The Fall of Never(146)

“You…you were taking care of Becky here at the house. After the accident, you…it was your idea to keep her home and not at the hospital, wasn’t it? You’ve been looking after her, been—” She shuddered at the thought, her heart breaking, but it needed to be asked. “You were keeping her unconscious, weren’t you? All along. That’s why her door was locked sometimes. You were giving her sedatives.”

“You don’t understand anything!” Glenda cried. Overhead the chandelier flickered. Bits of plaster were dropping from the ceiling now. “You’ve been away for too long and don’t understand anything!”

“Did you keep her this way so I’d come back?”

“Kelly—”

“What did you think would happen? Did you think I’d come home and everything would be like it was?”

“I knew that if you came home, that thing in the woods could make you stay,” Glenda breathed. “I knew there was a way.”

“No.” She shook her head, looped an arm around Becky’s shoulders. “There is no way.”

The weight of the chandelier became too much for the weakening ceiling, and it suddenly plunged several feet before its cables caught, preventing it from crushing them all. Becky screamed and pushed her face against Kelly’s body. Glenda didn’t even look up; her eyes were pushing against Kelly’s flesh, her face and her own eyes.

“If this house comes down,” the old woman said, “then it comes down with all of us in it. Like a family.” She took another step closer to Kelly. “I won’t let you leave. I’m not going to let the Baby out.”

From her housecoat, Glenda produced a carving knife. Kelly followed the blade, her mind unable to comprehend this sudden twist. She felt something nudge her at the back of her mind. It was like the resurgence of power from earlier, only ineffectually faint now. She almost caught a whiff of coffee and cologne and thought: Josh?

“Glenda,” she said, pushing Becky behind her with one hand, “stop it. Let us get to the door. We’re all going to die in here.”

“Then that is how it was meant to be.”

Holding the knife out in front of her, Glenda took a step closer to Kelly, backing her and her sister toward the wall. The floor shook and marble tiles like land mines exploded randomly along the floor.

“Jesus, Glenda, we’re all going to die!”

“Shhhhh! Close your eyes and rest your head, Sweet Babe.”

Behind Kelly, the wall erupted in a shower of plaster and wood. She felt her back pelted with debris and heard Becky shout in pain. A long piece of molding sliced through the air and slammed Glenda in the leg but the old woman did not even notice. Her eyes were blinded by fanatical rage and a mother’s deep abandonment. The knife wavered slightly in her hand.

“Then let Becky go,” Kelly said. “Then it will just be you and me, Glenda, just like when I was younger. All right? You and me.”

“No!” Becky sobbed. “Kelly, no!”

“Glenda!” she shouted. “Come on! You and me, Glenda. Let Becky run out. Let her leave.”

The old woman’s mouth worked, her small teeth biting over her lips. She flicked the knife in the direction of the front door just as a floor tile exploded a few feet behind her. “Yes,” she said, “like before.” She looked at Becky. “Go.”

Becky shook her head, gathering fistfuls of Kelly’s clothes.

“Get out!” Glenda shouted. A mess of blood vessels had erupted across her nose and forehead—dark purple spider-webs.

“Go, honey,” Kelly urged, trying to pull the girl off her clothes. “Becky—go and run. Run straight out of this town.”

“No!”

A sound like a giant elastic band snapping filled the house, and one of the electrical cables suspending the chandelier snapped free of the ceiling and whipped across the air like a scourge. The severed end, spitting electric current, struck the floor in a fireworks demonstration, and slid halfway across the tile, leaving behind a trail of brilliant sparks. The severed end struck a wall, which quickly burst into flames.

Now, Josh’s voice spoke up in her head. Run, Kelly. Now’s your chance.

She grabbed Becky by the wrist and took off for the front door. Beneath her feet, the floor bubbled and shifted and reached out to grab her ankles. Behind her, she could feel the immense and abrupt heat of the fire, could hear Glenda shouting at them in anguished, defeated sobs.

No one wants to be left alone, she thought as she ran.

Seconds before she hit the front door, it blew off its hinges and out into the night, as if scooped up and away by a passing tornado. The faint stink of citron stung her nose and a sneeze exploded from her face. Freezing air rushed into the room. She broke out into a fever sweat.

Hitting the porch, she urged Becky down the steps while fighting off her own hesitation. She could not shake the image of her parents on the landing, staring at her with bitter resolve. That wasn’t them. Just as Kelly had been robbed of parents, they’d been robbed of being parents. This house. This heart. Was this just another thing she was running away from? Was this something that would keep her awake at night, thinking again about the people she’d left behind? I tried, her father had told her that night in the basement. And I’m trying even now. They were both trapped under the spell of the house…