Darkhouse (Experiment in Terror #1)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Suffice to say, Uncle Al was mighty surprised when we showed up at his door again. As much as he loved the company, I was sure he breathed a giant sigh of relief when Dex and I had left that morning. Sorry, Uncle Al; you can’t get rid of us that easily.

Still, he was gracious enough to let us lounge around in his house all day. The boys were up at this point and playing video games, which suited Dex just fine. I decided to make myself useful and relinquish some of the guilt I felt by making an apple pie for the men from scratch. Yeah, I know I don’t seem like the type of girl who would slave over a stove (and I’m not; my cooking skills are atrocious), but I did have my way with the oven.

Besides, it was something to do in order to pass the time. I had already used the twins’ internet for an hour just answering emails from people and checking out the blog comments. Ada was back in full-swing and fully immersed in proving her blog was her blog and no one else’s. In fact, she had posted every day since I left. It felt like she was trying to bury my posts under heaps of fashion and frivolity.

It didn’t really matter, though. I knew I had a back-up plan (Dex), and I was still getting inquiring emails about my adventures anyway. A local ghost hunter’s chapter out of Salem (go figure), Oregon, was asking if they could interview me or perhaps come see the lighthouse. I decided to let them stew on that for a while, even though the answer at this point was a flat-out no.

Yet I couldn’t help but bring it up with Dex as we sat down at the kitchen table armed with pens and pads of paper, ready to plot out the course of the evening.

“So, a local ghost hunter’s club in Salem was hoping I could come aboard their team and perhaps show them around the lighthouse,” I said casually.

Dex stopped whatever he was writing but didn’t look up at me.

He cleared his throat. “And?”

“I haven’t gotten back to them,” I answered truthfully.

He opened his mouth to say something but then abruptly shut it.

But then he opened it again. “Well, you can do whatever you want to do. You’re a free agent. We haven’t signed anything.”

He sounded nonchalant, like he sincerely didn’t care what I did. It bugged me. I was kind of hoping he would get jealous, as immature and petty as that sounds. It totally backfired.

As if on cue to totally hammer that point down, Dex’s cell started vibrating on the table. A picture of Jennifer flashed across the screen. I know my face must have fallen and was quickly turning a vibrant shade of pink. Luckily, he was occupied.

“Hey, babe,” he answered.

I could hear her voice muffled on the other end. She seemed to speak for quite a while. Dex briefly looked at me and I tried to project a casual curiosity.

“Yes, that’s fine. Seriously, I don’t mind. Go do whatever it is you girls do. No problem. I won’t be home now until morning anyway.”

His eyes flitted to mine but he was looking through me again. His voice was different when he was talking to her. It was a pitch or two higher and none of that sexy, gravely warble. I wondered what that meant, if anything.

“Yes, not yet. OK. Bye.”

He pressed the off button and put down his phone. >

“OK, where were we?” he asked himself, picking up the pen and putting it to paper.

I couldn’t help but ask, “She doesn’t mind you staying another night?”

He shook his head. “No.”

He tapped the paper with the butt of his pen and stared out the window. “Do you have any more pie?”

“Yeah, there’s a slice or two that I put back in the fridge,” I said uneasily. I guess he wasn’t going to talk about her to me. Maybe I did ask too many questions. Maybe he just wanted pie.

He folded his hands neatly in front of him and put on a very sweet smile.

“Would you mind getting me a piece of pie?” He raised his brows, the wide-eyed manic look coming into his eyes.

I tried not to roll my own eyes and got up. I opened the fridge, bent over and pulled out the pie and a bottle of milk. I waved it at him.

“Want a glass of milk, too?” I asked scornfully.

He was staring at my ass. At least that’s what it looked like. I guess when it’s the biggest thing in the room, it must be hard not to stare at it.

I waited for him to look up. He eventually did and gave me a bright, innocent flash of straight teeth.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Were you staring at my ass?”

