by Hannah West
“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered, brushing back his hair as she encouraged to him to drink it all. She refilled it and passed it to me.
“Real wine instead of grape juice? In a Baptist church?” Dad joked. “Does Jesus know about this?”
I wanted to laugh but held it back, afraid it might turn into a sob. I tipped the chalice so he could drink. “Interesting bouquet,” he concluded.
A shadow passed by the row of stained-glass windows on the opposite side of the sanctuary. Every candle in the room flickered. The air changed, carrying the stench of bodies exhumed from graves.
“I need to get ready,” I said.
“Love you, Natty. Look out for yourself.”
“I love you, too. Don’t be scared, Dad.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
I turned away before he could see the tight expression on my face.
As I passed Levi, I dropped to my knees and touched my lips to his cheek. “I want them to be right,” I whispered. “I want this to work.”
Without waiting for a response, I hurried to the stage, feeling the ghost of the farewell kiss I’d hoped to receive but hadn’t earned.
Maggie extracted her pistol. “Get up in the choir pews,” she said to me. “You can’t fight like the rest of us.”
Heather returned and closed the door behind her. “Most people have gotten bored and gone home,” she said to Maggie. “It’s just a security guard and some kids watching from their van across the street. I reinforced the beguilement.”
“We’ve done the best we can,” Maggie said. “It’s time.”
Heather nodded. Kate retrieved her rifle from where it leaned against the piano.
My trigger finger itched as I waited.
As the other Wardens circled around the victims, a demonic screech cleaved through the quiet night.
Darkness covered the windows. Antler tines and horns cast dancing shadows on the walls. There were haggard breaths and restless howls. I tasted panic in my mouth, swallowed it, and cocked my revolver.
THIRTY-TWO
The wooden double doors at the front of the sanctuary shook. Not as if a person was pounding from the other side—more like a mighty, malignant wind prepared to dismantle everything in its path.
Sweat dripped down my temples as the Wardens’ chants and the ruckus outside grew louder. I couldn’t see my dad or Levi anymore. They’d been swallowed in the sea of black cloaks.
The doors rattled harder, the shadows surrounding the church darkened, and a few of the candles snuffed out. The smell of death overwhelmed me, threatening to banish all hope.
And then the Woodwalkers broke through, busting the locks, splintering the wood, darkening the doorway like apocalyptic horsemen from hell.
I nearly balked at the sight of all twelve creatures with their spindly bones and fresh, bleeding hides, their towering heights, their filthy claws, some hanging so low that they dragged across the carpet.
But I breathed, aimed, and squeezed the trigger.
My target tilted its antlered skull, barely dodging my bullet. I took another shot, grazing its ribs, which only seemed to make the creature angry. It charged as other shots rang out but was thwarted by Camila and Lindsey, who whipped their blades around and evaded the effortless swipes of its claws. Other Woodwalkers advanced down the outer aisles. The cloaked women at the center held together in formation, turning to face their opponents.
The long-anticipated battle was underway, for better or worse.
A Woodwalker with a canine skull uprooted a pew and hurled it toward my comrades. Most of them ducked. I noticed Emmy, who must have come out of hiding. She merely gaped at the appalling creature, the ceremonial knife I gave her useless in her grip, until Vanessa yanked her to the floor. The heavy wooden pew struck a few elbows and skimmed hoods, but Vanessa was up again within a second, hacking away at a Woodwalker until its bones dropped at her feet. The shadow form would have to flee and find a new host. One down, eleven to go.
But the shadow didn’t flee. With a screech, it shot to the far corner of the room, up in the ceiling, and stayed there. Waiting.
Maggie, Kate, Heather, and a couple others with firearms backed toward me to get better shots. The rest of the group remained staunch, huddled together in formation. Lindsey fought so swiftly that I couldn’t score a clean shot at her opponent. But she didn’t need me, and that was a good thing, because another made me its target. This one had a large bird beak and talons.
