The Influence by Ramsey Campbell

Author:Ramsey Campbell [Campbell, Ramsey]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Horror, Fiction
ISBN: 9781619212992
Publisher: Tor Books
Published: 1988-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

As soon as Hermione was outside the house she dug her knuckles into her forehead. She should have loitered out of sight nearby until they were all inside, she shouldn’t have gone in. She was sure they’d all seen how nervous she was growing; she had almost panicked in case Elspeth insisted on driving her to the hotel. But she was out now, and the women were listening to Rowan—surely they still were, though Hermione couldn’t hear her. She hurried down the cobbled path, wiping her slippery hands on her coat, and made as much noise as she could in closing the gate; then she tiptoed back and dodged around the side of the house.

The path there looked as if it might be composed of loose slate. It was crazy paving, she told herself, and took a step, so tentative that she swayed against the house. She supported herself against the whitewashed wall as she crept to the back garden. The floodlight on the next house doused the garden with the shadow of the hedge, but she could make out the shed on the far side of the lawn. It was the only place in Gronant she knew there was a spade: Elspeth often talked about digging the garden. She stepped onto the small neat lawn, and a dog barked.

Hermione recoiled against the wall of the house. The dog was under the floodlight, beside a pair of French windows. If anyone parted those curtains they would see her flattened against the house like a moth. Gwen or Elspeth might lean out of the kitchen window beside her, and what would she say then? She shook all over and crammed her fists against her mouth before she could burst into hysterical laughter. The dog had settled itself. As soon as she had gulped down her mirth she padded across the grass.

The flashlight in her pocket bumped her thigh all the way to the shed. She unbolted the door with fingers that felt swollen and rigid. The hinges were so thoroughly oiled that the door came towards her faster than she was expecting. The dog made a sound in its throat. She leaned forward and peered into the dark. In the far left-hand corner, caged by a rake and a fork, was a spade.

When she stepped on the floor of the shed, the tools stirred. If they fell they would start the dog barking in earnest. She lunged across the plank floor and grabbed all three handles. She was close to hysteria again, because at first she couldn’t distinguish which handle belonged to the spade. She groped downwards until she felt the edge of the head, which was trapped behind the others. She set about disentangling the fork and the rake, forcing herself to take her time, and then she froze. She was being watched.

She made herself glance toward the house. The kitchen window was unlit, and she was sure the curtains hadn’t moved. She was being watched from somewhere closer in the dark, because she had realised the danger to Rowan.

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