Chills & Thrills Paranormal Boxed Set

by Flynn, Connie

  He was breathless when he reached the cave's dark mouth, and none too pleased to notice that the light made the opening pulsate in such a way that it appeared to be waiting for him to enter its digestive tract. After another nip from his flask—which was getting low—he steeled himself to enter the cave.

  Just then, a gust of wind appeared. The flame inside the lantern sputtered and dimmed, then was gone. Rain drizzling on his head, Zach stood stock-still in complete darkness, trying to find the guts to even reach for his supply of matches. Just as he made his move, the gas jets came to life again. But Zach's gratitude was short-lived. A mere fraction of a second later he stumbled backward, a cry of revulsion coming to his lips.

  Sticky webs covered the yawning entrance, glistening evilly in the light. In the center waited a spider larger than his fist. Zach swallowed a second cry that lodged painfully in his throat as he backed into the boulder behind him. He jumped from the touch, convinced spiders were crawling all over him, already feeling their hairy legs on his skin.

  "Well, partner," a male voice drawled from behind. "Seems you got yourself in quite a fix."

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Zach whirled and saw Richard Cormier sitting arrogantly on top of the boulder, a wry smile of amusement on his lips. "You always were scared of spiders, Zach."

  The final puzzle piece fell into place. Frank wasn't the only one in Port Chatre with a sudden upturn in financial fortune. Why hadn't he made the connection before? "So you're Frank's accomplice?"

  "In a manner of speaking."

  Zach frowned and stared up at Cormier, who balanced on top of a slick rock as though he were ensconced in an easy chair, and again wished he'd brought a weapon on this trip.

  "Liz is inside. Maddie took her. Why don't you go after them, partner? It's what a man would do."

  Zach looked over his shoulder. The spider had crawled down the web, closer to the ground.

  "Then you never were much of a man. Scared of spiders, tsk, tsk, tsk."

  Zach barely registered Richard's jibe, so caught up was he in eyeing the small space between him and the dark, spotted monster. His hand flew to his back pocket.

  "That's it. A little more Smirnoff's and you can take on the world." Richard's syrupy drawl lingered in the air long after he'd stopped speaking. "Creepy things, spiders. Kind of make you want to piss your pants. But so small. You can wipe 'em out like this." Richard slapped the rock, causing Zach to recoil. "Go ahead, Zach. Take another drink. You'll find your guts in that bottle. You will. You know you will."

  Zach's hand lingered over his pocket, poised to drop and pull. Such a tiny movement, and some of these jitters would ease. Richard was right. Richard was right.

  "Hurry, Zach. Ankouer is waiting and he grows impatient."

  Richard was wrong! Was everyone on this island crazy but him? Zach abruptly dropped his hand and whirled to face the web. The spider dropped to the ground and scuttled forward. With a hissed intake of breath, Zach brought up his foot and slammed it down. When he lifted it, only a small, spotted blob remained.

  "I'm going in for Liz, Cormier," he said, still staring at his smashed opponent, thinking even as he spoke how truly easy it had been to kill it. "When we get back, I'll be coming for you."

  Richard's laughter split the air, joined an instant later by a clap of thunder. Zach turned his head and saw in the flash of ensuing lightning that Richard had disappeared. He expected a shock of surprise, but it didn't come, and he supposed the many unexplained events had made him virtually immune.

  Then he thought of Liz getting mixed up with this sleazeball just to protect her father. He'd put a stop to that right now. He'd go in there, drag her out by that short curly hair of hers and, if he had to, swim with her on his back all the way to Port Chatre.

  He turned to face the web, fighting off waves of terror and revulsion. Dozens of small spiders had shown up in place of the larger one. Funny how Richard's taunts shored up his nerve, how notably absent it now was as he faced these tiny foes.

  God, he hated spiders, hated them with a vengeance that stirred a fury he hadn't felt since the day he had identified Jed's tattered body. Filthy, crawling things! They didn't deserve to live!

  With rage as his guide, he took a long deep breath that did more to boost his courage than a liter of vodka, and swung the lantern vehemently at the web.

