Free Latham's Landing by Tara Fox Hall Page A

twisted and broken.
    “ I saw him outside,” Marie whispered.
“I thought I’d drawn him from my imagination. But he was real. And
there was a girl playing a flute on the shore—”
    “ There was another one I saw on the
shore, too,” Daryl said, putting several large plastic boxes in
front of the door. He went deeper into the shadowed interior. There
came the sound of creaking metal. “This boathouse is relatively
new, compared to the rest of Cairn Isle. There are no windows, just
this back door and the overhead one. There’s no electric opener.
It’s manual, and locked just like the other door was. If there is
one non-haunted safe place here, this should be it.”
    Marie managed a smile. “So what’s the new
plan?”
    “ Stay here tonight, and then light the
place on fire in the morning,” Daryl said. “They’ll see it for
miles. We’ll also see if that small inflatable raft is any good.
Either way, someone is bound to pick us up. We just have to make it
to dawn.” He reached out and touched her hand. “Thanks for coming
back for me.”
    Marie cast her eyes down. “I was an ass for
leaving. I’m sorry.”
    “ It doesn’t matter,” Daryl said,
yawning. “Do you want some food? I can take the first watch, if
you’re tired.” He offered her some bread. “This and peanut butter
was all I had time to grab.”
    “ Thanks,” Marie said
gratefully.
    They divided up the food, then wolfed it
down.
    “ Sleep,” Daryl said, leaning back
against the side of the shed. “I’ll watch.”
    Marie sank down on the cold floor. “I’m sorry
again, Daryl.”
    “ It’s okay,” he said tiredly. “Get some
sleep.”
     
    Marie opened her eyes. The propane lantern
was lit, casting shadows. Daryl wasn’t there.
    Fear crashed into her. She sat up, then put
her back to the wall.
    A soft noise broke the quiet. Then came the
steady pattering of feet, light, almost like a cat. It paused, then
began stealthily to creep toward her.
    Marie stood, grabbing up the lantern. She
shoved the boxes aside, then dashed outside, slamming the door
behind her.
    The darkness was lessening. It had to be
close to dawn. Marie could see the water had receded to where it
had been before the storm, the granite landing and walls again
revealed. To her relief there was no sign of Nikki’s body or
Sam’s.
    “ Daryl?” she called.
    “ He’s in the house,” a familiar voice
said gently. “That part’s over.”
    Marie whirled. The horseman stood there, his
expression solemn.
    “ Stay back,” she whispered, backing
away.
    “ Come,” he said, offering his
hand.
    “ No,” she cried. She turned into empty
air, her feet losing purchase on the slippery rock. She teetered,
then fell.
    Strong arms grabbed her. “No,” the horseman
whispered. “Don’t die again. You don’t need to.”
    Marie let out a scream, fighting frantically.
The horseman held her tightly. She fought for a few moments, then
went limp in his arms, sobbing.
    “ You were the strongest,” the horseman
whispered lovingly. “The others died that first night—”
    Fear overcame Marie’s mind. She twitched,
shaking harder and harder. “No, it was a dream Sam and Daryl
had—”
    “ It was not,” the horseman corrected.
“Nor was your drowning. Your spirit made it back when called.” He
pointed down to the water near the stone bridge. “Your flesh lies
there.”
    On the shoreline a figure stood, long hair
blowing in the wind. Familiar notes of melancholy recorder music
floated on the damp breeze. Marie’s eyes moved out from the figure,
taking in the bodies in the water. Nikki floated there, along with
Daryl and Sam, their chests bloody. Farther off, alone in the
gently lapping waves, was her own body.
    “ No!” she screamed. “No! Daryl was
alive! We were all alive! We used the gun on you—”
    The horseman shook his head. “No. You could
not face seeing their bodies, nor could their spirits accept what
happened. ” He embraced her. “All that can be