Christmas Horror Volume 2 Read online

  Sinead stared down at the barely visible old wagon trail looping around from northeast to southwest halfway down the mountain, and then said, “Look, you can even make out the two archery targets Uncle Mike set up behind the horse-changing shed.”

  Tanner nodded and said, “Some of your great-grandfather Harry’s ashes are scattered beside that horse shed … just north of that nearby spring.” The spring had been capped long ago, and a deep depression left unfilled was hidden by ground cover, including wild blackberries, growing thickly.

  “Your gramps personally built that redwood horse shed, right, Pops?” Sean said.

  “Yes, just after he built this adobe and great viewing porch.” Thinking back for a moment, Tanner laughed. “When I first came up here as a youngster, the old boy had five hummingbird feeders hanging along this decking. He loved and admired the feisty little devils as his personal animal totems. Claimed they showed some of our family’s Gaelic fighting spirit. In fact, he often called them ‘Little Warriors.’” Tanner smiled wryly to himself. Even folks who knew Gramps well would’ve never guessed the tough old bird’s private hobby back then. He’d built the greenhouse attached to the south side of the house to raise rare orchids.

  “Harry was indeed an interesting man,” Sally said, leading the others back inside the sliding glass doors. She’d never met the family patriarch, who’d died thirty-some years ago, but she’d heard many of the McKinney family legends about his nature and exploits. “After finally retiring at seventy-seven he hiked for a month above 15,000 feet in the Himalayas.”

  ~

  Later that night, they decorated the Christmas tree, brought in and spread out the presents from the car. They’d actually begin their yearly tradition tomorrow night: reading a Christmas story, and opening one present each of the five nights before Christmas Eve. Saturday night, it would be Sinead’s turn to read O. Henry’s wonderful story, “The Gift of the Magi.”

  ~

  Early Saturday morning Sinead rushed into her mom and dad’s master bedroom, her cheeks a rosy red and shouted, “Come quick, outside! You guys aren’t going to believe this.”

  Alarmed, the parents struggled up out of the warm tangle of covers, hurrying into a freezing front room in their skimpy nightclothes—the twin had left the front door wide open.

  Everywhere outside was totally blanketed in white, including where Sean was standing in the middle of the circular driveway near the storage shed.

  It had snowed last night while they all were sleeping.

  The adults looked around with disbelief, because it never snowed here in the Valley … or anywhere in the Bay Area. But it had last night, and it’d been heavy. The snow was deep enough to almost cover Sean’s Converses—

  Barefoot, Sally shivered in her thin negligee, and with teeth chattering she said to the family, “Let’s all get back inside before we freeze and dress up warmer. Maybe get a cup of hot chocolate down, before we come back out to play in this strange stuff.” Of course they didn’t have gloves or snow parkas or even hooded winter coats, but they could all wear sweatshirts under their lined raincoats. Sally had fortunately packed them for her and the twins, and had insisted that Tanner bring his along in case. There was occasionally some rain in the valley in December, and especially up here on Mt. George.

  3

  Naturally, Jake, Little Anthony, and Repeat had adjusted their plans as soon as they saw it snowing earlier that morning and heard the Bay Area weather forecasts—a fifty-year snowstorm was predicted to hit later, a possible whiteout at higher elevations by nightfall. They realized they didn’t have to drive five or six hours from Oakland up to Tahoe for good isolated burglary targets. Instead, Little Anthony had suggested, “Let’s head up to the Napa Valley, lots of rich people with places in the eastern foothills. Me and Jake know that area pretty well.”

  Repeat grinned and said, “G-G-Good deal.”

  “Yeah, years ago, when we were jus kids livin in nearby American Canyon, we caddied at the swanky Napa Country Club off Hagen Road,” Jake said. “Ha, before they fired our raggedy asses, ya unnerstan.”

  “W-what for?” Repeat asked.

  “The caddy master claimed we were stealin cigarettes, lighters, gum, and change from customers’ golf bags,” Jake replied and shrugged with a sly grin. “So we kicked the shit out of him, and then gotta hat. We knew the pussy would sic the cops on us if we hung around.”

