“Mary?” I called to my wife in the hall. “Are you okay? What
is it? What can you see?”
The silence hung heavy when she didn't reply, all I could hear was
the racing beat of my own heart. “Mary?” I called again, cold
anxiety slithering through me. I looked at Oak, who returned my
questioning glance with his usual blank response. “Mary?!” I
shouted a final time, really quite desperate now. “What can you
see?”
“Nothing,” she replied, stepping back into the living room
looking oddly deflated, as if all the fire had been sucked out of her
in those few short moments. “There's nothing out there.”
“Nothing....?” I asked, surprised. “Well what was all that
banging?”
“I'll be damned if I know,” she said flatly, “But there's
nothing there now. Perhaps Mister Oak can shed some light on what's
going on?”
We both turned to face our guest, only to find a curious look of
concentration on his face. “Shush,” he said, touching his finger
to his lips, “Can you hear that?”
