Into Hell (The Road to Hell Series, Book 4)

by Brenda K. Davies

  Gage. Bailey.

  Their names ran on a loop in my mind, driving me faster. Turning a corner in the path, my fingers brushed against the trunk of a red maple tree. It was a tree I’d touched often while walking through here. Beneath my fingers, I felt the maple’s roots digging into the earth and the worms squirming through them. Before, I hadn’t known what it meant to experience this feeling, now the flow of life flooded every cell of my body.

  I skidded to a halt when the pathway ended at the neighborhood where I’d grown up. I gazed over the sagging, weather-worn houses. Years of focusing on survival had left little time for people to worry about the upkeep of their homes. Many had paint chipping off them, sagging porches, missing shutters, and overgrown yards, but there had always been warmth here and a sense of welcome. There were always people milling about, greeting others, heading out to fish or coming back for the day. They’d be gardening or swapping supplies at the exchange Mrs. Loud ran from her house.

  Now it felt like a graveyard, minus the headstones.

  I strained to hear anything, but the silence stretched onward until I wanted to scream. Every breath became increasingly difficult to take.

  Kobal gestured to those following us. They spread out through the trees with their weapons at the ready. Some knelt in the shadows as they focused their guns on the homes, others remained standing and ready to move into the town.

  Raphael landed beside us. “There’s nothing amid these homes,” he said. “I did not go far beyond, but I will if it becomes necessary.”

  “Not right now,” I said. “This is my neighborhood. We’ll search through here for an answer to what’s happened first.”

  “Where is everyone?” Erin asked from behind me.

  I was both desperate and terrified to learn the answer to that question.

  CHAPTER 47

  River

  “They could have all gone to the old army base,” Hawk suggested. “They wouldn’t be as close to the ocean, but if they felt it was better to be grouped closer together for protection, there are a lot of places on the base for them to stay.”

  “Or they could have been evacuated and Mac didn’t know about it,” Kobal said.

  I wanted them both to be right, but the pit in my stomach and the strangling sensation in my throat said they weren’t.

  I took Kobal’s hand and led him around the back of Mrs. Loud’s house and into the empty town.

  They were all supposed to be safe here! Please don’t let me stumble across the bodies of all those I’ve known and loved my whole life.

  Turning the corner of another house, I released Kobal’s hand and bolted up the steps of the home my friends Asante and Lisa shared. I practically ripped the screen door off its hinges when I threw it open. Grabbing the knob, I turned it and shoved open the door.

  “Asante! Lisa!” I shouted and then winced as my cry sounded louder than gunfire in the house. I hesitated for a second, but nothing jumped out to eat me and I heard no explosion of noise from outside.

  I hurried down the hall, past the pictures in their frames and the scrawled drawings that Bailey’s tiny hands had created, hanging on the walls. The faint hint of cooked apples lingered within, but there was no sign of life.

  “Gage! Bailey!” I called.

  Throwing open a couple of doors, I barely glanced into the empty bedroom and bathroom before continuing. I froze in my tracks when I came across a room with two twin beds. A worn teddy bear lying on the bed against the wall, and a pair of patched pants lying at the foot of the other bed caused the lump in my throat to grow.

  Bailey won’t sleep without that bear and Gage is always ripping or outgrowing his pants.

  The blue curtains fluttering in the breeze coming through the open window caused shadows to sway over the walls. My gaze ran over the furniture, but I didn’t see any dust on it or on the comb set out on the nightstand. It hadn’t been that long since they’d last been here.

  The board behind me creaked; Kobal stepped closer to gaze over my shoulder into the room. “Gage and Bailey lived here?” he asked.

  “Asante and Lisa brought them here after I was taken to the wall.” But they weren’t here now.

  Lisa’s parents’ house! They could be there! I spun back toward Kobal and tried to shove past him.

  “River, slow down,” he said and rested his hands on my shoulders.

  “I can’t. They have to be…. I have to find them. One way or another, I have to know what has happened to them!”

