Spirit Hunters #2

by Ellen Oh

  “Going where?” Leo asked as he grabbed a pastry.

  “Gorgon Grove,” Dayo replied. “Do you know how we can get there?”

  Leo nodded. “There’s a tour that leaves this afternoon, and one of the stops is the grove.”

  “Perfect,” Harper said. “Where do we get it?”

  “I’ll take you,” Leo said. “I haven’t done the tour in a while. It might be fun.”

  Harper made a face at Dayo, but Leo didn’t see it.

  Later that afternoon, the three of them walked over to the hotel and took the shuttle bus tour. The first stop was a botanical garden. Harper walked impatiently through the vivid and lush beauty of the garden, but Dayo and Leo seemed to enjoy the tour. Colorful birds flew in and out of the foliage.

  Finally, the tour took them to Gorgon Grove. The guide began his talk with a history of the Bennington family and the importance of the trees. When developers asked if they could chop down the grove because it was such an eyesore, Monty Bennington refused. The tour guide said it was because Bennington was a passionate environmentalist.

  Harper and Dayo looked at each other and simultaneously rolled their eyes. One woman standing next to them shuddered. “I think they are hideous and frightening,” she said loudly. “If it was me, I would have chopped them down years ago.”

  “Especially after those awful murders,” another woman chimed in. “What’s the real story about them anyway?”

  The tour guide ignored the question and began to lead them to the nearby lagoon, expounding on the different types of trees and flowers and other terribly boring stuff. Suddenly, Harper heard what sounded like the faint beat of drums. Without telling Dayo, Harper walked away from the tour, following the drums, until she reached one particularly large, grotesque tree. She recognized the tree from her previous nightmare vision. She stared at the blackened lightning scorches on the trunk, which seemed to grow in size until it became the only thing she could see. Then, someone grabbed her arm. As she whirled around, she realized that she was in Monty’s body.

  THE ISLAND OF MONSTERS

  April 28, 1912—Florida Keys

  She gasped, and it sounded like a man’s voice. She could hear his thoughts and feel his emotions. Harper was back in the dream, but not as an observer. She was now Montgomery Bennington. This had never happened to her before. She wondered if this was a sign of her growing abilities, but she would think about it later. Clearly, she was meant to learn something more from Bennington.

  “Sorry about that, old man. Didn’t mean to give you a fright.” Charles’s voice came as if from a distance. “I say, these are the most bizarre trees I’ve ever seen. No wonder you look so scared.” Charles let out a brash laugh.

  Monty shuddered. He wanted to slap a hand over his friend’s mouth and beg him to be quiet. Death lay beyond the trees—Monty was certain of that. It was ancient and evil. Waiting. Watching them.

  “I hate to be a pain, but the ladies are getting put out by your continued absence.”

  Monty tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a croak. His voice seemed hoarse, as if something was lodged in his throat. “We’d best return, then.”

  Without a backward glance, he hastened away. He hadn’t gone far when he turned to see that Charles was not behind him. He whirled around, calling Charles’s name sharply.

  “Be right there,” Charles said. “Nature calls.”

  A deep foreboding gripped him. “Charles, perhaps you should go back to the boat?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, I’ll only be a minute—you go on ahead.”

  Monty wanted to run back and pull his friend away, but the dread forced him toward the beach. He told himself not to be paranoid. It was just a bunch of trees. Nothing to be frightened about. By the time he reached the picnic blankets, he had convinced himself that he’d overreacted.

  “Where’s Charles?” one of the redheads asked. He could never remember their names.

  “Oh, he’ll be along shortly,” Monty said.

  “A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do,” Roland said.

  Penelope rolled her eyes as redheaded wonders number one and two giggled. Monty could feel the beginnings of a headache settle in behind his eyeballs.

  He went over to the picnic table and quickly made himself a sandwich and tore into it, as if the act of chewing would resolve his headache. He paid no attention to the idle chatter. Instead, he was tuned to the jungle behind him, waiting for the sound of Charles’s return. The dread was back, filling his stomach so that every mouthful dropped like lead pellets into a churning whirlpool. He threw down his sandwich.

  “Come on, Charles, where the heck are you?” he whispered to himself. But the dread told him that his friend would not be returning.