  He ended the story right there … and the three cohorts all laughed with

  devilish delight.

  4

  It began snowing again before noon, and by mid-afternoon in some places it was almost a foot deep, especially along the south side of the adobe and greenhouse, smaller drifts piling up on the exposed hundred yards or so of the narrow access road before it wound down northeasterly and disappeared into the cover of the thick forest of madrone, oak, and pine trees.

  Mike had called just before dinner, and said that he’d heard about the freak snowstorm in the Valley, but he still planned on being up there sometime tomorrow morning. He drove an older Jeep for hunting, which had four-wheel drive and good tires. State Highway 121 up from the Napa Valley floor would probably be plowed clear by then, he’d said, because it was the only access from Napa to Wooden Valley and the town of Winters. And the mile of unplowed private steep road that turned off 121 and climbed up the leeward side of the mountain to the adobe was fairly well protected by the thick forest. So Uncle Mike was confident of making it despite the predicted heavy snowfall later in the evening.

  5

  By dark, the three ex-cons had driven to the eastern Napa Valley foothills, the end of Hagen Road, which actually merged with the non-graded southern end of the historic Monticello-to-Napa wagon trail. In the four-wheel-drive pickup they made it as far as possible along the narrow, rocky trail, parking close to the less-steep southern slope of Mt. George. First they put on their disguises as the three Wise Men—striped bathrobes and towels wrapped on their heads as turbans. If they got stopped by the law on the way up or leaving, they’d claim they were going to a Christmas party. Then they slipped into their snowshoes and backpacks. Repeat was armed with a sawed-off ten-gauge shotgun, and the Arthur brothers both carried Glock 9mm automatics, K-bars, and plastic handcuffs in their backpacks. They began plodding the quarter of a mile along the old wagon trail, then climbed straight up a draw toward lights shining in a place about three-quarters of the way up the mountain. Had to be rich guys living way up there … They finally stopped to catch their breath at the steps leading up to a long porch, took their nylon stocking masks out of their backpacks, and slipped them on.

  6

  After wolfing down a microwave pizza, the family was gathered around the big dining-room table to listen to Sinead read “The Gift of the Magi.” She’d neared the end of the ironic story, where the poor young couple are exchanging their wrapped presents. He’d sold his only valuable possession, an antique watch, to buy her a decorated comb for her beautiful hair, and she’d sold her long tresses to buy him a watch fob.

  At that moment Sally glanced up … and sucked in a gasp. Three two-thousand-year-old revenants resembling the Wise Men, supernaturally conjured up by the story, were hovering and looking in the porch window. She finally managed a scream.

  The oddly dressed figures, with weirdly distorted features, were sliding the unlocked glass door fully open.

  “Hey, hold it, right there!” Tanner shouted, jumping up from the table, hurrying across the dining room, and confronting the intruders, who were all wearing nylon stocking masks disguising their faces.

  “S-S-Shut up,” the smallest man said, stepping forward and deftly tapping Tanner squarely in the face with the butt of his shotgun.

  Tanner retained consciousness but sagged to his knees, cupping his hand to his bloody nose and cut lip. By then the family was upset and badly frightened.

  Sally overcame her initial shock, moved over and kneeled at Tanner’s side, trying to staunch the bleeding with h
er apron.

  “Okay folks,” one of the big men said calmly, but gesturing with an automatic handgun, “no one needs to get hurt like Sir Galahad here, if y’all listen carefully and follow orders. Okay?”

  The stunned twins remained seated, speechless and looking wide-eyed at the armed spokesman … but finally nodded.

  “Anyone armed, or guns stashed here?”

  Sally shook her head.

  “Good. We need all cell phones on the table right now.” The twins reached into their hip pockets and complied. Sally said that hers was on the sink in the kitchen.

  “Get it,” the big man ordered. He pointed his handgun at Tanner, who was still dazed, but able to sit up on the floor where he’d landed. “Galahad, ya got a cell-phone?”

