“This is awful,” Gabe said, rubbing his hand down her spine and tucking her head under his chin for warmth. “We…”
“Sheeeeetttttt,” Emily barely got out her curse around the chatters of her teeth, but she said, “I’d say we’d make Hazel pay since we’d never have come down here without her, but…”
“This is definitely our fault,” Ingrid said, “in Hazel’s head. We’re idiots, etcetera. Let us never speak of it. Especially to Hazel.”
“When she asks us about our visit, we lie,” Emily said, laughing through the shaking of her body.
“We…” Gabe cursed, holding Ingrid too tight and then letting her go to turn his hat to the others. “I’m sorry.”
It wasn’t that he still didn’t think they should have gone into the water together, Ingrid knew that he did. She just also know he hadn’t changed his feelings about staying together, it was just that she and Emily were miserable. They were cold, they were wet, and all they’d found was a better chance at an exit.
Oh, and a body. A dead body floating in the same water that was clinging to their skin. Poor, stupid Abel with his fake accent and his water logged baguette.
Ingrid was shivering too hard to speak. This was the coldest of the hells, that part of the hells that was so cold it was torture. She and Emily had linked arms, and Ingrid could feel her friend's shivers almost echoing her own.
But…Ingrid ground her teeth to stop the chatter and said around her clenched jaw, “Gabe, my pretty, apologize one more time.”
“You’re wet,” he said.
“One. More. Time,” Ingrid said. “Let’s get the others, get moving, and find a way out. So we can eat, bathe, sleep, and eat some more. I am starving. I want something hot enough to burn all the way down.”
“Mmmm,” Emily said. The two of them were plastered together, shivering in unison and stumbling after Gabe.
“I’m going to slap the first a-hole who fights us. Come or don’t. We’re out,” Ingrid vowed.
“I’m the angry mean one,” Emily replied. She tripped a little and the two of them almost went down. Gabe stopped, turning back, but they tried to shrug it off. Ingrid was sure even Emily could see how tense Gabe was getting.
Did cops have cop-senses? And if so, what was he thinking? He never explained much of his thought process about cases, but every time they’d mucked into one of his cases, he’d figured out the killer on his own. What was his training pointing out? How much danger were they in? It wasn’t like he had his gun and the authority of being sheriff. In Paris, he was just another victim.
“This is a trap for someone,” Gabe said, “Nothing else makes sense. Probably Abel, but why involve the rest of us?”
“Y-y-y-yeah,” Emily said.
She must be too cold to realize Ingrid would point this out later, when they were safe. Proof-positive that Em had special abilities. Ingrid was too cold to point it out then though. Each step was becoming heavier and heavier.
“So,” Gabe said fervently, “we stay together. No horror movie splitting up. No leaving each other for someone else. We’re not going to be cannon fodder for someone’s…whatever this is.”
Ingrid tripped. She was pretty sure it was because her feet were numb, but she took down both herself and Em.
“I’m sorry,” she told Em. “I’m…”
She wanted to say cold, but Gabe was already running his fingers over her ankle. He must feel how cold they were. He must know her toes were numb. He slipped her shoe off and rubbed her feet between his hands.
“We stay together,” Gabe said. “We focus on getting out. At this point, Abel is dead and we’re lost and everything is off. Something is very wrong here still, I don’t think we’re out of danger.”
“Do you think that whoever is behind this intends us all to die down here?” Ingrid asked him, searching his face. She wanted to just lie with him and listen to him talk but not about these things, about chocolate and trips and random TV shows. She wanted to hear him tell her what he loved and what he wanted and…
“I think,” Emily said and then stopped. She took a moment and then said, “I feel that something is up. I feel that we have an impending something. I’m worried.”
“Scared even.” Ingrid said. It wasn’t a question. She knew her friend and she knew that tense look in her eyes. Gabe was scared. Ingrid was scared. Emily was scared—maybe more than either of Ingrid or Gabe because of those witch senses she didn’t want to admit to.
