An Unexpected Guest by Heather Graham

Author:Heather Graham [Graham, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-11-23T00:00:00+00:00

Part 2

Strange Guests

Somewhere deep inside, Kylie knew it was happening again.

She could see the girl, but she was the girl.

There were two others near her.

A young man lay on the floor; the crooked length of his leg suggested it was broken. It appeared he had passed out from pain.

Another girl was near the body Kylie seemed to be occupying. Like the girl Kylie could feel, she was tied, her wrists together, and her arms suspended from the ceiling.

“He’s going to come back,” the other girl whispered.

“Yes, he’ll come back,” the first girl said. Kylie could almost feel the voice coming from her. She could feel the despair and the pain the girl was feeling. “He’ll come back, and there is no help, no one who could hear us, the closest house . . . isn’t close.”

“He’ll finish one of us this time!” the second girl whispered.

Kylie never realized she had risen. Or that she had dressed.

She didn’t know she was swiftly going down the stairs. Nor did she realize she left through the back door, as if she knew the house, knew the backyard, knew the neighborhood.

She walked into the forest behind the house, guided by a great moon rising high in the night sky, not full, but full enough to guide her.

She only knew she was headed for a farmhouse.

Because she could remember getting there. He had slipped something into her coffee when they had been joking and laughing. She’d managed to walk out, thinking she was sick, trying to get out as quickly as possible. She had thought he’d been trying to buy pills, and he thought she sold them, but she didn’t, she . . .

She was vaguely awake when he parked the car and dragged her through the woods.

To the old barn. A red, old-fashioned—charming, even—New England barn.

It was near the great cemetery where so many of the early settlers lay. Their memorials had been made of wood and had not survived the ravages of the ages. But they were there—the dead who had lived and learned and worked and strived far in the past.

The farmhouse lay almost on hallowed ground. But it was just off in another grove of trees.

Kylie paused when she reached it, torn. She knew who she was, and she didn’t understand how she was seeing into another woman’s mind.

She had a moment—a terrible moment—when it dawned on her, that she had walked into the night.

Alone.

With nothing.

But the barn was ahead.

And those in it were still alive. Yet as she stared at it, the bushes rustled. And before she could react, a rope had been thrown around her. As she struggled, she saw her captor and heard him shouting insanely at her, “You! You will not save your friends! You—all of you peddling poison to children—will pay the price! You will pay the price!”

She managed to kick him in the face.

But she didn’t know if there was any way she could escape . . .

Or if she would become like the victim she had felt and seen with her strange, emphatic mind.

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