Witch Wood: The Harvesting Series Book 4

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Witch Wood: The Harvesting Series Book 4 Page 6

by Karsak, Melanie


  “I don’t even have any shoes on,” Brianna sobbed. “No phone, no purse, no shoes. Nothing. Bri, Dad got up. Did you see that? He got up?”

  “I saw,” Brian replied, his forehead furrowing.

  “What does it mean? Zoey hit him hard enough to knock him out. But he got up. What does it mean?”

  “I don’t know,” Brian answered somberly.

  “Amelia? Do you…do you know anything?” Brianna asked. “You know, the way you know stuff sometimes.”

  Everyone turned and looked at me.

  “They’re infected. It’s like something is eating up the goodness—the light—inside them.”

  Zoey stared at me with her big blue eyes. I could read the question therein: And what about the other thing that happened?

  “I don’t know, Zo,” I whispered, answering her unvoiced question.

  She nodded but didn’t ask me anything else. Instead, she reached across and took my hand, squeezing it reassuringly. It felt so comforting to feel her energy close to mine. I exhaled deeply.

  A moment later, my cell buzzed. I looked down to see a message from Logan. How had he gotten my number? We are in the cafeteria but trapped. I can see you. Come to service entrance?

  “Logan,” I said then relayed his message.

  Zoey drove her van across the parking lot toward the back of the school where the loading platform and dumpster were nestled in the narrow alley. Moving slowly, we all got out and headed up the back stairs.

  I sent Logan a text. Here.

  We waited a few minutes, but there was no reply.

  “He’s not answering.”

  “Bri, they’re right. Let’s go. If Amelia can take us to Witch Wood—“ Brianna began, but Brian waved his hand to cut her off.

  “Shush,” Brian said, straining to listen. “I hear something.”

  Zoey pulled out the handgun. She nodded to Brian who grabbed for the door, but it was locked.

  “We’ll try the front,” Brian whispered.

  “They said they were trapped. There must be someone sick inside,” Zoey protested.

  “Well, we can’t just leave them in there,” Brian retorted.

  I frowned then texted Logan again. We’re here. Where are you?

  From inside we heard a terrible clatter followed by the sound of a girl screaming.

  “Was that Jenna?” Brianna whispered, aghast.

  “Let’s go,” Brian said then we headed to the front door. There, we found the corner door, which the janitor always left open on the weekends while he was working, open just a crack.

  We entered quietly. The main entrance of the school had a large, open foyer where couches and chairs dating back to at least the seventies were placed along with dusty potted plants and silk trees. The white tile floor was glaringly clean. All the lights were off. The place was exceedingly quiet. Trailing away from the foyer were two long hallways. They were empty. The main office on the other side of the building was dark, the door closed.

  “This way,” Brian said. “Let’s go to the cafeteria.”

  “You mean go toward the scream?” Zoey whispered. “That’s how people in horror movies die.”

  “We aren’t in a horror movie. And our friends are in trouble.”

  “Your friends,” Zoey grumbled under her breath.

  “My locker is just there,” Brianna whispered, pointing. “I have shoes inside. Please, can we stop real quick?”

  Brian nodded, and we headed down the hallway following behind him.

  “Did you see their dad?” Zoey whispered to me. “I hammered him hard…like deep backfield hard,” Zoey said. “He got up like nothing was wrong.”

  “On TV they said the virus was making people go crazy, turning them into schizoid cannibals. My mom…Mrs. Sommers’ body was lying in our backyard. It was bloody. Mom had blood on her.”

  “What the hell kind of virus is this?” Zoey said, shaking her head.

  “I don’t know.” But I did know. I could see how it was changing people’s very life force. Their energy was disrupted, polluted.

  Down the hallway from us, Brianna opened her locker quietly, gently pulling up the metal lock. Noiselessly, she slipped on her gym shoes and a coat.

  I paused as we passed the nurse’s office. Inside, I saw heaps of bandages and blood on the floor. The desk chair was flipped over, and all the items on the desk had been shoved to the floor.

