The Haunting (12 page)

Trying to collect scattered thoughts, I grabbed a handful of salt. The grains were slipping between my fingers as I flung, twisting my unbalanced torso in the process. Chunks of the repellant struck Atropos as she staggered to her feet. Shrieking, she clawed at her skin. Without hesitation, I grabbed another handful.

Cody had Clotho pinned to a tombstone, her back pressed against the granite, legs rigid and straight. Cody knelt, hands wrapped around her throat, and her face was turning scarlet.

With my handful of salt dwindling fast as it leaked through the cracks in my fingers, I threw the salt at Clotho, and at the same time, someone jumped on my back. I toppled forward with an
umph
.

The figure on my back straddled me. It was light and could have only been Atropos. She laughed in her raspy voice before she grabbed my throat from behind. Her long spidery fingers gripped tight.

I couldn’t breathe.

Out of my peripheral vision, I saw Joel sit up. For the first time, he helped me. With a powerful backhand, he knocked Atropos off of me.

I struggled to my feet, hearing the throaty voice of the skinny witch wail in grief.

Cody leaned away from Clotho.

The girl was still, her eyes wide and vacant. Her body slouched to the side as she slipped sideways down the tombstone. Her head hit the earth with a sickening
thud
.

Lachesis still struggled with Phoebe and Read, shrieking maddeningly. Her arms flailed, and she managed to knock Phoebe senseless. Phoebe flew backwards. Her head cracked against a headstone, and she went eerily still.

“Phoebe!” Read shouted her name, but she didn’t react, didn’t move.

Worriedly, I staggered to my feet, scooping handfuls of salt up. I flung my first handful at Atropos before she could recover from her loss. At the same time, Joel launched himself at her.

I almost tripped over Claire as I darted at Lachesis and threw the salt at her at close range.

Lachesis reeled and bucked, throwing Read away from her as well. He caught himself before hitting any gravestones and struggled to his feet.

Lachesis sat up and grabbed my bare leg.

Yelping, I tried to shake her free when, surprisingly, Claire came to my rescue. Her deformed mouth twisted in concentration as she launched powerful kicks into Lachesis’s ribs. Lachesis changed her efforts and clawed at Claire instead. If Claire could have screamed, I think she would have. She kicked feebly when Lachesis locked onto her legs, then used her elbows, swinging them at the witch.

Seeing my opening, I shoved my heels into Lachesis to get her away from us. Cody had finally been able to tear himself away from the dead Clotho to help.

Joel struggled with Atropos alone while Read tended to Phoebe. Together, Claire, Cody, and I managed to take Lachesis down, and she wrapped herself up in a defensive ball.

At this point, I could’ve pitied her, helpless against our gang. What were we? Thugs? A heartless, soulless mob?

“Stop!” I shouted.

Claire reeled back for one final kick.

“Stop, Claire!” I snapped.

Her foot fell, but she looked ready to start again.

Kneeling down by Lachesis, I whispered, “Change Claire back. Tell us where the door is, and we’ll leave.”

Cody stepped away from the plump woman. To my right, Joel had Atropos restrained in a painful arm lock, watching us and waiting.

Lachesis raised her head slowly, peeking at us from under her arm at first. She blinked at me, her face hardening. Uncurling, she moved to stand up.

“Don’t you dare,” I warned, feeling the authoritative tone wash over the witch as she relaxed back to the ground. Without Phoebe, someone had to take charge; I just hated that it was me who accepted. I didn’t want this job. I was neither threatening in presence nor in voice.

Cody took the initiative to grab what was left in the canvas bag of salt.

Lachesis’s eyes widened as he stood over her, one hand in the bag as a threat. “You don’t expect me to believe you’ll let me go, do you?”

Claire shook her head, eyes narrowing, while I nodded. “Yes. You have no choice. You lied to us. You can’t make the door appear, and I’m not going to let you feed us anymore lies with that
toil and trouble
business.”