“Scared even,” Emily said simply. She and Ingrid communicated beyond that and Ingrid could see the confirmation of what she was thinking in Emily’s eyes. Yes, felt. Yes, with those witch senses.
Ingrid took Emily’s hand, linking the three of them and then said, “We’re going to get out of this.”
“We are,” Gabe said, but it wasn’t a statement. It was a promise, and Ingrid knew that they’d all do what they could to get themselves to safety and whomever else would come with them.
“What is this?” Fiona snarled, coming into the part of the tunnel where they were on the ground? “Nap time? We’ve been waiting for you! Lucie…” Her voice broke. “Gods, Lucie is missing. She kept insisting that there was another way out. She…I didn’t…”
Gabe squeezed Ingrid’s foot once and pulled both her and Emily to their feet before he turned to face the crowd of frightened faces. Ingrid was sure that he was thinking he should go after Lucie, so she spoke right into his back, not caring if the others heard.
“You remember our deal.” There was no give in her tone, and he stiffened before he nodded.
“Look,” Gabe said. “We found a path we’re going to follow. We’ll help whoever wants to come over. But, we’re wet. We’re cold. We’re pressing forward.”
“What about Lucie?” Fiona wailed. “She’s lost.”
“We’re all lost, idiot,” Emily said. “Lucie shouldn’t have gone off on her own.”
It was cold. But it was also true. Ingrid was having a hard time caring too much. They’d tell someone if they got out. Someone official. Then professionals who could find their way out again could find Lucie. If…she wasn’t the target after all of whatever this madness was. Lucie had been pretty panicked. Abel was a dead. But, either way, Ingrid needed out. She just needed out. And she’d like very much not to be murdered as well.
“You can stay here for your friend,” Gabe said, “Or you can come with us. That’s up to you. The three of us came back to see if any of you wanted to cross the water and follow the path we’ve found. There are signs of modern life. We don’t know how old they are.”
The people who had gathered around the three of them were grumbling.
“You’ve been thinking you’re the leader this whole time,’” the professor said. His voice was panicked and he was furious. “Well you’re not.”
“He’s not telling you what to do, jackhole,” Ingrid snapped. “He’s telling you what we’re doing. Do whatever the f—”
“You listen here, mister, “ Betty 2 said, digging her gnarled finger into the professor’s chest. “You haven’t done anything to get us out. You shut your mouth. No one has made you do one thing.”
The arguing broke out and was broken off by Gabe’s sharp whistle.
“Come or don’t. We’re leaving in 5 minutes.”
The arguing started again, but Betty approached. “We…”
She was a fiery old woman and you could see she wanted to chew someone up and spit them out. She stopped fighting herself and said, “We’d very much appreciate some help out.”
“We’ll help anyone who wants to come as much as we can,” Gabe said, using his sheriff’s voice. It was this deep, confident tone—it conveyed safety and made people want to trust him.
“Much obliged,” Bernard replied. He took his wife’s hand and all that snarl that Betty 2 had started this misadventure with seemed to slide away. They were in love, even after all this time. They were scared, but they were united. It was magical to see especially given how
everything that came out of Betty 2’s mouth was somehow accusatory.
It wasn’t until Gabe started towards the exit with Emily, Ingrid, Betty 2, and Bernard that backpacker and the others who hung back and clung together joined them. A murmuring moment later, the professor stepped closer. He stood at the edge of the circle of light, refusing to truly join the group while making it clear he’d be following with them. Ingrid’s desire to slap him increased with a sharp spike of irritation.
Fiona was the last to come closer. She shuffled up to the professor, sniffling, and looking over her shoulder for her friend.
“Lucie,” she called, but the only reply was an echo.
Ingrid clutched Emily’s hand. They were not going to be losing each other in this death trap. Not like Lucie and Fiona had. Ingrid wondered if Lucie was even alive. Ingrid’s desire to believe she was fought with the reality of Abel’s body and the feeling of danger breathing on her neck.
