Chills & Thrills Paranormal Boxed Set

by Flynn, Connie

  "Zacharie," Frank said urgently. "You must listen good. Izzy got no hope without the fire stone. But you . . . her defender . . . you can take it to her."

  "It's no good," Zach said. "I've tried to go after her more than a dozen times. The funnel keeps throwing me back."

  "But not when you got the stone. You pass through easy."

  "How do you know, partner?" Zach asked. "How can you be sure?"

  "I been there," Frank answered in a choked voice, glancing briefly at Maddie.

  Unspoken words hung in the air. But Ellie died anyway, just like Maddie.

  Zach looked toward the spiral. Now and then it issued a hiss or a wail, but otherwise appeared completely indifferent to their presence. When he looked back at Frank, the man's eyes were drifting shut.

  "Frank," he implored, panicked.

  "The arm, it hurt bad." Frank put his hand over a protruding spot. Compound fracture, Zach thought. They'd have to immobilize it before they carried him out.

  With a start, Zach realized he was again thinking in terms of survival. His optimism was returning. A good sign. Surely a good sign.

  But even as this thought crossed his mind, Frank's eyes fluttered shut.

  "When two join as one, the soft overpower the strong," Frank murmured.

  "Beg your pardon."

  He received no answer. Frank had slipped away. Zach leaned close, checking to make sure he was breathing. Reassured, he stood up and took a final drag from his cigarette before tossing it away. Several feet away the opal waited for him to fetch it. The time for pure gut courage had arrived.

  Uncapping his flask, Zach lifted it to his lips and drank deeply.

  * * *

  So quiet, Liz thought. Too quiet. Surely Ankouer hadn't lured her here to simply ignore her. Where was he?

  "'Wash over me a love so pure,'" she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "'My heart . . . my heart is—'"

  Her memory choked.

  "'My heart . . " She couldn't do this. Not even through the first stanza and she'd already forgotten the words. She stood in a world of solid black, frozen, too terrified to move. She'd stepped through that wall full of fierce protectiveness. Now only electrifying terror remained, and it was so complete she couldn't find it within herself to take another step. She had no opal. She had no effigy with which to torment Ankouer. She had no defender by her side. The prayer was all she had for protection. And she couldn't remember the next line.

  A sob left her lips.

  The two keep the one at bay.

  Her mother's voice. Her mother's voice, talking to her inside her head, giving her the next line of the quatrain. And she'd heard the line recently, from somebody else's lips.

  Then it came back. In Harris's bar. He'd used those very words when he'd handed her the gris-gris. Suddenly Liz's panic wasn't quite so complete. She reached into her pocket for the chalcedony and the packet of rose dust. Guided only by her sense of touch, she ripped the cellophane with her teeth.

  With no clue how to use them, she relied on her instincts.

  Even as the paper tore, she felt the dust drifting down. Particles struck her arms, and soon she felt them on her ankles. The sweet smell of summer roses came to her nose.

  A mild shiver shook the dark landscape of Ankouer's soul.

  Encouraged, Liz overturned the packet and sprinkled dust in front of her. '"My heart . . .'" she said. Another shiver jarred the support beneath her feet.

  Two, she reminded herself. It took two. Again without a clue to its use, she rubbed the green stone with her thumb and repeated the only words of the prayer she could recall. The shudder escalated to a quake.

  "'My heart, my heart, my heart,' " she repeated fervently. Immediately, the remainder of the forgotten line came to her. "'My heart is cleansed of fear.'"

  She took a tentative step forward. "'Glow, glow, bright opal, free your fire. Illuminate the shadows. Pave my way.'"

  Although she had no fire stone, the total darkness lifted, permitting her to cross a black divide into a world of gray upon gray. Soundless, formless. Bleak and empty. And infinite, it seemed.

  "'Pave my way, pave my way, so darkness does not fall upon this earth.'" Cold air nipped at her bare arms and legs, at her face and neck, but at least she could see.

  She finished the stanza, finding that the stillness sapped her spirit. She'd primed herself for battle, for clashing and screaming, for out-and-out conflict. She felt aimless, weary, and so terribly, terribly sad. Her legs were growing weak, begging for rest.