  “You will.” Drawing me against his chest, he hugged me close before releasing me. “But you must take it easy. There could be something we miss if you keep running from one place to another.”

  He was right, but I wanted to tear this entire town apart with my bare hands in search of them. Stepping back, he framed my cheeks with his hands and tilted my face up. He bent to give me the briefest kiss before clasping my hand to lead me back down the hall. I couldn’t bring myself to look too closely at Bailey’s drawings, I might burst into tears if I did.

  Raphael, Hawk, and Caim stood inside the front door, but the hundred or so other humans and demons remained outside and alert for any hint of danger.

  Stepping outside, I released Kobal’s hand before leading the way back through town at a brisk jog. My feet stumbled on the pavement when I came to an abrupt halt next to the community garden. On a normal day, any number of people would be within it, tending the vegetables and weeding. Lisa had often worked here to help keep everyone fed.

  Now, all I saw were the handful of tomatoes that had fallen onto the ground and remained there.

  “They would never let food rot in such a way,” I murmured to Kobal.

  I didn’t recall covering the distance between the garden and Lisa’s parents’ house, but I found my feet barely hitting the ground as I flew up their porch steps. I glanced at my own house and inwardly cringed before throwing open the door of the screened-in porch and hurrying across it to the other door.

  I moved so fast that I couldn’t get the inner door open before my shoulder bashed into it. Pain shot from my shoulder to my wrist as I fumbled with the knob. Kobal pulled me back and twisted the knob. He didn’t bother to tell me to slow down again; it would be useless. I was too out of control, I knew it, but I couldn’t reign myself in.

  The door swung open and I stepped into the shadowed interior of the house. My breath caught as the ever-present scent of lavender filled my nose. I stopped for a minute to take in the books lining the shelves, the TV pushed into the corner, and the scarred coffee table with its numerous water rings. I’d created a few of those rings myself.

  As I forced myself onward, Kobal walked beside me through the living room and into the kitchen.

  No one was there, but in my head, I could hear Lisa’s mother laughing as her father flipped pancakes for breakfast, and Lisa talking excitedly about whatever new thing she’d discovered in the garden.

  It played out so perfectly in my mind that for a second I saw their images before me, and their laughter replaced the sound of my blood pounding in my ears.

  Then, they faded away and I was left with only the chipped wood cabinets, faded yellow curtains, and cluttered counters. I’d sat on those counters and talked with Lisa more times than I could recall. It’s where she’d told me she had a crush on Asante, where she’d revealed she was in love with him, and where I’d first confessed one of my strange visions to someone else.

  I was left with the hollow certainty that this room would never again know the love and happiness that Lisa’s family exuded.

  How many times had I sat at that table before the gateway opened and eaten pancakes with my hands? How many times had I sat there before and after the war and felt safe in a way I never did in my own house?

  “Who lives here?” Kobal asked.

  “It’s Lisa’s parents’ home,” I whispered. I ran my fingers over the kitchen table as I walked over to the window in the back door. At one time, there had been a fence divid
ing this yard from the neighboring ones. The fence had been torn down years ago to make room for more farming area.

  “I spent so much time here as a kid that it became my second home, my only real home. It’s where I came the times my mother kicked me out, or was being especially vicious. Lisa’s parents took me in every time without question. They loved me. I… I loved them.”

  My hands fisted at my sides when I realized I was talking about them as if they were already dead. I struggled to maintain control of myself and blinked away the tears burning my eyes. Turning, I walked past Kobal and back through the living room. I spotted the others standing guard outside as I climbed the steps by the front door to the upstairs.

  Kobal stayed close behind me as I went through the rooms above. I knew the house was empty, but I still searched for any hint as to where everyone could have gone, seeking some sign that they were still alive.

  More memories assailed me when I entered Lisa’s bedroom. The purple walls hadn’t changed since we were kids. The dolls, bears, and knickknacks lining the shelves were exactly as they’d been before the war. When I was a child, I’d envied Lisa’s toys and secretly coveted some for myself. After the war, they’d become dust collectors that we both forgot about.