  “He’s taking an awfully long time,” Roland said as he rose to his feet to come and stand by Monty’s side. “Perhaps the long boat ride didn’t agree with him.”

  “Poor thing, do you think he’s sick out there?” Penelope asked.

  Someone giggled.

  “Maybe one of y’all should go hold a bucket for him,” one of the other girls said.

  “Would you be quiet?!” Monty yelled, causing an affronted silence. “He’s been too long. We should go after him.”

  Yet he found it difficult to move his feet. The dread had seeped down from his stomach and into his lower limbs. He feared his legs would shake and he would fall ignominiously in front of the others.

  Roland marched forward. “Never fear, I’ll go after him, old chap,” he said. “You stay here with the ladies.”

  Monty watched as Roland’s short portly shape disappeared into the jungle, the lush green plants and vines swallowing up his form, leaving no evidence of his passing behind. The faint sound of drumming filled Monty’s ears again.

  “Did you hear that?” he whispered to the women.

  Penelope and her friends exchanged significant looks before gazing back at him. “Hear what?” Penelope asked.

  “That drumming sound! There it goes again. Can’t you hear it now?”

  The women looked at each other.

  “We don’t hear anything but the ocean,” one of the redheads replied.

  Monty turned away, clutching at his hair. How could it be that they could not hear what was so clear in his head? First Charles, and now Roland. The jungle had taken his two best friends, and he was too afraid to do anything about it. He paced back and forth, beating his fist into his hand as he argued with himself. Minutes passed with agonizing slowness. And still they did not return.

  “Monty, if they don’t come back soon, they’re going to miss the eclipse,” Penelope said. “I think it’s starting.” She pointed to the horizon, where the sky was turning dark as night.

  Monty swore furiously under his breath.

  “Gabriel, bring me my Winchester!” Monty yelled to one of his two crewmen. Gabriel ran to the dinghy and returned with a long bundle. He untied it to reveal a Winchester Model 1903 semiautomatic rifle and a box of .22 Winchester Automatic cartridges.

  “Monty, what are you doing?” Penelope asked.

  Ignoring her, he loaded his rifle and began to walk away. “Gabriel, you come with me. Jonah, take the ladies back to the boat, and tell the captain to be ready to set sail.”

  “Monty, surely you’re overreacting!” Penelope yelled. “Don’t be silly. They are probably pulling a prank on you!”

  Monty turned briefly to face her and tried to smile but failed. “I dearly hope you’re right,” he said. Turning away, he headed toward the jungle. The heavy weight of the Winchester in his arms gave him false comfort, steadying him on his feet. Twisted limbs seemed to dip down ominously from their treetops as he brushed past a curtain of leafy vines. Whatever warmth had been on the beach seemed to be sucked out of the very air he breathed. Behind him, Gabriel’s sturdy steps sounded as they headed deeper into the island.

  This time, the jungle all around him was motionless, silent but for their own passage and the faint bea
ting of the drums. Not even the drone of a mosquito could be heard. It bothered him. Something was very off. He gazed down at the jungle floor, which had previously been teeming with insects. Now, none could be found.

  The terrible drumming filled his ears, louder than ever before. With every step, the drums sent his heart into rapid palpitations. He was finding it harder and harder to breathe. What was the madness that this island had infected him with? He began to loathe the island. Had it lured him in only to drive him mad? Above him, the sky grew progressively darker.

  “Mr. Bennington, are there natives on this island?” Gabriel asked.

  Monty reeled around in relief. “You hear them, too? Thank the Lord, I thought I was going mad!”

  Suddenly, the other man let out a loud gasp and crossed himself. “Madre de Dios!”

  Monty was afraid to turn around, transfixed by the growing horror on Gabriel’s face. The man stumbled, fell, and began to scream. Monty felt a presence pass right by him—a creature that blotted out the sky. But it was as if he was frozen in place, paralyzed in both mind and body. He could see it heading straight for Gabriel, but he couldn’t shout out a warning. His voice had disappeared. A blur of movement flung itself at his crewman, even as the man stared off in a different direction. The creature was pale. A large sinewy claw grasped the screaming man by his leg and began dragging him away.

