“Tamara Thorne has become one of those must-read horror writers.”
-Horror World
Moonfall
Moonfall, the picturesque community nestled in the mountains of Southern California, is a quaint hamlet of antique stores and craft shops run by the dedicated nuns of St. Gertrude’s Home for girls. As autumn fills the air, the townspeople prepare for the festive Halloween Haunt, Moonfall’s most popular tourist attraction. Even a series of unsolved deaths over the years hasn’t dimmed Moonfall’s renown. Maybe because anyone who knew anything about them has disappeared.
Now, Sara Hawthorne returns to her hometown…and enters the hallowed halls of St. Gertrude’s where, twelve years before, another woman died a horrible death. In Sara’s old room, distant voices echo in the dark and the tormented cries of children shatter the moon—kissed night.
But that’s just the beginning. For Sara Hawthorne is about to uncover St. Gertrude’s hellish secret…a secret she’ll carry with her to the grave…
MOONFALL
Copyright © 1996 Tamara Thorne
All Rights Reserved
First e-book edition September 2012
No part of this ebook may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the author, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
This one’s for Douglas Clegg and Raul Silva
Still crazy about you after all these years
Table of Contents
Part 1
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Part 2
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Part 3
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Part 4
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Part 5
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Chapter 109
Chapter 110
Chapter 111
Chapter 112
Chapter 113
Chapter 114
Chapter 115
Chapter 116
Epilogue
PART ONE
HALLOWEEN, 1972
One
Beano Franklin poked John Lawson in the ribs. ''Come on, pull my finger!"
"Cut it out," John muttered, his gaze never wavering from the dark apple orchard that lay beyond the orange and yellow lights strung around the picnic area of Parker's Cider Mill. Beano had been after him for five minutes now, even though John's parents were standing right behind them, along with just about everybody else in town and God knew how many tourists.
"Come on, Lawson!"
He sounded pretty desperate and John smiled to himself, thinking that his friend must be about ready to burst. If it had been anyone but Mom and Dad and Grandpa Gus in Beano's direct line of fire, he might've been tempted to comply. ''Ask Winky," John murmured, ignoring the digit wagging under his nose.
''He took off with Paul and Doug, remember, Bonehead? To get our supplies for later?"
''Oh, yeah." John had managed to put their plans out of his head for the last couple hours, but Beano's words made his stomach squiggle with fear and excitement about what would come later tonight.
Standing on John's left was Greg, his ten-year-old brother. Dressed true to his character as a little red devil complete with pitchfork, he was tugging on John's sleeve. He turned. "What, Squirt?"
"What're you doing later?" he demanded loudly. "I wanna do it, too! And don't call me Squirt!"
Behind them, John felt his mother lean closer, listening, so instead of strangling Greg, he smiled at him. "We're camping out at Winky's, Squirt. Only high school freshmen. Sorry."
The boy's freckled face slipped into a frown, and just as he opened his mouth to complain, Beano saved the day, sticking his finger in Greg's face. "Quick! Pull it!"
The frown instantly inverted and Greg yanked for all he was worth. Nothing happened. Greg opened his mouth to protest
"Silent but deadly," Beano reassured him.
An instant later, Mom said, "Oh, dear," Dad cleared his throat, and they, along with everyone else in the immediate vicinity, edged away. "Christ," John sputtered, trying not to inhale any more stink molecules than he had to, ''what crawled up your ass and died?"
''Two chili dogs with double sauerkraut, dill pickles, and jalapenos. Look! Here comes Caspar!"
Old Caspar Parker, the man behind Moonfall's annual Halloween Haunt, stepped out in front of the crowd, dressed in denim overalls, a blue and white checked shirt, and a yellow Parker's Cider Mill baseball cap, all liberally spattered with fake blood. His wrinkled face was expertly made up in corpse colors-grayish-white with blue mottling around his eyes and cheeks and a trail of blood drizzling from one comer of his blue-black lips. The bloody gash painted on his neck was even wider tha
n the grin on his face.
"Have you folks had a good time tonight?" he called in his booming voice. The cheers and applause threatened to rip his widening grin in two. "Anybody sighted any gargoyles in the sky?" Hoots and whistles and more cheers answered him, and John felt Greg move closer to him; the squirt still believed the gargoyles decorating St Gertrude's School for Girls could fly and might get him some dark night. John hadn't been intrigued by the gargoyle stories for a long time, but Greg was a sort of nervous kid. He turned his attention back to Caspar and his shenanigans.
Every Halloween, Parker's Mill hosted a costume parade, pumpkin-carving contest, apple-bobbing, a dance, and a hayride, but the best part was the Haunted Bam, which Caspar enlarged and changed every year. This time, he'd outdone himself with the addition of a hologram ghost swaying from a noose in the rafters.
At the ripe old age of fourteen, John knew Caspar's haunted bam was a little lame, a trifle hokey, but he didn't care. His buddies-Beano Franklin, Winky Addams, Doug Buckman, and Paul Pricket-all liked to make fun of it, and John went right along with them, knowing full well that they secretly loved it as much as he did. Even John's dad, who was also the sheriff of Moonfall, admitted that Caspar's not-too-friendly ghosts could sometimes get a rise out of him.
''Quiet, please!" Caspar called out, setting the stage for the night's final event. He cupped his hand around his ear. ''I believe I hear hoofbeats."
The hushed crowd looked to the orchard as the faint sound of a horse's hooves came from the loudspeakers, distant at first, then louder and louder, closer and closer, until the sound stampeded around them. A spotlight went on deep in the orchard just as a savage whinny ripped the air. Deep maniacal laughter followed. All around John, people caught their breath. Greg grabbed his hand and held tight.