  She’d never taken them down, never changed them, and as far as I knew, she’d never played with them again. I suspected she’d kept them that way to preserve the memories of happier times, when she’d been innocent and the world had been kinder. Instead of being envious of them, I enjoyed coming here and seeing all the toys that reminded her of better times.

  From the window beside Lisa’s bed, I gazed at the house only a hundred feet away. Its sagging porch, broken siding, and missing shingles from the roof were in far worse repair than the other homes surrounding it. The front windows were missing their ledges, and one was also missing a pane of glass.

  I’d lived in that house for most of my life; just the sight of it caused cold dread to settle in the pit of my stomach. I rested my fingers against the window as I tried to bury the memories of all I’d endured in that pitiful structure.

  I was no longer the girl who had grown up there, or the woman taken from there months ago. Yet just thinking about my mother was enough to make me feel like a frightened child, an angry teen, and a resentful woman all over again.

  I had no choice but to return to that place.

  My shoulders slumped as I turned to face Kobal in the doorway. His eyes ran over the assortment of toys lining the shelves before settling on the pictures set out on the nightstand beside me. The pictures were of Lisa, her parents, and Asante’s school picture from the second grade, but she also had two of us.

  One of them was taken when we were seven. We had our arms entangled around each other’s necks as we grinned at the camera, revealing our missing front teeth. The other was from when we were sixteen. My jeans were torn, and Lisa’s shirt was unbuttoned at the collar as we sat on a rock near the canal. We were both leaning against each other and staring at our feet. I clearly recalled that we’d been kicking our feet back and forth while we talked in the hushed whispers of teenagers who had so many secrets they could never share with the world, and all of them were life and death. At the time, we hadn’t realized she’d been there, but Lisa’s mother had sketched the picture.

  Bending down, I stretched my hand under Lisa’s bed and grabbed the strap of the duffel bag I knew she kept stowed there. I pulled it out and rose. With one swipe of my arm, I shoved all the pictures into it. I would return to the other house later to gather things for my brothers, but I wasn’t leaving here without those pictures.

  I hefted the bag over my shoulder and turned back to Kobal.

  “I have to go next door,” I said. “I have to return to where I lived.”

  CHAPTER 48

  River

  I didn’t run next door, didn’t fly up the stairs with the same reckless abandon I had everywhere else. I couldn’t. I may not be the same person who had left here, I’d literally been through Hell and back, yet my feet felt weighted down by cement blocks as I trudged up the steps to a house that had never been a home for me.

  The faded gray front door sagged on its rusting hinges. The doorknob had busted off since I’d been here, leaving only the broken mechanical bits inside the door behind. Kobal slid his arm around my waist to pull me closer. My body tensed against his when he pushed in the mechanical bits and something clicked.

  Resting his hand on the door, Kobal swung it inward. I couldn’t stop myself from wincing at the creaking hinges. I’d faced Lucifer, but this small noise still made me shudder at the thought of waking my Mother. I would pay for it if I did.

  I shook my head to clear it of the haunting image of my mother coming at me as a clammy sweat coated my skin.

  Shadows played over the hallway from the sunlight filtering in behind us. It illuminated the peeling paint and patches of exposed and, in some places, broken plaster. The stale scent of mildew permeated the air. Cobwebs dangled from the ceiling, and a thick layer of dust coated the walls and hall table. The dirt caking the floor made it impossible to tell if it was hardwood or a rug there.

  A few leaves skittered down the hall when a breeze blew through the doorway. The other homes had appeared recently abandoned; this one looked as if no one had lived here in months. My mother had never been one for housekeeping; that had fallen to me and Gage. Then, she’d sold me to the government, Gage had gone to live with Lisa, and no one had helped her anymore.

