Voices (Whisper Trilogy Book 3) (34 page)

Not now
.

He took the lighter from his pocket, shaking and afraid. The simple gold lighter was old, its case scuffed. Petrov flicked it open, thumb poised over the roller. He glanced at the creature and hoped it would work, hoped it would burn and die. He, of course, would never get to find out. He put the lighter to his fuel-soaked shirt, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and thumbed the flint.

The flame took immediately, greedily eating its way through the fuel. Petrov didn’t feel anything for a few seconds, then was consumed with an impossible agony as his flesh seared. He threw himself onto the creature, the flame passing between them. It sizzled and withdrew, its skin splitting and spewing its foul contents, releasing gasses which further fed the fire. It was a spectacular display as the creature burned and withered. Petrov held on tight, the pain easing as his nerve endings died. He gazed at the display of multicolored flames erupting from its skin, their seductive dance the last thing he would ever see. His blackened corpse fell to its knees and bent back toward the floor as the chamber filled with smoke and fire. Quivering and rumbling, the creature was powerless against its fate, its weakness in the end, the humans it had manipulated into being its protector.

CHAPTER 46

Even as it burned, the creature was determined not to give up on its prize. More tentacles shot out of the earth and tried to pull Isaac down. Smoke began billowing out of the ground as the creature’s movements became more erratic.

Mrs. Alma broke the contact with the others and dropped to her knees. “Pull him clear. Now’s the time. Pull him clear!” the others complied, dropping to the ground and grabbing onto any remaining part of Isaac they could. An arm, a leg. Melody went to his head, holding it up, brushing the dirt away from his face as he was dragged deeper.

“You won’t deny it!” Henry screamed. He lurched toward them, bloody rock in hand.

“Ignore him,” Mrs. Alma said. “Pull the boy clear.”

“I’ll kill you all. Every last one of you. Starting with you,” he said stumbling toward Melody. She glanced over her shoulder, eyes wide as he reared back with the rock, his face a filthy mask of hatred.

A gunshot, crisp and loud.

Henry’s forehead disappeared in a red spray, taking his eye with it, the devastating impact of the bullet deforming what remained of his face. He stood for a second, framed with the moon at his back, and then fell forward at the exact same time Isaac was pulled free of the creature’s grasp. The group dragged Isaac’s limp body aside, the void where he’d been now filled with Henry. The creature grabbed at him, tentacles wrapping around his body, pulling him down, the blood from his head wound sending it into a feeding frenzy despite its own death throes. Dane looked on, gun still in shaking hand, cheeks wet with tears.

“His part is played,” Mrs. Alma whispered as Henry was dragged under, his spine snapping under the pressure.

The ground began to vibrate, and then the trees followed suit, swaying and hissing. Truman picked up Isaac’s body and followed the others to the outer edge of the clearing, watching as the creature withdrew with its trophy, an orange flicker of flame now visible as smoke continued to billow upward.

The wispy spirits of the dead came from the trees, circling the clearing; a screaming, thousand-faced cyclone. One by one they faded, freed from their bindings to the creature below.

Emma put a hand on Melody’s arm, drawing her attention to the clearing.

Steve and Isaac stood in front of them, father and son together.

Melody couldn’t breathe, overwhelmed with emotion as her senses were flooded with forgotten memories. The smell of Steve’s aftershave, the way his cheeks dimpled when he smiled. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to explain, but now he was there, the words wouldn’t come. Just a jumble of feelings and emotions which conflicted with each other. She wanted to be with them, couldn’t wait to die so they could be together at last.

No.

It was him, his voice, his presence injected directly into her head.

It’s not your time yet. Nor is it his time.

She watched as Steve took his hands off Isaac’s shoulders and gave him a gentle push. His spirit form drifted toward Melody, moving through her and back into his body.

He inhaled, gasping and blinking, coughing and putting his hands to his throat. Melody dropped to her knees and pulled him close to her, kissing his head, hugging him as tightly as she could.

There were no words she could say, nothing she could express to the spirit of her husband that could possibly articulate the gratitude she felt. She turned back to him, hoping to find some words that would mean something. The smile on her lips faltered. He was gone.

They all were. All that remained was the clearing, the ground smoldering and spewing out smoke.

“Do you feel that?” Emma said quietly, turning to the others.

“What?” Truman said.

“Nothing. It feels… safe.”

Mrs. Alma nodded, looking at the trees. “This place is cleansed now. The dead can rest.” She began walking toward the dirt path leading away from the clearing.

“What do we do now?” Melody asked, still hugging Isaac.

“We go home. It’s over,” she said simply.

“What about you?”

Mrs. Alma paused, considering the question. “Tea,” she said. “I could really use a cup of tea.”

Without saying anything else, she headed off down the dirt road toward the hotel.

EPILOGUE

Two Years Later.

Melody Samson was tired. She looked at the world in a different way now, changed by the things she’d experienced. Gaunt, and missing most of her hair, she pulled the hat down further over her ears.

“You’d never know, would you?” Isaac said, leaning on the handles of the wheelchair.

“No, you wouldn’t,” she replied. “Not at all.”

He crouched by the chair, taking her bony hands in his. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It’s just taking a little bit of getting used to.”

“I know what you mean. It still feels weird.”