  From the other end of the building, we heard a crash and another scream.

  “We need to get out of here,” Zoey whispered.

  I pulled out my phone again. It was almost out of battery, and there was no message.

  “Not yet,” Brian said. “Please, Zoe.”

  She sighed heavily, and we headed toward the cafeteria.

  My hands shook. Something was bad here.

  When we passed the athletic office, Brian motioned for us to stop. He opened the door slowly then slipped inside. A moment later, he came back carrying two baseball bats. He handed one to his sister.

  “There were only two,” he told me, frowning with regret.

  “I’ll be okay,” I reassured him. I looked down at my hands. The aura around them was vibrant, glowing so bright that I was surprised the others couldn’t see it. Magic lived in the world just parallel to us, operating on wavelengths unseen by most human beings, but felt by some of us. Those in tune with the otherworld felt magic, could conjure it, could change their world and lives just by getting on the right wavelength. If you felt the energy, you could harness it to do your will. Was that how my spell worked? Had I tapped into this force in a new way? My emotions were strong when Larry had appeared, but strong enough to make that energy materialize in this plane of existence in a corporeal way? Larry, who had never felt anything beyond the material realm, had been knocked off his feet by my spell. How? How had that happened?

  When we finally reached the cafeteria, we peeked into the back window and saw a terrible sight. Katie was infected, that was for sure, and so was Brad, another of Nate’s friends. They were clawing at the door of the utility closet. On the cafeteria floor lay what was left of Jenna. Her entire stomach had been ripped open, her arms and legs torn to pulpy, bloody shreds. She stared, vacant-eyed, across the cafeteria. Sam, her best friend, was busy gnawing her insides.

  Brianna gasped, covering her mouth. Unable to control herself, she turned and vomited, the puke shooting through her fingers.

  We slid out of sight.

  “I don’t know,” Zoey told Brian. “There are three of them. I don’t know if I can shoot this thing. We can’t…I can’t just shoot them.”

  “But the others must be inside,” Brian said.

  “We don’t have to kill anyone,” I said. “Let’s just lure them out. Zoey, you and Brian are fast. Open the front doors then make a ton of noise, lure them out of there then use the alley to head back to the van. Brianna and I will get the others out of the closet as soon as they go off after you.”

  “Reasonable in an insane kind of way,” Zoey said.

  “You okay with that?” Brian asked his sister who was shaking and pale.

  She nodded.

  Brian looked at Zoey. “Come on.”

  I took Brianna gently by the arm, and we ducked into the ladies’ restroom just down the hallway from the cafeteria. I held the door open just the tiniest crack.

  Brianna turned the water on very gently and washed her face and mouth.

  We waited, and a moment later, we heard noise coming from the front of the school. I hoped it was enough to lure the others out without getting the attention of anyone else who happened to be lingering around.

  Brianna turned off the water then stood beside me, waiting.

  A moment later, we heard footsteps rushing down the hallway.

  First Brad, then Katie and Sam, moved past. I could just make out their movements.

  “Goddess, Mother, don’t let them see us. The door is sealed. They hear nothing. Smell nothing. See nothing. We aren’t here. The
door is closed. They see only the closed door.” I envisioned the ladies’ room door fully closed, that from the hallway they could not see anything as they passed. I envisioned it perfectly, then held my breath. A moment later, through the window on the opposite wall, I saw that all three of them had exited the building. When they turned the corner out of sight, I nodded to Brianna and pushed the door open.

  We raced quickly into the cafeteria, skirting around the massive pool of blood and heap of bloody remains that Jenna had become.

  “Oh, Jenna,” Brianna whispered.

  “Don’t look at it,” I told her.

  I hurried to the door then knocked gently. “Logan? Are you in there?”

  “Amelia?” Logan replied.

  “It’s clear.”

  I stepped back.

  The door opened and Logan, Nate, and Nate’s older sister, Madison, who I thought was away at college, emerged.

  Madison gasped when she saw what was left of Jenna.

  “Hurry,” I said then led them across the cafeteria. Outside, I heard tires squeal.