There was shadowy movement in the orchard and John Lawson shivered in anticipation. An instant later, the Headless Horseman, on his midnight stallion, galloped out of the apple grove, an ominous black silhouette brandishing a fiery-eyed jack-o'-lantern. Steam blew from the animal's nostrils as it halted before the crowd and reared up on its hind legs.
The horse came down and the Horseman, his cape blowing in the wind, his white shirt covered with blood from neck stump to waist, held the pumpkin-head higher. ''It's All Hallows' Eve and the night belongs to the spirits now! Go to your homes and lock your doors, or you" - he pointed at a man at the far edge of the crowd- "or perhaps you"- he pointed at a little girl ten feet away- "or you," he pointed at John, or maybe Greg- "will be doomed to die and join us in our ghostly revelries forever!" Lunatic laughter rippled through the air; then the Horseman spurred the stallion. John watched horse and rider until they melded with the night.
"Wow!" Greg let go of John's hand, fearless once more."He pointed at us! Isn't that great?"
John ruffled his brother's hair. "Great, Squirt!"
"Don't call me that!"
Beano nudged John. "Here come the guys. Let's go!"
"Mom? Dad?" John turned to his parents. "We're going to Winky's now, okay?" He hoped he didn't sound as nervous as he felt.
''Are you boys still planning to sleep outside?" his mother asked. ''It's awfully cold."
"No, ma'am," Winky said, as he and the others joined the group. "My dad said we can camp out in the family room." The other boys groaned; then Winky added, "He says we can watch the all-night horror movie marathon. The Black Widow's hosting."
"The Black Widow!" Doug Buckman breathed. "Boy, I'd like to get my hands on those- "
Beano elbowed him into silence.
Mom turned to John. ''Did you remember your toothbrush, honey?"
Oh, God, I'll never live this down. "Yeah, I remembered."
''Be polite to Mr. and Mrs. Addams, John." With that, she kissed his cheek and he wanted to sink right into the ground as the guys snickered behind him.
"Ben," Dad drawled He looked big and imposing in his sheriff's uniform.
"Yes, Sheriff Lawson?" Beano asked, his plump cheeks coloring.
"Your brother and his friends used to stir things up on Halloween night."
"Huh?" Beano was all innocence. "Brian's in college back east. And his friends, well, Raul's in college, too, and Martin's in Vietnam, and Cal, he's in Canada-"
''The thing is," Dad said, moonlight glinting off his badge, "I know they aren't here to t.p. Jeremiah Moonfall's statue this year."
"How'd you know- " Beano blurted.
Dad smiled tightly. "I'm the sheriff, that's how. I also know that these things sometimes become traditions, kind of like the Halloween Haunt. The point is," he continued, looking from boy to boy, "this is not to become one of Moonfall's traditions." He gave them a genuine smile. "So, boys, if you see anyone hanging around the town square on your way to the Addams place, make sure and let me know."
"Sure," Beano said, and the others echoed assent.
Two
"Are we still gonna do the statue?" Paul Pricket whispered, as he stepped through the sliding glass door of Winky Addams's family room into the moonlit night. "I got us a dozen rolls of pink toilet paper! Pink!" He pushed his wire-rimmed glasses back up his ski-slope nose.
"Shit, man, I dunno." Beano looked at John. "Think your dad's watching the square tonight?"
John shrugged. ''He's got the night off, but one of his deputies will be on duty."
''Which one?" Doug asked, digging in his ear. ''Man, I think I got a piece of candy com stuck in here."
"You're just saying that because you like to eat your own ear jam," Beano observed
"Eat me, Franklin," Doug said, still digging. "So who's on, Lawson?"
''Cohtek, probably." John rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Knowing him, he'll stay at the station and watch the Black Widow unless a call comes in, so we're safe."
"Cohtek's favorite place is between a chick's legs," Beano said, right on cue.
''Between her tits," Paul said, craning his neck for a last look at the horror hostess's amazing cleavage.
“God, you're dense, Pricket." Beano underscored his disgust with a belch that made his Adam's apple waggle.
"It's ten-thirty already." Doug Buckman tapped his watch. "If it gets much later, all the girls'll be in bed and we won't get to see anything."
"He's got a point," Winky agreed.
"We gotta go- "
"Shhh, Buckman, not so loud. You wanna wake up my parents?" Winky glared at him, then looked to John, one eyelid beginning a nervous dance. '·'What do you think we should do first?"
"Let's go to St. Gruesome's. We can stash the toilet paper in the bushes by the statue and do it on our way back."
Silently they nodded agreement; then Winky led the way around the perimeter of his darkened house. Then, with soldierly stealth, they moved along the edge of the orchard until they reached the apple shed, where they'd stashed their bikes.
''This is gonna be so great," Doug gloated, as he pulled open the door and flicked on a dim flashlight. The sweet smell of apples filled the air and he smacked his lips loudly. ''Naked girls everywhere, getting in bed, showering, washing their panties-hey!" be squawked suddenly. "What the hell are you doing here? Lawson!" be hissed, "get your ass in here!"
"Now what?" John muttered as be pushed past Doug and saw Greg, still wearing his devil costume, perched on an apple crate, arms crossed, a shit-eating grin spreading across his freckled face. "Shit! What the hell do you think you're doing here?''
"I'm going with you guys," he said, nodding toward his red stingray bike. He gave his brother a coy look. "If you don't let me, I'll tell Mom you cussed."
"We're not going anywhere," John said, as calmly as he could.
"Yeah, right. That's why you all got flashlights and there's a pair of binoculars in Doug's bike basket."
"You're full of it, Squirt." John forced a smile. "We just came out for some apples."
"If you don't let me go with you, I'll tell Dad you guys are gonna t.p. the statue." He pointed at Paul's bulging backpack waiting near the door. Two p
ink rolls of tissue poked out of its open top.