  For many years, the drone of the TV greeted me whenever I opened this door. Now there was only more silence. Swallowing heavily, I set the duffel bag on the ground outside the door and stepped inside.

  I walked into the doorway of the living room where my mother had spent most of her life. Standing in the threshold, I gazed at the tufts of yellow stuffing poking through the worn brown fabric of my mother’s favorite armchair. Because the springs had busted through the seat years ago, she’d sat on two pillows while she endlessly watched the news reports on TV.

  I froze when I spotted the blonde head sitting in the chair where I’d often seen it. I couldn’t move as my knees locked and my feet planted into the ground. Blinking, I tried to figure out if I was hallucinating or if my mother actually sat there. The more I blinked, the more I realized she wasn’t fading away, or moving.

  My dead mother sat in that chair! She’d died and there had been no one to notice or care. Had her decomposing corpse been there for months?

  Kobal stepped forward. My hand shot out and I gripped his forearm, holding him back. If she’d died months ago, the place would smell worse than mildew, wouldn’t it? Maybe the stench of decay would have faded by now, but I believed there would at least be a hint of it on the air. All I smelled beneath the mildew was the faint hint of ocean air, body odor, and rotten food.

  If she’d died more recently, she wouldn’t stink yet.

  No movement came from the chair. If she’d been alive, she would have heard us open the door, or the creak of the floorboards as Caim, Raphael, Hawk, and Corson entered the house. She didn’t so much as flinch.

  ***

  Kobal

  I glanced between River and the chair as her fingers bit so deep into my flesh that her nails pierced my skin. Yet, she showed no sign of realizing she clung to me like a lifeline. She’d stared down all the creatures and angels of Hell with less terror than what shimmered in her eyes now.

  I’d long ago realized the only thing that made River vulnerable, the only thing she’d ever feared, was her mother—the woman who I believed to be sitting in the chair before us.

  I went to draw River closer, but her feet remained planted on the ground. Then, she lifted her chin, took a deep breath, and stepped further into the room. My upper lip curled as I took in the room. Unlike the other human homes I’d entered, with their pictures and small signs of family and love within them, this place was bleak.

  How anyone like River had managed to come from this place, I didn’t kn
ow, but I would ensure she was cherished for the rest of her days.

  The blank screen across from the woman reflected her pale face and unblinking eyes as River edged closer. Following River around the recliner, I spotted the plates of food on the floor. Most of the moldy food was unrecognizable, though an apple sat on the floor near the woman’s right foot.

  “Mother?” River whispered.

  There was no response, no sign of a reaction. My other hand fell on River’s waist as her nails dug deeper into my arm. Blood welled forth, but I didn’t try to ease her hold on me. “We should go,” I said gruffly, intending to carry her out of this place and away from that woman forever.

  “No. I have to… I have to know.”

  ***

  River

  Stepping next to the chair, I gazed down at the woman staring at the TV. Her fingers gripped the threadbare arms of the chair. The stringy blonde hair waving around her face emphasized the shadows lining her eyes. Her face was gaunter than I recalled and far paler, but she was otherwise unchanged.

  I still couldn’t tell if she was dead or alive as I tried to detect the smallest rise and fall of her chest. When I stretched trembling fingers out to touch her unlined cheek, her watery blue eyes darted to me. Unable to suppress a squeak, I jumped as I snatched my hand back. I would have stumbled away if Kobal hadn’t been there to prevent me from doing so.

  He rested his hand in the small of my back, his body turning protectively sideways. My heart hammered in my chest as my mother’s eyes burned into me. If hatred could take form and kill someone, she would have sliced me open from head to toe with that look.

  “The devil’s progeny has returned,” she grated in a voice that sounded as if it hadn’t been used in months.

  “Mother,” I whispered, unsure of what else to say or what to do. I couldn’t deny her words. Lucifer’s blood ran through me, and somehow she’d known this, or suspected it all along. Maybe her rotten mind had accidentally stumbled onto the belief she’d born the devil’s spawn and never let go of it.