I felt like I was in a cheap version of one of The Hunger Games movies with the cameras and the Big Brother creepy feeling of being watched.
But I wasn’t Katniss, and I would have killed for her bow right now.
I gave the camera a big ol’ smile and waved. “Get a good look, eh? You pervy peeping toms!” Now I understood how these bastards were betting on me. They were watching us, watching me.
Once I knew there were cameras, it was really easy to spot the others. I stopped waving when I passed the seventh one. What was the point? They knew I was there.
I followed the path in silence, wondering if I really should be going towards the forest at all or if I should have hiked down to the beach and tried my luck with a fire to attract the attention of some passing freight ship or fishing boat. But I needed water. Badly. There had to be a spring of fresh water somewhere deeper on this island.
By the time I’d crossed the meadow and made it to the forest, I was drenched in sweat and dying of thirst. I started seeing double. Crap. I needed to find water fast.
I found a log and nearly collapsed on it, taking a moment to fight the dizziness and dehydration. I’m not sure how long I sat there, unable to will myself to move, staring into space. And by the time I’d decided I should be moving, the sun was low, and I guessed I had maybe an hour or two left of good sunlight.
“Come on, Rowyn.” Pushing myself up again, I made it through the first line of trees and immediately felt the cooler air on my face. The darker, shaded forest that had spooked my imagination before was welcome now.
I could still make out a faint path of hard packed dirt and leaves. I followed it, and I didn’t have to go far before I heard the trickling of water.
Just off the path was a small stream of fresh water, full and swollen from a recent downpour.
Stumbling, I nearly crashed head first into it as I fell on my knees and began drinking like an animal, trying hard not to think of all the parasites I was ingesting. I did my best not to disturb the bottom so that the sediment wouldn’t mix in with the water. Because that would be gross.
After quenching my thirst, I washed my face, armpits and the back of my neck. Only when I had rested for a few minutes did I get back on my feet in search of food. I was hungry, but I could still go on a while without food now that I’d found water.
“Okay,” I breathed, glancing around. “Where are you, little berries?” I had no idea what kind of berries I’d find this early in the season, if any. “Mushrooms?” The only mushrooms I ate were the ones on my pizza. If Tyrius were here, he would have found something for us to eat. Preferably not a squirrel or a snake.
My throat throbbed at the thought of my friend and of Kora. I missed them terribly. I knew they’d be safe with Danto or even Gareth. But for how long? How long until Lisbeth went after Danto again... or Layla?
I had to get off this bloody island.
I trudged for another hour through the forest, following the path. There was a break in the trees and I came to another meadow with a large, spring-fed pond that had probably given me that water. The pulse of the supernatural was stronger here, pulling me in every direction, but still too faint for me to distinguish what it was or pinpoint its direction.
For all I knew, it could be the other prisoners. And where the hell were they? Where was everyone?
“Maybe this was a stupid idea.” I thought of going back. Now that I had water and knew where to get some more, maybe I should go and take my chances on the beach.
The meadow stretched further now, and I could see at least a mile in all directions, to more huddled trees and forest. But no buildings. Not even a shed. And definitely no prison.
Just more cameras.
I could see the red light flashing on the top of the camera box now that the sun was setting. “What the hell is going on?” I shouted, waving my arms like an idiot. The red light blinked a few times, almost like it was laughing at me.
I gave it the finger. “Screw this.” I turned around and went back the way I came, following the same path. Is this what the GHOSTS meant by not lasting ten hours? Were they waiting to see if I’d drop dead of hunger? Idiots. “I’m taking my chances with a fire,” I told the nearest tree. “I think I can build a fire. I mean... how hard can it be, right?” Now that I knew where the stream of water was, I knew I’d find it again without a problem.
I knew by the time I’d hit the beaches it would be dark. Frustration and anger made my steps heavy and noisy. I stepped through the broken brush and grasses making way too much racket and even tripping once. I gritted my teeth and soldiered on, my eyes slowly adjusting to the semi-darkness and revealing the shapes of trees, rocks and brush. It made it a little easier to move around safely.
