The Trail of Ruins

by Shannon Reber

  “Honey, none of this was ever your fault. None of it.”

  Deke’s head came up. That was his dad’s voice. And he was almost positive the other voice was Skylar’s. He shifted, trying to stand up but he felt so weak and tired.

  “Deke always loved it here,” Skylar’s voice said quietly.

  “Yeah. I come out here sometimes, just to sit and remember,” his dad said and let out a long sigh. “Maybe it’s time for us to say goodbye.”

  Deke’s heart rate spiked. Goodbye? But he needed them. He wanted to go home and be safe.

  Deke’s heart sank. He was dead. He knew it was true. He didn’t want Skylar to be sad. He didn’t want his dad to be sad. He just wanted . . . rest.

  He closed his eyes, listening to his dad and sister’s voices as they spoke about the past. He drifted to sleep, his mind filled by the scenes his family spoke about. He didn’t want them to hurt anymore.

  I love you, he thought and his body took him down into strange, fevered dreams.

  TWENTY

  I had a bad feeling as Simms pulled into Frank Voca’s driveway. There were two cars parked there. After a quick check, I found that one was registered to Frank, the other to Knox.

  Since Ian and Spencer were supposed to be following Knox, I looked around for Spencer’s car. I didn’t see it. It was possible he had parked out of sight. Something told me that wasn’t true.

  Where are you? I texted Ian, my worry only growing when I got no response.

  I turned on the GPS locator we had set up, my heart skittering in my chest as I saw where his phone was. It was with Erkens’ phone . . . at Bertie Suile’s house. Why were all three of them there? Had something happened?

  “Simms, something’s wrong,” I said in a weak voice, images of Ian’s dead body playing through my mind.

  He glanced back at me. “Do we need to go or should we stay here and take care of this situation?” he asked, leaving it up to me.

  I knew we needed to stay there but it scared me more than anything else had done in years. “As soon as you arrest Frank and Knox and we deal with the spirits, I’m leaving.”

  Daw motioned to me with his thumb. “I’m with Madison,” he said, his eyes fixed on the house as we all moved to get out.

  The house was on a cul-de-sac that ended at a trail to the Hollow. It was a boxy red two-story very much in need of care. It was a place that, if someone mowed the lawn and power washed it, there could be some charm. As it was, it just looked depressing.

  Simms checked to make sure his badge was visible before he looked down at his partner. “Roy, we might need your help with the witch,” he told the dog-shifter as he pulled out his gun.

  Roy barked, turning toward the trees.

  Simms flicked his eyes toward the house. “Are you sure?” he asked in a skeptical tone.

  Roy barked and took a step toward the trail.

  I didn’t have the telepathic link those two had but Roy's meaning was clear. Just to be sure, I brought up my phone and scanned the house with the satellite. “He’s right. There’s no one in there,” I said, turning toward the trail.

  “Hold on, Madison. What’s your plan here?” Simms asked me.

  I raised my phone and the chunk of amber. “First, my plan is to find them. Second, I’m going to punch Knox in the nose.” I scowled, feeling my temper rise up.

  I knew it had more to do with my worry for Ian, Spencer, and Erkens but I didn’t care. The whole case had been weird and annoying. Add to that my worry, frustration, and fear and I was a ticking time bomb.

  The rustle of leaves in the trees sounded like whispering as we got to the trail. Whispering. Jeering. No. That wasn't it. That was just my fear. We had to get to Frank Voca before he turned himself into some kind of evil warlock or whatever.

  If he summoned a demon to destroy the soul of the little boy, that demon would become part of him. They would be bound by the life they had taken. Frank Voca wouldn't be a man anymore.

  There would be no conscience. There would be no compassion. There would only be the demon and his desire for more souls to destroy. It was a horrifying idea.

  As that horror really registered in my mind, an idea came to me. I stopped and handed Daw the chunk of amber. “Spencer told me that when this was around the summoner, the colors inside it would be fractured. It will be black, gray, and brown.”