  "'Power above, Power divine, I call to thee,'" she cried, desperate to shake off her lethargy. "'Shine your light upon my soul.'" Her weariness declined, and she rushed to spill out the next words. "'Wash over me a love so pure, my heart is cleansed of sorrow.'"

  Suddenly the fog came alive with darting, shrieking bats. Liz's spirits lifted. The challenge had arrived.

  "'Power above, Power divine—'"

  "Stop that babbling, child!" One of the bats landed at her feet. With a small squeal it took Maddie's shape and wagged a finger at her. "You cannot win."

  "Get out of my way," Liz ordered. "You're not real. Not real at all."

  "Oh, I real enough."

  Her animosity at Maddie rising, Liz turned her mind back to the prayer. "'I call to thee.'"

  Maddie put her hands over her ears. "Stop that, I say. Stop, stop, stop!"

  "'Wash over me—'"

  With an outraged cry, Maddie vanished.

  You think you're beyond my reach, Guardian? Do not believe such lies. My power has no limits.

  Liz felt a surge of hate so intense it was palpable. "I'm here to kill you, phantom," she shouted into the bleak gray land. "You'll die before I leave."

  One of us will die. His mocking laughter reverberated from every direction. The bats screeched with delight.

  A shiver ran through Liz's body—not from fear, but from cold, alerting her that the phantom's powers were growing again. What had the journal warned her of? Ankouer fed on hate. And yet she could hardly contain hers.

  "See, Izzy?" came Maddie's voice. "You cannot win."

  "'Wash over me,'" Liz responded, warring against the malice consuming her. "'Wash over me a love so . . .'"—the words were coming so slowly— "'a love so pure, my heart is cleansed—'"

  Cleansed? Look into your heart again, Guardian.

  Another bat flew up.

  "You're tired, Izzy. Give up."

  "Mama?"

  It was her. She stood in front of Liz, one hand extended as if to smooth her brow. And though Liz knew this was just another of Ankouer's messengers, she became so filled with love and joy she rushed forward to embrace her.

  No! bellowed Ankouer. No!

  Liz threw her arms around her mother's body, then gasped as they went straight through. An illusion, only an illusion. A wave of despair nearly brought Liz to her knees. It was no use, no use at all. Maddie was right. Ankouer was right. She couldn't win. Nor could she remember the next line.

  What did it matter anyway? What did it matter? What on earth had ever made her think she could defeat boundless evil just by reciting a stupid prayer?

  * * *

  Zach stood in front of Ankouer's spiraling form, listening, listening hard for Liz's voice. She needed him. He knew she needed him. But what weapons did he have to fight a monster? A pocket knife, a cigarette lighter, a nearly empty flask and a cryptic couplet. Not enough. But, of course he had enough, he reminded himself. He had more than Liz did.

  He had the opal, and it still waited for him to pick it up.

  "So, Defender, the woman or your bottle?"

  Zach spun around. "Richard!"

  "At your service. Nope, that's wrong. Actually I'm here to see your downfall. You don't have it in you, Zach. You know you don't. Give it up."

  "You bastard! You've sold your soul!"

  "Ankouer is the future. Your future. No turning away from him." Richard moved closer. His lips curved up in smug satisfaction. "And he has p
lans for you, Zach. Big plans."

  "I don't have time for this." As before, Richard's taunt strengthened Zach's determination and he gave a half-turn toward the opal.

  "Don't you want to know the rest?" Richard scurried to Zach's side, then gazed up at the slowly spinning cloud. "Soon as the master has defeated your lady, he'll come and take your body. Imagine this, Zach. Being host to Ankouer, destined to rule the world. Unlimited power . . No reason to ever run."

  Richard was so close now, his nose nearly touching Zach's, his breath heavy with foul promises. Foul, oh yes, but so enticing. Never running away. Never again. Ever.

  Not like that night so long ago, that night he'd tried so hard to block from memory. That night that was suddenly flooding back.

  He'd crept up the outer steps to the screened-in second-story galerie of the Deveraux cabin, planning to sweet-talk Izzy into joining him in the warm night so he could whisper sweet words and feel her grow hot for him again. He loved her, how he loved her, and in his arrogant youth he never doubted she'd one day be his wife.

  "You thought you had it all, didn't you, Fortier?"