  Gabriel was screaming, twisting and turning on the ground as he fought helplessly against the creature. “What is it? I can’t see it! I can’t see it! Help me! Please, help me! I don’t want to die!” His fingers clawed at the ground, trying to grab for anything to save himself. He flung out an entreating hand toward Monty, his eyes desperate with terror as he screamed one final time.

  All this imprinted into Monty’s memory.

  Gabriel’s cries faded away, muffled by the jungle as his body disappeared. Monty let out a shuddering breath. The paralysis that had gripped him passed, causing him to stagger and fall to the ground. He had to get away before it came back, but his legs betrayed him. Why couldn’t Gabriel see the creature that had attacked him? What had he been staring at that had scared him so badly? Monty turned his head slowly, toward the spot Gabriel had been facing. There, propped up against the Medusa-like trees, were Charles and Roland, sitting with their eyes closed, as if napping. Except that their guts had been torn out and their empty rib cages peered through their gored abdomens.

  A surge of vomit poured out of Monty as he lay retching in the tall grass. He began to crawl away, choking back hysterical sobs, willing his legs to stand.

  “For God’s sake, Monty, what on earth are you doing?”

  He looked up, his mind not comprehending the sight of the three women before him. They were holding lanterns, for the area had become almost completely dark.

  “We sent Jonah after you but can’t seem to find him. The eclipse has started. We must return immediately to the beach if we are to catch the totality,” Penelope said.

  Monty stared, horrified. Why were they there? They should have been safe on the boat. “You need to get out of here,” he said. “You need to run!”

  “Have you lost your mind?” Penelope asked. She knelt down and placed a cool hand on his forehead. “Monty, honestly, I think you must be ill or coming down with something.”

  “Run,” he whispered. “Run. Run.”

  One of the women began to scream. The other moaned Charles’s name over and over.

  “Don’t look!” Monty grabbed Penelope’s hand. “You don’t want to see it.”

  Fear and alarm creased Penelope’s beautiful face as she stared back at him. He could see her dawning realization that something was terribly wrong.

  At that moment, bloodcurdling screams exploded beside them.

  Penelope whimpered as she looked up. “What’s happening?”

  Her two redheaded friends were surrounded by several of the demon-like monsters. It was as if the monsters were toying with them, flinging them around like rag dolls, their bodies contorting wildly as they shrieked. The women fell to the ground with terrible thuds before being dragged away through the tall grass. Penelope leaped forward and tried to grab one of her friends’ hands. Monty shot to his feet, catching Penelope’s arm and covering her mouth. He could still glimpse the creatures as they dragged the redheads away.

  “Don’t make a sound. Run away, quietly,” he whispered.

  Releasing her, he pushed Penelope toward the safety of the beach when she suddenly screamed as if her heart had been torn out of her chest. Monty turned to see a creature heading back toward them. He shoved Penelope fiercely. “For God’s sake, woman, run for your life!”

  She took off in a crazy dash for safety, holding her lantern high. The very air around them seemed to try to stop their progress as vines tore at their clothes and roots tripped their feet. The jungle shifted as they ran. Finally, they reached soft sands and navigated around large, tangled pieces of driftwood. Penelope had pulled far ahead of him and was splashing in the water toward the boat, when Monty felt the creature catch up to him. He was thrown high in the air and dropped down again into the sand, face-first. He flung himself over and stared up into the face of a demon. Pale leatherlike skin pulled tight as the creature’s fleshy mouth gaped open, highlighting sharp fangs that gleamed in the light. But where its eyes should have been there were none, only two slits for nostrils.

  “Please don’t kill me! Dear God, don’t kill me!” Monty scrambled to his knees, cringing. Something primitive within him caused him to genuflect before it. He remained bowed for several long moments. When nothing happened, he peered up cautiously.

  The creature had stopped and was sniffing him all over with almost a quizzical expression. Above its head, Monty could see that the sun was totally eclipsed by the moon. But he could not appreciate it. He cringed as the monster placed a long claw upon his head. Suddenly, he was overwhelmed with images of an ancient time and a great golden temple—a vast land with millions of people worshipping statues that looked like the creature before him. Then the image of a chanting priest in a long white-and-gold robe, and a human sacrifice left in shackles before the altar.