  Tanner nodded his head, his nose aching badly but only dribbling slightly now. He dug out his phone, and Sally put it on the table for him.

  “Landlines are where?”

  “They aren’t connected,” Sally, who had almost pulled herself together, explained in a voice just a tiny bit higher-pitched than normal. “No one has lived here for years. We’re only here for our traditional Christmas vacation.” She figured since the intruders were masked the family’s lives weren’t endangered if they cooperated.

  “Okay,” the spokesman continued, “all wallets, purses, and jewelry on the table.”

  After a minute, everyone had complied, Sinead and Sally getting their purses from where they hung near the front door in the hallway.

  “You bring any other valuables here into the house … like money, other jewelry, watches, or expensive Christmas presents, stuff like that?”

  Tanner and Sean handed over their watches.

  After reluctantly taking off her diamond stud earrings and wedding ring, Sally slowly shook her head. “Nothing else I can think of … except for the Christmas presents, under the tree in the living room. And they aren’t really expensive stuff anyhow—just some video games, books, and kids’ clothes. We planned on a week of hiking and quietly celebrating Christmas here on the mountain. Didn’t bring any fancy jewelry or anything for dressing up.”

  “We’ll look the presents over later.” The leader turned to his two associates.

  “Repeat, check out the house. Make sure all phone lines are dead. Jake, check those stairs, see what’s down there.”

  “May I get ice for my husband’s nose, give him some aspirin from my purse?” Sally asked. She’d been a RN when they were first married eighteen years ago, and remembered what to do to ease Tanner’s immediate pain and facial swelling.

  “Sure, lady, get him some aspirin and ice … But remember I’m watching. You’re much too pretty to be sporting a bullet hole. Okay?”

  She nodded and went to get ice from the kitchen fridge, her purse still on the dining room table.

  She was attending Tanner, when the man named Jake came back upstairs and reported. “It’s kinda unfinished basement with a pair of beds down there. No doors or windows, the foundation sittin on exposed rock in places. Phone’s definitely dead. Saw a big chest against the far wall, but it’s empty. Lots of fookin books in a pair of bookcases, mostly paperbacks. Dint see nothin of real value, ya unnerstan—”

  The small man came hustling back into the dining room, obviously excited.

  “C-C-C—” He stomped, broke his stammer and said, “Come see w-what I found accidentally, Lil Anthony.”

  The brothers herded the family ahead of them, following Repeat into the tiny office off from the master bedroom. He pointed at the floor between the desk and southern wall.

  A throw rug was kicked over, and revealed a small floor safe.

  Little Anthony forced a thin-lipped grin. “Well now,” he said, staring menacingly at Sally, who was looking down at the safe with surprise written on her face. “Nothing else of value here, eh? What’s the combination, lady?”

  She frowned, and then shook her head. “We’ve never used it. Don’t remember ever noticing it before. Must’ve been hidden by that throw rug the times we visited in the past.”

  “How bout it, Galahad?”

  “Forgotten it was there,” Tanner answered, his stuffed-up voice affected by his injured nose. “It was my grandfather who built the place. He owned the wagon line between Napa and Monticello. But he had his shipping office down in Napa on the river where they off-loaded the wagons onto barges destined for the city. I don’t think anything of value was ever kept up here.…” He paused before adding, “This safe probably hasn’t been used or even opened by anyone for maybe … thirty or more years since he died—”

  “C’mon, man, do we look like fucking idiots?” Little Anthony snapped angrily. “Ya shitting me? Nobody ever curious about what was in that safe for over thirty years?”

  Tanner just shrugged innocently in an apologetic manner.

  “Well, maybe we can jog some memories,” the leader said, looking at his smaller friend. “Anything else of value on this floor, Repeat?”

  The little man shook his head.

  “Okay, Jake, let’s talk to mama and papa back there at the dining room table,” Little Anthony said, his tone more than a hint ominous. Then, gesturing with his handgun, he said, “Repeat, take these two kids down and lock em in the basement for now, while we discuss things privately with their folks.”

