Squawks clashed with the whispering. I shot a glance over my shoulder, then eased my boot onto the ledge. It was no wider than a young kid’s foot. I tucked the flashlight under my arm, vaulted up, and went onto my tiptoes. I teetered and flattened my hands on the white stones while clutching the flashlight harder. I stood still for a moment. No visions. I released the breath I’d been holding in and inched my way along the edge.
Light from the water casted twisted shadows along the wall.
The birds screeched louder. They’d almost found me. Something yanked on my ankle. I glanced down. My foot slipped, and my boot dropped a few inches into the icy depths.
“One of us.” The female’s voice sounded like she stood right behind me.
My vision blurred. The feeling of vapor-filled clouds surrounded me. The buzzing of the voices filled my ears.
The voice spoke louder. “Stay here with us.”
For a moment, the idea seemed tempting, like it would be a good idea to stay. I blinked and shook my head. I had to focus. Had to get away from the voices. I swayed and pushed against the cold stone walls. I was back on the ledge. The voices seemed quieter. Light pushed to the top of the water. Glowing white hand bones broke the surface. Then an arm. The light was coming from the bones. I prayed the entire body wouldn’t appear. Hand after hand surfaced and reached for me.
27
I had to move faster.
“Sam, stay.” The voice sounded like it came from a life-long smoker.
I reached the end of the ledge and jumped to the stairs. An entire skeleton crawled from the water. The hand clamped onto my ankle. I kicked and broke its fingers, freeing myself. I flew up the four steps and slammed into the door. Please be unlocked. I glanced back.
Birds flew across the lake; skeletons climbed from the water. I pushed on the door with everything I had and tumbled face-first into a new corridor. I scrambled to my feet and slammed the wooden door shut. My heart thudded inside my ribcage.
Ahead of me was another stinking tunnel.
I moved as fast as possible, but my thigh hurt and it was painful to walk. I kept my arms at my side to keep from bumping into the stone walls. If seeing the dead meant this, I wanted no part of the gift. This trip with Eric was enough to send me straight back to the hospital.
A different sound echoed around the stones: barking. But it was muffled and sounded almost like a recording.
“Chauncey! Where are you, boy?” Had he gotten trapped in the tunnels, or was I now having auditory visions too? “Keep barking, boy.”
Finding him would keep the last thin cord of my sanity from unraveling.
“Chauncey?” My voice sounded shrill and shaky as it echoed off the stones.
He barked, then whined. I hoped he wasn’t hurt. I’d gone about fifty feet when it hit me; Chauncey had stopped barking. There were no side tunnels. It was a straight shot. Nowhere for Chauncey to be trapped.
The stone tunnel continued on for another thirty feet or so before ending at a metal ladder attached to the stones. It led to a hatch in the ceiling.
I doubled back and searched for a hidden passageway that Chauncey could be in. I called and whistled for him, but he remained quiet. Leaving Chauncey ripped a hole in my heart, but I went back to the ladder. Once I found the others, we would come back and rescue him.
I left the light on and slipped it into my hoodie pocket, pulled on one of the bars to make sure the ladder was secure, then went up. Rusted metal flaked off in my hands. I kept climbing. At the top, I looped my left arm around the bar and pushed on the hatch with all my might. It groaned and squeaked, then gave way. I pushed up through the hole, took the flashlight from my pocket, and checked out the space. The beam highlighted dirty equipment and piles of wood.
Screeching filled the tunnel below me. I wiggled my way through the hatch. Wings flapped. I slammed the hatch shut and scrambled for something to weigh it down. I dragged a bucket filled to the top with wood scraps and nails over the hatch.
Where was I? The building’s roof was about two stories up and came together in a peak, where two cloudy windows allowed some light to filter through. Piles of wood filled the garage-sized workspace, and musty-scented sawdust covered the stone floor.
Something banged into the bottom of the hatch and the bucket rocked. I raced to the opposite side of the workshop. The door refused to open.
I was contemplating my options when an electric surge went through me. What now?
