Outcasts

by Claire McFall

  “He was pulled under the water.” Susanna tried to make her voice matter-of-fact, but she cracked on the word ‘pulled’ and the rest came out as a garbled squeak.

  “Pulled under? By what?” James looked confused. “Are there… creatures in the water? Wraiths?”

  Susanna nodded again, her eyes filling with tears. She swiped quickly at the one that spilled free and slid down her cheek.

  Thankfully neither of them pushed the subject further. In fact, they didn’t speak at all, and when Susanna finally turned to look at them, to gauge their silence, she saw them conferring, communicating wordlessly.

  It was James who spoke.

  “So, you want us to stay here tomorrow – all day – inside the safe house?”

  Susanna jerked her head once.

  “And while we do that,” he said slowly, “what, exactly, will you be doing?”

  Susanna flicked her eyes from James to Joan and back again, trying to read their faces. The only thing she could see was pity in Joan’s eyes. That was what she had to appeal to.

  “You saw the wraith in the safe house the other day,” she began. “You saw how it reacted to the music.”

  “It calmed it,” Joan agreed.

  “I think… I’ve always believed that the wraiths were empty shells, that there was nothing left of the person that it used to be, but I think that the wraith recognised whatever you were singing. Or at the very least, it remembered the idea of music. It wanted to get closer to you, not to hurt you, just to be nearer to your voice.”

  “You think your friend Jack is still in there somewhere,” James said, cutting to the chase.

  Susanna took her time replying.

  “I don’t know that I think,” she said. “I hope.”

  “So you plan to… what?” James prodded. “Bring him back? How?”

  There was the problem.

  “I don’t know,” she had to admit. “I haven’t… well, I haven’t thought that far ahead. I just want to see if I can find him. If I can detect any kind of spark, any hint that he’s still in there. I promised him, you see. I promised him he’d make it, and I let him down.”

  “He means a lot to you?” James asked bluntly.

  “He does,” Susanna said. “He’s… special to me. We’ve been through so much together and, well, to say we’re friends really isn’t enough. There’s no one, in any world, who knows me like Jack. No one who cares about me like he does. And to think of him, trapped under the water, reduced to being one of those hate-filled things…” She sniffed, hard, determined not to cry again. “He was afraid of the water,” she admitted. “Now he’s stuck there.”

  James stood up. Ignoring Joan’s noise of surprise, he walked the length of the safe house and stood with his back to them, his hand thrust in his hair. Susanna could see his fingers twisting and tightening, but then he let go and spun to face them.

  “I feel sorry for you, I do,” he said, and her heart sank. She knew where he was heading even before he started shaking his head. “But what you’re asking… What if you don’t come back? What if something in the water gets you? You said there were wraiths under there, and you’d be diving right in with them!”

  Wraiths, and something more, though Susanna didn’t mention that.

  She’d never encountered it before, the thing that had attacked their boat, and she was hoping desperately that it only existed in the real wasteland, that she wouldn’t have to face it again.

  “If you don’t come back,” James went on, “what happens to us? You said we need you, that you’re our guide, so what do we do if something goes wrong? We’ll just, what? Sit here for ever? Risk going it alone and having to deal with those creatures?” The look he sent Susanna’s way held no small amount of sympathy, but it was also resolute. “I’m sorry, but I can’t risk it. For me, maybe I’d take that chance. But—” His eyes caught and held Joan’s. “I’ve already lost my daughter, I won’t lose my wife. Not again.”

  “James.” Joan stood up and went to him, throwing her arms around him and pressing her face into the width of his chest. He lowered his head to drop a kiss into her hair.

  “You’re right,” Susanna told him, realisation and disappointment bitter in her mouth. “You shouldn’t risk it.”

