Echoes (Whisper Trilogy Book 2) Page 6

  Alex’s constant questions were like a barrage, a never-ending slew of words designed to break down defenses. Peer pressure at its finest. Cody squirmed, and glanced at Emma. This time she didn’t look away. She kept her brilliant blue eyes locked on his, and although it was entirely possible he was imagining it, he thought she might just be getting off on the danger. As was always the case with the male species, groin overruled brain, and with cocky assurance which was a world away from what he actually felt, Cody snorted and shrugged.

  “If it really means so much, then fine, let’s do it.”

  Cody could feel Scott’s eyes burning into him at the violation of their unspoken agreement not to go back.

  “It’s settled,” Alex said, clapping Cody on the shoulder. “We’ll head up there this weekend. How does Friday night sound?”

  The rest of the group murmured their inclusion and began to arrange who would buy the weed, how they would get out of the house and away from suspicious parents. Only Scott remained silent, watching and wondering how the initial conversation had ever gotten to this particular point.

  “What do you say, Scotty? You up for revisiting Hope House?” Cody asked, hating himself for putting his friend on the spot. Peer pressure or not, he felt like a complete dick.

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever man,” Scott mumbled.

  “You sure?”

  “I said I’d go, didn’t I?”

  “Relax, I was just making sure. It should be fun.”

  “I thought you said there was no reason to go back.”

  Cody’s fake smile faltered for a second. “It’s not a big deal. It’s something to do at least.”

  The two friends locked eyes, a conversation playing out between them which needed no words. Each knew the other well enough to understand exactly what they were thinking behind the bravado and bullshit talk.

  “You don’t have to convince me. I’ve already said I’ll go. Stop making such a big deal out of it,” Scott said, glaring at his friend, feeling hurt and betrayed.

  “Glad to hear it. We’ll make a night of it,” Cody replied, hating what he was becoming.

  Just like that, plans had been made. Snatches of those voices which had invaded Cody’s head last time they were at the clearing drifted back to his mind, bringing the memories of the violence he felt so compelled to inflict back in sharp clarity. He forced them aside, telling himself it would be different this time. There would be more of them together, which in theory would make the entire experience a lot less unusual. Most importantly, and the primary reason he had so readily agreed was because Emma would be there. Maybe, just maybe he might find a way to pluck up the courage to get her on her own and find out how she felt; with luck, in the literal sense. Ignoring the sick feeling in his stomach, he headed outside for a smoke.

  II

  The fresh air didn’t help his mood. The smell of grease from the burger place down the street wafted in the air, simultaneously making Cody hungry and a little nauseous. Scott joined him, sitting on the town hall steps and resting his chin on his knees.

  “Why did you do it?” he asked as Cody expelled smoke from his nostrils.

  “Do what?”

  “Say you’d go back up there?”

  “What’s the matter with you?” he said, keeping his eyes firmly on the ground.

  “I don’t like being bullied into doing something I don’t want to. We agreed we didn’t need to go back there, remember?”

  Cody remembered well enough: the feel and weight of the heavy wire-cutters in his hand, the insane desire to smash his friend’s skull into a bloody pulp. He kept it to himself of course. It was far too disturbing a thing to ever tell anyone. As much as he knew Scott was right. Pride made him argue his case, even if he didn’t agree with it.

  “Yeah, I remember. It’ll be different this time. There will be more of us. Come on, you must understand why I agreed?”

  Scott kicked his feet against the concrete, and looked his friend dead in the eye.

  “I don’t want to go back there.”

  Although he didn’t immediately react, Cody felt the hairs on his arms stand to attention. Alex and the others were heading outside now though, and as much as he hated himself for doing it, he broke into a cocky grin.

  “Hell, if you’re scared, just say so. Nobody is forcing you to come,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  “What’s going on?” Alex said as he stood between the two friends.

  “Scott doesn’t want to go on Friday,” Cody said, handing the half-smoked cigarette to Alex.

