Hudson House [Now available for the Kindle]

Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

A fat priest in black with a pasty face asked for God's mercy to ascend Eric's mother's soul to His heavenly quarters. The laughter had stopped. Maybe the people were thinking of their own deaths and the likelihood of their ascensions.

After the prayers and sobs-his father's eyes burning red-the people who had come to see Eric's mother a final time began to leave. Tommy, however, stayed next to Eric.

"We should go back," he said.

"No."

For once, Eric wanted to heed his brother's advice. Things worse than demons, his brother had said.

"You didn't let me explain."

"I don't want to hear it. There is no reason." His father was hugging some old woman Eric had never seen before. They were both crying.

"Can I explain? Are you going to scream again?"

Eric bit his tongue.

"I told you that I think the house killed your mother," Tommy said. "It makes perfect sense. We weren't supposed to go in there, we did, and then she died. That's not a . . . what's it called?"

"Coincidence?"

"Yeah, whatever. It's not that. Can't be. Entering the house screwed things up somehow. We invaded its territory so it felt the right to screw with ours. It went after your mother because you entered the house first, but that doesn't mean I'm not next, or Ed."

Where was Ed? Eric hadn't seen him. Had he even escaped the house?

"So what if it did," Eric said. "My mother's dead and we can't change that, can we? We can't make her alive again, right?" The urge to scream rose again. He touched the piece of his mother's scalp in his pocket.

"No," Tommy agreed. "We can't."

"Why go back then? So the house can kill my father this time?"

"We need to go back so that the house won't kill anyone else."

"By talking to it? Making a deal with it?" Would the woman in white listen to their offer or would she slice them as she had her arms?

A heavy hand settled on Eric's shoulder and he thought his brother had come back to drag him outside again. Or worse, his brother might be in his presentable and loving mode, the disguise he wore when strangers were around. Eric always wanted to tell those people that Steve really wasn't a caring big brother; he was a mean bastard who loved hurting Eric any way and any time he could. But the hand belonged to his father's best friend, Uncle Pete, so called even though he had no family relation.

"You holding together?" Uncle Pete asked.

Stupid adult questions. "Yeah, I'm okay, I guess."

"Glad to see you're with your friends. Times like these are why friends exist. Be good to each other, boys."

They nodded and Uncle Pete lumbered past them toward Eric's father. When he reached him, they embraced and Eric's father gushed out fresh tears. Eric tried to picture Tommy and himself sharing a similar moment.

"I saw something," Tommy said.

Had he noticed Eric's mother's chest slowly rising and falling with life?

"When you left me in there, I saw something."

The punch of guilt subsided rapidly. "I saw something, too," Eric said. "I saw the woman."

Tommy's mouth hung for a moment. "I know I didn't believe you, but-"

"What does it matter? I saw her. Bloody arms and everything."