The Other Side: A Novel in the Alastair Stone Chronicles

by R. L. King

  For a couple seconds, Riley continued to struggle as if on autopilot. Then he let his breath out in a long, loud exhalation and stared up at Stone. His eyes held sanity now, but still fear, too. “What…the…fuck?” he breathed. “What the fuck happened to me?”

  “Long story,” Stone said. “Come on. I need your help.”

  Riley blinked. “My help? To do what? Tell me what’s going on! I was…Everybody was after me! They were chasing me with axes…Nick tried to come on to me, and Kelly threw a chair at him…and Cody tried to fuckin’ take my head off with a baseball bat!”

  Stone wasn’t at all surprised, given the crew’s general opinion of Riley. “We’ve got to stop them,” he said. “What do you remember? What happened with the shoot?”

  Riley shook his head, swiping his hair off his forehead. “Man…the whole thing just went to hell. It was fuckin’ insane. Everything went wrong…everybody started yellin’ at everybody else…Like I said, Nick came on to me, and I got pissed—then Kelly got jealous and flipped out and tried to kill Nick…Rita went after Larry—and then Larry realized you weren’t there, yelled something about you stealin’ his gold, and took off before Rita could get another shot at him.” He gripped his head with both hands. “Am I goin’ batshit?”

  “No,” Stone said. “You’re not. Not anymore. And we need to stop this so everyone else isn’t either. You’re going to help me.”

  Riley glared at him, but it was more of a “I have no idea what’s going on” sort of glare than an angry one. He looked Stone up and down. “What the fuck happened to you, man? You look like hell.”

  “Long story,” Stone repeated. “Do you know where the basement of this place is?”

  “Is Larry really dead?” Riley glanced toward the door again.

  “Yes. He really is. And no, I didn’t kill him. Riley—where’s the basement?”

  “What’s in the basement?” he asked suspiciously.

  “The source of all of this. If I can find it, I can make them all stop. You don’t want people coming after you with axes, do you? You might be an annoying arse, but being an annoying arse isn’t a capital offense.”

  “You can make them stop?” His gaze darted between Stone and the door. “How?”

  “Too hard to explain. But I promise you, I can do it. First, though, we need to find the basement.” He wondered if Riley was otherwise impaired—perhaps from too much overindulgence in his room before the shoot.

  “Um…yeah. Come with me. But gimme the gun back. If they come after me again, I want to—”

  “You want to what? Kill your co-workers? Trust me, Riley, you don’t want to do that. I can handle them if they come after us.”

  Riley snorted, looking him over again with contempt. “Yeah, right.”

  “I handled you, didn’t I? Now come on. Do you know where it is?”

  “The basement?” Riley reluctantly followed him out of the room, with several nervous glances toward the two dead Yateses. “Yeah. But it’s locked up tight. They showed us the door on the tour.”

  “Show me.”

  “You aren’t gonna—”

  Stone spun on him, his patience exhausted. “Yes. I am. Now show me the damned door!”

  Apparently he’d finally hit the right amount of authority in his tone, or Riley was just done arguing. “Fine. C’mon. But there’s no way you’re gonna get past the lock. It’s fuckin’ massive.” He turned left and headed down the hallway. Halfway down he stopped, pointing. “There. See what I mean?”

  He was right: it was a big lock. The old-fashioned door was bound with iron, held shut with a heavy hasp and a rusting lock the size of a child’s fist. He wondered what else was down there—or what else people thought was down there—that would warrant this kind of protection. Popping this one would take some effort. “All right, stand back and keep a watch for anyone coming.”

  “What’re you gonna do?” Riley took a step back, hovering in the hallway behind him.

  Stone concentrated on the lock. It wasn’t anywhere near as easy as door locks in good repair—with those, he could simply use magic to release them. This one would require main force, something he had in short supply at the moment. Sweat broke out on his forehead and he began to shake from the exertion.