“Sam, are you in there?” Kyle’s voice came through the door, and the electric heat cut a path from my cheeks all the way to my toes.
“Yes. I’m here.” I gave the door a good smack. “Please open the door.”
He rattled the handle. “It’s stuck. The wood probably warped. Step back. I’m going to try to kick it in.”
I moved out of the way, making sure not to touch the stone walls. “I’m clear.”
The door shook and rattled as if something bigger than Kyle had hit it. Another shockwave rolled through the door. It couldn’t hold much longer.
Cold air swirled through the building. I wrapped my arms around myself.
It took seconds, minutes—I didn’t know how long. But the door finally banged open. I rushed forward. Kyle caught me around the waist. My heart danced. I glanced up at him. He leaned down.
Chauncey’s muffled bark cut through the silence and broke the moment.
Kyle let me go.
“I was stuck … tunnel … Randall dead … everyone missing … stones … Oh God, Chauncey.” I spewed the words out so fast, I was sure I seemed like a raving idiot.
Kyle held up his hand. “Hang on. You’re safe. I’ll get you out of here.”
“We need to get Chauncey.”
“You need to get off this island.” Kyle spoke with authority laced with anxiety. “A dark storm is coming. One you can’t be here for.”
“I have to find the others.”
Kyle looked up at the darkening sky. “You don’t understand. You need to get out of here before it gets dark. Before—” He was insistent.
Chauncey’s bark sounded far away. Maybe he wasn’t trapped in the tunnels, but in a different building.
“Chauncey sounds hurt. I need to find him.”
Kyle took my hand, and a jolt of pins and needles shot through my arm.
“Sam? Is that you? Are you out there?” Daniel called from the direction of the castle.
“I’m here,” I yelled back.
“We all need to go now, before it starts.” Kyle was stern and forceful.
“I can’t leave Chauncey. Brett made him my responsibility. I refuse to leave him. He can’t die because I didn’t go back for him.”
Kyle sighed and squeezed my hand. “We don’t have a lot of time. I’ll find him. I know the grounds better than anyone. Get your friends and meet me at the boathouse. We can get out of here in my boat.”
“I think Chauncey might be down in the tunnels.” My face had to show the pain I felt for leaving him down there. “There’s … stuff down there.” But he couldn’t see the birds and the bones and the soldiers.
“I’ll give the search ten minutes. Then we’re getting off this island.”
“Here, take this map.” I shoved Amelia’s drawing in his hand.
Kyle stared at the paper. “Where did you get this?”
Daniel and Marisol came into view, but they probably couldn’t see me yet. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll meet you at the boathouse in ten minutes. Thanks for getting Chauncey.”
Kyle took off in the opposite direction. So there was another exit from the tunnels. I prayed he would find Chauncey and hoped the dog wasn’t hurt too bad.
I sprinted to meet Daniel and Marisol. Lines framed Daniel’s eyes. He looked worried and older. Marisol gave me her I-can-see-into-your-soul stare.
Daniel pulled me into a hug. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”
I pushed away from him. “Have you seen Eric?”
“No. He was with you
the last time I saw him.” A look of pain flickered across Daniel’s face.
My chest burned but goose bumps covered my skin. “Eric was … was … dragged off.”
“Dragged off by what?”
“I don’t know. Something invisible.”
“No way. What about Brett? Have you seen him? The three of us split up and searched the grounds for a boat. We thought Brett went into the maze. We went into there and searched forever, but never found him. I finally spotted Marisol, and we figured a way out.”
“He’s dead.”
“Brett’s dead? How?” Daniel’s face crumbled, and he kept rubbing his mouth.
I pulled on his arm. “Something I couldn’t see took Eric, and there are tunnels beneath the island. I found Brett down there. He was already dead. We have to find Eric and get out of here.”
Daniel blinked and stared at his shoes.
Marisol gave a deep laugh that sounded anything but happy. “There’s no way off this island.”
