by Sara Clancy
Desperate for air and numbed by the cold, Nicole gathered the last shreds of energy and pushed off the muddy bottom, surging up towards the surface. Sunlight glistened above her, glorious but always out of reach. Taunting her as she was carried away by the violent tide.
Chapter 14
The tips of the grass smacked against Benton’s waist as he sprinted to catch up to Nicole. She had still been spitting up water when she had started to run, choking out excited words that barely made any sense. He knew that energy, though.
She knows what it is.
Bursting through the wall of shifting color, he collided with Dorothy. The older woman wrapped an arm around Benton’s waist and kept him up with a surprising amount of strength.
“What happened? Where is it?” The rapid succession of questions didn’t come out like they would have if her daughter had asked them. Dorothy’s voice remained solid. Controlled.
“I’ve figured it out.” Nicole doubled over, braced her hands on her knees and sucked in deep breaths. All the while, she grinned with pure delight. “Oh, and the dead guy’s Mason something or other.”
“Costa,” Benton supplied.
“You found him?” Wapun asked as she hurried over, the others close behind. She went straight for her great niece and placed a tender hand on her shoulder.
“We’re alright, Auntie,” Nicole said. Pausing to gulp down another breath, she gestured vaguely with one hand. “He’s in one of the taller trees by the river. Pretty well hidden.”
Benton used that time to pass the dead man’s personal effects to Constable Rider. She studied them for a moment before glancing around and shoving them into her pocket.
“Why did you scream?” Sophia asked, once again fiddling with her pink hair.
As far as nervous tells go, that one’s pretty obvious, Benton thought.
“What were you thinking?” Daniel cut in before either Nicole or Benton had enough air to reply. “We could hear you from here. How are we supposed to explain that to people? We have enough to deal with trying to keep everyone safe without you terrorizing them.”
“Oh, my God. Deal with your issues,” Benton hissed.
Daniel bristled, Nicole looked horrified, and Dorothy adopted a look of furious disapproval the depths of which only a mother could reach. Normally, it would have been more than enough to crush Benton into submission. But the horrors in his head fortified his will. Straightening his spine, he turned to the man, fists balling in rage.
“You never once considered the idea that the spirits beyond your understanding don’t give a shit about what you want, have you? Always just assumed that the good ones held you in high regard and the bad ones feared your name. Must be one hell of a shock to learn that you’re just as insignificant as everyone else. Well, get over it. Your inferiority complex is not my problem.”
“How dare you speak to me like that,” Daniel stammered.
“Yesterday, I was told that I’m going to die right there.” He jabbed a finger towards the riverbank. “Today, I was possessed by death. Also, I don’t like you. Pick any one of these as a reason for why I’m not going to hold your hand through this.”
“Benton,” Nicole beseeched.
Latching onto her forearm, he yanked his best friend roughly in the direction of the teepee.
“Hey,” she protested.
“We’re getting changed before we get hypothermia,” Benton snapped.
Nicole didn’t fight him. But she did look over her shoulder and request a laptop and breakfast before he managed to wrangle her inside. The moment the flap flopped back, severing them from the rest of the world, Benton broke. She squeaked a little when he engulfed her in a crushing hug.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he muttered.
Tightening his arms made her gasp. He reeled back at the pained sound, catching sight of the blood that now smeared his forearms.
“You’re hurt.”
“It’s just a scratch. Good news; we now know that this thing isn’t poisonous.”
Idiot, you tell people about these things! He barely managed to contain the words, switching them out with a gruff request to see. Turning around, she pulled her hair over one shoulder, allowing him to peel the back of her shirt up carefully. Blood stained water rained out of the soaked material to pool at their feet.
“No problem, right?” she pressed.
Thin claw marks started at the tips of her shoulder blades and worked their way up to the back of her neck. Starting shallow and growing deeper. Benton thumbed at the splinted beads of her choker chain.
“See? Not a problem, right?” she asked.
“Would have been if you weren’t wearing your choker.”
Barely contained energy made her squirm as he retrieved the First Aid kit from her bag. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet by the time he managed to smear the antiseptic cream over the cuts. They had mostly stopped bleeding by now.
“Don’t tell mom,” Nicole said. “She’ll worry.”
“Didn’t you learn anything about the dangers of keeping things from her?”
“I’ll tell her. Just not right now. She’ll try and take over.”
“Oh, yeah. Wouldn’t want professionals calling the shots in emergency situations.”
“Benton,” Nicole whined.
“Fine.” I really hate that sound. “There. All done.”
She quickly turned around and brought him into another hug. “I’m sorry I made you worry. And that I brought you to the river. That was really insensitive.”
He smiled. “You want to make it up to me?”
“Of course,” she said.
“Let me be mean to Daniel. I really hate that guy.”
Nicole giggled and gave him a playful shove. “Come on. We have work to do.”
“I’m taking that as a yes,” Benton noted.
He barely had time to pull on a clean pair of jeans before Nicole was already heading out again. Cussing under his breath, he threw his wet clothing onto the pile she had started, yanked on a hoodie, snatched up a towel, and barely remembered to grab some sneakers before following her out.
