The Dead House - Dawn Kurtagich Page 0,81
stairs, their heavy, condensed breath following like a trail. The armoire door is broken, kicked out from the inside.
“Carly?”
Kaitlyn, who has been kneeling in the corner over her journal, looks up as Brett rounds the corner from the stairwell. All we see of him is his dark outline, trapped in the shadows of the darkest part of the room. The meager lightbulb flickers above him.
“Anything?” Kaitlyn asks, closing her book and sliding it behind her. “News? Is she okay?”
“They were operating when I left.”
“Can they… fix it?”
He steps closer, out of the shadows, and Kaitlyn gets to her feet, but doesn’t move closer. Brett seems to teeter, wanting to step forward.
“No. She’ll… she’s lost it. I… What the hell happened in here, Carly?”
“Kaitlyn.”
He nods. “Sorry.”
“You saw. You saw what happened.”
He grabs his hair and shakes his head. “I don’t know—she… she cut off her own tongue… she almost died.”
“There was something in the house. I didn’t see it… it was going to do something to me… maybe kill me? I don’t know. Can the thing in the house live if the house itself—me—is gone? But it was going to get inside me maybe, control me? And Naida… Naida, she—she put herself in the way. It got her. I… I don’t know why she cut out her… maybe the thing made her… or maybe she did it to protect us from it… maybe it was trying to possess her? Use her against us? And she stopped it. I… I don’t know, Brett. I just don’t know!”
She is shrill.
“This is mental,” he says, then yells, “This is insane!”
“You didn’t believe it was real, did you?” She gives him a withering look. “Did you?”
He sighs, paces the room. “I don’t know. I don’t bloody well know. That house—the… I don’t know!”
“You knew something could happen. Naida explained it. She told us it was risky—”
“Yeah, but I didn’t know it was—” He breaks off, turns to face her. “I didn’t know it was… that you… Carly…”
“You thought I was insane? Thought I was making it up? That I really am Carly but that you had to humor me or something? That crap you spun about me being different at night was just—”
Her words are cut off as Brett leans forward, and we can assume he is kissing her, since his arms lift and disappear as though around her small torso. “I thought… I thought I was helping you by letting you think…” Something in the shadows moves, and the camera adjusts to the change in light as Ari, apparently having descended the stairs, hurls himself at Brett.
“Get your filthy hands off her—” An impact and a grunt.
Surprised, Brett is thrown off balance, and with him, Kaitlyn. She hits the wall with a small cry; she grabs her elbow gingerly and watches as Ari tackles Brett to the ground, punching him repeatedly in the face.
“Ari! Ari stop it!”
She throws herself on Ari, and with some effort, she manages to wrench him away from the cowering Brett. She bends low over her arms.
“You touch her again, and I’ll rip your lungs out!” Ari yells.
Brett spits blood from his mouth and wipes his lips. “You’re psycho, man. She can bloody well kiss whoever she wants!”
Kaitlyn shakes her head desperately at Brett. She pulls Ari gently into the opposite corner and wraps her injured arms around him. After a moment, panting heavily, his arms come around her in return. Brett gets to his feet and glares at Ari, whose back faces the camera, then shakes his head and leaves, running loudly up the stairs and slamming the door at the top.
“You kissed him,” Ari says a few moments later, pulling away from her. His voice is low, and Kaitlyn looks startled.
“Not really. I’m… Ari, I’m not used to being seen. Noticed. I’m… He kissed me. I was stunned.”
He lifts his hands and cups her cheek. “I don’t want to lose you. I want you to be with me—I love you.”
She nods. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Ari.”
He steps away from her and faces the camera, but his expression is obscured by shadows.
“How is she?” Kaitlyn asks at last. “How’s Naida?”
“She’s alive.”
“Thank God. Will she… stay… alive?”
He nods. “Likely.”
Kaitlyn, whose calm control seems to have been a carefully managed mask, covers her face and begins to cry. “Thank God, thank God, thank God,” she mutters, over and over. “Thank you, thank you—I’m so sorry.”
Ari moves to the other end of the room. “Kaitlyn… what was that with Brett? Do you…