  She couldn’t die, so there was no chance she’d drown in the lake, but she could be held there. Trapped under the water. Unable to return to the souls in the safe house. And because she couldn’t die, it might go on indefinitely. She could spend an eternity, drowning and drowning and drowning. Feeling the viscous, oil-like water of the lake sneaking into her nose, her mouth, her lungs. The pain as wraiths bit and sliced and tore. Her bones threatening to snap as whatever thing had pulled Jack under with a long, thickly muscled tentacle wrapped around her and squeezed until she screamed.

  Susanna yanked in a breath to pull herself out of the picture that she could imagine with crystal clarity.

  Joan turned in James’s embrace so that she could see Susanna. Her expression sombre, she gazed at her, something unreadable moving behind her eyes.

  “Promise me,” Joan said.

  “What?” Susanna frowned, not understanding.

  “Promise me you’ll come back to us.”

  “Joan, sweetheart—” James murmured, but she shushed him.

  “You made a promise to your Jack, and I see what you’re doing to try and keep it. So promise me that you’ll come back for us, and we’ll wait.” She pulled out of James’s arms so that she could look him in the face. “She deserves a chance,” she said. “I would do it for you, I would do it for Dylan, and you would do it for both of us.”

  “It’s not the same,” James protested. “Joan, we could be trapped here. We can’t leave without her.”

  “If we’re trapped here, then we’re together. Always. That would be enough for me.”

  James pressed his lips together and Susanna watched, her heart pounding. She could feel the turning of the tide as James folded under his wife’s honesty. Under her love.

  He didn’t answer Joan; instead he lifted his gaze to Susanna and she felt his eyes fix hers with laser intensity.

  “Your word,” he demanded grimly.

  “I promise,” Susanna said. “I swear it. I’ll come back for you.”

  * * *

  It was strange, leaving the safe house alone. At first Susanna wasn’t sure she’d even be able to do it. She kept waiting for some unseen force to haul her back, but nothing did. Step after step, she continued on, until the wide expanse of the lake nestled in the basin of land before her. It looked calm from her vantage point, serene. The dark blue of the water barely rippled, the light covering of grey clouds reflected in its glassy surface.

  It was a lot more inviting than the last time she’d seen it, and Susanna cursed quietly, feeling anger stir in her stomach. She and Jack would have had no problem crossing this.

  But she knew her wrath could only be directed at herself – if she hadn’t talked Jack into going back, he would never have been exposed to the hell of the real wasteland.

  She could only hope she wasn’t too late.

  She jogged down the hill, her movements lithe and graceful, borne of long practice. Once she hit the pebbled beach, she cut across to the boathouse. It was a struggle to get the wooden double doors free, but she managed. Her fingers fumbled, clumsy with nerves and an urgency that told her she had to move faster. Perhaps that was the wasteland, telling her to get back to her souls.

  Well, the forces of the wasteland were going to have to wait. Susanna planned to stay out here until she’d exhausted everything she could think of – or until it got too close to dark. She’d sworn to Joan and James, whose worried, uncertain faces had watched her leave, that she’d be with them before the first wraith of the night wailed.

  Getting the boat out of the shed was easy enough: one good tug and the bottom slid free of the gravelly, muddy puddle it sat in, then it was just a case of manoeuvring it up the beach a little, then back down
towards the water.

  It slid into the coolness of the lake like a knife into butter.

  Susanna took one, two, three steps forwards and then launched herself up into the boat. It rocked, but she steadied herself and then picked up the oars.

  “I’m coming for you, Jack,” she said quietly as she started to row. “Just hang on, I’m coming.”

  Right into the centre; that was where she’d lost him and that was where she intended to begin her search. Of course, she had no way to anchor the boat, but when she reached roughly the right spot, she sent it into a gentle spin to halt its forward momentum and then pulled in the oars.

  She fixed her eyes on the water – was that something moving down there? A wraith? Or the other thing? Unlacing her boots, she yanked them off, pulling her socks off too. She baulked at ridding herself of her jeans. They’d weigh her down, make her less agile in the water, but they’d also be a barrier between her and anything else. She shuddered at the thought of a tentacle arm snaking round her, suckers attaching themselves to her thigh and reeling her in.