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation. His eyes were round and crazy. Or playful, if you wanted to use a polite term for crazy.

I shook my head. I put the milk back in the fridge, without bending over this time, got out a fork and put a pie slice in front of him. I could feel the flames creeping up my neck and onto my cheeks.

He didn’t seem bothered by it.

“Obviously, I’ll need a napkin too,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Obviously,” I muttered, as I walked over to the drawer and tossed a napkin in front of him. I sat back down across from him and eyed him warily.

He folded it neatly a few times and then put it into his shirt pocket so it stuck out like a handkerchief. Then he dug into his pie, finishing it off in a few mouthfuls. He pushed his plate away and wiped his mouth with the back of hand, apparently forgetting about his napkin.

He noticed me. I guess I was staring again. He’d better get used to it though, it was hard not to when he was acting so...oh God, so many adjectives to use here.

“You’re not having anything?” He pointed at me with the fork.

“I don’t like pie,” I said feebly. That wasn’t true, but I don’t know why I lied.

“You don’t like pie? What kind of person doesn’t like pie?” He laughed. He reached forward and actually poked me in the arm with the fork. Lightly, but still. “You can’t be trusted.”

I instinctively batted the fork away from me. “You’re the one with the fork.”

He opened up my hand and placed the fork in it. “Now you have the fork.”

He sat back in his chair, looked down at his writing and thoughtfully scratched his sideburns. And just like that, it was—

“I just want you to enjoy the pies in life, Perry,” he shot in. “That’s all.”

“I enjoy...pies,” I managed to say. I wasn’t about to charm him with my wit, that’s for sure.

“Pies are a metaphor,” he said quickly. He exhaled.

Then slammed his fist down on the table. The pie plate jumped. I jumped. I’m pretty sure the twins in the other room jumped.

“All right, enough lollygagging,” he barked. “Let’s have a concrete plan of action for tonight. As much I love to fly by the seat of my pants and shit everywhere, I don’t think we can afford to do that this time. Maybe next time. Sound good?”

“Oh God, whatever,” I uttered under my breath.

“That’s the spirit,” he mused and started scribbling furiously on the paper. I soon realized he was drawing a detailed layout of the lighthouse.

“Now there were four levels, right?”

I couldn’t remember. “I don’t know. How far did you make it before I showed up?”

“Not to the top.” He finished the sketch and jabbed at the tower with the pen. “We’ll be going up there tonight.”

So much for having enough “events” to keep us in the safer downstairs levels.

He pointed to the house part of the building. “We’ll also hit up the second floor here now that we have the key. And I’d like to get you back into that bedroom again.”

I felt sick at that idea, remembering what Uncle Al had told me about the dead woman tied to the bed with kelp.

“I’ll try,” I said. “But I’m not going to do anything stupid. Got that?”

Dex gave me a quick smile. “Sure.”

It wasn’t very reassuring. I wondered if that was one of his lies.

We went on to discuss what equipment we would be bringing, what I should say to the camera and where the start and finish rooms were.

“We should probably have a safety word too,” he said.

“A safety word? Like in S&M?”

His eyes flashed, animated and bright. “The safety word is ‘Jell-O’.”

God help me if I ever had to say “Jell-O” for any reason.

I gave him a wry smile but his eyes were focused past me on the living room. I turned my head to see Matt and Tony standing there, whispering stuff into each other’s ears and giving us the stare down.

“Can we help you?” Dex asked.

“What’s up, boys?” I added in a more lighthearted tone.

The twins exchanged a quick glance before Matt came forward, eyeing Dex with trepidation.

“Uh, we, um, have kind of been listening to you guys and well…”

“We want to help,” Tony spoke up and joined his brother by his side.

“Okaaay,” I said slowly.

“We live here. It’s our lighthouse,” Tony went on, crossing his arms defiantly.

Matt rolled his eyes. “We just think we could help you. For your TV series, internet, whatever it is.”