  He took it and inclined his head. “Are we splitting up?” he asked, looking down the trail like he wasn’t fond of my idea.

  I stood straight. “I’ve met them both. If they see me, they’ll know something’s up. I’m going to go through the woods.”

  I did my best to ignore the quivery feeling that passed over me. We were very close to the place where I had seen the ghost as a kid. I shouldn’t be afraid but I was. Facing down my fears was apparently just what I had to do.

  Simms nodded. “It’s a good plan.” He glanced down at Roy, looking like he listened to something the dog-shifter had said. “Roy’s going with you. We need to be careful. From what you’ve told me, these guys are willing to do whatever it takes to get what they want.”

  I turned to walk out into the woods. “You guys be careful too,” I said, scanning the trees warily.

  I quickly turned on the GPS on Frank Voca’s phone, nodding when I saw that it was indeed on the trail. It was also moving, so wherever he was going, I knew we needed to hurry.

  So with my phone in my hand and Roy by my side, I took off into the forest. I had no idea what we would find. All I knew was that we had to stop Frank Voca before he destroyed Deke Holtz’s soul.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Deke Holtz blinked, his mind coming back to reality very slowly. He wanted to go back to sleep. His head hurt more than it did before and a dry cough shook his body.

  The cough made his head throb. He let out a little groan, tears rising in his eyes. That was when he heard the voices.

  “I heard something.”

  “Where?”

  “Not sure. Inside the ruins, maybe.”

  Deke wrapped his arms around his legs and buried his face in his knees. He wished he had followed his dad and Skylar. He wished he had even spoken to them. Maybe if he had told them out loud that he loved them, he wouldn’t feel so scared.

  His body shuddered as he tried to suppress a cough. The small, choked sound he made was all that was needed.

  “Here he is,” a man’s voice said and someone hauled him to his feet.

  “Knox, let him go. Look at him,” the mean man said, looking furious as he stepped closer.

  “You know what, Frank? I am getting sick of you ordering me around.” Knox held onto Deke’s arm as he jabbed a finger toward Frank. “I told you the plan was insane. I told you it was stupid to listen to that kid. You didn’t listen to me.” He gripped Deke’s arm so hard, it made him cry out. “You think--”

  He broke off when a shadowy figure shot out of the ruins and knocked him to the ground. That figure turned and Deke was able to see that it was a man or it had been a man a long time before.

  The ghost wore a bloodstained shirt and pants that were hiked up so high, they almost went to his ribs. The boots and hat that completed his outfit did not look like anything somebody Deke knew would ever wear.

  And for the first time since the mean man had woken him up, Deke didn’t feel afraid. He knew the ghost wouldn’t hurt him. Deke trusted him without the slightest hesitation.

  “Don't be afraid. They're coming,” the ghost said in the nicest voice Deke had heard since he'd come back.

  The mean man started saying words in a language Deke didn’t recognize. Those words made him feel cold all over. Something inside him felt like it was being torn away.

  Deke didn’t know what was going on. Whatever it was, it was bad. He could feel that. The sound of the words the man spoke was . . . evil.

  A darkness rose up from the ground around him and shadowy hands reached for him. Those hands reached into his chest, wrapping around something inside him.
He felt it tearing like the hands were crushing the part of him that was . . . him.

  His eyes turned to look at the ruins. It had been his favorite place. Would it be the last place he ever saw?

  The figure of the ghost stepped between Deke and the shadowy hands. As soon as the contact was broken, Deke felt warmth spread over him.

  But there was horror as well. The ghost. What was happening to the ghost?

  Tears filled Deke’s eyes as he saw the ghost evaporate, the figment of him that was left having been destroyed. That ghost-man had been good and nice. He was gone, though. And it was all to save Deke.

  His body went tense as he gritted his teeth. “You’re a bad man!” he shouted at the guy named Frank, his anger driving away the fear.

  Frank blinked, turning his eyes away. He kept saying those words. As he did, the shadow-hands moved toward him again.