“Kyle has a boat. He’s getting Chauncey. We need to meet him in less than ten minutes and bring the police here.”
Daniel refocused, turned, and held me by my shoulders. “Who the hell is Kyle?”
“He’s the landscaper. He was just here. He went to get Chauncey. Come on.” I shook off his hands.
I ran to the boathouse and skidded to a halt at the docks. Kyle’s boat wasn’t there. I flung open the door to the building, and the stench almost knocked me over.
Daniel snagged my arm. “Sam, stop.”
Kyle couldn’t have left without me. He’d said to meet him here. I yanked free of Daniel’s grip.
“Where is it?” I covered my nose with my sleeve and searched the building. No boats.
“He must be—” I ran back outside.
And saw a busted up old boat, that wouldn’t float anymore, sitting in a pile on the grass.
28
Marisol stared at me, squinting.
“The boat. Kyle’s boat.” My words sounded weak and pitiful. He couldn’t have, wouldn’t have, left.
Daniel closed the door on the smell. “Sam, honey, there’s nothing here. Just this trash heap that won’t get us anywhere.”
“But—” No. I’d seen his boat. It was real.
“I know where he is.” Marisol said in a sing-song voice. She scrunched her hands.
“Kyle?”
Marisol shook her head. “Eric.”
Daniel spun around to face her. “Eric? Where?”
“This way.” She ran toward the castle.
Daniel and I chased after her. I couldn’t believe Kyle would come here and then just leave. Hurt and fear grabbed my heart and twisted. What if he hadn’t left? What if whatever took Eric had gotten him?
The three of us burst into the command room.
“Eric? Are you here?” Daniel yelled.
“The dungeon. The spirits are telling me he’s in the dungeon.”
I tried to focus on hearing any spirits, but between the blood roaring in my ears and my heart pounding louder than some tribal drum, I couldn’t hear anything from the beyond.
Marisol led the way down the twisting stone stairs to Novak’s room of evil.
The dungeon was dark and empty.
Daniel kicked the charred door. “He’s not here.”
Marisol went into the darkness and banged around. Then torches flickered throughout the room.
“How did you know where the torches were?” Daniel’s voice hitched. He took my hand and led me into the dungeon.
Marisol leaned against the chair and twirled her hair around her index finger. “The spirits told me.”
“Your spirits also said Eric was here.” I didn’t like the crazy look that spread from Marisol’s eyes to her twisted smile.
“Did I?” The tone of her voice changed to a more formal style. “He is not here. And he is not coming back. He is in a different place. Forever.”
“What are you saying? Do you mean Eric’s dead?” Daniel grabbed Marisol by the arms, shaking her slightly.
“No, he can’t be dead,” I yelled, almost hysterical.
“Remove your hands, sir.” Her voice went deeper, edgier, meaner.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Marisol pulled free. “I require more energy.”
“What?” Daniel gave me a questioning look.
I shrugged. She’d always been a loon, but she seemed to have finally slipped over the cliff into madness.
Marisol tossed lots of things aside and to the floor. “Where are you hiding?”
“What are you talking about? We have to find Eric.” Daniel turned to leave.
“There you are.” Marisol tucked the blood board pieces under her arm and picked up one of the sticks I had knocked over the second day.
I rubbed the half-healed burn on my palm.
She brandished the stick like a sword. “I told you. He will not be coming back. Not now, not ever.” She charged Daniel and pushed the stick against his neck, forcing him to the chair. “Sit down.”
I was so shocked, I couldn’t move. “Marisol, why are you doing this?”
She pressed the stick against Daniel’s throat. “I told you. I require more energy.” She set the board on Daniel’s lap. He gurgled and tried to talk but couldn’t.
I glanced around for a weapon. “Marisol, stop. You’re hurting him.” Nothing was in reach. I would have to move for something, and she would notice.
She fitted the board pieces together and ran her free hand along the edge of the wood. She made a sharp noise and held up her cut palm. Her blood dripped into the grooves of the board.