“And how is that?” Dex asked in a school-teacher voice.

Another quick glance between the twins. I could tell Tony wanted to shoot his mouth off, but Matt pulled up a chair and sat down. He looked at Dex for acknowledgement but faced me to lay it all out. Good cop, bad cop.

“Perry, you know Whiz?”

How could I forget?

“Well,” he continued, “he has a small boat up by Nehalem Bay. We were going to go up there later today anyway to…well, do stuff. So, I was thinking we could take you out on the water. You know, so you guys could get some good shots of the lighthouse from that angle.”

The idea of going out on a boat, especially in crappy weather, was not at all appealing but I could see Dex was starting to give it serious thought. It’s like Matt knew the magic phrase was “good shots.” Seemed the way to Dex’s heart was anything that would help his filmmaking.

That, and pie.

Dex looked down at the drawings and then out the window at the grey sky. I waited for him to say something. We all did.

Finally he looked back at Matt and shrugged. “Sure, if you think it’s a good idea.”

He wanted to appear nonchalant, but I could tell he was probably kicking himself inside for not suggesting it in the first place. I guess some different shots and points of view really would add some variety to the way we’ve been doing things, and I know the twins had been feeling a bit left out during this ordeal which did happen to be on their property. Still, I felt uneasy about it. That was nothing new at this point—I was feeling uneasy just talking about pie—but going out on the water, with Whiz at the wheel no less, just seemed like some sort of accident waiting to happen.

Matt and Tony gave each matching grins. Tony laughed. “Good thing, cuz we already told Whiz about it. He’s waiting for us at the dock.”

Now it was time for Dex and me to exchange an uneasy glance. Figures we’d have the wool pulled over our eyes by them.

Uncle Al had stepped out for a bit, which was probably for the best. Despite having a thirty two-year-old, a twenty-two year-old and two nineteen-year-olds making their own decisions, I know he wouldn’t be too happy to hear we’d be going out boating, and with “The Whiz” no less.

We quickly got the equipment ready, plus found a few extra plastic bags and ponchos for emergencies in case the rain started to pick up again (inevitable), and headed to the twins’ truck.

Dex and I got into the narrow back seat, which for some reason had a crab trap taking up half of it. I didn’t know what the point of having a truck was if you weren’t going to keep things in the canopy part of it but now was not the time to question the twins on anything. Unfortunately, this meant that I had to practically sit on Dex’s lap.

OK, maybe it wasn’t that unfortunate. The seats themselves were damp and a bit moldy, whereas Dex’s leg was firm and warm. Did I mention firm? And warm?

Still, I couldn’t help but give him a quick, embarrassed smile for not only having the weight of one ass cheek and one thigh on top of him, but for being so close to him. I was literally right up there in his face.

“Sorry,” I said, my voice lowered. Because my lips were only inches from his, the last thing I wanted to do was breathe my stinky breath all over him.

He smirked, maybe thinking the same thing. Meanwhile I was aware that the twins were staring at us from the front.

“Yeah, sorry about the crab trap there,” Matt said, eyeing us in the rearview mirror. “We didn’t want to get it wet.”

No point even trying to figure that out. I just gave them a well-placed eye roll and we were on our way.

Of course, the road was a bit bumpy coming out of the driveway and I was instantly aware again of A) how much I weighed and B) how much my boobs jostled when they hit a pothole. I swear, they almost took Dex out at one point. I had to bite my lip hard to stop myself from laughing about it and avoided looking directly at him, as if he was a solar eclipse.

After twenty minutes of being way too aware of Dex’s body beneath me and his hot breath at the nape of my neck, and being subjected to nonstop Nickleback courtesy of the twin’s God-awful CD player, we finally rolled into a shoddy-looking marina littered with half-abandoned fishing trawlers and stacks of rotting crates.