  Deke turned and ran. He had to get away from all of them. They were all bad. He needed to find somebody else. Anybody.

  He could hear footsteps behind him as he ran through the ruins and feel the horrible darkness. He didn’t stop. He went faster.

  His foot caught on a root and he fell . . . or he almost fell. A hand caught him and a pair of arms wrapped around him. It wasn’t the mean way the guy named Knox had done. It was soft and sweet. A hug.

  And the sound of a dog’s bark came next. Deke didn’t care what was going on. All he did was hold onto the woman, sure she would keep him safe.

  TWENTY-TWO

  I almost jumped out of my skin when the little boy fell into me. I hadn’t expected anything like that but there he was, shaking in my arms.

  The smell that radiated off him was just like Phyllis had been. It was formaldehyde but I wouldn’t have identified it if I didn’t know that’s what it was. The smell made my eyes burn.

  I ignored it and held onto him with one hand, my other wrapped around the retractable baton in my bag. I could feel something around us, something dark and foreboding but I didn't know if it was a ghost or a demon. I hoped my tattoo and necklace would protect not just me but the little guy as well.

  The two men I had met earlier that day skidded to a stop, their eyes wide at the sight of me. I drew my hand out of the bag without extending the baton. It probably didn't look threatening at all, just a black handle almost concealed by my fingers.

  Knox’s eyes narrowed at the sight of me. “Sweetheart, why don’t you come over here? That thing you're holding onto is dangerous,” he said, taking a step closer.

  I shifted so my arm had freer range of motion and also shielded the little boy who quivered against me. “Call me sweetheart again, Knox. Let’s see where it gets you,” I threatened, feeling Roy step forward with his eyes fixed on Frank Voca.

  Knox ignored everything other than me. “That guy you were with earlier doesn’t call you sweetheart?” he asked, stepping even closer.

  I didn’t answer. Instead, I shifted the little boy to make sure he was shielded.

  As Knox moved in, Frank started speaking. It sounded like the language was a mix of Latin and possibly Romanian. The helm of awe tattoo on my side warmed, telling me it was a spell.

  Roy let out a ferocious bark and lunged.

  Knox took advantage of my distraction and extending his hand to grab me.

  I flicked my wrist to make the baton whip out and smashed it into the man’s wrist. I kept my left arm around the little guy, whipping the baton down to strike at a nerve in Knox’s leg. It would cause him enough pain to make him no longer a threat but wouldn’t cause him permanent damage.

  He howled like I had chopped off his leg, swearing and threatening retaliation in the same breath.

  Roy yelped as Frank kicked him but lunged, burying his teeth in the man’s arm. Blood dripped to the ground as Frank tried to get free.

  But like the Hollow conspired against us, a half translucent figure of another little boy darted forward. “Stop it!” the ghost yelled and twigs and fallen leaves began to whip around us. “Stop hurting my daddy!”

  And for the tenth time, my heart broke. Wesley Voca had almost been ten when he died. His father had found a way to draw his soul back to earth but hadn’t been able to shove his soul into the body he had planned to use.

  Frank’s mouth fell open. It was like he didn’t feel Roy’s teeth in his arm anymore. His eyes were fixed on the ghost of his son.

  Wesley floated closer to me, his eyes fixed on the revenant-boy in my arms. “My daddy needs you. He’s lonely,” his echoey voice said, coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

  “But I’m dying again,” the little guy said, moving his head so he could look at the ghost. “I’m sick. I can feel it.” He didn’t sound scared of death. It almost sounded like he was relieved.

  Wesley flickered a little closer. “You can’t die. My daddy needs you. He’s lonely,” he repeated.

  Frank Voca sank to his knees. “Wesley,” he whispered, holding out his hand to the little ghost.

  The feeling of cold wrongness intensified to a level that made me sure the darkness was a demon. It was the only answer. It wasn’t coming for me. I knew that. But the little boys were in serious danger.

  “Roy, do you know how to get rid of whatever is coming?” I asked, relieved to hear Simms and Daw rushing through the trees in our direction.