  We raced down the hall, moving fast. When we turned the corner, however, we found Mister Anderson, the janitor, standing between us and the door. His eyes were milky white, bloody saliva dripping from his chin.

  Madison shrieked and ducked behind her brother.

  Mister Anderson lunged at Logan who dodged. Brianna took the opportunity to dart around us and head out the door, Nate and Madison following behind her. I scanned around for anything to use as a weapon, but there was nothing.

  The van pulled up outside. I heard Zoey yell, “Come on!”

  “Here,” Logan said then, waving at Mister Anderson who had turned toward me. “No, over here,” he called again as he backed toward the lobby chairs.

  Mister Anderson followed after him, but Logan leapt over the chairs. He stopped and picked up one of the end tables.

  “Amelia, run,” he called to me.

  I turned and headed toward the door. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Logan hurl the table at Mister Anderson. It hit him in the chest and he fell.

  “Let’s go,” Logan said, and raced to the door.

  “Go! Go! Let’s go,” Zoey screamed.

  Brad, Katie, and Sam were closing in on the van.

  Logan and I jumped into the van, sliding the door shut behind us as Zoey gassed it, turning the van in the direction of Witch Wood.

  Chapter 10

  “Take us to the country club,” Nate said as Zoey sped away from the high school.

  “What?” Zoey retorted.

  “The. Country. Club,” Nate replied.

  “I’m not deaf,” Zoey told him. “And you’re welcome very much,” she added, turning the van in the direction of the country club.

  “Yeah, whatever, thanks,” Nate mumbled halfway under his breath.

  “Where are you going?” Logan asked me.

  “Witch Wood Estate. It’s a place outside of town. I take care of someone out there. It’s remote. Safe. You could come with us.”

  “Screw that,” Nate said. “My dad called me from the club. He and Mom were there with a bunch of other people. They had guns and food and had locked the place up. Don’t puss out, Logan. Come with me and Maddie.”

  “Did you see Jenna?” Madison was saying, staring out the window. “Did you see what they did to her? They ate her! They ate her!”

  “They’re sick,” Brian said.

  “Sick? What the hell kind of sick is that? That’s not sick, that’s crazy…like they lost their minds kind of crazy. Nate. Nate, we need to get to Mom and Dad. We’re gonna get killed out here,” Madison said, panic filling her voice.

  “Calm down, Maddie. We’re almost there,” he told her.

  Logan leaned forward and turned on the radio. There was a recorded message playing on every station. It listed the U.S. states under quarantine. Otherwise, nothing was playing.

  Nate was texting furiously.

  “Is Mom answering? Is Dad answering? Nate? What did Dad say to do?” Madison said, grabbing Nate’s arm.

  “Jesus, Maddie. I can’t type when you do that. Nothing. Nothing, they aren’t saying anything. Dad isn’t answering.”

  “What about your family?” I asked Logan. “Your sister?”

  “My sister and I…we’re fosters. Our foster parents just disappeared. I called Addison’s biological grandparents last night. They came and got her, said they’d take care of her. My foster mom and dad never came home.”

  “Maybe they’re at the club,” Nate told him. “Your dad is always there.”

  “Drunk,” Logan muttered under his breath.

  He then looked at me, those gold-colored eyes meeting mine again. “Witch Wood?”

  “It will be safe there.”

  Logan nodded, but didn’t say another word.

  Zoey turned her van down the road leading to the country club. The fence was lying in the middle of the drive, completely smashed down.

  “What is that?” Madison asked, leaning forward.

  “It looks like someone knocked the fence in, drove over it,” Zoey answered. “I don’t know, man. This doesn’t look good.” Zoey then slowly maneuvered her van over the broken fence.

  The parking lot of the swanky Brighton Country Club, just one of the many businesses in Brighton owned by Nate’s dad, was full of cars: Lexus, Audi, Mercedes, BMW, and Cadillac. It was like a luxury car convention. The windows on the long building, which backed up to the golf course, were shuttered. Nothing moved outside.

  “Look,” Logan said, pointing.