Lachesis’s eyes swept over the three of us, then to Phoebe who, frighteningly enough, was still unconscious. “It was all real, what you saw.” Her head nodded towards her sister in Joel’s arms. “What about Atropos?”

“She can go too.”

Joel adjusted his grip on the reed-like woman, causing her to cry out. I suppose if I needed an interrogator in our group, Joel would be my number one pick.

“If you didn’t have that,” Lachesis nodded to the bag of salt, “you’d all be dead.”

Thank goodness for Claire’s intuition. “Change her back.” I pointed to Claire. I kept trying to think of what Phoebe would do. The girl knew how to take charge and intimidate people; I could only hope I mimicked her well enough to convince Lachesis.

“I have to wait for the effects of the salt to wear off,” she replied icily.

Atropos howled. “Rip their ears off their heads when you get a chance!”

“Make that move…” I tried to sound as threatening as I could, gritting my teeth as Joel often did, “…and we’ll kill you.” I pointed back to Clotho, not looking at the corpse.
She’s not real
, I told myself firmly.
She’s Damien’s pawn. She’s not real!

Lachesis’s eyes followed my finger. She appeared visibly shaken. “Give me your word.”

“I promise to let you and Atropos go once we’re at the door, alive.” I even held my hand in a scout’s-honor fashion.

It took several minutes, but Lachesis changed Claire’s mouth back to normal.

Claire patted her plump lips gratefully, looking close to tears.

That was when Cody flung the salt.

They screamed shrilly. Atropos coiled in her awkward, pinned position while Lachesis lifted her arms to defend herself.

At my startled gaze, Cody shrugged. “Can’t be too careful. At least ‘til we’re out of here.” There was something dark and frightening about his stare. It was everything that Cody was not; it was cruel.

Lachesis hissed a violent promise under her breath.

He was right. The women couldn’t be trusted. Maybe Joel shouldn’t be picked as an interrogator. I wondered what it was that Cody saw in that cauldron that made him so cold.

Lachesis wobbled to her feet, standing as straight and tall as her body would allow, fierce pride and stubbornness on her face. “Follow me,” she growled.

“What about the ring?” Claire asked.

“Get it for me,” Joel barked before anyone could react.

“No!” Cody protested. “I saw it first. It won’t fit you.”

Claire ignored both of them, her own ring secured around her finger. She hurried to Clotho’s corpse and yelped in surprise.

Forced to turn around, I saw the remains. Dust and ash. Yet her body was still intact. Her hair was nearly all gone. Only a few scattered wisps sprouted from the blackened scalp. Her eyes were gone, leaving empty sockets. It reminded me of the mummy from the first Challenge. Looking back on it now, it felt like years. Her red clothes had disappeared, leaving only the vague outline of a woman lying on her side.

“When did that happen?” Read asked.

“Salt,” Lachesis said grievously. “If some touched her corpse, it would obliterate her.”

“Get the ring,” Joel commanded Claire.

Hesitant yet obedient, Claire arched forward, careful not to get too close. The silver ring shone on one clawed hand. It was as if it’d never been touched by whatever consumed its hostess. The moment Claire’s fingers pinched the ring, Clotho’s entire finger crumbled. Squeaking, Claire leapt back just as the corpse gradually crumpled and disappeared into its own cloud of dust. I watched in grotesque fascination and backed away so not to have any flecks of Clotho on my pajamas.

Claire pocketed the ring, unable to give it to Joel while he held the wiggling Atropos. Cody grumbled bitterly under his breath but otherwise kept his protests to himself.

Read lifted Phoebe and refused help despite looking strained and awkward as he stood with her draped over his arms. Her honey-colored hair waved with each plodded step.

Lachesis led us through the rows of tombstones until we reached the cauldron again. It still gurgled and spat sludge over the sides.

With the fog dissipated, I saw the dilapidated door clearly embedded in a wide oak tree. It had been there the entire time and we hadn’t realized it. I bet it wasn’t a foot from the edge of the circle earlier.

