999_ Twenty-Nine Original Tales of Horror and Suspense - Al Sarrantonio [344]
Abruptly she stopped in her tracks and looked up.
Something was wrong, she felt. What was it?
The silence, she suddenly realized. No sounds. Not of the river nor of birds nor any life. She could hear herself breathing, hear the beat of her pulse.
This is weird!
Freeboard looked toward the village on the opposite shore. There wasn’t any fog and the night was clear. Shouldn’t there be lights? she wondered dimly. When she turned her gaze south toward Manhattan she blinked. And then suddenly her eyes were wide. She gaped numbly. She took a step backward, bewildered, frightened, and then cried out in outraged incredulity, “What?”
She turned and ran back toward the house.
Chapter Eleven
Breathless, Freeboard burst into the entry hall, closed the door with a bang and fell against it. She looked up at a sconce and then into the Great Room as all the mansion’s lights began to flicker down to dimness. “Terry?” she called quietly. She waited. No response. Cautiously she moved into the Great Room. “Terry?” she called out more loudly.
She glanced all around.
“Dr. Case? Anna?”
The silence grew stranger. Nothing moved. Freeboard walked to the library, scanned it quickly, and then rapidly moved to behind the bar, where she poured a few fingers of rye into a glass, gulped it, and then stood there, trying to collect herself. Then her eyes grew wide and she froze as she heard a sound like rusted hinges, and then of heavy stone grinding slowly over stone. It seemed to be coming from beneath her. Freeboard darted a numb look into the Great Room and the door beneath the staircase leading to the crypt.
Shit!
It was still unlocked and ajar.
Freeboard set down her glass and strode out of the library, calling out, “Terry? Terry, where the fuck are you?”
She looked up at the door to his room.
“You up there? Terry? Dr. Case?”
She went to the stairs and quickly ascended them and then walked to the door of Dare’s room. She knocked and called, “Terry?” but immediately burst into the room without waiting for an answer.
Dare was packing a suitcase that lay on the bed.
“Do come in,” he said tartly. He didn’t look up.
Freeboard flung the door loudly shut behind her.
“I’m beginning to think that you’re right!” she said tremulously.
She swooped to the bed, sat down and watched him arranging a shirt in the bag. “I’m beginning to think there are ghosts,” she admitted. Dare threw his hands into the air and quickly turned to her, squalling, “But I don’t want to be right about that!”
“I’m getting freaked, Terry. Really.”
Freeboard held up her hands to her own inspection.
“Look at this! I mean, look at this! My hands are shaking!”
Dare looked down and saw the trembling, then said softly, “Oh, my dear!” He dropped the lid on the suitcase and sat down beside her. Taking hold of her hands, he tightly clasped them in his own.
“Why, my dear, dear Joan,” he said to her worriedly.
He looked into her eyes.
“Yes, you truly are frightened. Terribly.”
She glanced at the telephone receiver; it was lying on its side on a bedstand. She could hear the dull ringing at the other end.
“Is that the boat you’re calling, Terry?”
“Trying. Tell me, precious, what has happened? Tell me all.”
“Take a look out the window.”
“There aren’t any.”
“Right. Holy shit, Terry!”
“What, Joan? What is it?”
She bent and put a hand to her chest, as if trying to catch her breath. “I went outside,” she told him haltingly. “The sky’s clear, there’s a moon, big stars. But there isn’t any city there, Terry; there’s no skyline of Manhattan—no lights, no planes, no nothing!” She looked up into his eyes. “God, I’m really getting scared, Terry. What’s going on with this place? I wish—”
She halted. Something was different. Her glance flicked over to the telephone receiver. Dare said, “What?” Then he followed her gaze.
“The ringing,” said Freeboard. “It stopped.”
The silence that had settled on the room