“Let me guess. After marrying a Daughter and knocking her up, right?”
Nate was surprised. “How did you know that?”
“Like, zoinks, Scoob. You’re not the only kid detective in town. Grab that notebook on the desk, will you?”
Nate obliged and started flipping through it as Bryce outlined his investigation and the disturbing trend he saw underneath it all. He capped it off with the exhumation of Drew Marks’s empty grave. Nate’s eyes bugged out of his skull at that one. “I guess we’ve been on the same side.”
Nate nodded. “What do we do next?”
“Abby.”
Nate’s posture stiffened.
Bryce went on, “We need to know who the father of her baby is.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever knocked her up is going to marry her, and then he’s going to disappear, and be one more empty grave.”
67
Shifting Tides
‘they fetched Nate’s bike and drove to Abby’s. She was confused by their sudden alliance, but she listened as they outlined what they had been doing. They asked Abby about the night of the carnival. She only had a few memories of the evening. The first was running through the woods, with the vague sense of something following her.
“The Woodsman?” Nate asked, using the name he had given to the presence he had felt by the old church. Bryce didn’t believe in that sort of thing, but they both seemed to.
“Maybe?”
Then Abby told them about the visions she had in the funhouse and then the memories of being by the sea, and of someone talking to her in a low, reasonable voice. She could not remember any words, or even if they had been in English.
“And we don’t know how this relates to the Crows,” Abby finished.
“I’m sorry, the what?” Bryce asked.
Abby explained, and Bryce did his best to keep a neutral expression. Monsters. Monsters that looked like people. A few months ago, he might have left right then. He would have assumed she and Nate shared some kind of mutual delusion. Now? The idea was insane, and maybe they weren’t seeing things quite right, but there was definitely something strange in Arkham. Maybe “monster” meant something else? Bryce filed it away. He would concentrate on the parts he knew were real: the dead and missing fathers, the link to the past, and the strange night of the carnival.
Next, it was Nate’s turn. He remembered being in the woods as well, and of someone very large following him. He remembered walking over beetles the size of golf balls. They’d had strange designs on their shells. When he’d researched them later, he hadn’t been able to find out what they were. He wasn’t sure they’d ever been described by science. Then he remembered being in water, but in a place that echoed strangely.
Bryce was the last to take up the thread, finally coming clean about what he had seen. After the carnival, they’d gone to Fisherman’s Lodge for more drinking. Then his next memories were awful. He remembered being wet and shivering, though it was too dark to see where. He had the sensation of something, a bear or a coyote maybe—
“The Woodsman,” Nate said.
“Sure why not. Or maybe Sasquatch or Slender Man.”
Nate narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything. Bryce regretted the comment but old habits died hard. He wished he’d never spoken up, because then he could have avoided the next memory, the one that really disturbed him. He told them of being on the shore, eating whatever he could find in the salt water. The only thing he left out was the dead seagull. Though the memory stopped before he ate it, he knew he had done it.
“The real question is,” Abby said, “what does any of this have to do with the missing fathers, the old church, your ancestors, and… and my baby?”
Bryce didn’t have an answer. Neither did Nate. Bryce knew then that the three of them were going to need to stay close together. They couldn’t trust anyone else.
68
mean girls
‘as the school year came to a close at Arkham Academy, three girls determined who was cool and who was not: Sindy, Ophelia, and Charity. Though Sindy was a year younger than both Ophelia and Charity, it didn’t seem to matter to anyone. If anything, they revered her. It was like Hester Thorndike had put something in the water.
Sindy had wanted all this from the beginning. She’d imagined Abby by her side, along with one other girl to round out a good power trio, but you couldn’t rule a school alongside The Raving Lunatic of Whorewich Hall. Abby had clung to Nate and they’d somehow found a way to drag Bryce down with them, too.
School had become a very different place. Sindy and her friends were now the ruling body of Arkham Academy, served by their three sycophantic creature-bodyguard-servants. They held court with Bryce’s former inner circle, and none of them seemed to mind that Sindy had replaced Bryce. Hunter Hanshaw smoked too much weed to do anything more than burn out; Ben Knowles didn’t care what was happening so long as there was a girl near his lap; Delilah wasn’t a Daughter and had no apparent interest in climbing the social ladder. Everyone just included Bryce when they made snide remarks about Abby and her trashy friend, Nate Baxter.
Sindy never had more power than she had at that time, and yet, she was trapped.
She entered the cafeteria with her entourage in tow. Charity and Ophelia flanked her, followed by their three servants. She could only see through Eleazar’s mask. The other two, Ophelia’s Finster and Charity’s Edsel, looked as human as anyone else. She often wondered what they looked like beneath the illusion. Her skin crawled just thinking about it.
Bryce and Nate were sitting in the furthest corner of the cafeteria again, huddled over their notebooks. They were probably talking about Abby’s pregnancy and Bryce’s missing fathers mystery. There were days Sindy wanted to solve the latter for them, and there were days when the thought of doing that turned her stomach.
All because of the Daughters of Arkham.