He found her at a picnic table set to the side of the R.Vs. Dorothy’s laptop was nestled within an arrangement of half a dozen open Tupperware containers. He recognized the spread by smell before he was close enough to see inside them. Nicole’s homemade breakfast feast was pretty familiar by now. Its presence made it all the more surprising that she had let him eat from the junk food vendors without complaint. Although, at the moment, he struggled to remember the last time he had eaten.
“I made Jalapeño Scramble,” she said without looking up from up from the screen.
Deciding that his best course of action was to ignore anyone that didn’t have the last name Rider, Benton straddled the bench seat beside Nicole. He had just enough time to bundle the saturated mass of her hip-length hair into the towel before his stomach began to grumble. The scent of his favorite breakfast was hard to deny, and she snatched up the whole container of scrambled eggs.
“You remembered the serrano sauce, right?”
“Of course. That’s why the smell alone can burn your eyeballs.”
The thick chili pepper sauce dripped from the mixture, giving enough heat to make him feel like he was eating fire. Perfect, he thought and hurriedly scoffed down two more mouthfuls. He stopped chewing when he noticed the screen.
“Are these your notes?”
“The binders were a little impractical to carry around,” she said. “Besides, you’d be surprised how hard it is to find accurate information on this kind of stuff.”
“No, I wouldn’t be.”
She nudged him with her elbow. May have done more if she wasn’t more interested in a strip of bacon.
“There has to be a lot of other people who need help, just like us, so I created a website. ParanormalLibrary.com.”
“And you didn’t tell me this because?”
Her fingers paused. “It didn’t come up
?”
“You put stuff about me on there, didn’t you?”
“All names and places have been changed to protect the innocent and the annoying,” she chirped as she made a final click. “There it is!”
Benton took another bite of eggs and leaned closer to read over her shoulder.
“Pontianak?” he read aloud.
Everyone gathered closer. His frigid skin delighted in their body heat even as their proximity made it crawl.
“They’re from Malaysia?” Sophia asked. “We’re in Alberta.”
“Banshees are Irish,” Dorothy noted absently as she scanned the page.
Nicole instantly slipped into her ‘museum guide’ voice. One that she had picked up while working at the Buffalo Jump’s gift shop and couldn’t help using every time there was a chance to spit out random knowledge. “Actually, a lot of the beings we’ve come into contact with so far have been Irish.”
“Perhaps they’re following something,” Daniel said.
Benton didn’t have to turn around to know that the Elder’s gaze was fixated on him.
“I don’t care why it’s here,” Wapun cut in. “What does it want?”
“Mostly,” Nicole dragged the word out, like extending it would distract people from the end of the sentence, “to kill people.”
“Subtle,” Benton grinned.
“That’s all it wants?” Hurit adjusted her round glasses as she peered at the screen.
“Okay, according to my research,” Nicole spared a moment to make sure that Benton didn’t comment on what repetition had made her catchphrase. He shoveled some more food into his mouth and continued, “Pontianaks are the ghosts of women who died during childbirth. Or they were murdered.”
“How are those two things alike?” Daniel asked.
“That’s just how these things go,” Nicole said. “Legends change over the years. You have to sift through a lot of possibilities to get to the core answers. Most of the stories agree that they’re dangerous to everyone. Although, some state that they have a preference for men or pregnant women. I guess that explains why she went straight for Mason but hesitated with me.” She fell silent for a moment before jumping in her seat. “Oh, and you.”
Benton used the end of his fork to nudge her fingers out of his face. “I thought we agreed it was because I’m a Banshee.”
“That’s kind of what I mean. Look, when she was killing me, she wasn’t all that into it. All of her attention was on you. I think you perplex her.”
“Yeah. Alive, dead, place your bets.”
“And also . . .” She waved a hand in his face again. “You know, the androgynous factor. If she’s one of the Pontianaks that like killing men specifically, you might have thrown her.”
“Oh, my God,” Benton groaned. “You didn’t even notice until I pointed it out.”
Like falling dominos, one Elder after another figured out what they were talking about. There were a few mumbled comments about how he could make a ‘pretty girl,’ given the changes, but none of them bothered to bring it up to him.
“I’m just saying,” Nicole continued. “She’s eager to figure you out. I know that look.”
“Awesome,” Benton mumble. Another person obsessed with me. That’s just great.
“I knew it!” Nicole almost squealed with victory. Tapping the screen, she continued. “She was the one luring us out. Pontianaks lure people away by imitating a baby’s cry. Oh . . .”
“That’s a comforting sound,” Benton said.
Everything about Nicole screamed that she was expecting an outburst. “They use a trick. The closer they are, the softer the crying.”
“So she was right near us last night? And you kept making us go further in.”
Nicole smiled weakly. “Kinda.”
There was a flood of words ready to burst out of Benton’s chest. But they all died when it clicked into place. “The moon.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Dorothy cut in. Her eyes kept flicking to her daughter, each glance making Nicole’s smile grow larger.
They’re going to have words later on, Benton thought.