I shot the last cartridge in my right revolver, narrowly missing its throbbing, bloody heart, and grabbed the left revolver from the holster. The creature alighted on the top of the lectern like a gargoyle and sprang toward me through the gun smoke snaking over my head. My shot hit true, right in the heart, and blood spattered on my face as the empty carcass mowed me down. Sick of pain slashing across my skin, I roared and dug myself out of the stinking pile of remains to see the shadow form fleeing to another dark corner of the room.
A few others had been taken out. From what I’d seen, the shadow forms weren’t strong enough to engage in physical altercations. I wondered what we were supposed to do to them—a topic covered in the meeting I’d stormed out of, perhaps—when Maggie shouted a threatening incantation I’d never heard, baring her teeth and twisting her fingers. The Woodwalker I’d just shot thrashed in the corner, releasing an ear-piercing squeal that seemed to vibrate on several frequencies.
I began to hope that we could hold out. How many minutes had passed already? The witching hour couldn’t last forever, and if we stayed strong like this, we could win.
I’d never been more desperate to be proven wrong.
One Woodwalker lifted Kate by the throat, choking off her breath. Seeing me raise my revolver to help her out, Kate stopped trying to pry the claws from her throat and shut her eyes, waiting for me to take a shot. Her reaction made the Woodwalker look my way, but not in time to dodge the bullet that bit through its bottom jaw.
I cursed under my breath. That was supposed to be a kill shot.
Thankfully, Lindsey jumped in and speared it through the heart.
A core group of Wardens remained in the center aisle, surrounding the victims, and the remaining Woodwalkers focused on them. A stab of fear pierced my chest, and my concern for my dad and Levi blinded me to the Woodwalker looming in the corner of my vision. I didn’t see it lunging for me until it was too late. Pointed fangs tore into my shoulder and I screamed.
Its hairy, wet, stinking form squirmed on top of me, but I used the heel of my boot to land a kick to the exposed vertebrae jutting out from the rotten skin. The spine collapsed and the creature writhed until Lindsey leaped onto the platform, pressed her boot down on its skull, and jabbed it through the heart. Our hands were so bloody that it was hard for her to get a good grip and help me to my feet.
Shots and screeches rang out through the sanctuary. But once I was able to unpack the visual chaos, I realized the group defending the victims had dwindled. A flash of red hair behind a swaying cloak made fresh panic pound through my veins.
Emmy huddled on the ground next to her brother. She held her knife out in frantic protest, her expression like that of a cornered cat. A sinewy, tall Woodwalker that was more bones than meat used its tapered claws to lift her by the collar. She jabbed out blindly and Sofia rushed to her aid, leaving Ryan completely vulnerable. One of the shadows lingering in the corner slithered through the air toward him, stretching a wispy fingertip in his direction. As soon as it brushed his cheek, his mouth fell agape. The shadow slid down his throat and slithered behind his eyes.
I leaped off the stage and filled in a gap in the formation. My dad watched with horror as Ryan started gnawing at the ropes around his wrist. I lunged forward to seize him by the jaw. His muscles felt powerful beneath my grip. He snapped at me and almost bit my finger off.
I called for help, but only Camila was able to break free from her fight. She leaped over two pews and executed a swift maneuver, locking
Ryan’s neck in a sleeper hold. There was something savage in his features. He strained and twisted until he was able to clamp onto Camila’s forearm with his teeth. Camila cried out but didn’t loosen her grip. Ryan went one desperate step further and started scratching at his own face, dragging his nails through his flesh and drawing blood. Camila had no choice but to let go.
I knew that once possessed, the victims would hurt anyone, even themselves, to get to the sacred glade. I had to stop him.
I whacked him on the head with the handle of my gun, hoping to sedate him. But it didn’t work. He hissed at me, broke his ropes like they were dental floss, and tore out of the sanctuary into the night.
Breathless, I crouched between Levi and my dad, keeping a watchful eye out as I reloaded my revolver.
“What’s happening?” my dad asked. His eyes darted at the mayhem our indiscernible enemies were causing.