Going into the water, with this crew, and another missing person—it was madness. As cold as it might be, she wished that they hadn’t come back for the others. Refusing to leave them behind was why she loved Gabe. And, of course, Emily. Ingrid probably wouldn’t have left them behind either but that didn’t stop her from wishing that she could, from wishing that she could slap them just to feel better.
Gabe stopped by where the tunnels widened into a vast room and waited for everyone to pass and Ingrid and Emily to join him.
“We stay together,” he said again.
Ingrid took his hand in answer with her free hand. Emily and Ingrid had already joined hands.
“The more I think about it,” he started but was cut off with an earth-shattering scream.
He tightened his grip on Ingrid’s hand and dragged her and Emily towards the scream when every instinct Ingrid had was shouting to run away.
“Your boyfriend,” Emily growled, “needs a sharp slap to the back of the head.”
As they stumbled to a stop and took in the scene, Ingrid had to agree. It took her a moment to figure out what she was even seeing—in the dark, with the flashlights, it was more shades of gray. The handprint smear through the dark liquid told her it was blood and then the coppery scent hit her.
Gabe let go of her hand to step closer, examining what happened more closely. She took one step back, and then another.
“Ingrid,” he said, without turning as if he had this sense of her in association to him.
But she was too busy puking into the side of the tunnel to answer.
“Oh sh—” Emily started and then grabbed Ingrid’s hair, so it wouldn’t swing into the puke.
As she heaved, she could hear the professor gagging as well and Fiona muttering that puking was what Ingrid deserved for eating that crap out of her bag. It wasn’t that she didn’t hate herself for eating a napkin wrapped eclair and pickle, but she was going to punch Fiona in the throat so hard. Just as soon as Ingrid could move again.
She didn’t remember stumbling to her knees, but when she finally switched to dry heaving, she was bent over her legs. She wanted to scream, to just let loose this epic scream of frustration. But she didn’t. She took in a long slow breath, taking in the smell of her own vomit and that terrible smell of copper.
“Are you done?” Emily asked. Other than keeping her hair out of her vomit.
Ingrid nodded, making the light on her head bounce around.
“Why do you always puke over the bodies?”
“Is there a body?” Ingrid didn’t want to see it, she didn’t want to be involved in another investigation, in another country. She just wanted to go to sleep for days.
“Not here,” Emily said.
Ingrid heard the unsaid. Yes, there was a water-logged one not too far away and probably one with pretty long hair and perfect nails.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Fiona’s voice was a wail that made Ingrid want to lay down a solid slap.
“Shut up,” Emily snapped, and Ingrid realized that she wasn’t the only one who had reached the limit of what she could handle.
“There is no reason to believe that this is Lucie,” Gabe lied.
Ingrid looked over and watched him examine Fiona’s reaction. She was crying almost hysterically, her arms wrapped around herself, and Ingrid couldn’t help but feel a moment of empathy. How would she feel if it were Em? Friends like Emily weren’t replaceable.
Shiz, she thought, they needed to get out of here. Away from this madness. They needed to escape before they lost anyone else.
“Of course it’s Lucie,” Fiona screeched. “She just disappeared.”
And, of course, that blood was fresh.
Gabe didn’t give that the agreement it deserved. Ingrid knew he was trying to keep Fiona in control, but it wasn’t working. As stupid as she seemed, it turned out that Fiona was also smarter than she seemed.
“Abel disappeared down here too,” Emily said, lightly patting Fiona on the arm.
A patting movement which translated to please, can I slap you instead? Perhaps it was the dark of the tunnel, the lanterns only did so much—or maybe it was the bones they’d seen, but Emily wasn’t gentle on the best of days and the desire to slap Fiona seemed obvious to Ingrid.
“It’ll be ok, dearie,” Betty 2 said. She said it with the same tone that Gabe and Emily were using. Keep it together, they seemed to be saying, we need to get out of here and away from whoever or whatever was picking them off like flies.
“We stay together,” Gabe said. “We make our way to the exit. We’ll send in help.”
“What if she’s alive?” Fiona sniffled into her hands because no one was tucking her close. “She might need help right now.”