  Roy released Frank’s arm and let out a whine. His meaning was obvious.

  “You have to stop this,” I said to Frank, praying he would be able to undo whatever he had done.

  He blinked, his eyes still fixed on the ghost of his son. “It was my fault,” he whispered, tears shimmering in his eyes. “I was drunk and the bartender took my keys. I didn’t want to pay for a cab, so I called my wife. I knew she was going to be pissed at me but I didn’t care. Michelle woke Wesley up and stuck him in the backseat of the car and came to get me. They say the semi blew a tire and flipped . . . right onto our car. My wife and son died because I was drunk and stupid.”

  I raised a hand to wave Daw and Simms over, my eyes still fixed on Frank Voca. “I understand how that would make you feel responsible but I don’t understand why you would call their souls back and try to shove them into someone else’s body.”

  Daw raised the chunk of amber in Frank's direction enough that I could see it too. Spencer had been right. The colors were fractured . . . but there was a lot more black in it than any other color. Frank had already summoned the demon. He and that thing were bound.

  Frank sniffed, still staring at the ghost of his son. “I wanted them to know I’m sorry. I wanted them to know I’ve changed. I want them back,” he said, his shoulders shaking with the power of his emotions. “He told me I could have them back. He said all I had to do was read the words and I could put their souls into an empty vessel.”

  “Who, Frank? Who told you that?” I probed, feeling the cold growing closer and closer to us.

  “He didn’t give me his name. He just gave me the book and told me it could make my dreams come true.”

  “Give me the book,” I ordered, my hand wrapped around the knife I’d gotten from the shop.

  Frank didn’t hesitate. He handed the book to me like he was relieved to be rid of it.

  I hugged the little revenant before taking the book and setting it on the ground. I had to stick the baton in my pocket before I knelt in front of it. With a prayer it would work, I stabbed the warded knife into the book of spells.

  Whatever magic was in the blade, it blazed out of the knife. The book was alight for only a few seconds before it went out. The book was now useless or I hoped that was true, anyway.

  Simms stepped closer, his mouth set in an angry line. “Frank Voca, you are under arrest. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you by the court.”

  “No!” Wesley shrieked and a whirlwind of leaves and branches flew at Simms.

  I wasn’t sure what to do. There was
salt in my bag but Wesley was just a little boy. It would be cruel to hurt him for trying to protect his dad.

  Deke stepped directly into the whirlwind until he was in front of Wesley. “If you hurt people, that makes you a bad guy. You can’t do that,” he said, his little boy logic apparently reaching something in Wesley.

  The leaves and other forest clutter all fell back to the ground as the ghost and the revenant stared each other down. “My dad is sad,” Wesley said like he believed that justified everything.

  Deke nodded. “My dad is sad too and so’s my sister. I don’t want them to be sad anymore. I want them to know I love them.”

  Wesley turned, his figure flickering over and over. “I love you, Dad. I want to go back to the happy place to see Mom. I miss her. You can come see us later.”

  Frank moaned, his body rocking back and forth. “I’m so sorry, buddy. I was selfish and stupid.”

  “It’s okay,” Wesley said, smiling as Frank looked at him. “I miss Mom,” he echoed, his body growing less and less visible.

  “I miss you both. I love you, Wesley.”

  “Love you too. See you later, alligator.” And with those words, the figure of the boy faded to nothing.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Tears filled my eyes as I watched Frank weep. He had done some questionable things but he was sympathetic. If someone had come to me and told me there was a way to bring Emma back, I would have done it without hesitation.

  The way he’d gone about it had been wrong. That was true. He had been a victim as well, though.

  I opened my mouth to speak, to ask him about whoever had given him the book of spells. It shut when Knox launched himself off the ground. He grabbed my hand that still held the knife and twisted it until it came free. Before I even realized what had happened, I was held in front of him like a shield with that knife pressed to my throat.

  “Everybody back off or I slit her throat,” he growled, the point of the knife making my skin quiver.