I closed the loading gate and looked around. Only a few of us were still guarding the victims. The rest had scattered in the fight or chased after the escapees. One Warden, the librarian, lay on the floor, alive or dead, I couldn’t tell. Lindsey engaged in a fierce match of blades and claws. Kate reloaded her rifle by the Communion table.
A Woodwalker ended a skirmish with Vanessa by tossing her against the wall. Noticing the young boy undefended, it barreled toward him. Its feral hog skull was long and thin, with tusks curling out from its mouth. I blew off one of the tusks with a bullet. Kate finished the job, and then started spouting the same unfamiliar incantation Maggie had used, the words flooding out in a panic—words that evoked the powers of good to banish evil—but it was too late. The shadow defied her and claimed its host.
I could see the boy fighting for a moment before his features froze and his eyes turned into black discs.
He lunged at Emmy and grabbed her knife, blade-first, slicing his own hand. He cut the ropes around his wrists and ankles. I gripped his forearm and tried to finagle a safe grasp on the knife, but he let out a bone-chilling screech, dropped the weapon, and ran out.
I could see now why it was impossible to intervene once the Possession took place.
A few defenders regrouped around the remaining victims, but it wasn’t enough. We weren’t enough.
The last few minutes or seconds or fractions of seconds shot by in a pandemonium of feverish chants and deafening gunshots. I landed a few more hits, but suddenly our enemies were all shadow, and I could no longer use my physical strength or skill against them. One, two, three more victims were possessed.
Feeling helpless, I pressed back to be near my dad and Levi. But Levi wasn’t there anymore.
I looked up to see his figure silhouetted against the darkness outside the sanctuary doors. Emmy screamed his name and tugged on his arm, but he shoved her onto the concrete steps. Sobbing, she chased after him until they were both gone.
Dropping to my knees beside my dad, I covered his head with my arms. But a cold, spindly hand wrapped around the back of my neck and tossed me toward the front of the sanctuary. The top of my head struck the Communion table, and I sank to the floor.
The Woodwalker who had flung me away dropped its scavenged bones and possessed my father’s body.
Cold shock overcame me. The worst had happened, and I couldn’t stop it.
Most of the Wardens who could still fight had pursued the victims. Only Maggie and a few wounded Wardens remained.
Maggie tried to shut the doors, but they were crooked on their hinges. She turned back to my dad as a shudder tore through him. I thanked God I couldn’t see his face from here. I thought of Levi throwing Emmy to the ground. Had she given up yet? What would the Woodwalker inside him do to her to fulfill its mission?
Fiery tears slipped down my face. It was over. We had lost, just as I’d feared.
“Dad,” I said, my voice cracking as I lifted myself to my elbows. The world swayed. He flinched in my direction, and I saw gleaming black eyes.
With a ferocious, choked noise, he fought the ropes around his wrists and feet. I had wondered why the Wardens hadn’t used handcuffs, but the disturbing image of one of the victims gnawing off his own wrists to get free came to mind.
I pushed off the floor, ready to chase him down when he broke free. Before I could reach him, Maggie put the barrel of her pistol to his forehead.
“Stop!” I screamed. “What are you doing?”
My dad—or the Woodwalker inside him—used the distraction as an opportunity to break free. He tore out of the church with supernatural speed and strength.
Instead of chasing after him, Maggie tucked away her pistol and sprang toward me, scooping up a snapped strand of rope. Did she have a plan for stopping him?
To my shock, she seized my wrist in a powerful grip and used her momentum to push me. I fell on my back, and my excruciating wounds protested. I didn’t understand. Was she trying to protect me? Forcing me to duck from some unseen danger? It didn’t occur to me to fight back until she’d tied my wrists to the leg of a pew with a swift, decisive knot.
“What are you doing?” I demanded again, kicking hard. But the element of surprise was on her side. She was out of range by the time I realized she’d betrayed me. Again.
