Chereads / Echoes from the Past: Dead House / Chapter 9 - Lines in the Sand

Chapter 9 - Lines in the Sand

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the small café where

the group had gathered to plan their next move. The cheerful chatter of other

patrons was a stark contrast to the tension at their table, where notebooks,

maps, and scattered pages from Tobias's journal sat among half-empty coffee

cups.

"We're really doing this," Chris said, breaking the silence. His tone was a

mix of disbelief and resignation.

"Looks that way," Taylor said, leaning back in his chair. "Unless someone

has a better idea?"

"Someone, please have a better idea." Emma muttered, her voice shaking.

No one did.

She pulled her cardigan tighter around herself, her eyes flicking nervously

between her friends. "This feels... insane. I mean, we're talking about going

into a house that might actually be cursed. Do we even know what we're looking

for?"

"We're looking for answers," Alex said firmly, though he couldn't shake the

knot of unease in his stomach.

"And how do we find those?" Emma pressed. "Do we just walk in and hope the

answers jump out at us?"

"For the record, I vote for nothing jumping out at us. Despite public opinion,

I think I can actually die from a heart attack." Taylor said with a smirk that still

betrayed his nervousness.

"We need a plan," Jordan said, her voice cutting through the growing tension

and silencing Taylor. She glanced at Alex. "You've been reading Tobias's

journal. Does he say anything about the layout of the house or where he kept

his records?"

Alex nodded, flipping open the journal to a dog-eared page. "He mentioned a

study on the second floor. That's where he wrote most of this. If there are

more records, they'll probably be there."

Chris frowned. "And what about, you know... the creepy stuff? The whispers?

The shadows? How are we supposed to deal with that?"

"Plenty of salt?" Taylor suggested, causing the group to smile and cutting through

the tension.

Jordan tapped her pen against the edge of her notebook. "We stay together.

No splitting up, no wandering off. We go in, we search, we get out. Fast."

"And we bring flashlights," Taylor added. "Lots of flashlights."

The conversation turned practical at that point, with the group listing

supplies they'd need: flashlights, batteries, gloves, a first-aid kit, even

snacks in case the trip took longer than expected. But the underlying tension

never disappeared, simmering just beneath the surface.

Alex found his thoughts drifting as the others debated logistics. His gaze

flicked to Jordan, who was busy jotting notes in her notebook. She looked calm,

collected, like nothing could rattle her.

Except Alex knew better.

"Hey," Jordan said suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. "You still

with us?"

"Yeah," Alex said quickly. "I'm here."

"Good," she said, her tone brisk. "Because we need to be on the same page

for this. No impulsive moves. Got it?"

Alex nodded, though her words stung more than they should have.

Later, after the group had dispersed to gather supplies, Alex found himself

standing outside the café with Jordan. The street was quiet, bathed in the warm

glow of streetlights.

"Jordan," he said, his voice hesitant.

She turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "What's up? "

Alex hesitated, the words tangling in his throat. "About... the other night.

The kiss."

Jordan's expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of something in

her eyes, something he couldn't quite read.

"What about it?" she asked.

Alex ran a hand through his hair, frustrated by how difficult it was to find

the right words. "I just... I don't know where we stand. I mean, you kissed me,

and then… "

"And then I acted like it didn't happen," she finished for him.

He nodded, his chest tightening.

Jordan sighed, crossing her arms. "Alex, I kissed you because... I wanted

to. But everything's been so insane lately, I didn't think it was the right

time to have that conversation."

"And now?" he asked, his voice quieter.

She studied him for a long moment, her expression softening. "Now we're

standing on the edge of something dangerous. Something bigger than either of

us. I'm not saying it doesn't matter, but maybe we should focus on not dying

first."

Alex let out a dry laugh, though it lacked any real humor. "That's fair."

Jordan stepped closer, her voice softening. "For what it's worth, I haven't

forgotten about it. And I don't regret it."

Alex felt his heart stutter, her words like a balm against his doubts.

"Thanks," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't thank me yet," she said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "You

still have to survive Blackwood House."

*****

The next day was a flurry of preparation. The group split up to gather

everything they might need, from practical tools to things that felt like

overkill.

Chris returned with a duffel bag full of flashlights, extra batteries, and

duct tape. "You can never have too much duct tape," he said when Emma raised an

eyebrow.

Emma herself brought a first-aid kit, gloves, and hand sanitizer. "Because

if I'm going to touch anything in that house, I'm not doing it bare-handed,"

she said firmly.

Taylor showed up with an assortment of snacks, bottles of water, and, bizarrely,

a crucifix and a wooden stake.

"Seriously?" Jordan asked, staring at the crucifix.

"Hey, you never know," Taylor said, shrugging.

"And this?" She asked lifting the stake.

"Ghosts, vampires, werewolves. I'm prepared for all. I have some garlic there

somewhere." He said defensively.

"What about you, Alex?" Chris asked.

Alex held up his bag, which contained Tobias's journal, the letter, a

flashlight, and a notebook. "I'm bringing the essentials."

"And your courage, hopefully," Taylor quipped.

By late afternoon, they reconvened at Alex's house to go over the plan one

last time. The atmosphere was tense but focused, each of them acutely aware of

what they were about to do.

"Everyone clear on the plan?" Jordan asked, her tone firm.

"Clear," Chris said.

"Crystal," Taylor added.

"Not even remotely," Emma muttered, though she tried to smile.

Alex looked at each of them in turn, his chest tightening with a mix of

gratitude and guilt. They didn't have to do this. But they were anyway.

"Thanks," he said quietly.

Jordan gave him a small, reassuring smile. "We're in this together, Alex.

All of us."

For the first time in days, Alex felt a flicker of hope.