Night Sounds by B. W. Battin

Author:B. W. Battin [Battin, B. W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: horror, supernatural
Publisher: Crossroad Press
Published: 2016-01-21T00:00:00+00:00

WESTWARD HO

1

“Man’s name is Edwin Hagan,” the gray-uniformed deputy sheriff said. He’d been among Paula’s rescuers last night, the one with the moon face. “The name mean anything to you?”

Paula shook her head. “I’ve never seen him before.” She was dressed, sitting on the edge of her hospital bed. The doctors had kept her overnight for observation. She felt fine this morning, ready to resume her journey. She had already told the officer her version of what happened last night.

“Hagan’s a parole violator out of Ohio,” the deputy said. “He’s also a suspect in a couple of convenience store robberies in which the clerks were shot to death. They’re running ballistics checks on the gun we found in his car.” He studied her with eyes that seemed small in his large fleshy face. It wasn’t an unintelligent face, but it clearly belonged to someone from the countryside, a farmer or a tractor salesman or the owner of the feed store. Or a rural deputy sheriff. It was the face of a man content with his lot in life, Paula supposed.

“Car he was driving was stolen,” the deputy said.

“I thought he was going to kill me.”

“Did he say why?”

“No. He said, ‘Gotta kill her.’ He said it two or three times but he never said why he had this … this compulsion.”

The deputy nodded, pulled a small notebook from his breast pocket, examined a page.

“Thank you for coming to my rescue,” Paula said. “I think … if you hadn’t shown up when you did …” She shrugged. “Anyway, thank you.”

The policeman gave her an aw-shucks, slightly embarrassed look. “That’s what the county pays me for, to help when I can.”

“Well, last night you sure helped me.”

“Part of your thanks should go to Jase McConnell, the owner of the motel. Helen—his wife—was handling the desk, but she didn’t see or hear a thing. Old Jase, he was sound asleep in his recliner with the TV going. I think Jase has slept through just about every TV show he’s ever tried to watch. Kinda makes you wonder why he bought that big-screen, stereo TV set, since all he ever does is sleep in front of it.” The deputy chuckled, shook his head. “Anyhow, old Jase says he suddenly woke up because he was certain someone needed his help. He doesn’t know how he knew; he just knew. And he knew he was supposed to go to the window. When he did, he saw this man dragging you back toward the new addition he’s building, and he called us.”

“He knew I needed help,” Paula said softly.

“Isn’t that something? I’ve heard of things like that happening, but this is the first time I’ve ever run into it. It’s like he received a mental message from you in his sleep.”

“Yes,” Paula said. She knew about mentally received pleas for help. But until now she’d always been the one whose help was sought, never the one needing it. Was Jase McConnell, like her, a receiver of such

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