Came Back Haunted (Experiment in Terror #10) - Karina Halle Page 0,20
even get the chance. So you lost the chance.”
“Dicked around?” Dex repeats, his tone like flint. “You were with us the whole time. If anyone dicked around it was you. And it wasn’t our chance, it was yours.”
“Guys,” I say quickly before this turns into an argument, even though Dex is totally right. “Can we stay on track? Okay, Atlas, you’re saying now that reaching your mother through the Veil can’t happen because we lost our chance two weeks ago?”
“It’s easier on Samhain.” He shrugs and looks off toward the street. “Maybe on the next full moon. But just because you can’t reach her, doesn’t mean you can’t talk to her.”
“This is really fucking confusing,” I tell him, rubbing my palm on my forehead. “So we can talk to her?”
He gives me a quick smile. “Yes. That’s why you’re here. Go inside and talk to her. But as for bringing her out of the Veil, I guess that will have to wait for another time.”
“Let’s back the fuck up here,” Dex says, crossing his arms, his legs in a wide stance. “Your father is paying us to communicate with your mother, about something, the weather, sports, I don’t know, he doesn’t seem too picky from how it sounds. You, however, her son, want us here to bring your mother…back from the dead?”
“She’ll remain dead, don’t worry.”
My eyes go wide and I look at Dex. Don’t worry? She’ll remain dead?
“But yes, from the Veil,” he continues. “She needs the push. She needs to be invited. You two have the power to do that.”
“No offense, Donnie Darko, but we would never agree to that. We’re here to communicate, maybe even clear the place, if that’s what you want. This what-the-fuckery is the opposite of that.”
“You agreed last time.”
“We agreed to draw her out,” I speak up. “As in have her appear. We did not mean so that she can physically step back into the world. This isn’t Pet Semetary. You can’t just bring people back from the dead…”
But my voice trails off, because of course you can.
I did.
And I think he knows that.
Atlas stares at me for a moment, wheels turning. He then looks up at the house, the rain falling in his eyes, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trench coat before giving us a veiled glance. “Fair enough. I thought maybe you both would have a little compassion for a man who lost his mother, considering how you both lost yours.”
I freeze, feeling icy trails down my neck. I don’t even have to look at Dex to know he’s feeling the same way.
“I’ll leave you now,” Atlas says. “Please put the key under the mat when you’re done.”
Then he turns and walks quickly down the path toward the street.
I glance up at Dex, whose furrowed gaze follows Atlas’ every move until he disappears. “That wasn’t fair of him,” I mumble, trying to shake away the uneasiness, though I know there’s no point considering what we’re about to do.
“I don’t like how he knew that about us,” Dex eventually says.
“Me neither. But I guess it’s easy to find on the internet.”
“No,” he says, slowly shaking his head. “I don’t think it’s something he read on the internet about us. I think he just…knew. The real question is, what else does that fucker know about us?” He rubs his lips together for a moment before he glances at me, frowning. “Are you okay?”
I lift a shoulder. “A little cold and wet and spooked.”
“I won’t blame you for having second thoughts.”
I glance at the door, the way it seems to hum for me, promising things I can’t quite put my finger on. “Are you hearing any of those voices in your head?” I ask him.
“Not yet. You?”
“No. But this house has some wild, dark energy. Don’t you feel that pull?”
“Yep. All the more reason to never open up anything inside there, no veils, no portals, nothing,” he says. He starts to unzip his camera from the bag. “We just go inside and film and try to communicate with her…for fuck’s sake, we don’t even know her name.”
Samantha Poe.
The name just pops into my head, whispered very quietly.
“Samantha Poe,” I tell him.
His eyes go to mine, bewildered. “How did you know that?”
“I don’t know. I just…heard it. In my head.”
“A woman’s voice?”
“I’m not sure…” The more I try to think about the sound of the voice, the more I can’t hear it at all. Maybe I never did hear it.