Reverberations

 

Reverberations

By Lisa McCourt Hollar

Jessie didn’t know how the fire had gotten out of control so fast.

Panic coursed through her as she raced toward the back of the house. Heat from the flames seared her back, driving her forward. If she stopped, she wouldn’t make it out.

Something crashed behind her.

She resisted the urge to look back, to witness the destruction of her home. Focusing on the door ahead, she pushed on. Only a few more feet.

Her heart pounded in her ears, competing with the wail of sirens outside.

The door was right there.

She didn’t check the handle for heat. She just turned it and shoved it open.

“Mommy?”

Heidi was crouched in the corner.

Jessie dropped to her knees and crawled to her daughter, pulling her into her arms. They couldn’t go back the way Jessie had come, but there was the window.

She didn’t think. She just moved.

She shoved it open, climbed onto the ledge, and with her daughter cradled in her arms, she jumped.

Behind her, the man, or something wearing the man’s shape, stood and lurched toward the window.

He couldn’t go after them. There were too many witnesses.

He turned and moved back through the house, waving the fire out of his way as he went. The flames bent to his will.

Before long, so would his wife and daughter.

Francine sat up, gasping for breath.

The image of the fire clung to her.  She coughed, clearing invisible smoke from her lungs.

Her bedroom door flew open and Francine's room was invaded by a tumble of blond hair and pink pajamas. Her roommate.

Deb looked around, confused. “I heard you scream. What’s wrong?”

“I had a nightmare.”

She wrinkled her nose and sniffed the air. “It’s not like you to have bad dreams.”

She went still. She didn’t like what she smelled.

Smoke?

A warning growl rumbled low in Deb's throat.

“It wasn’t a dream,” Francine said. “What I saw is happening. Now.”

Fire engines screeched through the night somewhere nearby.

Deb moved to the window. “Are you saying you had a premonition? That’s not something you’ve ever done before.”

“I don’t think I did. Someone was reaching out to me. Asking for help.”

Francine grabbed my phone and checked the time before dialing.

Five p.m.

The sun was still up, which meant she couldn’t leave. Not unless she wanted to go for the smoldering look.

The phone rang. Another beep cut in, signaling a call waiting. Francine glanced at the screen.

Hunter.

Her heart jumped. They were connected in ways she couldn’t explain. He must have felt her distress.

The line clicked.

“Hello, The Corner Shop. Can I help you?”

“Carl, I need you to close the shop and get over here. Something has come through, and it’s bad.”

Three Months Later

“You have a beautiful daughter…” The man glanced at her name tag. “Jenny? How old is she?”

Jessie narrowed her eyes, studying him.

He chuckled and held up his hands. “I’m not a pervert. I just couldn’t help noticing. She has startling eyes. Unusual. My grandmother calls them twilight eyes.”

“She’s blind.”

He turned to study the girl again. She sat quietly in the diner’s corner, out of the customers’ way. A piece of paper lay in front of her, and she appeared to be drawing.

“She’s always had a gift for pictures,” Jessie said. “I thought that would stop after she lost her sight, but it’s almost like she still sees the world, just differently than the rest of us.”

“She hasn’t always been blind?”

“No. It happened a few months ago. There was a fire.”

She refilled his glass and started to walk away, but he stopped her, touching her arm.

She flinched.

His fingers were cold.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said softly. “How old is she?”

“I don’t see why you need to know.”

“I’d say… eleven years old?”

She froze.

A gun protruded from beneath his coat.

Across the room, Heidi turned her head toward them.

He leaned close and whispered, “Jenny… or is it Jessie? How long did you think you could run?”

Her hands trembled. He gently took the pitcher from her before she could drop it and set it on the counter.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Hopefully the man who’s going to save your life.”

Heidi approached, holding out the paper she’d been drawing.

Jessie reached for it, but the girl stepped past her.

“It’s for him,” Heidi said.

The man took the paper and turned it so Jessie could see.

Drawn in thick red marker was a man wearing a wide-brimmed hat.

“Daddy,” Heidi said. “He’s coming.”

“He died in a fire three months ago,” Jessie said.

She had closed the diner early, chasing out every customer except the man. Julio had offered to stay, eyeing the stranger suspiciously, but Jessie insisted she would be fine and sent him home with pay for the full day.

“How did the fire start?” the man asked.

“I was going to leave him. I was afraid for Heidi. The night before…” Her voice caught.

Heidi sat in her corner again, no longer drawing. She stared at the door like she expected someone to walk in.

“He raped her?” the man asked quietly.

Jessie nodded. “If I hadn’t walked in when I did… she was crying, begging him to stop. He ran when I came in. He didn’t come back that night, but I knew he would eventually.”

She swallowed.

“So the next morning, I started packing. When he came home, he hit me. Said I wasn’t taking his little girl from him. My sister had given me a gun for protection. Somehow it was in my hand. I don’t even remember grabbing it. But when I realized what I was holding, I shot him.”

“Sounds like self-defense.”

“The bullet didn’t kill him. He went crazy. I shot him again. And again. He just kept coming. Then he knocked me out.”

She hugged herself.

“When I woke up, he was pouring gasoline all over the house. The gun was still in my hand. His back was to me. I shot him again, but he had a match. When the bullet hit him, he dropped it. The whole place went up in flames.”

“Why didn’t you tell the police? You’re wanted for murder.”

“They wouldn’t have believed me. He was one of theirs.”

“So you ran.”

“I thought we could start over. A new life. I had money saved. But then…”

“Your husband wasn’t so dead after all?”

She gave a hollow laugh. “He died. There’s no doubt about that. At least his body did. His spirit, or whatever evil was inside him…”

She trailed off.

“In a way, I’m relieved you found me. Maybe prison is safer.”

“I’m not a cop,” he said. “My name is Carl. I’m a paranormal investigator. My sister and I help people like you.”

The lights flickered, then they went out. It wasn't dark outside, but the shadows in the diner grew around them, blocking out the light from the windows. 

Jessie shot to her feet and grabbed Heidi.

“This way,” the man said, taking her hand as they ran toward the kitchen and the back door.

Behind them, the front glass door shattered.

A table screeched across the floor, blocking their path.

Then a voice drifted through the darkness, cold and familiar.

“Daddy’s home.”