Broken Bay by Andrea Dunlop

Author:Andrea Dunlop
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atria Books

The power in Bay House had not returned, and it looked dark and imposing as they approached it from the trailhead.

“Shit, you guys, this place is totally haunted,” Abby said, her voice a mix of fear and glee.

“I’m sure everyone just likes messing with the tourists,” Stephanie said, though she sounded uncertain.

Of course, their house was the infamous Madrone Manor renamed; Emma realized they’d been willfully ignoring the obvious. It’s not as though there were oh so many Tudor mansions on the tiny island.

With the power out, the hot water only lasted the first five minutes of the first girl’s shower. The rest of them did the best they could to dry themselves off and at least layer in fresh warm clothes, what few they had left. They huddled around the fire. It was early evening and the temperature seemed to be plummeting. At this time of year, the sun would normally still be high in the sky but the storm was blocking it out. All of them were ravenous by this point and excavated snacks from the kitchen. Abby brought over red wine and four glasses, not even bothering to ask if the others wanted any. They were out of options for locating Hannah, other than searching the island on foot, which would have been foolhardy even without the storm. Their one job now appeared to be remaining calm until they could go and look for Hannah in the morning. Given the tensions rippling through the group, this felt an impossible task without the help of wine at least, maybe whiskey, too.

“Have you guys seen The Shining?” Georgia asked.

“Oh my god, Georgia, why would you bring that up?” Stephanie seemed no longer just annoyed by Abby but by everyone.

“Uh, because it feels like we’re in it right now.”

“Gahh,” Emma said. “You’re totally right.”

“Who do you think is going to turn into an axe-wielding maniac first?” Abby asked, leaning out of Stephanie’s sight line and pointing at her.

“Stop it, you guys.”

“Whatever,” Stephanie said, downing half of her glass of wine in one go, “I don’t believe in ghosts.”

“I do,” Georgia said.

“Yeah, you said, family legends. Respectfully disagree,” Stephanie said.

“No,” Georgia said calmly, “I’ve seen one. Met one? Whatever. I’ve had an encounter.”

She had their attention now.

“There’s this outpost, really northerly, up by this tiny oil town Prudhoe Bay. There’s a research hut out by Point Hope. I was staying there on a solo trip. It was during the summer when the sun is up almost twenty-four-seven; you have to have full blackout curtains to get a wink. So, I wake up in the middle of the night and there’s an Inuit woman standing in the corner of the little bedroom. For a minute I thought she’d wandered in; most of the people who live there are of Inuit origin. But I was miles away from the nearest homestead as far as I knew. Also, she was dressed in a traditional anorak, which the first nations folks usually only wear for special occasions.

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