The 'Geisters by David Nickle

Author:David Nickle [Nickle, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Horror
ISBN: 9781771481434
Publisher: ChiZine
Published: 2013-06-15T04:00:00+00:00

ii

The motel was called the Rosedale Arms, and it, like the sign that advertised it on the road, was ticky-tacky cute.

The sign was lettered in sweeping cursive script, all meticulously cut out of a wooden board with a mitre saw, and painted rose red on the whitewashed background. The cabins had the same colour scheme, brilliant red on the eaves and white on the side. They were tiny, but well enough appointed—and they were set reasonably far apart from one another.

That was another reason that Ann had picked this place. She didn’t want to be too close to any other travellers as she tried to hold it together through the night.

There wouldn’t be many in harm’s way this evening. As she crossed the grounds from the office, she saw only one car: an old-model station wagon, parked by a cabin three away from hers. Ann hoped that might be safe enough. Of course if she did things right, it’d be safe enough next door to her.

She popped open her trunk and moved her bags to the front door to the cabin. Then, she did as Penny’d told her, started the car, backed it up, turned it to the side and tucked it around the side, nudging it up to the front of the propane tank.

As she shut the ignition and the lights off, the little girl standing there waved at her.

Ann sat frozen in the dark. There was a moon out, not full, but casting just enough light to see her.

The girl was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans cut off at the knee. She was black-haired. She was standing by the propane tank. Not smiling.

Ann opened the driver-side door.

“Hello?”

There was no answer; really, Ann hadn’t expected one. The Insect had been quiet since she’d left the hospital. It had let her drive, let her do her business, given her the time she needed to deal with things.

If it manifested now—well, no apology necessary.

Ann stepped out of the car. The air was warm and rich with the sweet smell of the trees, a faint tang of vegetable rot.

Nothing moved outside; not even the cicadas sang.

Ann drew her fingers together in fists and held them at her side.

“Fine,” said Ann finally. “I’m going to bed.”

She shut the car door and locked it, and went around to the front of the cabin. She didn’t check the back seat of the car to see if the girl had gotten in there now; she didn’t look over her shoulder as she opened the door. She didn’t bother to check corners in her room, or make a note to see if anything had moved, seemingly of its own devices, while she was outside.

Almost a day ago, the Insect had nearly killed a lawyer from Miami, just a day after it had killed Ann’s husband.

But Ann was starting to work it out. As far as her own safety was concerned, the Insect wasn’t a problem. It was the people around her who were at risk—who so often came to harm.

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