“Stupid Gray Council,” I grumbled, hitting a pebble with my boot. “What the hell were they thinking sending me here like a castaway on some deserted island.” Was this how they got rid of their prisoners? By starving them to death? And yet it didn’t explain the clatter of energies in the air that increased with the setting sun.
Shit. I didn’t like this.
Pulse throbbing, I walked faster. A prickling of my skin came from nowhere, tripping my warning flags.
I burst back into the forest at a near jog as the sun stained the sky in dark oranges and blues. Birds exploded into the sky from all over the forest, flying above the treetops in mad swoops and dashes. Feathers fell from the sky as the frantic birds flew away. Always trust the animals. If the birds were getting the hell out of the forest, so should I.
I ran faster.
The air suddenly became too close, and the shrilling cries from the birds were cut off as if someone had turned the volume down. Lightning with no thunder flickered weirdly through the shadows of the forest, illuminating the trees and underbrush like rays of sunlight for a few seconds. Okay, that was weird.
Then I felt it—an ice-cold tendril that crawled over my skin, making the hair on the back of my neck prickle and my body taut. I’d felt the pulse of darkness before, but this time it was a hundred times colder, thicker, and more intense. I could almost taste it, as the air was overcome with the stink of sulfur and death.
The pull of darkness came from every direction and surrounded me. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to run.
I lowered myself in a crouch, feet planted, and waited.
And then I saw them.
They were manlike, immensely tall, lean, and pale, though the proportions were wrong. The shoulders were too narrow, the arms and legs too long and crooked. Black veins protruded through their thin white skin. Small black eyes rested on large, bulbous heads. Each of their fingers and toes tipped with dagger-sharp talons.
The vile, burnt smell of the creatures wafted through the air. There were so many of them, so densely packed, and their eyes danced with the slight vestige of human intelligence.
They opened their massive mouths, rimmed with fish teeth, but not a sound came out. Not even a hiss. Nothing. Nada. It was the weirdest thing I’d ever seen, not to mention the creepiest.
And then it hit me.
The Silent Gallows wasn’t a prison. The Silent Gallows were demons.
And there were hundreds of them.
“Oh, shit,” I breathed.
8
Kicking demon ass was probably my favorite thing in the world, right after kicking angel-born ass. But when staring at a hundred or so blood-thirsty demons, I’d end up being kicked in the ass.
I wasted no time. I pulled out my gun, flicked back the safety and started shooting. Yes, my aim sucked, but there were so many of them, I was bound to hit one.
As luck would have it, I shot one of the demons right between the eyes. It collapsed and then exploded into a cloud of white ash.
“Ha!” I shouted, realizing at the last moment that my outburst of enthusiasm was probably not my best course of action right now. It only seemed to piss off the others.
As a mass of white, putrid flesh, they charged, fast and swift.
>
I spun and ran. I didn’t know where I was going, and in my panic, I had lost the trail.
What the hell were these things? I knew my demons, but I’d never heard of the silent gallows demon.
They were charging all around me. The sound of claws scratching tree trunks exploded through the air as I ran, and I caught the demons leaping from tree to tree, branch to branch, like giant, ugly squirrels.
A shadow fell over me and a demon landed five feet in front of me.
I didn’t hesitate. If I hesitated I was dead.
I pulled the trigger and shot it in the face. The demon exploded as I ran through the cloud of white ash, trying not to breathe in the remnants because that would be disgusting.
Half-blinded by the ashes, I kept running, stumbling through the forest as I tried to think of how many rounds I had left. Not enough.
Adrenaline rushed through me, wild and with only one purpose—survival.
I was going to need a plan if I wanted to live longer than my predicted ten hours in this game of pursuit through the primeval forest.
Damn it all to the Netherworld. I was seriously neck-deep in the crapper.
I kept running.