  Zach's absorption in the memories was so thorough he barely registered Richard's question or the scathing words that followed. "Golden boy. Good looks, athletic prowess, rich parents and a disgustingly bright future. You had it all. Until that night."

  He'd sneaked toward the room where Izzy slept with her grandmother Catherine. Quietly he moved, trusting the thunder to muffle his steps, and he was already hardening with anticipation when he'd heard the hum. Not loud, at first, more like the buzz of a June bug. But it escalated until it bounced in his head and drowned out all other thoughts.

  Izzy shot straight up in her bed, and as he was about to call her name, she clapped her hands to her ears and sobbed, "Grandmere! Grandmere!"

  It all seemed to happen at once. Missus Catherine spoke to someone unseen, and Izzy clutched the worn sheet to her breasts. Screams filled the air, but not from the women. Higher pitched than the hum, and piercing, so piercing, they nearly split apart his eardrums. Fire exploded, sending out searing cold.

  "You just ran like hell." Richard used the battering tone of a cross-examiner. "Took off for home with your tail between your legs like a cur. Didn't you, Zach? Didn't you?"

  Zach buried his face in his hands. He'd just turned eighteen. Only eighteen. And still too vividly recalling the day he'd gone after the yellow orchid. Still too terrified to face such horror again. Still too young to face Ankouer.

  "Now you're thirty-nine. And you still want to run."

  It never occurred to Zach to wonder how Richard knew what he'd been thinking because the seductiveness of the next words had him lifting his head from his hands.

  "You'll never be afraid again. Think about it. No wrenching of your gut. No pounding of your heart. You'd be free of fear forever."

  No fear. Forever.

  "No fear, Zach. No fear at all. Never again will your innards quake and make you run away." Zach stared in fascination, growing hypnotized by Richard's voice.

  Then another voice, soft and hesitant, cut through his daze.

  "'Cleanse my heart . . '" It was Liz.

  Liz.

  Her trembling refrain seeped through the walls of the phantom's twisting shape. "'Cleanse . . . my heart of . . . God help me, I can't remember!"

  Zach stared at Ankouer, then back at Richard, who confidently awaited his answer. He hesitated and absently reached for his back pocket.

  Richard chuckled. "Go ahead. Steady the nerves. It's just what you need."

  Right, just the ticket to get him through. He slipped the flask from his pocket, unscrewed the cap, and lifted it to his lips. Just as he started to drink he saw his distorted image in the smooth silver. His hair was completely matted to his head, except for two tufts that stood up like horns. His skin looked thick and pasty, with irregular blond stubble on his chin and jaw. And his eyes . . .

  They weren't blue anymore, but a fiery, angry red, and they stared back at him with such malevolence his stomach rolled in revulsion.

  Him. That was him if he accepted Ankouer's unholy bargain. It was who he would become. The worst of him unleased upon the world. Without fear, without remorse. Never a moment of creepycrawlies, never a moment of hesitation, never that limb-paralyzing electric shiver. Invincible, invulnerable.

  "'Cleanse my heart of . .'" Liz's words came out on a desperate sob, "'. . . my heart—'"

  Zach spun and hurled the flask toward the lake. Vodka spilled as it soared, drenching Richard. Then the flask fell into the water, gurgling and sending up bubbles as it sank.

  "You fucking idiot!" Richard hissed, his image getting weak. "You've ruined everything!"

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Liz was on her knees, doubled over, so weighed down by her burden of despair she couldn't lift her head.

  She'd failed again, just as she had on her grandmother's night of reckoning. She was inadequate. She'd succumbed to fear, despair, and hate, and couldn't even remember a simple prayer. " 'Power above, Power divine, I call to—' " Call to what? You? Thou? Who was she calling?

  And why didn't they answer?

  Dead, all dead. Grandmere. Mama. Jed. Maddie. Dead. Soon she would be, too. And Papa. Maybe Zach. Once she was gone, Ankouer wouldn't let him live. She didn't even want to think of the larger picture, of the conqueror who would rise into the world and lead it into bloody warfare. She couldn't think of it.

  "'I c-call ... I call to . .'"

  The gray world was more desolate than a sunless desert, and it rolled like the waves of a cheerless arctic sea, broken only by the dark flitting bats that circled above.

  "Give up," she heard Maddie say.

  "Terminal," said a new voice. She lifted her eyes and saw Doc Allain's floating head.

