Manifest

MANIFEST

Chapter One: The Boy Who Saw Shadows

Rain battered the windshield of the battered black sedan as it sped along the empty highway toward Blackridge.

Teddy Grenan sat in the passenger seat, staring through the window at the trees blurring past. The sky was a dark, bruised grey, and the road ahead seemed to disappear into the mist.

Beside him, Finn Riley gripped the steering wheel with one hand and held a crumpled letter in the other.

“Three disappearances,” Finn read aloud. “A house nobody wants to go near, strange noises at night, and a ghost.”

Ted didn’t look at him.

“Sounds like a lovely place to spend the weekend.”

“We could’ve stayed at the motel.”

“And miss this charming little town? Never.”

Finn glanced at him. “You know, one day, your complete lack of self-preservation is going to get us killed.”

“Probably.”

“You could at least pretend to care.”

“I care. I just don’t think complaining will improve our situation.”

Finn shook his head and returned his attention to the road.

The letter had arrived three days earlier. No return address. No signature. Just a short description of the disappearances and a request for someone to investigate.

The final sentence had been underlined twice.

Something is still inside the house.

Ted had read that line more times than he cared to admit.

Not because it frightened him.

Fear was a familiar thing from his childhood, but it had long since lost its hold on him. What interested him was the wording.

The sender hadn’t written that something was living inside the house.

They had written that something was still inside.

There was a difference.

“Blackridge,” Finn announced.

A weather-beaten sign emerged from the mist.

WELCOME TO BLACKRIDGE.

Someone had scratched a deep line across the word WELCOME.

Finn slowed as they passed it.

“Friendly.”

“People here have a sense of humour.”

“Then I hope they have a better one than you.”

Ted smiled faintly.

The town appeared almost deserted. Shops stood behind dusty windows, and the few people outside hurried along the pavement with their heads lowered against the rain. An old church tower rose above the rooftops, its clock frozen at 3:17.

Ted noticed it.

He noticed a lot of things.

The curtains that moved when nobody stood behind the windows. The elderly man who stopped sweeping his doorstep as their car passed. The woman watching them from a second-floor window who abruptly stepped away when Ted looked up.

And then he saw the boy.

He stood outside an abandoned house at the end of a narrow street.

Pale skin. Dark clothes. Bare feet against the wet pavement.

The boy couldn’t have been older than ten.

He stared directly at the car.

Ted turned his head to follow him.

“Finn.”

“What?”

“Stop the car.”

Finn glanced at him. “Why?”

“Just stop.”

Something in Ted’s voice made Finn pull over.

The sedan rolled to a halt beside the pavement.

Ted opened the door and stepped into the rain.

The boy was gone.

He stood motionless, studying the abandoned house.

Its windows were boarded up. The front door hung crookedly from its hinges, and weeds had swallowed the path leading to it. The place looked as though nobody had lived there for years.

Yet Ted could still feel the boy’s presence.

Not a feeling in the ordinary sense.

It was a pressure at the edge of his awareness, like someone standing behind him when he knew perfectly well that nobody was there.

He had experienced it since childhood.

Most people looked at an empty room and saw nothing.

Ted looked at one and sometimes saw what had been left behind.

“Find something interesting?”

Finn’s voice came from behind him.

Ted didn’t turn.

“A boy.”

Finn looked at the house.

“What boy?”

“The one standing right there a minute ago.”

“Right. And was he a living, breathing boy or one of your special friends?”

Ted finally looked at him.

“Do you want to investigate the house, or do you want to stand here making jokes?”

“I’m capable of doing both.”

Before Ted could answer, a voice called from across the street.

“Hey! You two!”

A young woman stood beneath the awning of a small café. She wore a dark coat and held a set of keys in one hand. Her expression suggested that she’d been watching them for some time.

“You can’t park there,” she called.

Finn looked at the car, then at the perfectly empty street.

“Apparently, we can.”

Ted ignored him and walked toward her.