Ingrid could see that Gabe wanted to follow that trail of blood, but his eyes rested on her. Go, she told him, with her gaze. But he shook his head slightly and said again, “We stay together.”
His gaze was on her and Emily who stood over Ingrid. “We stay together, we move as fast as we can, and we send in help.”
Chapter 8
In typical fashion, Gabe easily assumed the lead and the rest of the mostly terrified, slightly numb group shuffled along behind him, getting closer to the pool of decomposition. Nobody was talking about the blood on the wall that obviously belonged to Lucie. And they hadn't bothered telling the rest of the group that they’d found Abel’s body on the last trek through Nasty Water River, as Emily had begun thinking of it. She also thought of it as Abel’s Watery Grave and her own possible Death Trap, but nobody needed to know her state of mind just now.
Betty 2 and Bernard didn't need another death on their minds. This swim was going to be tough enough without more terror. Speaking of swimming, Emily still hadn't figured out how they were going to stay together and help the couple across.
They stopped, grouping up near the edge of the pool and Gabe spoke up in his I'm the sheriff, this is an emergency, do what I say voice. And it worked. That voice always worked.
“Listen up. We've done this swim once. You'll be able to do it, too. As swims go, it's really not so bad. The water is calm, you won't have to fight a current, and if you stay near the edge, you can reach out and grab this concrete lip that shows up intermittently along this wall. If you think you’ll need help, stay close to the wall. Is anyone going to need help?”
Bernard spoke up and said, “I can’t swim.”
For the first time, Betty 2 wasn’t accusatory when she asked, “I’m not a strong enough swimmer to help him.”
Ingrid was the one who said, “Gabe can help Bernard.”
Gabe gave Ingrid his best “I got this” smile and continued his speech. Emily thought he’d make a good flight attendant, pointing to the exit doors and showing morons how to buckle a seatbelt. She continued to force levity into her thoughts because it was better than thinking about the possibility of Lucie floating in these waters. She could tell by the tense set of Gabe’s jaw and the worried strain around Ingrid’s eyes that they were probably thinking the same thing. Afte
r all, someone had dumped Abel in here. This place had to be connected somehow by the water given how far they’d walked since they lost Abel. Or, of course, they’d been wandering in circles.
Gabe waded into the water first with Bernard. Ingrid followed. Emily decided to bring up the rear, even though that’s where all the movie serial killers picked off their victims from. But if Gabe was helping Bernard, someone should hang back with Betty 2 and make sure she didn’t accidentally drown in this cesspool of death. After the last person made it into the water, Emily took one last look behind her. She felt like she was being watched and a shiver passed down her spine, prompting her to scramble into the water faster than she had intended. In her haste, she splashed the backpacker.
He reached back for her, “Hey, now. Don’t go drowning on me already. Not that I wouldn’t love to give those lips some CPR.”
Emily’s eyes narrowed and she splashed him in the face with the death water. He might not know what it was, but she did. “Don’t give me a reason to drown you right here, a-hole. I can be pretty dangerous even when I don’t intend to be.”
He looked confused but there must have been something in her voice because he rushed ahead, swimming past Betty 2, the professor, and Fiona. The backpacker was nearly up to Ingrid before he slowed down and then threw one last dirty look over his shoulder. Ugh, guys could be such dicks when their flirting didn’t land.
They moved slowly and Emily could hear soft murmurs ahead of her. Betty 2 and Bernard seemed to be doing fine, but Betty was definitely going slower than the rest of the group. When they finally made it to the fork in the death river, Ingrid, Gabe, Bernard, the backpacker and Fiona were out of sight. Emily could hear their voices so she knew they weren’t too far ahead, but it felt creepy not having them in her sight.
She knew Gabe would guard Ingrid with his life and wouldn’t hesitate to assassinate anyone that tried to hurt her. No, Emily’s biggest worry was getting Betty 2 caught up to the rest of the group without either of them getting murdered. So far, so good. Though Emily may never swim again.
Paris Murder: An Inept Witches Mystery Page 7