On the outside, Sindy’s face was a haughty mask. She was above the school, as beautiful and serene as she was cold. On the inside, she was struggling for breath, uncertain she wanted to rattle her cage.
She took her regular seat at the popular table. Delilah, Ben and Hunter were already there. Charity took out her phone and stared into it with pouted lips. She flipped her hair and then snapped a selfie. Sindy saw Delilah roll her eyes as she sipped her soda.
“I see your rotund friend let the boys off the leash for the day,” Charity said to the table, though she meant it for Sindy.
Sindy didn’t bother to look at her. “Did she? I hadn’t noticed.” She pushed food around on her plate.
“You know she’s not fat, Charity,” Delilah said. “That’s a baby inside her belly. She didn’t get that from eating carbs.”
“Oh, of course, I know that… But that doesn’t change her dress size. It’s a shame that she got fat like that. She used to be so pretty.” Charity glanced over at Delilah. “No offense, sweetie.”
Delilah was stone-faced. “Why would I take offense?”
Charity looked around, as if one of the other kids might pipe up with the obvious answer.
Ophelia rescued her. “Delilah, has Bryce Coffin been in contact with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, has he called you to ask you any questions. I’ve heard that he’s been harassing everyone, asking about their fathers. Just wondered if he’s been bothering you.”
Delilah grinned. “Bryce Coffin calling me would never be a bother… to me. But I imagine you might have some feelings. I mean, since your engagement didn’t work out and everything.”
Ophelia blushed. “He’s trash. The whole idea was a mistake.”
Charity patted her hand. “Of course it was, dear. Don’t you worry. You’re too good for him anyway. You’ll find someone even better.”
Sindy burst out laughing, then covered her mouth and turned it into a cough. The very idea that Ophelia could find someone “better” than even the fallen Bryce bordered on the absurd
. Delilah caught her eye and grinned again, clearly enjoying the discomfort she was sowing. The Cutters were a rich family, but for some reason they had never been invited to join the Daughters. Sindy made a mental note to check into that sometime.
“He’s sticking his nose into private family affairs and digging up painful histories. Someone needs to teach him a lesson about manners.” Ophelia folded her arms and glared in Sindy’s direction.
“Simmer down there, you might tear a cuticle,” Delilah smirked. “What do you think you’re going to do?”
Ophelia looked at Charity, then they both fixed their cold, viper eyes on Sindy.
“I don’t know,” Charity said. “What do you think we should do, Sindy?”
Sindy looked over at Bryce. She’d helped set him down the path he was on, and now Nate was going to suffer for it as well. Things were quickly spiraling out of her control.
Still, she sat up straight and flipped her raven hair. The corner of her mouth turned up in a wicked smile. “We’ll take care of Bryce Coffin.”
69
Medium Rare
‘the empty grave hadn’t left Abby’s mind for long since she had seen it in the wobbling beam of the flashlight. She thought now that Bryce’s hypothesis was right: the men must have been murdered. She didn’t know where their bodies had gone.
There were too many mysteries—the ghosts of the town green, for one. There had to be a connection there, though Nate said they’d been killed by a mob, not the Daughters. Abby had seen the ghosts, just as she had seen through the disguises of the Crows.
Then there was the powerful scent memory left behind by her grandmother at the Koon’s house… and of course, whatever had happened at the clinic.
Something connected everything together, Abby felt sure of it—she just didn’t know what it was. She felt like she was on the verge of figuring it out. All of her most important insights so far had come from somewhere inside of her, like something had been awakened by her pregnancy. If she could just trigger that again… she’d understand everything.
But how? She thought for a while. Pain, maybe…
No. Not pain. The pain always came after.
An idea struck her. She didn’t know if it would work, but she did know that it wasn’t a good idea to experiment on her own. She texted Nate and Bryce at the same time, so she would not lose her nerve. She asked Bryce to pick her up, and Nate agreed to bike over to Coffin Manor.
“So what’s this about?” Bryce asked as they drove to his house.
“We have to wait for Nate. I don’t think I can explain this twice.”
Nate arrived about twenty minutes later. He walked around the side of the main building, guiding his bike by the handlebars. Abby and Bryce were outside on the patio, where Abby was soaking her feet in the warm water of the hot tub. Nate scowled as he turned the corner but as soon as he saw Abby watching him, his face fell into a neutral expression.
“Gang’s all here,” Bryce said from his place on the side of the hot tub. He was lying on the rim, staring up at the stars.
“Come on up, Nate.”
Nate joined them, though Abby could see how uncomfortable he was. He sat cross-legged on one of the corners of the tub and did not put his feet in the water.
“Okay, so, what’s this big thing you had to tell us?” Bryce asked.
“You know how I can see the real faces of the monsters?”
“Yeah,” Nate said.
Bryce didn’t respond.
“Well, that plus seeing the ghosts on the green makes me think we need to take a different tactic.”
“What do you mean?” Nate asked.
“I’m trying to say that it’s pretty clear we’ve hit a dead end. Anyone who knows anything is with the Daughters of Arkham, and they’re not going to talk to us. So if the living are tapped out as a resource, then why not the dead?”