“I command you. Mend. Form again.” She was breathless with excitement.
Her blood oozed along the board, and the grinding of wood against wood filled the dungeon.
Her face pixilated like a television screen fritzing between two channels, her features blending with the face of the man in the portrait hanging in the master bedroom.
Novak.
My chest tightened and burned. Pressure increased on my chest, making it hard to breathe. I staggered to the left and bumped into the table, rattling its chains. Ice and heat warred in my lungs. I clutched my throat and fought the dizzying sensation of falling. My vision tunneled until I only saw her face.
His face overlaid her features.
“Yes.” Marisol called out in a deep voice. “It is working.”
My knees buckled, and I dropped to the floor.
The stick clattered against the concrete.
The coldness of the stone cut through my jeans. I couldn’t stop shaking, but I couldn’t move. The clinging smell of spice cologne filled the air.
Marisol gagged and then made choking sounds. Daniel pushed her back, set the board on the floor, and stood. I stared up at him. He lifted Marisol by the hair and dragged her toward me.
I tried to stand, but my body refused to cooperate. My muscles were jelly, and a fire raged in my chest.
“Daniel?” My voice was gravelly and weak.
“Finally.” He adjusted himself. “That wretched bitch would have killed me if I had stayed inside her any longer. Always complaining,” Daniel said in a voice different from his own. This voice sounded like it belonged to a two-pack-a-day smoker.
Marisol coughed and a trickle of blood oozed from her lips.
“Silence.” Daniel smacked her hard across the face.
I needed to get up. I focused on the muscles in my legs and forced myself into a crouch.
Daniel picked Marisol up like she weighed nothing and dropped her on the table. He held her down with one hand while he strapped her into the four restraints.
I had to move. I forced myself up and staggered on wobbly legs. What was wrong with me?
“Where do you think you are going?” Daniel caught me around the waist and pulled me toward him.
I struggled and tried to push him away, but he was too strong. He wrapped his left hand around both of my wrists and dragged me to the far
corner. He yanked on chains attached to a hook in the ceiling. The chains ended in metal wrist restraints.
Oh, hell no. I brought my knee to his nuts and barely connected.
“Now, that was not very ladylike.” He forced my wrists into the restraints.
I struggled, pushed, and tried to break free, but the bindings were too strong. He tugged on the chains and then turned a crank on the wall. The chains tightened and stretched my arms straight above my head. He kept cranking, and I went up on my toes.
“A little too much perhaps.” He turned the crank the opposite way until my heels just touched the floor. “There. Perfect.”
The cologne I’d been catching whiffs of here and there slammed into my nose. He came closer to me, so close that when I looked in his eyes, I knew. I knew Daniel wasn’t the one doing this. Daniel wasn’t in control of his body.
Ghosts were one hundred percent real.
I swallowed past the fear closing my throat. “You’re Stephen Novak, aren’t you? You’ve taken over Daniel’s body.”
Daniel smiled a smile I would describe as serial-killer style, and the irony of the thought seared my already frayed nerves.
“Very good. I wondered how long it would take you to recognize me. You did not see me when I was in her.” He tipped his head at Marisol’s still body, then pushed a lock of my hair behind my ear. I flinched, and a look of hurt crossed Daniel’s face. “Do not move away from me.” His face darkened. “You liked to touch me. I remember it like it was yesterday.” He laughed in a way that was more of a cackle.
“Look, I don’t know what you mean. Please let me go, and I won’t tell anyone you’re still here.” I hated the pleading in my voice, but I had no idea how to negotiate with a dead serial killer possessing an innocent man’s body.
“Let you go? You may be a lot of things, Violet, but you are not stupid. I will never let you go.” He grabbed my chained wrists in his grip, leaned in, and squeezed. “Not after what you did to me. Do you not understand how long I have waited for this moment?” He leaned close and brought his lips to mine.
No. No. No.
I yanked back and twisted so his lips brushed my cheek.
The Shattered Seam (Seam Stalkers Book 1) Page 17