Free The Haunting at Grays Harbor (The River Book 8) by Michael Richan Page B

better,” Steven said.
    “What’s better?” Roy asked, still several steps behind him.
    “The light,” Steven said. “You don’t see it?”
    “I see the light in that window,” Roy said, pointing up.
“That’s it.”
    “Step onto the grass, Dad,” Steven said, and Roy took four
more steps, joining his son.
    “Oh!” Roy exclaimed once he was on the lawn.
    Steven walked back into the dirt, and was plunged into
darkness. He turned to look at the house, and the upstairs room. It flickered,
and he saw more movement behind the window. The figure had returned. It was
standing still this time, looking down at him. He felt his chest begin to
contract, then a coldness roll up his arms. Before he could say anything, he’d
been pulled by the arm, and the light returned. The coldness began to melt
away.
    “You saw her again,” Roy said. “I recognize that look of
agony on your face.”
    “She was up in that window,” Steven said, turning to look at
it again, this time from the lawn. There was no figure, just the fluttering of
a drape.
    “She’s not there now,” Roy said.
    “She’s there,” Steven said. “You can see her if you walk back
onto the dirt.”
    Roy released Steven and took a step off the grass, his feet
landing on the hard ground. Immediately he was surrounded by darkness. He
turned and looked at the window, waiting for his eyes to adjust. Once they did,
he waited. No figure came, but the light in the room slowly dimmed until it was
gone, and Roy was left in total blackness.
    “Now I can’t see anything,” Roy said, reaching forward,
grasping like a blind man. Steven took hold of his hand and guided him back to
the grass.
    “Damndest thing,” Roy said. “It went completely dark on me.
Couldn’t see the room.”
    “Hold on,” Steven said. “Wait.” He stepped back onto the
dirt, and the light evaporated. He looked up at the window, seeing the orange
and yellow flickers of the dim light, dancing against the walls of the room. He
waited to see if a figure would appear, but it didn’t. After another half-minute,
he stepped back onto the grass.
    “I don’t like this,” Roy said, “all this stepping back and
forth. Who knows what it might be doing to us.”
    “Wasn’t a blackout for me,” Steven said. “The room was still
lit. Didn’t see a figure this time, but it was still there.”
    “This thing is obviously unstable and moving all over the
place,” Roy said. “I’m not staying the night here.”
    “Come on,” Steven said. “Let’s check out the legend shelf and
then we’ll get out of here.”
    They walked back into the house, grateful for the
illumination. Steven grabbed the trivet, and they both took their flashlights from
the table in the breezeway and walked to the library, activating the bookcase
and accessing the stairwell to the basement.
    Once they’d completed their descent, they walked to the table
containing the legend shelf. Then they both dropped into the River.
    Oh, look at that! Roy said, looking down at the shelf. It definitely moved!
    The yellow area they’d seen earlier near the western end of
the house had shifted further back, correlating to where they’d just seen the
curved line in the yard.
    Try the trivet, Roy said.
    Steven held the object, which now looked like a smooth glass
plate, over the legend shelf. The moment he brought it near, his palms began to
burn, and he reacted by dropping the plate. It fell to the floor as he held his
hands in pain.
    What happened? Roy asked. Are you alright?
    My hands, Steven said. Where the markings are. They felt like they were on
fire.
    Roy dropped out of the flow and picked up the cork trivet
from the floor. He dropped back into the River and held the glass plate over
the legend shelf, looking through it.
    I’m not feeling anything, Roy said. I’m not seeing anything, either.
    Roy dropped back out of the River, and Steven joined him.
    “I’m not sure it works,” Roy said.
    “Something about it works,”