  She mentally shook herself. “OK, Susanna, time to go.”

  She’d done this plenty of times, thrown herself headfirst into the water, without a care for her own safety, to rescue a soul who’d fallen beneath. This should be no different. Except that it was. This was Jack.

  And it was different because he was a wraith now, and every instinct was telling her that it was too late, he was gone.

  Well, instinct had told her that she couldn’t travel to the real world and she had. Instinct had told her that she couldn’t walk away and leave souls stranded in a safe house, and she’d done that too.

  She was delaying, she knew, because she was afraid to fail.

  But every minute that she lingered in the boat, stalling, was a minute lost in the search for Jack.

  Taking a breath, Susanna plunged into the water.

  It was cold. That was both a shock and a relief. The lake in the real wasteland had burned. Another relief was that the water… felt like water. Gone was the thick, oily substance of before. Susanna held her breath but opened her eyes. The water was murky, heavy with silt and meandering bits of plant life – and darting figures that were quickly coming closer.

  A wraith coiled round her ankle, then another slid around her neck, weaving beneath her hair. Susanna forced herself not to react, not even when the wraith by her foot sunk its teeth into her shin. It was a sharp bite, but she doubted it had even broken the skin and was thankful she’d worn her jeans. They’d bite harder soon, though, she knew. They’d draw blood – and when that seeped into the water, it would throw them into a frenzy.

  Satisfied she’d made her presence felt, Susanna kicked and wriggled her way free, clawing her way to the surface. She gripped the side of the boat, gasping. After three quick breaths, she inhaled deeply and dived again. More wraiths had come, but they seemed confused. They were circling her, dashing forward then pulling back. Jerking left and right, as if they were scenting the water. Searching for something – but not finding it.

  Souls, Susanna realised. They were hunting for her soul. After all, what would a ferryman be doing here without one?

  Thankful that they hadn’t launched a full-on attack, Susanna took the opportunity to really look at the lake wraiths for the first time. They were almost exactly the same as the ones who flew through the wasteland’s night skies and loitered in its shadows, but these ones didn’t seem to be restricted in the same way. Only a midday sun in a cloudless sky could penetrate the depths of the water. There was no bright light to keep them pinned to the lakebed.

  There were other subtle differences, too. Ones that made it easier for the wraiths to navigate their watery purgatory. Rather than the wispy, ragged coats of the air-inhabiting wraiths, these ones were sleeker, more streamlined. Black fin-like curves ran down the length of their bodies, rippling as they hovered in place, almost if they were feeling at the water. Tasting it. Their eyes were the same, though, black and small and empty of all but the need to feed. The teeth – well, Susanna didn’t want to get too close to them, but she knew from the testing bite to her lower leg that they were there, and they were sharp.

  How was she going to do this? How could she draw Jack out? Susanna turned slowly in a circle, assessing the group that now surrounded her. She hunted for something to mark one as different, but they all looked and acted the same.

  Despair merged with the burning need to breathe, and Susanna shot for the surface once more. This time, she didn’t get the chance to regain her breath. She grabbed one quick, sharp inhale and then something under the water pulled at her jeans and tugged her downwards with surprising force. Driving down panic – she needed another breath already, could feel the compulsion in her lungs to draw in deep – she looked down to see three wraiths working in tandem, dragging her deeper with a strength she couldn’t fight.

  That wasn’t right – wraiths didn’t work as a team, they didn’t have enough capacity for thought for that – but it wasn’t the first time Susanna had witnessed it either. She remembered the way wraiths had ripped her from Michael and buried her beneath a huge snowdrift so that they could have unfettered access to the soul.

  Susanna kicked her leg and lashed out with her free foot, knocking one, then two away. The third hung on grimly, but a direct hit to its face meant that she was free again. Not hesitating, Susanna swam hard for the surface and this time was able to grab two breaths before the wraiths pulled her back beneath the water. Again, they were working together, attaching to the denim hems at her ankles, and to her midriff, teeth tearing at the fabric of her jumper, ripping her clothes to reveal the vulnerable flesh beneath. Susanna cried out as she felt those teeth sink in deep and slice through skin.