“He wanted this,” she said, withdrawing her gun. “As a contingency plan.”
“Wanted what—?” I started to ask, but she had already turned her back, and I already knew the answer.
The conversation that had passed between my dad and Maggie while I was sleeping. Levi had been part of it, too. They had offered themselves to stop the completion of the Claiming, to throw off the magical symmetry.
“No!” I screamed after her, fighting against the grating rope. I pulled and chewed at the knot, but it was solid. I knew Maggie’s aim was unmatched. Unless my dad had already gotten away, there was no hope.
Spinning around, I planted my feet for leverage against the pew and yanked with all of my power, but this old place had sturdy bones. I gritted my teeth and roared, and the magical strength within me cracked the wood. With the splintered pew leg dangling from my bound hands, I charged down the center aisle, screeching Maggie’s name.
Everything outside was black. Even the stars seemed muted. The waning moon was hidden away, and its light was fainter than a match in a mansion.
But Maggie’s white hair caught my eye. She stood at the bottom of the steps. Her hood had slipped off. I followed her silhouette, tracing the outline of her cloaked arm as she raised her pistol and took aim at a figure in the distance.
A crazed sound issued from my throat. Gripping the remnant of the pew leg in both hands, I leaped down the stairs and whipped it into the curve of her neck, throwing her aim as she pulled the trigger. We rolled together onto the concrete sidewalk, her pistol clattering in front of us. I managed to wriggle my left hand out of the bonds, but Maggie found her feet before I did.
From where I lay, I swept out my free hand and caught her ankle before she could run after my dad. She went down, smacking her face and elbows on the pavement, and turned to glare at me with a bloody nose and lip.
“You want them to win?” she demanded, prying at my fingers. “Kurt and Levi asked what they could do to save the others. They volunteered.”
I held fast to her ankle, but she ripped out of my grasp. I fell back on the pavement with a sob.
I hated her. I hated everything. I hated my dad for volunteering. I hated myself for failing to convince the others to avoid this violence.
With every second that passed, I told myself I could rally. I could stop her. It wasn’t too late. But it was.
My dad was gone either way.
THIRTY-THREE
I wanted to curl on my side, to cover my ears and shield my mind against the resolute gunshot that would erupt at any second. But I couldn’t move.
“Nat, we have to go. Come on.”
I blinked up to find Emmy’s bloodstained, fiery curls tumbling around my face. Vanessa stood behind her, claw marks slashed across one cheek. Maggie had
disappeared.
“We’re going to finish this before she can.” Vanessa tugged on my elbow, pulling me up.
“I have Levi’s keys,” Emmy said. “We have to hurry.”
I tried to run, but I was weak, and the debris weighed me down. Emmy cursed uncharacteristically and hurried me along. We ran over the churchyard, the grass like a black sea, and pounded down the sidewalk, crashing through the hedges on the corner of the street where Levi’s truck waited in the dark.
All that remained of me was blood and sweat and pain and the taste of salty tears on my lips. The curb tripped me, and I slammed against the passenger door, scraping off a chunk of paint with the splintered pew leg.
“Hold up!” someone said, and a grip restrained my arm. I snapped my head around and found Lindsey.
I yanked the rusty door handle, but she didn’t release me.
“Stop! I’m trying to help you! Just hold still.” A blade flashed in her hand. The rope slithered over my wrist and the pew leg clacked on the curb.
“I’m coming with you.”
I grinned, feeling a little manic. We were all here. This could work. But we didn’t have much time.
“Get in!” Emmy said, and started the engine. Before I even shut the door, Emmy jammed the gas pedal down so hard that we screeched across the asphalt.
“They thought I was asleep back in the sanctuary, but I heard them talking,” Emmy said, ripping off her cloak and glaring at the road. “Maggie said that all it would take was one of them dying before the Eviction to stop the Claiming. Your dad and Levi said they would sacrifice themselves. Hold on.”
She took a sharp right turn.
“God, I had no idea,” Vanessa said. “That’s messed up.”