  * * *

  Maddie still wasn't answering as Liz crept, stoop shouldered, through the dripping smelly cavern. The flashlight beam was not far ahead, and it reflected off the damp walls and shallow pools of water, creating a hazy glow that allowed her to see. She kept it in her sight, clutching the doll so tightly her palm was getting sweaty. She did her best not to allow her gaze to take in the clusters of bones and occasional decomposing animal, but sometimes she simply couldn't help herself. The final resting place for Ankouer's fallen servants, she thought, recalling the raccoons dragging away their dead companion.

  At one point the tunnel curved and she lost the light. Small squeaks issued involuntarily from her throat, ricocheting off the walls until she jumped from her own sounds. Taking tiny steps, she rounded the curve an eternity later, and stepped straight into the path of a glaring mask.

  Another raccoon. Its pointed snout curled over its small sharp teeth, and it approached with a snarl. Without thinking, Liz stuck out the doll. The creature continued bearing down on her.

  What in the hell had she said before? Her mind refused to bring it up, and unintelligible sounds came from her mouth. What had she said? What?

  "Go away, beast!" she shouted, although it didn't come out that way . . . more as a series of whispers.

  Like the snake, the raccoon fell over. Lying supine and breathing heavily, it stared at her with small, dark eyes. Liz gaped at it, terrified to move, knowing she must.

  Beasts lay panting on the trail.

  The first line of the quatrain. Suddenly she realized the poem was a guidepost to let her know when she was taking the correct action. This realization allowed her to quickly hop over the raccoon, and with Maddie's flashlight as her beacon, she hurried down the tunnel with renewed courage.

  Soon the beam vanished, but she wasn't in total darkness. Light flashed on and off, sometimes nearly as bright as day, and sounds of thunder again reached her ears. She walked on haltingly, moving only during the bursts of light, knowing she was nearing the cavern.

  Then she heard Maddie screaming. "Leave it, Frank! Do not tempt Ankouer!"

  Liz sprinted forward, holding the red-eyed doll in front of her and dashed through the opening.

  "Frank, no!" Maddie cried, standing in front of the lake. Through the hole above, the storm-tossed sky spilled flashes of lightning, and raindrops struck the lake, causing ripples that were swallowed by dancing flames. As the fire sparked and ebbed, it sent out waves of icy air that told Liz she'd entered Ankouer's lair.

  Liz followed Maddie's distraught gaze and saw her father creeping onto a narrow ledge. Just beyond him sat the lifeless fire opal. Above him, a swirling black shape sporadically formed itself into a parody of man.

  "Papa!" she whimpered.

  Her father jerked his head around. The apparition paused. A pair of blazing eyes appeared and fixed her with a stare.

  "So, Guardian, prepare for your night of reckoning.

  A surge of overwhelming malice swept over her, dulling the shocking realization that Ankouer's spoken threat must herald his transformation into human flesh.

  * * *

  Wisps of web and fried spiders still clung to the lantern, but Zach refused to look at them.

  Would he make it through this stinking tunnel a second time, or would his resolve evaporate? Would he fail here as he'd failed with Carol, Rita, and Vera . . . with Zettie and Jeff . . . with Jed?

  Would he turn back and take the easy way?

  Liz would be okay. It wasn't as though she really was about to face the phantom. She'd come to meet her father, as Cormier's presence at the opening proved.


  Where had the man gone? Where, in fact, had he come from? Storm or not, Zach had a sixth sense that usually alerted him to another's presence.

  Which obviously hadn't come through this time.

  His journey through the slimy tunnel had given him time to examine his thoughts, but he remained as confused as ever. Images of Liz talking quietly with Richard on his veranda came to mind. What had they been talking about? Of all those present at Ellie's wake, Cormier had seemed the least bewildered by Liz's sudden reappearance from the dead.

  But no matter how he turned it over in his mind, Zach could not see Liz becoming involved with Richard. As a kid, the guy had tormented her unmercifully. Of course, there was the old saw about strange bedfellows, but the more likely guess was that Liz was only trying to protect Frank.

  Could he blame her? Wouldn't he have done anything to save his father? Jed? Hell, wouldn't he have gone to his own grave before seeing his brother die?