We piled out of the truck and into the air, which was colder and wetter up here. Whiz sauntered over to us, looking every bit the punk that I remembered from a week ago: a scruffy face, fraying hoodie, and sleazy eyes. Actually, in the daylight, he looked older, too, which didn’t bode well considering he made out with my fifteen-year-old sister.

He greeted the twins like they were all from the same hood in Compton and gave Dex and me the head nod.

“What up, ghost hunters?” he said. “Ready to get f*cked up?”

“Uh,” I said, looking up at Dex. I could see Whiz was going to grate on his nerves in two seconds flat.

“We’ll get f*cked up later,” Matt said, and gestured to the boat. “How about we take the boat out first?”

“Sounds sensible.” Whiz laughed and took a mickey of rum out of his front pocket. He took a swig and winked at Dex and me. “It’s my right as a pirate.”

He walked off to the docks with the boys following close behind. I shook my head and muttered, “Can’t believe he made out with my sister.”

Dex laughed. “That f*ckwit made out with your sister? Isn’t she in high school?”

I sighed. “Yes, she is.”

He smirked at that. “I know you ladies like the bad boys and all...”

I chuckled, maybe too hard. “I don’t!”

He raised his brow at me, the ring catching the weak light.

“Good to hear,” he said with a sly grin, and started after the boys.

We walked down the slippery dock past leftover fish guts, missing planks, and barnacled hulls until we came to Whiz’s boat. Surprisingly, it wasn’t a shit heap like the rest of the boats seemed to be. It was just a small boat with seats and a tiny cabin at the front that had just enough room for a bed. I shuddered internally. I was glad Ada never got to see this place.

We climbed in, covered ourselves and the camera with ponchos (with Whiz driving, I now knew staying dry wasn’t going to be easy) and roared out of the harbor at such a speed that some old man on the docks was waving his fist at us and yelling at us to slow down.

Once we were out of the bay and into the open ocean, things got wild and fast. I was hanging onto my seat for dear life while Dex had to repeatedly yell at Whiz to take us down a few knots. With each wave we hit, the wetter we got. If Dex’s camera was going to get damaged from this, of all things, there would be hell to pay.

Finally, Whiz got the hint. Or rather, Matt took over the wheel and let Whiz and Tony finish the rest of the rum. The boat slowed to a comfortable enough speed that Dex was able to start shooting the shoreline.

We were quite a ways off from the lighthouse, but the pounding grey waves, bustling white surf, and stretches of pastureland and beaches were quite photogenic. And on the other side of us off on the horizon was the faded speck that was the Tillamook Lighthouse. Terrible Tilly.

I pulled the poncho tighter around me. I felt miserably damp and just a tiny bit seasick with each lurch of the boat. To turn my mind off of it, I watched Dex as he lined up the shots, adjusted his camera and panned around us.

“Are you going to need me to be in the shots?” I asked above the roar of the motor. Not that I was filming material at the moment with my damp, matted hair and garbage bag-type attire, but I could have used something to do to keep from throwing up. Funny how I’d never gotten seasick before.

“I think I’m good,” he said, keeping his eye on the viewfinder. “These will probably just have some narration over them later.” >

He gave me a quick, curious look. “Are you OK?”

I was about to answer when Whiz decided to shove the bottle of rum underneath my nose.

“This will fix you up!” he yelled, slurring already.

Well, that was enough to get me to move. I got up to my feet unsteadily, as the boat rocked all over the place, and made my way to the back.

“Hey, careful,” Dex said, grabbing my arm to steady me. I motioned for him to let me go. I felt uncomfortably close to vomiting.

I walked to the opposite edge of the boat, where the Pacific stretched to meet the matching sky, and went down on my knees.

“She’s gonna hurl!” Whiz yelled from the front.

“Shut the f*ck up,” I heard Dex tell him.

“You OK, Perry?” Matt asked, ignoring the two.

I motioned for them to just stop talking and leave me alone and concentrated on not losing my lunch over the side.

