The Haunted Traveler December Edition

36 complete as it had at the top of the steps. He noticed that there were a few dirt encrusted windows offering a meager bit of light around the walls on either side. Looking around, his eyes tried to pick out shapes in dim light.

“Hello?” he asked, his voice coming back to him off the stacked block walls of the foundation.

He felt stupid for saying anything, his voice felt out of place. Something else struck him odd. He thought that for lack of a better word, the house felt too quiet. Like it was somehow holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen. Another thought followed quickly on the heels of that one and it was that he hoped he was out of the house when it let that breath go.

That’s when he heard the sound and this time he knew what it was immediately.

It was the sound of cinder blocks scraping across a concrete floor. Hank thought he might’ve felt the vibrations in his feet from the sound, but couldn’t be sure. But, it wasn’t the sound itself that chilled Hank and made his stomach feel like it was dropping to his knees, no, it was the thought of what was dragging those blocks because it sure as hell wasn’t a raccoon or a possum.

Turning, he reached out for the handrail and launched himself up the steps. Just as his feet were finding the second step, he heard a squeak and looked up. He saw a bit of rope passing rapidly through a pulley and then watched as the rectangle of light making up the doorway shrunk, the basement door slamming shut with a powerful thud.

“Shit!” he yelled to the darkness.

This time, the cinder blocks sounded much closer.

“Well, I think it’s definitely better this way.”

“I guess.”

Carla reached over and tried to reassure Lily by patting her arm, as she stood unsteadily. She looked out the window at the beat up looking pickup truck Hank had parked in front of their childhood home across the street.

“Think mother’s done yet?”

“Oh, I think so. I definitely think so. I’m going to call and get the pickup towed, so one snoops too much.”

Lily sighed before asking, “How long will we have to do this?”

“As long as it takes.”

“Do you remember what daddy told us the night he left?” Lily asked.

“Yes. He looked right at me and said ‘There’s something wrong with mother’. His shotgun was on his shoulder and he looked more a little scared.

“Yes, he did,” Lily agreed.

“And, he was right,” Carla said, her eyes hardened shards of blue.

“Yes, he was.”