  This was it – exactly what James had been afraid would happen. The wraiths were going to overwhelm her and then she’d be trapped down here…

  She fought, but she couldn’t free herself from their grip and, just as she’d thought, now that her blood was mixing with the water more and more wraiths were appearing. Horror filled her, her mind supplying images of what was soon to come, but even now, the one thing she couldn’t be was sorry.

  Even if there had only ever been the smallest, smallest chance, she’d had to take it. She’d had to do everything she could to save Jack. She just wished—

  A wraith swam right at her face, fins slapping against her cheek and making her yank her head back and expel precious air in a flurry of bubbles. Susanna clamped her lips shut and braced for more pain, but the wraith didn’t latch on to her free arm or to the other side of her torso. Instead, it swam round and sank its teeth into the body of the wraith that was tearing up her side. Susanna watched, disbelieving, as it twisted its head from side to side, aggravating whatever wound it had caused until the wraith loosed its hold on Susanna’s flesh with a screech of anger.

  What was happening?

  Not understanding, Susanna went back to kick, kick, kicking, trying to free her feet so that she could get up to the surface – and into the damned boat. She wouldn’t have managed it – the wraiths who had a grip on her jeans were resistant to her every move – but the wraith who’d turned on its own kind harried and snapped at them until one let go, then two.

  The lead weights on her ankles suddenly gone, Susanna was able to shake the two remaining wraiths and swim furiously for the surface. She made it and reached at once for the boat, hauling herself up and in with one monumental effort. Utterly exhausted, she lay where she’d fallen, awkwardly splayed along the bottom of the boat, the cross supports digging painfully into her back. She barely noticed, too consumed with coughing and then dragging air, sweet, blessed air into her chest. Her legs ached from kicking and she was bleeding heavily, but she just didn’t have the energy to deal with it, to move.

  Her thoughts whirled, even as her body punished her with spasms of pain. What had happened down there? The wraith that had appeared, the one that had turned on its friends… There could on
ly be one reason for it to do that, surely? It seemed like it had been protecting her.

  Trying to save her.

  Susanna had lost many souls in the lake. But of all of those, Jack was the only one who would care enough to defend her. The only one that would come to her aid. She’d found him, she was sure of it.

  Now the only question was, how could she help him?

  Susanna lay there for several more minutes, her body simply refusing her orders to move, until she was able to lever herself up and peer over the side of the boat. The water was quiet again, the boat gently rocking. She knew, though, that the wraiths were still there. Just out of sight, waiting for her to return.

  Susanna wasn’t that stupid. She’d learned her lesson. But what was the next step?

  “Jack?” she called down into the water. “Jack?”

  No response.

  Holding on tight to the boat, Susanna leaned over and trailed her fingertips through the gently lapping waves. The water was cool and pleasant on her fingers—

  And then something bit her.

  “Ow!” Yanking back, Susanna stared at her hand. Three of her fingertips were bloodied, small puncture wounds in each pad where teeth had gnashed down. Her actions had roused the wraiths, and the boat bobbled as they swirled around her like sharks circling their prey.

  “Jack!” Susanna yelled. “Jack, it’s me.”

  If he was there still, and he heard her, he didn’t react. Nothing broke the surface. Susanna thought she might have heard a lone, mournful wail, different in pitch to the eerie noise that was coming from the rest of the gathered creatures, but she couldn’t be sure.

  What to do…

  Susanna had never, ever seen a wraith from the lake come above the surface, so she had to work on the assumption that Jack couldn’t come to her. Which really left only one option.

  It wasn’t her soaking-wet clothes that made Susanna shiver. She really did not want to go back down there. Into the dark, where she was so outnumbered and there was no air or light or—

  Splash!

  She threw herself overboard before she could talk herself out of it.