  The shutter on the front door had been pried open. Broken glass littered the entryway sidewalk.

  “We need to get out of here,” Brian said.

  “Zoey, stop here,” Nate said.

  She put the van in park then turned and looked at me. She shook her head.

  “Come on, Logan, Maddie,” Nate said then reached over and opened the door.

  Wordlessly, Madison followed her brother. Logan, however, didn’t get out.

  “Don’t be a fag,” Nate told him. “Let’s go.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe Amelia has the better idea. If your parents aren’t answering…”

  Pissed, Nate turned with his sister and headed toward the building.

  “Okay, are we done with this now?” Zoey asked, looking back at Brian. “Shut the door,” she told him then put the van into drive.

  Zoey spun the van around the parking lot and headed back out when I set my hand on hers. It was wrong. I despised Nate, but it was wrong to leave them like that. Nate was stupid and an asshole, and Madison was freaking out, but we were leaving them to die. They just didn’t know it.

  “Zoe.”

  She slowed. “Dammit. Yeah, I know,” she said then stopped and put the van into reverse.

  “I hate Nate,” Brian said. “God, I hate him so much right now,” he said, and when the van stopped, he opened the door and grabbed his baseball bat.

  We all got out of the van and walked carefully toward the club. From inside, we heard the sound of breaking glass.

  “Bri?” Brianna whispered, her voice trembling.

  “Stay close to me,” he told her.

  We entered the posh building. Overhead, a massive crystal chandelier swayed in the breeze. It was dim inside save the light offered by the skylight in the foyer. There, sunlight shone down on the large water fountain. The water was still. On closer inspection, I noticed it was tinged with blood.

  Brian and Brianna held their baseball bats tight while Zoey gripped her revolver.

  “Which way?” Zoey whispered when we came to the main hallway.

  I stared down the passages. My instincts nagged at me, pulling me right.

  “Right,” I whispered then headed down the hall. I’d only been in the country club once for my mom’s Christmas dinner for work. One of the doctors had taken all the nurses who worked on his floor out for a nice meal. We walked down the hallway toward the restaurant. The walls were made of
heavy, highly polished oak. Photos of tournaments, soft-looking pennants, and oil paintings of fox hunts decorated the walls.

  In the distance, we heard a door slam followed by a scream. A second later, someone appeared in the hallway in front of us. The person, an older woman with white hair, limped into the hall. One of her high heels was missing. She wandered into the corridor then stopped, looking in the direction of the noise.

  Brianna started to back away but bumped against the wall, banging into the fire extinguisher. The extinguisher fell onto the floor with a thud.

  The woman turned and looked at us.

  She was infected. She moved toward us, limping in her one shoe.

  “This way,” Brian said then, pushing open a side door that led into the bar. We followed behind him. Once inside, he motioned to Logan and the two of them pushed a door in front of the table. The scene in the bar was a disaster. There were broken glasses and bottles lying all over the place. In the corner a body was slumped against the wall. Whoever he was, the man had been shot in the head.

  “Nate,” Logan whispered.

  There was no answer, but after a moment, we heard noise from behind the bar.

  Logan lifted a finger to his lips and crossed the room quickly, crawling up on a bar stool. He looked over.

  “Miss Beatrice?”

  A moment later, Miss Beatrice rose. She was gripping a large knife, her well-manicured hands squeezing the handle so hard her knuckles had turned white. There was a splatter of blood across her pretty face. Her long, blonde hair looked like it was matted with some sort of goo.

  “Logan?” she said then looked at the rest of us. “What are you all doing here?”

  “We came with Nate,” Zoey answered. “We got…separated.”

  Miss Beatrice nodded. “Allen and I were with his mom and dad. We got separated too. I don’t know what happened. We were locked in. Everything was okay and then it wasn’t. I was waiting for Allen to come back. You see anyone?”

  Not living. “A woman. Out there. She’s not well,” I said. And then, as if on cue, someone pushed on the door.

  “What happened there?” Zoey asked, pointing to the man in the corner.

 

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