“Sorry. We’re looking for someone who might know a little about the disappearances.”

The woman’s expression changed.

“Who are you?”

“Ted. This is Finn. We’re private investigators.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie.

They investigated things. They just didn’t advertise the things they investigated.

The woman studied them for a moment.

“Private investigators?”

“That’s what he said,” Finn added.

Ted shot him a look.

The woman seemed to decide that whatever trouble they represented, it was probably less troublesome than the things happening in town.

“I’m Curie Sampton,” she said. “I work here.”

She nodded toward the café behind her.

“You’re asking about the people who disappeared?”

Ted nodded.

“How many?”

“Three that everyone knows about. Maybe more.”

“Who disappeared?”

Curie hesitated.

“Two men and a woman. Different ages. Different backgrounds. Nobody can figure out what they had in common.”

“Were they friends?”

“No.”

“Family?”

“Not that anyone knows.”

“Did they visit the same places? Same shops? Same church?”

Curie looked at him with renewed interest.

“You really are investigators.”

Finn folded his arms.

“Occasionally, we even investigate.”

Curie ignored him.

“There’s something else,” she said.

Ted waited.

“People have been hearing knocking.”

“Knocking?”

“From inside their houses. Sometimes from the walls. Sometimes from upstairs, even when they’re home alone.”

“And the police?”

“They say it’s pipes, old buildings, people imagining things.”

“Do you believe them?”

Curie looked toward the abandoned house.

“No.”

For the first time since arriving in Blackridge, Ted felt a genuine flicker of interest.

“Why not?”

She lowered her voice.

“Because I heard it myself.”

“When?”

“Last night. I was closing the café. I heard three knocks from the storage room.”

“Did you check?”

“Of course I checked. There was nobody there.”

“And then?”

Curie swallowed.

“Then something knocked from the other side of the door.”

Finn’s expression lost some of its amusement.

Ted watched her carefully.

“Did you open it?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Curie frowned. “Good?”

“Whatever was inside wanted you to open the door. You didn’t. That’s good.”

She stared at him as though she was trying to decide whether he was serious.

Then she glanced at the abandoned house again.

“People say a boy used to live there.”

Ted went still.

“What boy?”

“I don’t know his name. The family left years ago. Some people say the child died. Others say they simply disappeared.”

“Who told you that?”

“My grandmother.”

“Does she know what happened?”

Curie shook her head.

“She said people in Blackridge learned a long time ago not to ask too many questions about that house.”

Ted looked across the street.

The rain had begun to ease.

For a moment, the abandoned house stood perfectly still beneath the grey sky.

Then a pale face appeared in the upstairs window.

The boy.

Ted stared at him.

The boy raised one hand and pressed it against the glass.

His mouth moved.

Ted couldn’t hear the words, but he understood them anyway.

Help me.

He took a step forward.

The face vanished.

“Did you see that?” Ted asked.

Curie looked at him.

“See what?”

“The boy.”

Her expression drained of colour.

“What boy?”

Ted turned toward the house.

Finn followed his gaze, but the window was empty.

“Mani,” Finn said quietly.

Ted didn’t answer.

He was staring at the café window behind Curie.

In its reflection, the boy stood directly behind her.

His clothes were dripping wet.

His head was tilted at an unnatural angle.

And his eyes were fixed on Ted.

Ted slowly looked away from the reflection and toward Curie.

She was still standing in front of him, completely unaware of what was behind her.

The boy smiled.

Every light inside the café went out.

Curie gasped.

Finn reached for the knife concealed beneath his jacket.

Ted didn’t move.

The boy’s reflection leaned closer to Curie’s ear.

Then a small hand appeared on her shoulder.

Curie shivered.

“Why is it suddenly so cold?”

Ted stepped toward her.

His voice was calm, but every trace of humour had disappeared.

“Curie.”

She looked at him.

“What?”

Ted kept his eyes on the reflection.

“Don’t turn around.”