How could anyone survive this place? I should have looked for cover. Why didn’t I look for cover? I caught a glimpse of movement to my left. Without pause I flung out my arm and shot.
The demon lunged at me, clearly letting me know I’d missed.
I ducked, barely missing a tree, and whirled. I didn’t give it a chance to charge at me again. It perched on the side of the tree not ten feet away. I aimed and put three shots into the white demon’s head. It jerked, twisting as it fell, and I bolted forward, not bothering to wait as it exploded into a cloud of white dust.
The demons were skilled tree climbers, swinging from side to side like monkeys and using their limbs to help maneuver their landings.
A sound made me look up. And then I wish I hadn’t.
White masses fell from the sky like a great big hail storm. It was hailing demons.
A headache flared up, my body trying to tell me to slow down, but I couldn’t. I tried hard not to think of my odds of surviving this attack. I had to make it. I had to get back to my life, my friends. I couldn’t let Lisbeth win.
With a renewed sense of strength, I pushed harder, running in the direction of the beaches, I hoped, though right now everything looked the same. I was in a maze of trees and shrubs.
A blur of white appeared in my line of sight. Bracing myself, I raised my gun and fired. Twice. Just to be sure.
The demon moved, my shots going wide and hitting the tree where it had been a second ago. The tree shattered, and bark flew. Then the demon leaped at me without slowing.
All I saw was a giant maw full of teeth before I pulled the trigger.
I shot four rounds into its mouth. The creature reared back, spitting black blood until it finally burst.
How many shots was that? How many rounds did this semi-automatic weapon have? I could barely think. The only thing that kept popping in my head was—run.
The sound of feet running behind me fueled me with a deeper panic. I didn’t dare stop to look over my shoulder. I didn’t have to look to know there was a wave of white demons behind me. I just kept running.
My throat throbbed, and it felt raw like I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs. It was a miracle I hadn’t tripped yet.
I crashed into a clearing and spent a few seconds getting my bearings, but when I stumbled into the pond I knew I’d been running around in circles.
This was it. I was going to die.
Knee-deep in the pond, my boots sticking to the foot of muck at the bottom, I took a breath and turned around, my gun pointed in front of me.
It was worse than I thought. So much worse.
The wall of white demons approaching looked like something out of this world and fit for the Netherworld. Tyrius had been right. This was the Netherworld on this side of the plane.
The mute demons came at me with a vengeance, running on all fours and looking like hairless albino werewolves. Ice descended over me, the silent coldness of battle with the fleshy white demons.
I started shooting. I didn’t really aim. I just shot the ones that came close.
My boot got caught in something on the pond’s bottom and I stumbled back, falling into the water as I struggled to keep myself upright with the gun while still moving deeper into the pond.
And then the sound came, the one I didn’t want to hear, the click of my empty gun.
With a final click, I hurled the gun at the nearest demon, hitting it on its white chest. The gun bounced off the demon and disappeared into the grass.
Panting, I stared, readying myself for a deadly battle.
But the demons just stood there. Some walked around the edges of the pound, but it was obvious they were careful not to touch the water.
They were afraid of the water.
“A-ha!” I laughed hysterically, kicking and splashing water with my hands. “Afraid of the water, eh? You ugly bastards.”
After my little tantrum, I wiped the sweat from my brows as I tried to think, now that I had a moment. They might be afraid now, but maybe that wouldn’t last. Would they disappear when the sun came up in a few hours? Maybe they’d get tired of waiting or maybe they’d even get creative. I couldn’t let that happen.
I knew there was no escaping them by running. I needed something else. Something stronger.
I closed my eyes, trying to control my breathing and trying to let go of the fear. I tapped into my will. I went deep inside myself, searching for that darkness and willing it to come.
But I couldn’t stop shaking. I couldn’t let go of the fear, not when I was surrounded by hundreds of demons.
I felt my body suck inward, pulling my soul and aura with it. My insides burned as I felt the energy slip from me. I couldn’t hold it. The hold on my will cracked, and it was gone.