  "Ankouer wins," they droned in unison.

  "'I call . . " She was tired, soul weary, without hope or faith to guide her through.

  She dropped her head to the floor that wasn't a floor, yet somehow supported her anyway, and rolled into a shivering ball. Her teeth chattered like gunshots in the deathly stillness. Her body shuddered violently. Control of it was beyond her now. She doubted she could get up, even if she'd wanted to.

  But she didn't want to. No, she didn't want to. She'd lost. She'd accept her fate. After all, it was destiny, wasn't it?

  Ankouer laughed triumphantly.

  * * *

  *Do not worry, servant. That was merely the defender's first test. Although the words came to Zach internally, Richard Cormier laughed. His fading body solidified.

  Ignoring le fantome's* message, and certain he was up to the task, Zach turned to get the opal, then stumbled back. Two bulging eyes glared down on him. Eight spindly legs stabbed the air above a thickly swollen sac the size of a hot-air balloon. A pair of open fangs the length of carving knives dripped with venom.

  Zach's mind rocked so violently he was certain his sanity would shatter. In a moment he'd surely collapse on the cavern's stony floor and begin babbling and snatching at flies. Another test? Oh yes. And this time he wouldn't pass.

  Just as his knees began to buckle as he'd predicted, he felt a gentle touch. A familiar voice said, "You can beat this, bro."

  He'd recognize that carefree tone anywhere. Waves of relief swept over him as he turned.

  Trendily dressed as usual, the man smiled at him with contagious confidence.

  "Jed?" he stammered, dividing his gaze between the specter of his brother and the dangling, monstrous spider.

  "Take this creature away, master!" Richard bellowed.

  "Yeah, man. I'm here. Isn't that what brothers are for?"

  What brothers were for? Yes, but . . . "I let you down, Jed, and you died because of it."

  His brother shook his head. "All events led to this night."

  "Away!" Richard roared again. "Take it away! Look how it empowers this sniveling cur! Forget Zach, master. He doesn't deserve your grace. Take me as your host. Take
me in his place."

  The shout drew Zach's attention, and fearful that Cormier's plea would be answered, he moved forward, aching to embrace his brother once again. His arms contacted warmth, a sense of peace, but nothing solid, nothing he could hang on to.

  His brother paled before his eyes as he spoke again. "You have a weapon in your pocket and another on the ground. Use them, bro. Use them. Defeat le fantome noir for all time." Then he vanished.

  "No! No!" Richard shrieked. "It's always Zach. It's always been Zach. When will my time come?"

  Zach lingered only an instant to inhale the freshness left in his brother's wake, then once again turned to face Richard, whose form was fading and twisting and rising to rejoin Ankouer, even as his raging voice faded into nothingness. The spider twitched, a rumble of satisfaction surging from its mouth.

  Zach hesitated only a second before scooping up the fallen opal. Then he pivoted to face the waiting spider. He had the opal now, but what was the weapon in his pocket? He had only one. His pen knife.

  He reached into his pocket for the knife, then flicked it open. What a goddamn flimsy defense. Still, if his brother said it would work, that was good enough for Zach. So, clutching the opal in one hand and wielding the tiny pen knife in the other, Zach moved to meet the spider.

  He hoped like hell that Jed hadn't been another of Ankouer's illusions.

  * * *

  A violent shudder rocked Liz back and forth. Bats shrieked with pain, and a chilling wail filled her ears. Ankouer had been wounded. Feeling a surge of hope she struggled to her knees.

  "'Power above, Power divine,'" she began anew. "'I call to . . . thee! Shine your light upon my soul. Wash over me a love so pure, my heart is cleansed . . . cleansed . . "

  "'My heart is cleansed . . '"

  Just then a strong bass voice joined hers, providing the forgotten words. "'My heart is cleansed of hate. Glow, glow, bright opal, free your fire. Illuminate the shadows. Pave my way.'"

  Zach chanted as loud as he could, seeking Liz in the gray mist, carrying his small and bloody pocket knife before him like a shield, and cradling the opal in his other hand. Who would think Ankouer could bleed? A creature made of nothing but formless protoplasm? But this sign of the phantom's mortality had given him hope. "'Pave my way, pave my way, so darkness shall not fall upon this earth.'"