  7

  It was getting cold in the basement. The twins had slept down there several times in the past during larger family gatherings, especially when their Uncle Mike came up.

  Tonight, they stripped a blanket from each of the beds, wrapped them around their shoulders; but they were scared wide-awake, afraid almost to breathe, listening intently, and whispering. The voices above were muffled, but most of what was said was still intelligible.

  It didn’t sound like the thieves believed their parents about not knowing the floor safe combination. The crooks suspected their parents either knew or it had to be written down somewhere here in the adobe, and they wanted it. At first, they just bullied their parents verbally.…

  But as the night wore on, the twins cringed, huddling and holding each other closer, flinching as the dangerous crooks lost patience and began to get physical, a number of loud slaps echoing through the floor and across the basement. It sounded like they were going to torture their dad in front of their mother.

  “Okay, Repeat, get my K-bar out, saw off his little finger—”

  “No, please, noooo …”

  “That was Mom,” Sinead whispered, the blankets held tightly around their shoulders.

  Sean nodded, but put a finger to his lips.

  “We don’t know, I swear,” their mom added, between loud sobs. “You’ve cut him for nothing.”

  It was quiet for a long while, but a decision was finally made.

  “Okay, Galahad, let’s see if we can jog your memory,” the leader said, his tone sharp and serious. “Strip off all your clothes now, lady. We’re gonna play some grab-ass.”

  The twins held their collective breaths, not really believing the speaker’s obvious intent.…

  “Enough!”

  That last angry roar was from their dad.

  Immediately, there followed the sounds of a major scuffle overhead, loud thumps and things being thrown around or knocked over and then a sudden—

  Bang.

  “Oh, man, you didn’t have to shoot him.”

  “You dirty, evil bastard…” That was their mother shrieking and attacking the shooter.

  Bang.

  “They shot them both?” Sinead whispered, in a stunned, incredulous voice.

  With tears in his eyes, and a horror-struck expression, Sean shuddered but placed his forefinger to his lips again. “Shush.”

  Nothing.

  It was dead quiet above them for what seemed like an eternity.

  And then an angry exclamation, “Goddammit, Jake! We ain’t ever going to get that combination, now,” the leader said, obviously upset. “The kids probably doan know shit about it.”

  I
n a choked-up voice, Sean whispered to his sister, “They’re both definitely gone.”

  Sinead just sat still on the edge of the bed, looking like a small child suddenly awakened and terrified of drowning in the dark, too shocked to reply, huge tears rolling slowly down her cheeks … and then, as if grasping onto a lifeline in the dark, she shook herself and thought Well, they are back together now … forever.

  “We’re going to be next!”

  Her brother’s sudden dreadful assessment shocked Sinead back to at least partial reality. “We need to get out of here, right now,” Sean added.

  Sinead glanced around, as if seeing the basement for the first time—no windows, only the one locked door, no other way out of this basement that she could see. “How?” she whispered hoarsely.

  Both twins remained in place, shocked into inaction by the horrifying murder of their parents.

  But at that moment a neon bluish-green apparition appeared in the cellar.

  “What is it?” Sean said, a puzzled look on his face.

  It seemed like a kind of brightly translucent hummingbird to Sinead, about the size of her fist. It hovered over the chest against the far wall for only a moment, then dropped down behind the chest and disappeared out of sight. After a few seconds, the iridescent figure reappeared and disappeared again, repeating the odd process two more times.

  Finally wiping her eyes again with the back of her wrist, Sinead said in a hoarse whisper, “Sean, I think it’s some kind of friendly creature and wants us to follow.”

  Sean nodded as the brightly colored thing disappeared again. He pulled the empty chest away from the wall, revealing the concrete foundation, spanning a rocky outcropping. The figure had disappeared into an upside-down V-like rocky crevice below the foundation that had been hidden by the chest. The opening looked just large enough for them both to crawl through.