absence of his partner’s breath registered in his ears. He pressed the towel hard against the jagged wound. “Emma! He’s not-.” And then her heard it, the rush of air as it flowed into Blair’s lungs.
“Yes. He is.” Emma placed a trembling hand against Blair’s neck and felt the slow weak rhythm beneath her fingers. “He is.”
Jim maintained the pressure on Blair’s back; after what seemed an eternity, and was easily about two hours he was rewarded with a wound that no longer bled. He taped gauze securely over Blair’s injury and set about the task of getting Blair off the floor. “We’re going to need help here Emma. Get David.”
Emma nodded, rose to her feet and hurried somewhat unsteadily to David’s room. Minutes later she returned with a groggy and irritated photographer. Jim noted the irritation fled as soon as he saw the injured man, replaced with something Jim could only define as satisfaction before being wiped away by a wholly false mask of concern. “Colby get his shoulders, Emma get his legs.” Jim positioned him self at Blair’s torso and they managed to lift him without any unnecessary movement. Jim hesitated at his door and then pushed his earlier fear aside and they entered and gently lay Blair on his stomach on the bed. He had the overwhelming urge to get the predatory Colby as far away from his partner as possible. “David I need you to wake the Adolph’s and get them to radio the Coast Guard again, tell them we need a priority medical evacuation as soon as they can get to us! Got it?” he asked harshly.
The young man shot him a scathing look but said nothing as he left the bedroom and walked slowly down the hall. He was pleased, very pleased with the turn of events.
Jim draped a blanket over the still form of his guide, Emma had positioned herself opposite him and was adjusting the pillow under his head. She had been extremely quiet during the almost two hours since Blair had passed out. “Maybe you should get some rest huh?” He offered.
Emma shook her head. “Don’t think so Jim, but thanks.”
The Sentinel understood and settled in with the artist for what was going to be a very long night.