“When we went out looking for the child, I lost track of time.”
“Completely tuned out,” Nicole supplied in what she thought was a helpful manner. “Sorry, you talk.”
“I sensed something. I think she hides in the moonlight. Is that in the legend?”
“No,” Nicole said. “But now that I’ve seen her up close, I agree that her skin would really help her camouflage into it.”
“You saw her up close?” Dorothy snapped. “When? How?”
“Can we get this out of the way first?” Nicole sweetened her voice. “Please?”
“You’re grounded until you can dig yourself out of this hole.”
“That sounds fair,” Nicole replied.
“Does it say how we get rid of it?” Daniel asked.
Nicole and Benton shared a glance before both turned towards the man. He let her take the lead.
“Get rid of it?”
“What do you think we were trying to do?” Daniel snapped.
“Kill it,” Benton and Nicole answered in unison.
Rowtag found his voice for the first time since they had gathered around the laptop. “Is that even possible?”
“Surprisingly, yeah,” Benton said.
“If we just push it off our land, we’re not solving the problem. Just passing it off onto someone else.”
“We have children here,” Wapun said.
Benton snorted. “And reproduction is something only local people can do.”
“Again, I really want to get into what your issue is with kids, but right now, I’ve got to focus on this,” Nicole told him in a flood of words. Shifting back to the group, she continued, “He has a point. We know what we’re up against, so it’s our responsibility to deal with it.”
“You want to risk the lives of your family and friends for the sake of strangers?” Daniel asked.
“So, people only have worth if you know them personally?” Benton shot back. “And I’m the jerk.”
Wapun placed a hand on Daniel’s arm, carefully pulling him back slightly. Neither he nor Benton had noticed that they had been squaring off.
“Learn to respect for your elders,” Daniel said.
“Banshee,” he reminded with a smirk. “We’re so far removed that I could eat you, and it wouldn’t even be considered cannibalism.”
“Okay, I have a rule that once cannibalism is brought up in a conversation, we should move the topic along,” Nicole said.
Wapun was quick to command the attention of all present. “Then let’s consider all of our options before setting ourselves to a particular path. Nicole, what are a Pontianaks’ weaknesses?”
Unsure, she looked to Benton first. Whatever she was looking for, she found it quick enough and returned to her ‘museum guide’ persona.
“By legend, they like to hide in banana trees during the day. They say if you tie one end of a red string to the tree and secure the other to the end of a bed, anyone who sleeps on the bed will be able to control the Pontianak.”
Benton blinked at her. “That’s incredibly unhelpful.”
“But we know what tree she likes,” she protested.
“Yeah, it’s still a hard no.”
“Fine. Just know that was the easiest option,” she snipped. “They’re supposedly blind. Huh, I can change that to true now.”
Rowtag’s wrinkled brow furrowed as he watched Nicole type. “Who knows that to be true, exactly?”
Both Benton and Nicole lifted a hand.
“Right,” he mumbled, still clearly not convinced.
“She sniffs around,” Benton said. “I’m pretty sure she tastes the air like a snake. At least she did around me.”
“And it also might be a contributing factor of why she didn’t straight out attack me. There were a lot of smells in the corpse nest. She might not have been able to pinpoint me until I moved.”<
br />
Sophia tugged on her pink hair. Too stressed to just twirl it, huh?
“There’s an awful lot of maybe’s in that reasoning.”
What absolutes do you think we’ll find? Since Nicole had only agreed to ignore him mouthing off to Daniel, Benton instead decided to say, “Personally, I have more of a problem with the term ‘corpse nest’.”
It worked. Nicole’s competitive nature came out before Sophia would push her point, sparing them all a painful conversation about how this wasn’t an exact science.
“What would you call it?” Nicole challenged.
“Carrion cloister.”
“What is with you and alliteration?” Shaking her head, she turned back to her notes and continued to read. “Um, backward feet to trick people tracking her. Ah, here. If a nail is plunged into the hole at the nape of their neck, they’ll revert back to a beautiful woman and good wife. However, if the nail is removed, the Pontianak will instantly return to its ghostly form.”
“What do you think ‘good wife’ means?” Benton asked.
Daniel growled. “Do you think that’s important right now?”
“Duh,” he shot back. “If we’re going to try and turn her into one, we should have some idea of what it means.”
“This does seem like one of those ‘be careful what you wish for’ scenarios,” Nicole agreed absently, scrolling through her notes again.
“What kind of nail do we need?” Rowtag asked.
Nicole sighed in bitter defeat. “I could never find a source that gave specifics.”
Hurit adjusted her glasses again. By this point, she was practically bowed over Nicole and still hadn’t had any luck reading the screen.
“Does it say how we’re supposed to incapacitate her long enough to drive the nail in?”
“No,” Nicole said. She suddenly perked up. “But we have Benton’s screams. They seem to affect her on a molecular level.”
Daniel scoffed and straightened, rubbing his forehead as if to stave off an impending headache.
“Explain to me how you came to that conclusion.”
“She gets stretchy,” Nicole said.
There was a long pause.
“Explain with more words,” Dorothy prodded.