  “Hey, dude, you’re gonna pop a blood vessel!” Riley said nervously. “What the hell are you trying to do? Let’s just go get the shotgun, and—”

  “Quiet,” Stone rasped. He gripped the lock in both hands, directing power with more precision into its jammed-up workings. How long had it been since anyone had opened this door? He doubted the Yateses had ever even looked in their basement. How could someone live in a house with a locked door like this and not be the least bit curious about what was behind it? There could be a bloody dimensional portal down there, or some sleeping, horrific creature, or a cache of old dynamite left over from the mining or logging days. How could they stand not knowing?

  “Stone?”

  “Quiet!” he snapped again. The shotgun would never get through this door, despite what happened in the movies. If he couldn’t get it soon, he’d need to go in search of another axe and see if he could convince Riley to try taking the door down that way. He wondered if Riley’s Hollywood-sculpted physique was actually capable of doing real work, or—

  With a sudden loud scrape, the rusty shackle popped and the lock sprang free. It dropped to the floor with a klunk that echoed through the hall like a gunshot.

  “Holy shit!” Riley said, moving in for a closer look. “How the hell did you do that?”

  “Leverage,” Stone said, distracted. “Come on.” He pushed open the door, revealing a rickety wooden staircase descending into blackness.

  Riley looked at it dubiously. “You sure you want to go down there, dude? Those stairs look pretty shaky…”

  “Come on,” Stone repeated. He was once again rapidly losing patience with the man. Riley wasn’t much better with the mental shield up—but at least he wasn’t trying to kill him at the moment. He counted that as a positive.

  He shined the light down the staircase. The basement formed a single large room with a dirt floor, about twenty feet on a side and open except for a few support columns breaking up the space. Most of the room was empty, with a few large, shrouded objects, rusting tools, and wooden boxes stacked up along the walls and one large covered pile in the center.

  “There’s nothin’ down here but old shit,” Riley said.

  Stone ignored him, switching to magical sight. The red fog was strong here, filling the whole room from floor to ceiling and creeping up the stairs into the house. It was no wonder the TV crew had all freaked out so badly and so fast—this, not the shrine in the mining chamber, was probably the epicenter of the new, upgraded curse. Stone was sure now that Sarah had never intended things to go as far as they had. She’d only wanted vengeance on her father and the original townspeople of Brunderville for what they did to her beloved Zeke, but her murder at the hands of her father, along with the ley line’s presence, had made things exponentially worse.

  “Dude, what are you—” Riley grabbed his shoulder—the injured one.

  With no thought and a snarl of rage, Stone wheeled around and slammed Riley against the opposite wall with a concussion beam.

  Riley’s eyes got huge. He gaped at Stone as if he’d just seen a real, unmistakable ghost, raising both hands to ward him off. “Dude—I’m sorry. I’m sorry! What the hell—” Then he got a good look at Stone’s shoulder and must have realized what he’d done. “Oh, fuck, my bad, dude, I didn’t mean to—”

  Stone got in his face, and the rage he vented had nothing to do with the curse. “Listen to me, Riley,” he said. “I have no more patience. I’m tired, I’m freezing, I hurt, and I’ve just watched a good friend die because of your idiot boss’s greed and stupidi
ty. If I don’t stop this curse, the rest of your dysfunctional lot and everyone else left in this godforsaken town are all going to slice each other up like Sunday barbecue. I’m only going to say this once—either help me or get the hell out of here, or I’ll put you down to keep you out of my way. So what’s it going to be?” The tone of deadly calm had gradually risen in volume and intensity until at the end he was shouting.

  Riley scrabbled at the wooden floor, pushing backward into the wall as if trying to shove himself through it. His breath came in terrified gasps. “How did you—how did—” he began, then apparently figured out that perhaps he didn’t want to know. “Okay. Okay! I’ll help you! Just—just back off, okay? I’ll do it!”

  Stone backed off, breathing almost as hard as Riley was. “Right,” he said in a calmer tone. “Good.”