Reaching the door first, I soberly twisted the knob.

Nothing shot out at us right away, so I could only assume it was safe—for now.

I let everyone through except for Joel and myself. Once Joel pushed the disgruntled Atropos away, he and I barreled through the doorway without a backwards glance.

We clustered close together on the wooden stairs as the crusty door flung itself closed. The audible
slam
made everyone jump, and paint chips sprayed off the dry wood.

It was pitch dark, the silence deafening.

Standing together, we all waited impatiently for our eyes to adjust to our new Hell. The only light came from below.

At the base of the stairs, an old-fashioned gas-lantern illuminated a small circle of stained, 1970’s patterned carpet.

It smelled of mildew, burnt dust, and something else. It was hard to put my finger on it. It was faint but foul. I took a few deep breaths before concluding it could be septic.

Two wood-paneled walls held us confined on either side. Claire’s gasp nearly sent me scrambling into the waiting basement. My first thought was that she had spotted danger. Instead, she had her hands on either side of her newly formed mouth. “We forgot to ask the witches about Victor Frankenstein.”

I wanted to shake her and yell:
You scared the crap out of me for that?!

Cody’s glazed expression lifted momentarily. “We’ll find him eventually.”

Floored, I stared at him, horrified. Just an hour ago, he was delirious with worry and all of a sudden it was a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders. What will be, will be?

I started to ask him when Read’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I can’t carry her forever.”

Remembering Phoebe, I turned so I could see her past Cody’s elbow. She was still draped over Read’s arms.

“Can we wake her up?” Claire asked, her hands recoiling to her chest.

Joel reached out and tapped Phoebe’s cheek. Her head lolled back and forth, but otherwise she didn’t respond. Joel pulled back for a harder slap when Read turned his body to block the move. “Don’t,” he warned.

“What? It’ll send a shock through her system. She’d have to wake up,” Joel argued as if it were a simple logic that Read couldn’t possibly deny.

Cody frowned deeply, his eyes flickering up to Read’s face. “The longer she stays asleep, the worse off she may be.”

“We’ll think of something else,” Read snapped. “I can carry her for a little while longer.”

“What if we have to run?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Then you can help me.”

Feeling the doubt, I looked away before he could see.

Eyes adjusting, I saw shadowy outlines of furniture along the opposite wall of the stairs. “Let’s get moving,” I urged. “We can’t stay on these stairs forever.”

“But…” Claire protested, her face twisted in fear. “What if something grabs our ankles?” She said the last part so low I barely caught the words at all.

I lowered my eyes to see that the stairs didn’t have backs to them. If something was hiding beneath, it certainly could grab our ankles. I rolled my eyes back up to her watchful gaze and offered a weak smile. “Nothing will grab you. Just hold onto the railing and keep your eyes straight ahead.”

“But…”

“We can’t stand here forever,” Read grumbled and led the group down.

The descent with Claire’s tiny fear implanted in my head was suspenseful.

With each step, I waited for something to snatch the back of my foot, and the walk seemed to take forever. Everyone gripped the wooden hand railing just in case.

Reaching the bottom, we stayed in our tight little group. Safety in numbers.

Joel picked up the lantern, lifting it to cast the illuminating glow across the room.

Trunks lined the wall opposite the stairs along with a long, tattered green couch. Stuffing was bursting from the cushions, buttons popped and dangling, and a mysterious dark stain was on the armrest.

I glanced back to the stairs. With the aid of the light, I couldn’t see anything lurking behind them. That was a relief. I noticed Claire check as well, her hands to her chest.

She caught me looking and attempted a weak smile.

Suddenly, a faint crackling music pierced the silence. It sounded like something from a different era. The woman’s voice sounded hollow and echoed while a trumpet and piano harmonized in the background. I couldn’t make out the words and couldn’t see the source.

Either way, the unexpected sound shuddered down my spine. Something knew we were here. Something we couldn’t see.