Nate blinked. “You’re serious?”
“You want to try to talk to ghosts?” Bryce said. “I’m going to repeat that again so you can hear it out loud and realize you’ve completely lost your mind. You want to try to talk to ghosts.”
Abby glared at him. “I’m telling you, I think I might be able to do something with this. Besides, it’s not like you two have anything new. Do you?”
Nate glanced at Bryce, who just shrugged and sat up.
“Fine. But please don’t make me stake you. Or whatever you do to possessed people.” He looked at Nate. “What exactly do you do to possessed people?”
“You run from them.”
70
Communion
‘under Abby’s direction, the boys filled a large, unused room in Coffin Manor with lit candles, then shut the lights off. The glow of the candles did not do much to beat back the shadows, and the room’s large window served only to provide the still reflection of a pond. They gathered around a table they had dragged inside.
“All right. What do we do now?” Bryce asked. “Get out the Ouija board?”
Abby settled into one of the chairs. “I have an idea, but I need both of you to be quiet. And hold hands.”
Bryce and Nate looked at each other again, sharing a can you believe this-type look, then they both sat down to do as Abby asked.
Abby wasn’t sure how she felt about the boys bonding like this, but at least they were sort of friends now. It helped soothe the pain of losing Sindy again. She reached into her pocket to pull out a tiny object wrapped in a handkerchief. She set it at the center of the table and unwrapped it.
It was the symbol at the heart of all of their mysteries, the ship’s wheel surrounded by serpentine coils. Abby had stolen her grandmother’s Daughters of Arkham pin. Nate and Bryce involuntarily recoiled at the sight of it.
Abby took their hands in hers and drew strength from them.
She focused on the pin, tracing the intertwined coils with her eyes, watching the light from the candles lick across its raised scales. The play of shadows made it appear as if the coils were moving, tightening and constricting around the wheel. She blinked… they were moving. The pin was alive. The heads of the snakes unwrapped from their undulating prison. She gripped her friends’ hands tight as the metallic serpent heads turned slowly to face her and blink.
The snakes lunged forward, sinking their fangs into her flesh. The spasm of pain was immediate—a blazing path down her belly, straight to the heart of her. She contracted; her groan turned into a low, keening wail as the fangs dug deeper into her body. More coils erupted from the pin and lashed around her. Abby repressed the urge to struggle. The pain would not be for nothing. She yielded to the serpents as they strangled and choked her and then dragged her forward.
She had the sense that she was watching herself from a distance, that she was not imagining it. Nate and Bryce were standing now, no longer holding hands with one another. They were next to her, trying to rouse her from the place she was locked in. Her eyes were fused shut and her face contorted. Abby felt like she was hovering over the table and looking at the three of them, frozen in that place.
The agony from the fangs slammed into her again, and she watched herself squirm in the chair. She allowed the white light of agony to caress her. It passed over her face—once, twice, and she could see shapes within the light. She willed herself to move toward it and found that she could.
The light expanded, and she could see for the first time that it was not a light. There was no source. It was a shimmering pane, at once a barrier and a portal. The images through it were diffuse, warped by the incandescent surface. She willed herself into it.
The agony increased. She wanted to recoil, to roll into a ball around the burning pain, to cradle herself and cry until it was over. She would not let herself. She would not give in. She knew there was something through this. Her grandmother’s pin had borne witness to decades of secrets and horrors. This was a tool that would help her. She willed herself ever deeper.
She heard herself crying out. She felt a tearing, fresh rips of white-hot a
gony boiling through her body, mind, and soul. Still she forced herself farther and farther in. The pane of shimmering light had expanded around her, stretching over whatever her body was in this twilight place. It pulled taut. In places, it had torn away. As more tears opened up, as the pain truly became unbearable, as her mind degenerated only into these blazing points, the last resistance stopped.
She ripped through—
And was somewhere else.
Abby was in the hallway of Coffin Manor, but it was not finished. The hallway where she stood had bare beams and walls that were little more than plastic sheeting blowing in a spectral wind. The bare wood should have been bright and yellow, but everything looked to be coated in a thin sheen of soot. When she touched it, her fingers came away gray, though there was no evidence that she had smudged much of anything.
She found her way out of the house as it had the same floorplan that it did in reality. As she got closer to the center of the house, to the places that had stood for a while, the sense of everything as brand new faded. The rooms were finished there; there were pictures on the walls; there was furniture on the floors. All of it was dyed the same, sooty gray. All of it looked dead.
She could see the center of Arkham. It looked rotten. She could only get vague impressions at this distance, but what she saw was a crumbling village where every other house looked ready to collapse.
Abby weighed her options. She was looking for ghosts. The cemetery seemed like the most natural place for something like that. Then again, the town green was a place she had actually seen ghosts… She looked back and forth, and tried not to be influenced by the fact that every tree looked like a skeletal hand clawing at a low sky. She put her hand over her belly, and felt her daughter moving.
Her daughter? When had she realized it was a girl? She was certain of it now. Was her daughter responsible for what was happening?
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