  “What…do you want me to do?” Riley was eyeing him warily, keeping his distance.

  “Come inside with me, and hold the light.” Stone handed him the flashlight, then pushed through the door and carefully began picking his way down the rotted staircase, staying close to the wall. It creaked under his weight, but held.

  Riley watched until Stone made it safely to the dirt floor, then gingerly retraced his steps. “Wait a sec…” he said when he reached the bottom. He shined the light at Stone. “Did you say something about…stopping the curse?”

  “Yes.” Stone had already moved into the room and was looking around with magical sight, trying to pick out any anomalies in the solid wall of swirling red fog. They didn’t have time to dig up the whole floor looking for Sarah’s bones, so he hoped he’d see some sign to help narrow things down.

  “You mean…the Brunderville curse?”

  “You know of another one? Shine the light over here, please.”

  Riley, who hadn’t moved from the foot of the stairs, did as directed. “So…the curse is real?”

  “You tell me. Do you think your coworkers hate you enough to go after you with axes if they were in their right minds?”

  When Stone didn’t spot anything unusual in his scan of the clear areas of the floor, he returned to the center of the room and pulled the dusty cloth cover off the tall pile of objects there, revealing carefully stacked wooden boxes and several pieces of heavy, rotted wooden furniture. “Help me with these, please. We need to look underneath.”

  Riley still didn’t move. “So…you’re saying…everybody went batshit because the curse made them do it?”

  “Yes,” Stone said with growing impatience. “Get over here and help me.” He picked up one of the boxes and, with the help of a bit of magic, put it aside.

  “Then…” Riley walked slowly over and picked up another box. “How come I’m not tryin’ to kill you anymore? Oh, man…I tried to take Nick’s head off ’cuz he came on to me. I didn’t even know he was gay. I mean, I don’t swing that way personally, but I got no problem with—”

  “It wasn’t your fault.” Stone picked up another box. “The curse amplifies desire.” His mind went back to the scenes with Denise back at the Shangri-La. “He might have fancied you but never said anything about it before, but the curse brought it out.”

  Riley swallowed and picked up another box. “So—but—why am I not doing it anymore? I was gonna blow you away up there, just ’cuz I thought Larry was payin’ too much attention to you, and tryin’ to push me out. How fucked up is that?” He prepared to toss the box aside.

  “You must have thrown it off,” Stone said. “Stop!” he added with sudden urgency. “Don’t do that!”

  “Do what?” Riley stopped in mid-throw.

  “Throw those. We don’t know what’s in them. This is a mining town—it could be explosives.”

  Riley went visibly pale under his tan. “Holy shit,” he breathed, and practically tiptoed over to the spot where Stone had been stacking the boxes. “Do you think so?”

  “Do you want to find out?” Stone added another box to the stack. One more row of boxes and they’d clear the floor. He had a good feeling about this—if Brunder had killed his daughter and buried her in the basement of his mansion, he’d want to make sure to cover up the spot well in case anyone got suspicious.

  “What are you looking for, anyway?” With far more care than before, Riley hefted another box and added it to the stack.

  “A buried body.”

  Riley stopped and stared. “You’re shittin’ me. You mean a dead body?”

  Clearly, for all his on-screen charisma, Bryce Riley wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. “People don’t generally bury live ones. Yes. A long-buried body. Sarah Brunder’s, to be specific.”

  “And you think it’s here?” he indicated the area they were clearing.

  “I hope so. Move that last box and I’ll have a look.”

  Riley did so, leaving a cleared area covered by an oilcloth tarp. Stone gathered it up and draped it over the remaining pieces of furniture, then shifted to magical sight and examined the spot.

  Pay dirt! He knew as soon as he looked at it that they’d found the right place. The glow here was much brighter, and now that the area was cleared, he could see that the fog originated here, pumping up to roll over the floor, up the stairs, and out into the rest of the town.

  “What are you staring at?” Riley asked from behind him.