  “You being a pussy Scotty?” Alex said, breaking into his grating hyuck hyuck chuckle. Cody hated his laugh. In fact he hated Alex and wondered why the hell he wasn’t standing up for his friend instead of embarrassing him.

  Scott gave Cody a pained look, as he tried to redeem himself.

  “It’s not that, it’s just… I don’t see the point.”

  “Then don’t go,” Alex said, sneering at Scott as he handed the cigarette back. “It’s not like anyone’s forcing you to be there.”

  Scott squirmed. It was a get-out clause, of that there was no doubt. He just didn’t want to live with the shit-storm which would come after, and spend the foreseeable future being called a coward.

  “No, I’ll be there. I didn’t know it was such a big deal,” Scott said as he looked at Cody with cold indifference.

  “You sure you won’t get scared?” Alex said, this time getting a few chuckles from the rest of the group.

  “Fuck off, I’m not in the mood for this.”

  “Take it easy, what’s the matter with you? Time of the month?”

  Scott fought off an overwhelming urge to punch Alex right in the mouth. He wasn’t sure how long he could resist, so stood up and hopped down the remaining steps.

  “Screw this, I’m out of here.”

  “Hey, I was just screwing around,” Alex said.

  “I know, I just have some stuff to do. I suppose I’ll see you all on Friday.”

  “I’ll walk with you,” Cody said, pushing off the wall and starting towards his friend.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll catch up with you later,” Scott said as he shoved his hands into his pockets and walked away, head down against the wind. Cody watched him go, thinking that, on the friend scale, he was probably lower than a snake’s belly.

  “That guy’s a fuckin’ pussy. Why do you even hang with him?” Alex said, making sure he was loud enough for Scott to hear as he walked away.

  Knowing too much had been said already, Cody remained silent and watched his friend go. He couldn’t say it to the rest of the group, even if he knew exactly where Scott was coming from. He was afraid too.

  III

  A fine drizzle was falling from leaden skies as Henry Marshall drove down the bumpy access road. The plan was to eventually widen it to accommodate two lanes of traffic more comfortably, but for now he was content to leave it as it was, happy that the overhanging trees and general gloomy appearance only served to help sell the ominous atmosphere of the place. He drove past a wooden billboard by the side of the road, illuminated by bright spotlights from the top and bottom of the frame, and penned in a bright red font against a pale blue background.

  WELCOME TO RIVERWOOD!

  Site of the infamous Hope House!!

  The Brand new hotel brought to you by

  Marshall-Jones Developments.

  OPENING THIS DECEMBER!

  He grimaced at the sight of Jones’s name. The initial plan was to buy the land outright, yet Jones had insisted on keeping some of it, taking a percentage of the hotel income. In itself, it wasn’t an issue, however with his brother also expecting a share, it was rapidly dwindling his potential profit margins. Still, he wasn’t there to be negative; he had come to see his creation.

  The road began to smooth under the wheels of his jeep, and he saw it appear out of the mist like some long forgotten relic from the past. The trees which had once surrounded Hope House ha
d been hewn away, leaving a bright, open space. Gravel and concrete had replaced grass and weeds, and there, right where Hope House had sat, was the hotel. The building was a long rectangular shape, with forty rooms across four floors. It certainly looked spectacular, its whitewashed façade modeled on the house which had formerly stood there, yet with a modern twist. The build was mostly complete aside from a few windows still needing to be placed into frames, and the interior wiring, furnishings and the like which needed to be finalized. Some of the upper floors were still under construction, however the lobby, restaurant and first two floors would be operational for opening night.

  He had made several trips to the site over the last few months, but this was the first on a Sunday when he knew the place would be free of the monotonous shriek of drills or the relentless pounding of hammers. He pulled the car into the parking space nearest the building and, climbing out, breathed in the fresh, rain-filled air. It was so peaceful, so quiet. There were already provisional plans for a new wing, a second taller expansion directly behind the current one, standing seven floors in height and containing some luxury rooms overlooking the forest. It would mean pulling up yet more trees of course, but he was fine with that. Business comes first, screw the environment.

