Hellfire

brothers and half-sisters. Why shouldn’t she?

The more she thought about it, the more she liked the whole idea of it.

Suddenly she felt better, and looked up to see that she’d walked almost four blocks. In the next block, the mill stood, looking dark and threatening even in the noontime sun.

Beth stared at it for a few minutes, wondering what it was about the big old building that had always made her friends, especially the boys, talk about what might be inside it, and wonder what had really happened to the boy — Uncle Phillip’s brother — who had died in there long before they had even been born.

To her, it was just an ugly building.

Or anyway it had been, up until this morning.

She started walking again, coming closer to the building, trying to figure out what the sun might have been reflecting off. But there didn’t seem to be anything. The windows were boarded over, and so were the massive doors, set back into the front of the building at the top of a short flight of stairs.

But she had seen something that morning, and so had her mother.

Her mother had said it looked as if the building were on fire.

She stepped back, tipping her head up to gaze toward the roof line. As she reached the edge of the sidewalk, she bumped into a car.

Her father’s car.

But her father’s office was several blocks away. Why was his car here? She scanned the street, but saw nothing.

Puzzled, she stared once more at the mill.

Could her father be inside?

She trotted up the steps, and carefully inspected the boards over the front door. All of them were nailed tight, and there didn’t seem to her to be any way to get in.

And yet, even as she stood there, she could almost feel that the mill wasn’t empty.

Her father had to be inside.

She went back down the steps, and turned toward River Road. On that side of the building, she knew, there was another door — a big metal door — and she knew there was a padlock on it. Since she’d been six years old, every week at least one of the kids she knew had come down to check, always hoping that maybe this time, someone had left the lock open.

She came to the corner of the building, and looked down the long brick wall.

Halfway down to the railroad tracks, the door stood open.

She broke into a run, and a moment later stood in the doorway, gazing into the gloomy interior of the abandoned factory.

The silence of the building seemed to gather around her, and slowly Beth felt the beginnings of fear.

And then she began to feel something else.

Once again, she felt that strange certainty that the mill was not empty.

“D-Daddy?” she called softly, stepping through the door. “Are you here?”

She felt a slight trickle of sweat begin to slide down her spine, and fought a sudden trembling in her knees.

Then, as she listened to the silence, she heard something.

A rustling sound, from up above.

Beth froze, her heart pounding.

And then she heard it again.

She looked up.

With a sudden burst of flapping wings, a pigeon took off from one of the rafters, circled, then soared out through a gap between the boards over one of the windows.

Beth stood still, waiting for her heartbeat to calm. As she looked around, her eyes fixed on the top of a stairwell at the far end of the building.

He was downstairs. That’s why he hadn’t heard her. He was down in the basement.

Resolutely, she started across the vast emptiness of the building. As she reached the middle of the floor, she felt suddenly exposed, and had an urge to run.

But there was nothing to be afraid of. There was nothing in the mill except herself, and some birds.

And downstairs, her father.

After what seemed like an eternity, she reached the top of the stairs, and peered uncertainly into the darkness below.

Her own shadow preceded her down the steep flight of steps, and only a little light spilled over the staircase to illuminate the nearer parts of the vast basement.

“Daddy?” Beth whispered. But the sound was so quiet, even she could barely hear it.

And then there was something else, coming on the heels of her own voice.

Another sound, fainter than the one her own voice had made, coming from below.

Something was moving in the darkness.

Once again Beth’s heart began to pound, but she remained where she was, forcing back the panic that threatened to overcome her.

Finally, when she heard nothing more, she moved slowly down the steps, until she could place a foot on the basement floor.

She listened, and after a moment, as the darkness began closing in on her, the sound repeated itself.

Panic surged through her. All her instincts told her to run, to flee back up the stairs and out into the daylight. But when she tried to move, her legs refused to obey her, and she remained where she was, paralyzed.

Once again the sound came. This time, though it was almost inaudible, Beth thought she recognized a word.

“Beeetthh …”

Her name. It was as if someone had called her name.

“D-Daddy?” she whispered again. “Daddy, is that you?”

There was another silence, and Beth strained once more to see into the darkness surrounding her.

In the distance, barely visible, she thought she could see a flickering of light.

And then she froze, her voice strangling as the sound came again, like a winter wind sighing in the trees.

“Aaaammmyyy …”

Beth gazed fearfully into the blackness for several long seconds. Then, when the sound was not repeated, her panic began to subside. At last she was able to speak again, though her voice still trembled. “Is someone there?”

In the far distance, the light flickered again, and she heard something else.

Footsteps, approaching out of the darkness.

The seconds crept by, and the light bobbed nearer.

And once more, the whispering voice, barely audible, danced around her.

“Aaaammmyyy …”

“D-Daddy?” Beth called once more, her fear surging back. “Daddy, is that you?”

The light stopped moving, and for a moment Beth felt a flash of fear. What if it wasn’t her father? What if it was someone else?

And then, at last, she heard it.

“Beth? Honey? What are you doing here?”

Beth ran toward the light, and threw herself into her father’s arms.

“Daddy! I — for a second, I was afraid it wasn’t you!”

“Sweetheart! What are you doing here?” Alan asked again. He loosened himself from his daughter’s grip, then began leading her back toward the stairs.

“I was walking home from the hospital, and I saw your car,” Beth began, her voice still quavering. But Alan interrupted her.

“The hospital? What were you doing at the hospital?”

Beth’s eyes widened in the darkness, and for a moment she wondered what she should say. But before she