by KC Bellinger
“Hard to believe, huh?”
“Not really, there are a lot of things out there that aren’t right in this world. I believe you, and I will help you in any way I can.” He smiled then pretended to fling potatoes from his fork at me. “What I can’t believe is that you haven’t eaten since you arrived in Timber Grove.”
We sat in a comfortable silence until we finished eating.
“So, what’s your story?” I placed the dirty plates inside the picnic basket and pulled on an extra sweater. It was getting colder outside and the sky was ash-gray; it looked like it just didn’t exist anymore.
“We moved here with our parents when I was very young. I remember the trip.” He pointed to the chair. “Have a seat. I’ll make this quick since we have a lot of walking to do this afternoon.”
I sat down next to him on the bed. I could tell the story wasn’t going to be any easier to tell than mine. Everyone who survived The Crash, before or after, had suffered.
“We were living up north in a highly populated city. We shared a house with two other families but it didn’t seem overcrowded to me—I was only four. That autumn, a disease spread through the city, killing many people. Once one of the other families we stayed with started showing signs, my father pulled us out of the house. We had a car, though we never used it. Living in such cramped conditions everything you need is within reach, or it doesn’t exist,” he explained as his eyes grew faint, trapped in the memory. “My folks traveled for the Christmas holiday when The Crash happened. They just got married and were sort of on a honeymoon. Well, one of the meteors that plummeted into the Pacific Ocean had demolished the northern town they were living in by the sheer force of the ocean waves. For all they knew, their family was dead, but they wanted to go there one last time before settling someplace south and safe.
“It took two days before the car ran out of gas. In some areas, gas was still available but it came at a cost, as it still does. Where we stopped, there was nothing. The ocean had to be miles away, but it had taken everything it could touch with it.
“I remember seeing a stone fireplace still firmly attached to a foundation but everything else was missing from the house. There was the occasional street light or ceramic bathtub that was too heavy to sweep into the ocean but mainly everything and everybody was gone.
“We walked south for a while and found the bones of a town in which we stayed the night. There wasn’t much more there, but we did happen on a brick house. Starving, we raided the cupboards, hoping to find something edible. But even the canned and jarred food was fuzzed over in mold.” Justin’s eyes glittered with tears as he paused to catch his breath. “Julia found a door in the kitchen that had the same wooden panels as the cabinets. It opened down instead of out. It was the oven—inside of it, left on the wire rack, was the remains of an infant. Its skull was covered in a Christmas bonnet. Someone thought it must have been the safest place for it till the water subsided. I’d never heard Julia scream as loud as she did. It kills me when I remember the horror of the little skeleton dressed in its holiday gown, waiting for its parents, who probably got washed out to sea like everyone else in that town.
“How long had it cried before it died? Did it suffocate? Those questions still haunt me to this day.” Justin rubbed his eyes and grabbed a glass of water.
“You don’t need to continue if it’s too hard,” I offered.
“No, I’m okay.” He sniffed then continued, “We searched the cellar and left as quickly as we came. We found a few jars of baby food, beets, and bottled water that had been placed in a water-tight safe. My father found a backpack carrier he could tote me around with. Poor Julia was left to walk because she was too big to be carried.
“She cried constantly, begging to be picked up or to stop, but winter was fast approaching and there was no time for rest. The mountains we had to cross were unforgiving.
“We arrived at Timber Grove—a promising place to stay. All the houses were deserted but intact and mainly livable. It was like the people were gone but nothing else was different. I mean, there were still cars left in every garage. I still wonder where they all disappeared to.”
“Many people had multiple cars. Maybe they just took off in one, leaving the other behind,” I offered.
“But why and where did they all go? Did they think they’d find a better place? Did they try to find their families like we did and find nothing but emptiness? Shortly after we arrived here, our parents disappeared. Where the Hell did they go?” He rubbed frantically at his swollen eyes. His long lashes caught most of the tears but a few escaped.
“I don’t know,” I said, taking his hand. “I grew up in a sheltered life. I lost my parents and have been taught to fight demons, but I never knew what was happening. I found out when I went downtown with Jaiten and I saw those girls dancing for food.” I looked up at him, both our hearts heavy for the people who had to suffer. “We have so much, can’t they come here?”
“Yes, but they don’t.”
“Why not?”
Justin shrugged and sighed. “We better get going.” He got up and threw my backpack on his shoulders.
“I can carry that.”
“That’s okay. I got it.” Justin opened the door and a gust of cold air slapped me out of the sadness Justin’s story created.
“You know, Justin, you really are a good friend.”
“So are you. Thanks for listening to me.”
“That’s what friends are for, right?” I grinned. “You’re the first real friend I’ve ever had.”
