From his hiding place in the bushes, Roy Coffee stared. "Well, I'll be double-damned," he whispered. "Either I'm seein' double, or there ARE two of 'em!"
Ben tried to peer over his shoulder. "Good God, then that means…can't you shoot or something?"
"Don't know which is which! Damn fool ain't even wearing the same shirt any more! Still…" he lowered his rifle. "'Spose I should go break it up or somethin'." He took a step forward to move the bushes aside. There was the sound of a pistol report, and suddenly both figures stop struggling together and lay still.
Roy swore quietly but emphatically, not bothering to be stealthy now. One of the heads rose from the ground, and for a second the whole looked like a two-headed sideshow freak, then one figure rolled away from the other and they were two again. The other figure remained motionless. Roy struggled with the clinging arms of the bushes. "All right, nobody move!" No point in pretending they hadn't already heard him. The animated figure froze for a second, then scrambled into a crouch, and then a low run. Roy tried to bring his rifle to bear. "I said, stop, son! Or I'll have to shoot!"
There was a scrabble of footsteps from the porch, and then a high, thin scream pierced the air like a train whistle. Distracted for a second, Roy turned his head to see Amelia standing by the broken porch railing, shrieking. Before he could say anything, she turned on her heel and ran back inside, her skirts flapping around her. In the second it took him to look back, the one brother was diving behind the cover of the barn.
"I'll get him!" Joe was little more than a blur as he rushed past.
Roy glanced over his shoulder and indicated the kitchen door where Amelia had disappeared. "Hoss, could you - ?"
"On it, Roy." Hoss was on the porch in two large strides, stepping over the broken rail and disappearing into the kitchen.
"Just be careful, Hoss, we don't know who else might be in there!" Roy knelt by the figure in the muddy garden even as he spoke, testing for pulse and looking for injuries. There was blood leaking from around the mouth, but he couldn't see any other wounds. He turned him onto his side, let out a low whistle. "Damn. Dead. Musta been a accident. Shot clean in the back."
Ben looked anxiously from the barn to the house and back to Roy. "Which one?"
"Damned if I know. I'm gonna go give Joe a hand - why don't you help Hoss out?"
Ben nodded, a little bewildered by the suddenness of events. He followed Hoss's example and stepped up and onto the porch without the benefit of the stairs, his heart suddenly hammering like a drum. He peered cautiously into the kitchen. It was empty and quiet, streaked with sunlight from one large window. He moved inside. The house seemed deserted at first, but as he listened more carefully he could make out the sounds of Hoss's heavy tread somewhere about, and the muffled noise of things opening and closing. As he listened even more closely, he could hear something else, too - a faint noise, rising and falling, like ghostly wailing. But where was it coming from? He stood very still, trying to quiet the thundering of his heart and place the sound.
The thump of boot heels on boards to his right all but buried the sound for a minute and he glanced up to see Hoss standing in the archway that led from the kitchen to the house proper. Hoss shook his head in answer to his questioning glance.
"Looked everywhere I could think of and no sign o' her or Adam. Place ain't all that big neither. I'm gonna check some o' the out buildins…"
Ben nodded vaguely, his ear groping for that faint, persistent sound, filtering into the room from somewhere. "Hoss..." he hesitated. How humiliating to have to admit that he was once again hearing things. He was about to let it drop when he remembered what he had said about talking to each other. He set his teeth. Well, a little embarrassment never killed anybody…"Do you hear…?"
Hoss was standing still, his nose wrinkled intently. "What the heck is that?"
Ben let out a sigh of relief. Well, he wasn't crazy then. Yet. "I don't know…where is it coming from?"
Hoss tilted his head. "Sounds kinda like a animal in pain. Almost sounds like it's - I don know - under our feet or somethin'."
Under our feet. Ben shuddered involuntarily, remembering his terrible visions of Adam in his grave, sequestered away in some cold, dark space…he drew a hand over his eyes, trying to block them out, then froze, unconsciously clutching at Hoss's arm. "Hoss…" he said slowly. "The Fairchilds don't have a spring house."
Hoss shook his head. "Nope. Ain't a good enough flow o' water close enough ta the house."
"So what do they use to store food in summer and winter? The ground isn't all that rocky here. Do you suppose…?" He dropped his eyes to the floor under his feet, searching the floorboards.
Hoss looked puzzled for a minute, then understanding dawned. "You mean a cellar? Yeah, reckon they could at that."
Ben was on his hands and knees now, running his fingers along the boards, looking for cracks. He stopped suddenly by the kitchen table. A loop of rough rope was knotted in a hole in one floorboard. If he looked closely, he could make out a square outline around it. Carefully sipping in a breath, he grasped the rope and pulled. The square of floor swung upwards, releasing a whiff of cool air. The high keening sound grew louder and more distinct. He could make out the top of a ladder, fixed somewhere under the floor, only the top few rungs visible in the murky darkness.
"Hoss." His heart was hammering in his ears now, almost deafening him. His head felt light and indistinct. Hoss had stopped looking and moved over to crouch next to him - he could tell that without looking, because he could not, try as he might, tear his eyes away from the dark aperture below him.
Hoss waited for a moment then said, "Sounds like Amelia."
Ben nodded blankly. How dark the hole looked. How bottomless. How…familiar.
Hoss waited another minute, then continued patiently. "Root cellar, I reckon. Want me ta go down, Pa?"
Ben shook himself a little, trying to break the death grip the memories of his visions held him in as they intersected with reality, trying to be sensible, practical - to act.
"Yes," he whispered. Pa, I was waiting for you…where…? "Yes. You can go down right behind me."