“You know, I’m glad we got to spend some time together before the end.”

“Hey, don’t talk like that. We still have plenty of time together.”

She smiled; a wistful gesture that was almost sad. “We both know that’s not true, although I wish it was. Either way, we had more time than I was supposed to. That’s something I’m grateful for.”

Isaac lowered his head, staring at his feet. “Are you scared?” he asked, looking up at her.

“No,” she said, smiling at him warmly.

“Not even a little?”

“I’m tired, Isaac. Weak. This isn’t going to be a life for much longer. I don’t want to get to the point where I’m just… existing. Do you understand what I mean?”

“I think so,” he said, trying not to show how upset he was.

“Besides, I miss your father. I’m looking forward to seeing him again.”

Isaac nodded and looked out over the clearing, the ground already flush with shoots and juvenile plant life where nature had started the long process of reclamation.

“Emma will be good to me, won’t she?”

Melody nodded. “When my time comes, she will be your legal guardian. She’ll look after you. She’ll help you. More importantly, she understands what you went through.”

“I like her,” Isaac said, then cocked his head.

“Listen.” He stood and placed a hand on her shoulder.

She followed his gaze, staring out into the trees, her eyes tracing the perimeter of the clearing. Birds sang in a great multi-species chorus, bees drifted lazily around the flowers and plant life that had already taken a foothold in the fresh earth.

“It sounds… peaceful,” Melody said, still scanning the trees.

“I know. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

Melody laughed. “I suppose it is.”

“Is it really safe? That thing underneath the ground…” He let his words drift away and kicked his feet in the dirt.

“You know, Dane Marshall tells me the hotel is being demolished next month; the remains of the house with it. That place underneath has already been filled with concrete,” Melody said, smiling at him and squeezing his hands. “You don’t need to be scared.”

“How is Mr. Marshall?”

“He’s fine. He’s moved back out to California.”

“Oh,” Isaac said, staring out at the greenery.

“So that’s it then. It really is done.” Her smile grew as she said it, almost unable to believe it was true.

“There was one more thing I wanted to do since we’re up here,” Isaac said.

“Like what?”

He shrugged out of his backpack and set it on the ground, then crouched and unzipped it. “I have something for you. Well, something for us. It was something I wanted to share with you.”

He took the jar out of his bag and handed it to Melody. She turned it in her hand, the sunlight diffusing in the glass. Inside was a plant; a thick green shoot already beginning to flower. Melody looked at her son and frowned.

“I don’t understand.”

“Emma gave me this before everything happened. Now this is all over, I had this idea, but now I’m here, it doesn’t sound as good as it did in my head.”

“No, go on. I’m interested to hear it,” she said, smiling at her son.

“Well, it seems to me that we, our family I mean, have been a part of this place for so long that maybe we should continue to be a part of it.”

“What did you have in mind?” Melody asked.

“I thought maybe we could plant this. The two of us together; right in the middle there. What I’m thinking is, that in ten, twenty, even a hundred years, when this place is just another part of the forest, our plant will still be here. I just thought it was something we could do… if you want to.”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” she replied, smiling broadly.

For a moment, Isaac could see beyond her illness, the radiance of her smile countering her weakened state.

“Do you feel up to a walk to help me?” he asked.

“Absolutely.”

He helped her out of the chair, hooked her arm through his and led her into the clearing. They walked to its center, a place that in the past had brought fear and dread, but was now no different to the rest of the forest.

“Here?” he asked as they reached the middle of the clearing.

“Yes, this is good.”

He helped her to her knees and knelt beside her.

“I don’t suppose you brought anything to dig with?” she asked, still grinning.

“Oh, I forgot.”

“Well, hands it is then.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she repeated.

They dug together, scooping out a depression in the soft earth. When it was ready, Isaac removed the plant from the jar, roots and all, and set it in the hole before packing the earth back in around it. He couldn’t help but notice how such a simple task had exhausted her. She caught him staring, and smiled.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he replied. “I was just looking at you.”

She knew why of course, as it was harder to hide how drained she was these days, but she didn’t want to ruin such a special moment. She grinned again and turned back to the plant. “It looks good there. It should thrive quite nicely.”

“Do you think you’ll come back here again?” Isaac asked, watching for her answer.

She considered the question, face half in shadow. She looked at the plant, then at Isaac. “I don’t think so. I’ve seen what I wanted to see. What I
needed
to see. I had to be sure it was over. Thank you for agreeing to bring me.”

“No problem.”

“Right now, I’m hungry. How about we go find some food?”

“Now you’re talking. Come on, let me help you up and get you back to the car. Emma will be wondering where we are.”

They reached the outer edge of the clearing, and he helped her into the wheelchair before putting the empty jar back in the bag. He was about to toss it over his shoulder when Melody grabbed him by the arm.

“Look over there,” she whispered.

He turned back toward the clearing, a small part of him expecting to see something terrifying, then smiled.

At the edge of the clearing, a small deer gingerly stepped out, nose twitching as it sniffed the air. It regarded them from afar, lifting one foot then lowering it again. It stepped into the sunlight, nosing around the young shoots and keeping a wary eye on them. Isaac shifted position, which was enough to startle it, sending it crashing back into the undergrowth.