The bottom of the boat soaked my knees, but I didn’t care. I gripped the edge with my hands and put my head over until all I could see was the sloshing grey surf beneath me.

The guys were all yammering on about something, but somehow my brain was cooperating with me and slowly drowning them out, like my ears had a dimmer switch.

I kept my focus on the churning ocean, concentrating on the myriad of muted, cold colors and the shapes the creamy seafoam was creating with each crest and fall. The waves of nausea continued to pass through me though. The only thing that felt worse was the uneasiness and panic that also coursed through my veins. I was fearful and I didn’t know what of.

I closed my eyes and breathed in the salt air. The roar of the engine, the boys, and sound of the waves subsided until all I heard was the throbbing of my own heart in my head.

“Perry.”

It was a female voice.

I opened my eyes and looked. All I could see was the ocean.

“Perry,” it said again. It was eerily familiar and coming from in front of me. From the waves.

“Perry, are you OK?”

Could I be hearing things?

I slowly turned and looked at the rest of the boat. Dex’s back was to me, still filming the land and the lighthouse, which was now coming into view. Matt was focused on driving while Whiz was yapping to him about something. Tony seemed to be paying attention to him while eyeing me in his peripheral vision.

“Perry, help me,” I heard the voice say again from the direction of the water. My eyes widened and heart slowed. I had no choice but to look back over the edge of the boat.

In the water, it looked like something dark was moving beneath the waves. At first it looked like a passing shadow of a crest, or manipulation by a white cap. But the more I stared, the more I could make out something.

Was it an arm? It moved like one.

Then fingertips. I could see a hand just below the water’s surface.

I tried to scream, to say anything, to move. But I couldn’t. I could only watch a hand reach out of the water, turning from a watery shadow to a physical object. It was shades of green and white, but it was real, with blue veins running up the arm.

And then the arm was joined by another, like a headless person was treading water. I was riveted to the spot where the head should be. I could see the swirling shadows beneath it.

One of the hands started wagging a finger at me. I casually recognized the blue nailpolish on its finger. I had that same shade.

Still gripping the edge with my hands, I slowly got to my knees until I was standing right above and peering down at the body.

The head broke through the water.

It was me.

I was looking at myself floating in the water, eyeing myself down with dead, glassy eyes that streamed green fluid.

“Save me, Perry,” she said. My mouth dropped open. I felt like my body was going through a freefall. My mind reeled.

And before I could react, she lunged out of the water and grabbed hold of my poncho with both hands.

I let out a scream that shook my bones to their marrow and was pulled forward over the railing of the boat.

The water rushed up to greet me, turning black before it was about to swallow me into its depths.

Then I was grabbed from behind and pulled back up, just as my face could have kissed the waves.

I fell backwards into the boat. Someone caught me.

“Perry!” they yelled and the boat came to a full stop, throwing me further into the person.

It was Tony. He was gripping me hard from behind with both hands, while Dex had his hands on my shoulder, gently shaking me. It literally felt like forever before my eyes could actually focus on him.

“Jesus,” Dex swore, his eyes a mix of being worried and being pissed off.

“What just happened?” I asked, my breath finally coming back into my body.

I looked over at Whiz and Matt, who were watching me from the helm, looking more afraid than concerned.

“I think you had another incident, Perry,” Tony said quietly.

Dex gave Tony a sharp look but I ignored him. What had happened?

I turned to look back at the water. The waves rushed past as they always had. There was nothing there.

“You didn’t see her in the water?” I asked meekly, knowing how crazy that made me sound.

“See who?” Dex said. Tony let go of my arms and Dex pulled me in a little closer to him. “Who was in the water?”

I shook my head. “Forget it.”

“Seeing things again,” Matt spoke up.

“Shut up, Matt,” I said. Though frankly, it was kind of true.

I thought Dex would have jumped all over what he said, but he appeared to let it slide. “We were calling for you. You were just staring over at the water. I’m guessing you didn’t hear us.”

I nodded in agreement. I was feeling stupider by the minute.