  You shouldn’t have come here

  He stared into the woods, pausing at the unfinished entrance to the hotel. Had he seen something? A shadow moving just on the edge of his vision?

  “Hello?” he said, his voice sharp and crisp in the silence.

  He listened.

  Birds sang. Rain fell with a steady rhythm.

  Don’t be stupid, Henry, you’re imagining things.

  Yes. He supposed he was. As beautiful as it was, there was no denying the decidedly eerie charm to the place. There was an unsettling aura which he hoped would remain when everything had been finished, as it would help to further sell his illusion. He turned back to the entrance and glanced at the sign above the door. It used to hang over the old entrance to the property, and, rather than throw it away, he’d decided to show it off. The wood was old and knotted, worn by exposure to the elements. He stared at the single word hand-carved into its surface.

  Hope.

  Marshall smiled as he read the word again, trying to imagine how it would unsettle his guests to know that the man who’d carved the sign had taken his own life from the very frame where it used to hang just moments after completing it. He made a mental note to have some kind of plaque made, some information for the eager tourist looking to take a glimpse into the horrors of what used to be. It—

  This place is a monstrosity.

  He drew breath and peered into the shadow-draped recesses of the hotel entrance.

  You shouldn’t have woken the dead.

  The words in his head had been spoken in his voice, but they hadn’t belonged to him. He hadn’t said them.

  He thought about speaking again, calling out to see if anyone would answer, when instantly, those probing words were there in his head again.

  We hear you.

  “Who’s there?” he croaked, trying to make a show of being authoritative, knowing that those who spoke to him didn’t do it from the shadows of the building. They were already in his mind. He heard laughter, sick, sadistic laughter.

  Come closer, let us show you, let us teach you.

  The words were now being spoken in his late father’s voice, a man who had shown Henry little love or affection over the years.

  “Dad?” he whispered, barely loud enough to be heard.

  Thick, throaty laughter echoed around his mind, causing him to clench his fists and grit his teeth.

  You know who we are. You disturbed our rest.

  Images were thrust into his mind’s eye – images of the countless bones, the innumerable human remains found during the deforestation to make room for the hotel. He’d lost count of them. Young and old, fragments of people who’d found their end in Oakwell forest. He saw himself examining a tiny, perfectly-formed skull. He remembered this happening, yet he was watching now not from his own perspective, but from the trees, as if through the eyes of another. He could see the frown on his face as he was turning the skull over and over in his hands.

  The right thing would have been to report it, yet to do so would surely see the end of the project. He watched himself turn to the foreman who was waiting for his instructions.

  “Bury them,” he’d said in perfect time with the vision of himself in his head. They had. Countless human remains were interred in the earth and encased in concrete as the foundations of the hotel were being laid.

  He knew it was those which spoke to him now, a swirling vortex of voices cascading around his mind.

  Let us show you, let us teach you.

  Help us get our vengeance.

  He closed his eyes and covered his ears, letting out an almighty roar as he fell to his knees.

  The ground was softer than it should have been, so he opened his eyes. He was no longer in front of the hotel. Instead, he was kneeling in the circle, his trouser legs wet, hands filthy. How and when he had arrived there he wasn’t able to say. All he knew for sure was how much his bones were aching from exposure to the cold. The shadows had grown long as the day had faded and draped the spaces between the trees in inky emptiness. Confused, he trudged back the way he’d come, numb to the sounds of the trees as they shook and spoke their secret language. He barely flinched as branches scratched and clawed at his skin, nor did he acknowledge the cold, which was biting with relentless monotony. He didn’t even notice the lights on the hotel – those which were wired in at least – flicking on and off at random as he staggered to his car. All he could concentrate on was the high pitched hum in his brain while driving home. That and the name he just couldn’t get to leave his mind, no matter how much he tried.

  Donovan.

  CHAPTER 7

  “There it is,” Alex said as he crouched in the brush. Cody shifted position, watching as the last of the workmen left the hotel. Scott was beside him, kneeling on one knee. Communication between them had reduced to almost zero since the decision to go back to the site had been made, and even though neither of them outwardly expressed anything, it was causing a huge strain on their friendship.