The basement was a long wide room with only one corner. There was a cushion-sided bar with bottles cluttering the top. Three stools sat in front and glistened with spiderwebs. Landscape paintings hung on the wood-paneled walls with chests and shelves beneath them. In the center of the large room was a wooden dining room table without any chairs.

To our left was a dark wooden door, closed.

Joel started for the bar, his head sweeping from side to side. I had to give him credit. Every shadow was inspected by him first. The rest of us clustered behind him, our warm breaths on each other’s backs.

Nearing the bar, I realized there was a small square room to the left; it hadn’t been visible from the stairs.

The room had an old couch complete with colorful afghan and dusty dark pillows. This couch wasn’t as tattered as the one near the stairs. Despite some dust, it was otherwise unscathed. It still retained the faint smell of musky cigarettes. A small window over the couch shone a sliver of light into the basement. The layered grime over the window made it impossible to see through. A phonograph sat on a desk to the right of the couch. The large horn-like structure was almost bigger than the tiny box it sat on. The music echoed from the old-fashioned speaker, soft yet haunting, as we inched into the smaller room.

Read broke from the group and set Phoebe on the couch. He leaned over her, opening her eyes before checking her head for blood.

Inching into the room, I stared at the phonograph. A trumpet grumbled in a solo before the woman’s voice vibrated upward again, loud and tinny. “…
run away, don’t delay, this is a dangerous place
,” she sang. “
Someone else will beeee here at half-past threeee
.”

I jerked away from the phonograph as if stung.

“
Someone whoo doesn’t care much for you.
”

I spun to look at the dirty window. “Read,” I warned so not to startle him before I climbed onto the couch, careful not to step on Phoebe. On my tippy-toes, I rubbed the window with the heel of my hand.

The grime shifted, smearing, making the outside world visible but still blurry. All I could see were colors, the shapes unrecognizable.

“What do you see?” Claire asked eagerly.

Before I could answer, I heard Joel’s voice say a magical word, so enticing in fact that I turned my head back to see if it were true. “Food.”

This word had snagged everyone’s attention.

“Look,” he said brightly, keeping the volume of his voice in check. “Peaches.” He held two cans, one in either hand, holding them up for the rest of us to see.

“Are they safe?” Read asked suspiciously.

“Why not?” Joel snapped. “They’re canned.”

“Yes, but,” Read nodded toward the phonograph. “If that music is any indication of what type of time era we’re in, then those cans could be laced with lead.”

Claire’s shoulders slumped.

It wasn’t until Joel had mentioned food that I realized how hungry I was. My stomach knotted in anticipation, achingly empty. “Are you sure?” I asked, hardly able to keep the whine from my voice.

Read shrugged. “Lead lined the cans, and after so long, it began to seep into the food. If you guys want to risk it…”

Like Claire, my shoulders sagged visibly.

Joel set the two cans down on the bar and inspected them for several seconds. “They don’t look that old,” he reasoned. “Even that music player don’t seem old. Everything’s just dusty, not broken down.”

Read shrugged again. Staring down at Phoebe, he snapped his fingers beside her ear, but he got no reaction. He glanced at me and then sighed before trying something else.

“Open them,” Claire suggested. “If they look bad, then we won’t eat it. But we have to eat something.”

She had a point. We couldn’t keep going without any food. Though the way time flipped back and forth, maybe it wouldn’t matter. I didn’t know why I did it, but I glanced down at Phoebe’s leg again and nearly fell off the couch. “Read,” I hissed.

He followed my gaze to the snakebite.

I could see the dark veins in her leg where the poison had spread past her calf - past her knee! The purplish bruise was heated and angry all over again. Her face had paled, beaded with sweat.

“I thought she was better,” Cody whispered, his face slack with horror. “She was fine back there before she fell.”

“I know,” Read said.

I dropped down onto my haunches, over Phoebe’s body, and placed a hand under her nose. Her chest wasn’t rising and falling as I’d hoped, though warm breath tickled my fingertips. It was just enough to reassure me.