  At this moment he wasn't so sure.

  Zach had known how headstrong Jed was, yet he'd insisted on keeping his tryst before joining the manhunt. True, the lady had been delicious, but he would never have sacrificed his brother for her. And what about Liz? Maybe she was right, maybe he'd refused her plea to take her from Port Chatre the night of her grandmother's funeral. He'd only been a kid. Who could remember? The hell of it, though, was the ring of truth her accusation held. Didn't he feel like running now?

  And what were these things that scared him so bad? Filthy dripping water, rotting animal corpses and bleached bones, dead spiders and their sticky webs. Minor threats, none at all, in fact. So why did his gut keep screaming for him to turn back?

  As he took step after tentative step toward the waiting cavern, quaking like a first-grader at the shadows in the tunnel, he thought of Liz traveling through it alone. What had she used for light? How had she withstood the darkness? Her courage suddenly put him to shame, and for the first time he wondered if he deserved her.

  A sudden shiver reminded him he was wet and cold and he stopped for a moment. Despite the discomfort of standing in a hunched position, he pulled out his flask. He swallowed quickly, and the warmth eased his chill, absorbed some of the nagging doubts that plagued him. Or so he told himself as he cast a longing glance at the entrance to the tunnel.

  He started to recap the flask, then hesitated. One more sip, he told himself. One more sip and he'd go on.

  * * *

  "Izzy! Run, girl! Run now!"

  "What are you saying, Frank?" Maddie screamed, doubled over and clutching her knees. "Izzy is the one! Only she can save us!"

  "Fool!" hissed Ankouer, his humanlike shape rippling with rancor. "She is puny and untrained. You will die, all of you."

  But Liz had eyes and ears only for her father. Even as he continued crawling along that narrow ledge, he repeatedly grabbed for his chest. His warnings came out as choked rasps. Should he manage to get the opal, she doubted he'd make it down.

  With only one thought—*he needed her*—Liz raced across the cavern floor toward the slope leading to the ledge.

  Suddenly, a man appeared to block her path.

  "Richard!" Her whispered exclamation echoed back, and her mind spun. How had he gotten here?

  "Go back, Izzy. Leave the stone to Ankouer. In return, he'll spare your pa's life and let you all go."

  "The opal for my father?" she asked, looking up at the swirling shape above.

  "That's the deal," Richard said.

  Liz tilted her head, shivers of fear running through her body, but somehow she managed to calmly meet Richard's gaze. "Why should I believe you?"

  A self-satisfied typically Richard laugh came from his lips. "What choice do you have?"

  "This," she said. "Let me pass." Liz thrust out the black doll and put her other hand on the needle protruding from its heart.

  Ankouer gave out a choked cry, and Richard backed away, hands held up protectively. "There's more than me," he said. "That hunk of mud will keep you safe, but not for long."

  Then his form faded, and in the blink of Liz's eyes, he disappeared. Ankouer wailed in outrage, the dancing flames split into dozens more, bouncing over the water like sprites.

  And still her father warned her away.

  Her heart pounding like a congo drum, Liz resumed her ascent, leaping over small rocks that littered the path, ignoring Ankouer's angry sounds, Maddie's whimpers, her father's breathless warnings. His life was in danger, her life was in danger, and even the fate of the loathsome Maddie concerned her.

  But greater danger awaited the world if the opal fell in Ankouer's hands, and she recognized that Richard's warning was not a threat but a statement of fact.

  The figure above stared at her with dark, hot hate.

  Gripping the voodoo doll ever tighter, she marched toward the ledge, toward the opal, feeling a responding hate sizzle within her breast. Even as alarm bells rang in her head, she vowed to let that hatred guide her until she sent Ankouer straight back to hell.

  * * *

  Zach swallowed another nip of Smirnoff's as he pressed himself to the walls of the cave, and stealthily made his way toward the cavern. He heard Maddie screaming, heard Frank's hoarse cries, and heard another voice as grating as a fingernail upon a blackboard. He started to rush through the opening, then his cop's training asserted itself and he halted, recapping and storing the flask and furtively moving toward the cavern.