  “It doesn’t look creepy at all,” Alex said with more than a hint of frustration.

  “It did when we last came here,” Scott whispered. “When it was just what was left of the house…”

  Alex glanced over his shoulder at Emma and the others, and let out a cocky bark of laughter. “Jesus, Scott, give it a rest. Stop being such a pussy.”

  “Hey, there’s no need for that,” Cody cut in, hoping his friend would appreciate the gesture. Scott however simply stared at the hotel.

  “Well, what are we waiting for? Are you girls ready?” Alex said as he stood and shrugged out of his backpack.

  With more reluctance than he would admit to, Cody followed. Twelve of them had initially planned to come on the camping trip, yet only five of them had showed up, the rest having given their excuses as to why they couldn’t be there. As Cody walked towards the dark shell of the hotel, he wondered if those who’d decided not to come were the smartest of all. Other than Cody, Alex and Scott, Emma had brought her friend Carrie. They had all met up earlier in the morning, and immediately started drinking the vodka Carrie had managed to sneak out of the house. She was an attractive girl, and seemed unashamed to be a little heavier than average. She had striking green eyes, and although she wore too much makeup, it was easy to see she would be naturally beautiful without it. As a result of the early start on the alcohol, they were already quite drunk. More than ever, Cody was certain Emma was giving him the eye. Every time he glanced at her she turned away, before giving him another furtive look. It was classic cat and mouse, girl meets boy. He wasn’t very confident when it came to girls, especially not ones like Emma who Scott told him on numerous occasions was way out of his league. Even so, he was starting to think he might have half a chance with he
r if, of course, he could get her on her own and away from the rest of the group, Alex in particular. Unlike Cody, Alex was supremely confident with the opposite sex. He had the maddening ability to draw them to him, even though he wasn’t attractive by any standards. Despite the crooked teeth and acne which covered his cheeks like the landscape of some newly discovered planet, his supreme and total confidence made up for his shortfalls. He took great pleasure in telling the others how he had already done it with three girls, all of them older than him. To hear him talk about it was enough to cause doubts, his sexual exploits as he described them sounding more on the impossible side of human flexibility. Alex had recently turned his attention towards Emma of late, no doubt because he knew Cody liked her too, and wanted to mark out his territory. Either way, Cody didn’t like it. He took another quick look at Emma, a flick of the eyes, and caught her watching him again. His groin stirred a little, at least until he realized they were now in the shadow of the hotel, which was enough to dampen any thoughts of drunken fumbling for the time being at least.

  “Is this it?” Alex said, poking his head through one of the window cavities.

  “What did you expect? It’s not finished yet.”

  Alex stared at Scott, and in the half-gloom, he resembled a pale-faced ghoul.

  “You finally found your voice. I thought you were too scared to come here.”

  “I respect the place, there’s a difference. You should all do the same.”

  Cody wanted to interject, but didn’t know how to or even what to say. He sensed Emma standing next to him, and the sweet smell of her perfume brought depraved thoughts of slitting her throat and drinking her hot, bitter blood to mind. He gasped, the vivid nature of the imagery startling him and causing everyone to look in his direction.

  “Cody, are you alright?” Emma said, touching his arm lightly.

  He didn’t answer, and for what felt like an eternity, couldn’t move. The thought of hurting her, of doing those things which had been so vivid in his mind’s eye, were completely alien to him but were growing stronger. More real. Anger, small and concentrated in the pit of his stomach, began to swell, growing and bubbling as he thought of new ways to hurt his friends. He was aware of Emma in his personal space, fingers resting lightly on his forearm, her brow contorted into a concerned frown. His mind raced, the rage bubbled. He looked at her fingers, long and thin, the nails painted in a deep purple. Her touch was gentle, and he knew why. It was because of the way she touched boys like him. Light and without pressure, teasing and suggesting things she might do if only you were willing to ask. He understood now. The way she really was.