And then nothing.
“Damn it!” I was shaking worse now, and I didn’t know if it was from the spent adrenaline or from fear. “Lucian!” I shouted, throwing my fists in the air and not knowing why. “A little help here! Lucian! I need your help!” I took a breath and then, “Please!”
I waited, looking around the pond for the archdemon. He wouldn’t want to get his suit dirty so I doubted he’d be anywhere near the pond.
The white demons shifted. They were restless. They were mute, but their brains were working. How much longer did I have before they figured something out, like to grow a pair of wings. The others were rigid, surrounding the pond.
The air was a mix of sulfur and pond scum. My clothes and skin were covered in demon ash and nasties from the pond. I would need twenty hot showers to get the smell off my skin.
“Lucian, you bastard!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Any time now would be a good time!” The archdemon said we shared a connection. Why wasn’t he here? Couldn’t he feel that I was in mortal danger? That I was having the panic attack of the century?
“Where are you? You chain-smoking archdemon!” Tears pricked, and I held my breath, trying to make the meadow stop spinning. “If I die! So does your damn gift! Do you hear me? Lucian? You’ll lose your precious gift!” Frantic, I spun on the spot, but all I saw was a sea of white demons. The archdemon had abandoned me. No surprise there. I should have known.
Damn it, I should have fought harder. I should have gotten out of the council meeting. I should have fried their asses.
“Rowyn? Is that you?”
I turned to the sound of the voice. Relief washed out of me. “Over here!” I called, biting my tongue so I wouldn’t spew the profanities that were on the edge of my lips. Finally, the bastard had decided to show up. I was ticked that he came now and not before when I was yelling. Still, better late than never.
My fear of the demons was mixed with a bit of curiosity. Would the demons obey him? Or would they be pissed that they were stuck on the island like the rest of
us?
Light was bounding towards me—orange and red, like the embers of a fire. Torches, fire blazing from them. The lights darted and flickered randomly, and I blinked, trying to get a better view. After a few seconds shapes came into view. And two people. The brash breathing and tread sounded incredibly loud in the otherwise oppressive silence of the white demons.
Definitely not Lucian. I stood there watching as the pond water made its way into my boots, praying to the souls I wouldn’t get leeches.
If not Lucian, who the hell were these people? The strangers waved the flaming torches at the demons like swords. One of the strangers, a man, raised his blazing torch, and the demons around them began to scuttle backward. Even in their weird mute voices, I saw the anger reflected in their black eyes and heard their shrieks of disappointment and rage as they thrashed the ground with their talons, tearing it up as they went. The others joined in and more demons began to retreat.
They demons were afraid of fire. Of course they were. Why hadn’t I thought of that? Because I was running for my life and was out of my mind.
The two strangers rushed into the pond next to me, their blazing torches waving at the demons and keeping them away.
“Rowyn!” said the same man. His voice carried around the pond like he knew me. “I can’t believe it’s you. It’s really you.”
I had no idea who this guy was. His face said nothing to me. How did he know me? But right now, I didn’t care. He was saving my ass. And I was going to do what the guy said.
“This way!” shouted the same man as one of the creatures heaved itself toward me, its circular mouth open. He thrust his burning torch at it. The demon backed away and closed its mouth, sneering in a silent hiss with ropes of drool hanging from it.
Together, the strangers moved around me and formed a protective shield. And then as one, we began to move forward slowly, pushing the demons further back with the fire. Gradually, the demons retreated enough to make a path right through them. But they were always there, lurking just a few feet away, waiting for us to make a mistake.
We moved like this, in a shambled cluster, back into the woods. I felt useless as I was led by these strangers, wishing I had one of those torches. I said nothing as they led me along another path towards the mountain. My muscles were tight and aching, and I never stopped watching the white demons as they moved like a tide around us. My toes squished in the pond water in my boots.
Dark Curse Page 6