He sighed and led me over to the seats. He snapped his fingers at Matt. “I think we should head back now. Do you have a lifejacket? Maybe a blanket or something?”

Tony disappeared into the cabin and came out with a lifejacket that Dex attempted to put on me.

“For your safety,” he said in all seriousness.

“Phfff,” I tried to swat him away. “I’m not a baby.”

Nonetheless, I was freaked out to my very being and let him put the jacket on me. Then he wrapped a smelly plaid blanket over me and the boat was heading back to shore.

“Guess you shoulda had some rum after all,” Whiz joked.

It didn’t sound like such a bad idea anymore. My mind was having trouble processing the events that anything to just shut it all down would be welcome.

We rode back in silence for most of the trip until Tony tapped me on the shoulder.

“Hey, do you still see that shrink?” he asked. It was a dicey question but his voice sounded innocent, like he was just curious. It didn’t mean I wanted to talk about my meetings with Dr. Freedman, our family psychologist.

“He wasn’t my shrink; he was my whole family’s shrink,” I said calmly as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“He was only there cuz of you,” Tony pointed out.

“Hey, bro!” Matt warned from the wheel. “Not the time or place to talk about it.”

Tony shrugged. “Sorry. It’s just, if you are seeing things again, maybe you should give him a call.”

“Seeing things again?!?” I repeated rather viciously. I had no clue what he was talking about.

I looked over at Dex and rolled my eyes to indicate it was all bullshit. Dex didn’t look too convinced.

“You’ve seen things before? What kinds of things?” Dex asked.

I sighed. “I haven’t. I wasn’t.” I looked at the twins. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tony.”

“Dad said you were sick. Like crazy, and that your parents were freaking out, like, almost going to commit you or—”

“Drugs, Tony. It was just drugs,” I spat at him defensively.

“Drugs?” Dex and Whiz said in unison.

“Oh, like anyone on this boat is one to talk,” I said. “So I did some drugs in high school. Everyone does.”

“Not everyone goes to a shrink because of them,” Matt countered.

“I did,” Whiz said. The first valuable thing he’d said so far.

“See,” I said. “Parents freak out. I was a big pain in the butt. I was an idiot, what can I say? But that’s in the past. It’s all fine now. I’m fine.”

No one looked convinced except Whiz, who went back to not caring. Dex looked the least convinced of all. He kept staring at me trying to figure me out, trying to read my thoughts.

I leaned back in my seat and rolled my head towards him. “Look. I’m tired. And sometimes you see things when you’re tired. You should know that by now.”

After all, it was only that morning that we were both faced with the impossibility that is Creepy Clown Lady. What was the difference?

And what if I wasn’t seeing things? What if I really had seen someone in the water? A ghost of myself. Was that even possible?

Dex chewed on his lip for a few counts, holding my eye contact, before saying, “Are you sure you can handle this?”

“What the f*ck?!” I swore. I surprised myself and everyone else on the boat. Even Dex was taken aback.

“Of course, I can handle this. What was the point of talking about all that stuff this morning? We decided that this is what we’re going to do, so this is what we’re going to do. Just because I saw something in the water doesn’t mean I’m not stable enough to keep going. We had a deal!”

“All right, it’s OK. Calm down,” he said, reaching over for my shoulder.

I inched it out of the way. The nerve of him telling me to calm down.

“It’s just that you almost fell into the ocean, and your cousins here are talking about how you used to go to a shrink. I know, it was the drugs or whatever unfortunate thing you were into as a teenager, but you know some knowledge about this would have been nice before we started.”

I let out a sarcastic guffaw. “Oh, so now the fact that we don’t know each other that well is becoming a problem. I see.”

He knew I was right. I had been trying to get nothing but information out of him this whole weekend, and now that the tables were turned, it was a problem for him.

“OK, kiddo. Just checking,” he said, and started reviewing the footage he had shot, as if nothing had happened.