  “You are ancient gods. You need sacrifices. I’ll bring them to you! I’ll be your priest. I’ll bring you many, many sacrifices, if only you will let me go!” Monty pleaded.

  Images flooded his mind again, blood and violence and an overwhelming hunger. Monty gripped his head in agony and screamed—his brain throbbing from the creature’s communications. He saw a holy woman in red, fighting the creatures with a staff and the crashing of cymbals. Their temples were destroyed, and the once-powerful gods vanished from the land of people. Only on this one island could they enter the human world, and not for long.

  Monty felt something akin to malevolent satisfaction in the thoughts of the creature before him. The power of the total eclipse gave them the chance to walk the earth again, and he was the first human to communicate with them—the first to offer them the old ways. The creature reached down, caressing Monty’s neck with the tip of one blackened claw. He felt a searing pain that faded into a dull throb. And then the creature disappeared, and Monty fell back into the sand.

  He could hear Penelope screaming his name from far away, but he didn’t know why. Drool dripped down his lips and chin, pooling in his sandy collar. He was aware of the sky lightening above him and the sun’s rays glistening over the blue of the water. He could hear each individual wave that crested nearby.

  Arms lifted him up, and he peered around to find the captain and his first mate at his side, leading him gently back to the dinghy.

  “What happened? Am I dreaming?” he asked.

  “No, Mr. Bennington. We don’t know what happened. You went flying through the air and took a bad fall before you fainted. That’s when we reached you,” the captain said as he and the first mate rowed the dinghy. “But you’re safe now.”

  On board the Endeavor, Monty sat in the cabin across from Penelope, both wrapped in blankets
as they sped back to civilization. He could hear the argument between Penelope and the captain. She’d refused to let them search for the others, screaming that they were all dead and ordering the captain to take them home.

  Monty could hear her weeping softly, but he had no desire to console her. He stared blindly into space, trying desperately to forget the images the creature had left in his brain.

  “Razu.” He muttered the strange name that the creature had imprinted in his brain. “Razu Island.” He touched a hand to his neck and felt the triangular raised mark of the creature on his skin. Suddenly he began to laugh. Penelope glared at him in disgust, but he couldn’t stop. Tears rolled down his face as he laughed with hysterical madness.

  They were safely away, heading home.

  But Monty knew that he would never be free.

  THE RAZU

  Sunday, October 29—Late afternoon

  She could hear someone calling her name, and then someone poked at her. She blinked and gradually focused on Dayo’s and Leo’s worried expressions.

  “Harper, you were standing there staring at nothing for such a long time,” Leo said. “You weren’t even blinking. How’s that even possible?”

  Dayo ignored him and put an arm around her friend. “You okay? You had another vision?”

  Harper nodded. She could feel her heart pounding like a frightened bird in her chest. The vision was too intense, too frightening. She started crying.

  “I know what the monsters are,” she said, her voice raspy with fear.

  “Monsters? What is she talking about?” Leo asked.

  “They’re called Razu,” she continued. “This is really bad. We have to get help.”

  Leo backed away. “We have to get back on the bus right now.”

  Harper could see the fear on her cousin’s face. She looked at Dayo and said, “I’ll tell you on the bus.”

  They sat in the rear of the bus. Leo stayed in the front, allowing Harper to tell Dayo everything she’d learned.

  When she was inside Monty’s memories, she saw what the monsters had shared with him—their history. They were once hailed as living gods. Four of them. They had more human forms back then, until the lust for human blood and flesh changed them into grotesque monsters. Demons. They enslaved an entire population, but then they became gluttonous and decimated all the humans. The Razu left their land, seeking new slaves, and would lay waste to whole tribes. Until one day they slaughtered an entire village and fell into a deep sleep in the forest that would become Gorgon Grove. A female shaman, who had been tracking them, found the Razu in a deep sleep. By herself, she could not kill them all, and she could not kill one without waking the others. So, she captured them and imprisoned them in the spiritual world. The location where this occurred was then separated from the coastland and launched into the sea as an island, so that no human could ever accidentally release the monsters. The Razu didn’t know how she captured them, but they’d been seeking revenge for centuries, desperate to finally escape and walk the earth once more.