The music stopped, trapping us in the unsettling silence and our frantic thoughts.

Was my friend dying?

I glanced back to the window when a shadow walked by. I managed to swallow the scream as I tumbled back. It had been so quick that it was gone before I could even speak.

I tripped over Phoebe. I cringed, expecting a hard impact, and someone caught me from behind.

Struggling to untangle my legs, I righted myself. My savior surprisingly was Claire, who brushed me off a little too roughly, but it was the thought that counted.

“Someone’s outside,” I whispered.

Claire glanced at the window in alarm.

Joel came up behind her with two opened cans of peaches. He must have found an opener behind the bar. “They look fine,” he confessed. “Even the tin inside doesn’t look that bad.”

Claire glanced from Read to Joel before making up her mind and plunging her fingers into the can and retrieving a peach.

Joel nodded towards me. I shook my head, not entirely trusting the cans. I may have been hungry, but I would have to wait a little while longer.

Claire was about to bite into hers but hesitated when she saw my refusal. “Do you think they’re poisoned?” she asked sharply, her narrowed eyes still darting toward the window.

Joel went around the room. Cody took a few while Read refused. Joel was the first to eat, which seemed to encourage the other two.

“What can we do for Phoebe?” I asked Read, kneeling beside him at the couch.

He shrugged, his expression vacant, giving me no clue to how he was feeling.

I put an arm around his shoulder, trying to give him some comfort. Read and Phoebe had been friends and neighbors since they were little. I remembered being so jealous because they would invent private jokes in my absence. Not on purpose, but they had been together constantly. Once puberty hit, however, they drifted apart. By high school, they were in opposite classes, and though we would all hang out in the cafeteria, they’d made different friends. It wasn’t until college that they’d started fighting.

“What’s that?” Read interrupted my reminiscing.

I followed his gaze to the sheet beside the couch. It had yellowed with either age or cigarette smoke and covering something as tall as the couch arm.

“We have to figure a way out of here,” Joel said, already taking charge.

Standing, I brushed off my bare knees; the carpet had left small red imprints in my skin. “We will, Joel,” I said. “Once we figure out what we’re up against.”

“Maybe it was the thing you saw out the window,” Claire suggested, her usually drooping eyelids widening.

“What was it, anyway?” Cody asked.

I stepped around Read. “All I saw was a shadow. I think something stepped past the window, but I couldn’t tell you what.”

Joel shook his head as if I’d failed a major test.

I glared at him. We had such an understanding going on for a while there. Stepping around the sheet, I lifted it, keeping my body back just in case. It seemed solid enough underneath, something inanimate.

Pulling the sheet free, I stared down at a flat, tall stone. The top rounded like an archway, but it was too shadowed for me to see much else. Chewing my bottom lip, I trailed my eyes to the lantern, which Joel left on the bar.

“How do we carry Phoebe through all this?’ Claire asked. “It’s like Nora said earlier. What if we have to run?”

“We might have to take turns carrying her,” Joel said seriously, enjoying his new position.

Cody, standing with them and with a mouthful of peaches, said, “Maybe we can make one of those skiffs that you can drag people on.”

Joel said, “A travois? What would we make it out of?”

I walked between everyone and plucked the lantern from the bar.

“I don’t know,” Cody growled, perturbed at Joel’s condescending tone. “We make it as we go along. It’ll distribute her weight.”

“And if we end up having to run, we’re in the same position. We can’t run with a travois dragging behind.”

Cody grumbled something like, “Idiot,” under his breath before saying louder, “Two people can take it if we—”

Raising the lantern, I halted the bickering with one sharp intake of breath.

The stones were headstones. There were three of them, layered together against the couch.

I pointed at the tombstone, and Read craned his neck to see. Joel, Claire, and Cody clustered behind me as we read the inscription.

“What is it?” Read asked, unable to see from his place beside Phoebe.