“Yeah. But now I’ve got a better idea of what it is. Sort of. Kind of. It’s all got something to do with the First Congrega-tionalist Church of Chattanooga. ”

“Never heard of it. ”

“It burned down in 1919. City officials swore that the church was deliberately closed and burned because of the Spanish Flu epidemic. Communities closed a lot of public buildings then, theaters and churches and the like. They didn’t really understand how the flu was spread, so they tried all sorts of things to slow it down. But I’ve never heard of burning buildings to prevent the spread of disease. That sounds excessive, doesn’t it?”

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the side of the glossy black piano. “If you’re grasping at straws, I guess controlled arson doesn’t sound so wacky. But why do we care why the church burned down?”

“Well, contemporary newspapers called the fire ‘suspicious’ too; wrote about it like they didn’t believe the city’s official line. Also: it was Caroline’s church. And that’s when Caroline first went crazy—when her family started sending her to doctors and sanitoriums. Her first stint in the crazy house was in November of 1919. And we don’t believe in coincidence, right? So it had to be related. Somebody burned that place down to hide something, Caroline knew about it, and the rest of the city helped bury it. ”

My head was hurting again, throbbing in time with his words. Again I heard that phrase in my head, clear as day and surprisingly loud: the burned up man. “What do you mean by that? Helped bury what?”

“I don’t know. But—Jesus. I don’t even know how to say it. I don’t have the vocabulary I need. I can’t . . . look. Listen. There’s something going on down by the river. ”

The pit of my stomach dropped, because I thought of Christ. “You said that last time we talked, too. What are you talking about?”

“I’m not even sure. I’m seeing de

ad people, everywhere. But not all of them stay down. Some of them—they’re coming up out of the water, out of the river. I don’t know. Nobody knows. The police are trying to force a lockdown and get everyone as far away as they can. But I’ve had people grabbing me when they recognize me, trying to tell me stories about—shit. About dead people wrapped in chains, walking around. ”

“What, like . . . like zombies?”

“No, of course I don’t mean zombies. I mean dead people up walking around and wreaking havoc. That’s totally different, isn’t it?” Around the edge of his voice I heard something close to hysterics, barely controlled.

“Did you, personally, see anything?”

“I don’t know what I saw, okay? It could’ve been anything. It could’ve been anyone. But I tell you this—they’re looking for something. I don’t know what or who or why. But there’s something coming out of the water, and I think it’s going to be something nastier than this city has ever seen. I think it’s going to be bad. Can you please, please, please get over here to the Read House?”

“It’ll take some time,” I said, but it wasn’t prohibitively far. “I heard they’ve declared martial law. Is that why you said I was going to have to sneak?”

“Yeah. But the more I think about it, the less I think the cops are going to be a problem. The authorities are calling everyone down to the river’s edge—which, might I add, is now somewhere around Third Street. And the higher the water gets, the more—the more range these things get. They’re being reported deeper and deeper inside the city. Shit, Eden. Shit. ”

“Third Street,” I echoed. “Okay. Third Street. That’s still a long way from us, and a long way from the Read House. ”

“It’s only a few blocks!”

“But it’s a few whole blocks. Don’t get all girlie on me, damn it. You’re high and dry right now, and I’m high and dry right now, and the cops are down by the water keeping people out of it—right?”

“They’re trying. But it’s dark, and not everyone knows that there are things down there. But I shit thee not, Eden. There are things down there. ”

And then I could almost hear his frantic, shifting gaze, and I could recognize his horror. It was the horror of someone who had long believed but never known. This was a man who knew, now. And it had rattled something loose inside him. I wondered what he’d seen, and if he’d ever tell me—but if I could pull it out of him, it wouldn’t be over the phone.

“Eden?”

“I’m still here. ”

“Eden, get here. I need to understand this. I think Caroline understands it. I think she might even be able to help. ”

“You’re guessing. ”

“What choice is there? And come on—what else are you doing tonight? Sleeping?”

“I was sleeping,” I informed him with a grumble. “But I can come out. Let me warn my company here, and I’ll do my best to be out there within an hour. ”

“An hour? It’s not that far away. ”

“No, but I’ve got to go to the bathroom, and it’s dark, all right? I’m not even sure if my flashlight still works. Give me an hour and I’ll do my best. I’ll get there. Just don’t freak out on me if it takes more time than you think it should. I’m tired, and slow. I’m really tired,” I repeated. It bore repeating.

I closed the phone. I’d lost my potato chip bag but I located a large Little Debbie wrapper and made do. I couldn’t tell if it was raining or not, but it was bound to be wet off and on, and my purse had been so thoroughly soaked that it’d never be the same.

Tags: Cherie Priest Eden Moore Horror
Source: readsnovelonline.net