  “I found what we’re looking for.” Stone glanced around the room until he spotted the pile of tools, and pointed. “See if you can find a couple of shovels over there.”

  “Wait—how do you know you found what we’re looking for? It doesn’t look any different than the rest of the floor.”

  “I just know,” Stone said with a sigh. “Find some shovels. Or pickaxes. Anything we can dig with.” He turned back to the spot, studying it. He hoped the ground wasn’t too hard down here.

  “Uh…Stone?” Riley called. His voice had an odd edge, quiet and stressed.

  “What?”

  “Remember what you said about explosives?”

  “Yes…”

  “Dude…take a look at this.”

  Stone grabbed the flashlight from where they’d left it strode over to where Riley stood facing a pair of wooden boxes stacked next to the wall. He’d obviously pulled another dusty tarp off them, looking for shovels.

  Stone shined the beam on them and stiffened as he read the faded text stenciled on the side:

  DANGEROUS – EXPLOSIVE

  DYNAMITE

  ALLIED LOGGING CO. INC.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  Mathias stood on the far side of the room. He’d snatched two of the children and held them now, immobile and terrified, in front of him, with a gun pressed to one’s head in such a way that if he fired it, the bullet would pass through it and kill the second child as well. “Everyone stop now!” he ordered.

  Oh, God, he hid with the kids. And I didn’t even think to look for it! Stupid! Verity looked around. Jason lay in a stunned heap a few feet away from her. Toro and Leo were scrambling up, dazed. The rest of the children had fallen into a tangled pile, still conscious but making no effort to stand back up. Their robotic eyes lit up with fresh terror.

  Leo went for his gun, but Toro barked, “No! He’ll shoot the kids!”

  “Boss—”

  “Put it down, Leo!”

  “Yes, Leo,” Mathias said with a mocking smile. “Put it down. You too,” he said to Toro. When the two of them laid their guns down and kicked them away, he turned his attention to Verity. “And you, little witch…if you make a move, I’ll kill these children. And then I’ll kill you. Do you doubt me?”

  That was the problem. She didn’t doubt him. She knew he’d do exactly what he said he’d do. “So what now? Are you gonna kill us?”

  Jason groaned and stirred, but didn’t get up.

  “Again, that is up to yo
u.” He stroked the side of the little boy’s head with the gun barrel in a disgustingly sensual motion. “It’s unfortunate that you had to notice my subterfuge. If you hadn’t, I would simply have made my escape with the rest of the children, and none of you would ever have seen or heard from me again. But now, this complicates matters.” He considered. “I could still simply escape, but I suspect at this point if I were to let you go—you especially—you wouldn’t rest until you tracked me down. And I do believe you when you say you know others who might be better equipped to do it. So best if I…tie up loose ends, I think, much as I’d rather not.” He nodded to Toro, then pointed at Jason. “You. Kill him.”

  “You’re fuckin’ kidding,” Toro protested. “I ain’t killin’ anybody, you fuckin’ perverted scum. Except you, if I get a chance.”

  “Do it,” Mathias said. “Or I will kill one child every minute until you do. And please don’t waste your time trying to shoot me—my magic will prevent your bullets from reaching me.”

  Verity froze. “No! You can’t—” She’d been hoping if they could stall long enough, either some of Toro’s men might come up to investigate, or she’d figure out some way to use magic against Mathias. The problem was, she believed him—he was undoubtedly watching her aura, and he’d spot any telltale signs of hostile magic.

  Think! There had to be a way! She might be able to get off some indirect magic—if there was anything she could use it on. The room was featureless, so she couldn’t drop anything on his head, and if she tried to throw anything—a gun, or even one of the other kids—at him, he’d stop it instantly.

  Think, Verity! What would Stone do? He’d undoubtedly come up with a clever way out of this situation—he always did. But would even he be able to do it before Mathias pulled the trigger? He was good, but he didn’t move any faster than Verity did.