  He slipped soundlessly around the jagged edge of the entrance to assess the situation and saw something horrible and black hovering above a lake of fire. The sight staggered his mind, which pitched and reeled, shattering his precarious hold on reality. For a moment his vision went blank. He reached automatically for the flask.

  He had to do something. But what? This wasn't life as he understood it. This was all his childhood fears rolled into one. This was his nightmares come to life.

  His sight returned as quickly as it had left. He saw Maddie, bent over as if in pain, screeching toward someone clinging to a narrow ledge. Frank, he realized, grasping for the one solid fact to save his failing sanity.

  Then he saw Liz. Dear God, Liz, leaping like a mountain goat over rocks and small boulders to the tiny ledge that supported her father.

  Suddenly, a man appeared in Liz's path. She stopped short and waved a dark object about. Allain! Doc Allain was here. Drawing on the rationale that had guided his choices until now, Zach tried to rearrange these events into something that made sense. Another accomplice. No, that didn't fit. A rescue party had arrived. No, not that either. His vision blurred once more, but he could still hear and, Lord, he wished he couldn't.

  "Zacharie is below," the doctor said, chuckling darkly. "He is your defender, is it not so? Yet he trembles at the sight of me, the man who spanked his bottom when he first saw life."

  The fog cleared from Zach's eyes and he saw Liz look down at him. Her eyes widened and she seemed encouraged by his presence.

  "Take the offer, Izzy," the doctor went on in a softly seductive tone. "Your defender is a coward. He will not stand beside you."

  "Yes, yes, he will," Frank moaned, rubbing his chest as though it sorely ached.

  The doctor glanced up at Frank with scorn. "Ah, the fallen one. The failure. Tell Zacharie how it's done, Frank. Tell him of your impotence during your sweet Ellie's night of reckoning. Tell him how you failed her by loving another more than her."

  "No . . . non," Frank protested. "Do not listen, Zacharie. Pas du tout." Not at all. Then he launched into a volley of French that Zach understood only enough to know Liz needed him.

  Nothing made sense, and he didn't know how to fight it. Men slinking in dark alleys, rough bars filled with violent criminals, courtrooms with slick defense attorneys, boardrooms with arrogant executives, those he could handle. But what was here? Illusions? Phantoms? Ghosts? What's more, he wanted to yank off his hand for creeping toward his back pocket against his will.

  "See, Izzy, how the soothing liquid calls him. He lo
ves it more than you. You cannot count on him." The doctor's voice turned harsh. "Take Ankouer's offer, so you and these puny men will live to see another sunrise. Refuse and you all die."

  Liz's gaze lingered for an instant on the doctor's face, then slowly moved to scan the cavern. She stopped at Zach. He cringed beneath her scrutiny. Was the old doc right? Did he love his drink above all else? Had he really sunk so low?

  "I'm here, Liz." But even as he swore it, he felt the draw of the flask. "What has Doc offered?"

  "Our freedom," she said. "Our lives for the opal. But I've refused."

  The opal for their lives? A small price. It was just a rock. Why did she hesitate?

  "Give him the stone, Liz," he said, near to death from wanting another drink.

  She dipped her head. A nod? Had she nodded? Was she agreeing? As she turned back to Allain, his breath stopped in anticipation.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Liz gazed back at Zach, fearing he meant what he said, praying he didn't, and knowing deep in her heart that he still didn't understand the importance of the stone. Standing in the center of the cavern, beside the deep pool, she looked up at her father, at his ashen face and the way he clutched his chest and arm. She returned to Allain, taking in his sardonic expression, doubting he'd live up to the promise, but tempted, oh so tempted.

  The stone for their safety.

  A series of booms sounded inside the cavern, and her head spun in search of the source. Ankouer's evil eyes stared down from above, appearing to twinkle with mirth.

  "No!" With that refusal, Liz extended the arm holding the doll out to its full length.

  Why did Allain regard it so casually, as though it could not hurt him? The animals had simply curled up and let her pass. Then she remembered that Richard hadn't reacted until she'd reached for the needle.