“Ever?”
“Well, there was Jaiten, but he was a demon. I refuse to classify him as a friend.” No, he was never a friend to me.
Chapter 15
“Wait up, kids,” a distressed voice called from a life-size stone angel. The cemetery was full of ornate headstones and statues; weather and time hadn’t disturbed the sacred graveyard. Priests, nuns, and cardinals slept peacefully beneath our feet, and we treaded lightly above their spines.
“Did you hear that?”
Before Justin could answer, a head of tousled hair popped out from behind the sculpture. Father Bucheli, still dressed in his morning suit complete with Roman collar, appeared, drifting toward us.
“I’m going with you.” The priest looked disheveled and the stubble on his face and bags under his eyes confirmed my worry. This whole situation was too much for him.
“No, Father, you need to stay here. There is another mass in an hour and this may take a while,” I pleaded.
The priest shook his head and heaved the pack he was carrying from one shoulder to both. “I can’t let you kids go down there alone. Father Janssen will cover mass for the rest of the day and tonight’s service as well. I’m coming with you.”
I didn’t want to fight with him, so I let him lead the way to the catacombs. The mausoleum that housed the entrance to the underground tomb and tunnels was carved with saints and angels. There were two empty stone planters on each side of the engraved door. The inscription read: It Begins Here.
“That’s odd,” I remarked.
“It has a double meaning,” Father Bucheli explained. “Once there was a Protestant priest who converted to Catholicism. For years he battled with his village to offer sanctity for new settlers.” He ran a hand along the teak door. “Before he died, he resurrected the mausoleum over the catacombs to guide people into eternity with God and he created a sign to the tunnels for the freedom of prosecution here. He never used the tunnels to flee. The priest believed both religions were essentially one but could not convince people on either side and was later executed.” His hand fell to the heavy iron door handles. There was a thick chain weaved through the twisted metal, clamped tightly by a rusted padlock. The priest tugged needlessly on the door. “I forgot about the lock,” he said, looking aghast. “The kids used to play inside and we felt it wasn’t safe. I haven’t been out here in ages and I don’t know where the key is.”
“There are other ways in,”
Justin said reassuringly. “Julia knows these tunnels inside and out, but I don’t remember where they are, do you?”
The priest shook his head. “I never explored the tunnels. Other members of the church took care of the cemetery grounds and mausoleum. I only provided the lock.”
“Okay, move out of the way.” I pushed my way through the two guys. “I’ve got an idea.”
“What are you going to do, break the lock?” Justin teased.
“As a matter of fact, yes, I am.” I took the lock in one hand and yanked hard. The chain fell loudly to the ground. I opened the door, gesturing with my other hand for Justin to enter. Father Bucheli snickered at Justin’s gaping mouth. No reason to hide my strength when they both knew I was linked with an incredible angel.
We entered the small building only to wind up in the dark.
There were no windows, just the light from the open door. The priest pulled out three taper candlesticks and their brass holders. He lit one and gestured to the wall sconces. They had small votive candles that promised little light, but I ignited their wicks anyway. Eerie shadows played upon the face of the Virgin Mary and the infant in her arms. Silk and paper flowers were strung across her feet and she stood in front of a trapdoor partially obscured by a crooked floor mat. I leaned over and pulled hard on the iron ring. Unlike the lock, it flew up with no effort and I felt my face flush. I thought it would be hard to lift but I was wrong. The cover hit Justin in the face, missing his candle by inches.
“I am so sorry, Justin.” I pulled the dusty mat off his shoulder and he sneezed, causing his flame to go out.
Someone laughed, but it didn’t belong to the three of us.
“Who’s there?” I demanded, positioning myself in front of my traveling companions in a fighting stance. When no one answered, I reached behind Justin’s back and unzipped the pack—it felt so soft and comforting, I had to stroke it a few times before I could pull the cloak out of the bag.
Justin peered over his shoulder, and though I knew he couldn’t see in the dark as I could, I’m certain he knew what I was reaching for.
“No Whitney,” he whispered. His voice was shaky and unsure, but his hand on my wrist was firm. “You don’t need it.”
“You don’t know that,” anger filled my voice and reverberated off the walls. “I need it to protect you!” I pried his fingers off easily and tugged hard on the cloak.
Justin pulled away, leaving the fur hanging from his back.
“It’s not time to play games, Justin! I need it!”
“You aren’t getting it.” He slammed me away from him, and I crumpled onto the floor. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you away from this thing! Even if it means one of us gets killed.” His once soft blue eyes were now arctic cold sending shivers down my spine.
The laughter boomed once again.
Justin’s defensive posture dropped and he looked out of the cracked door. “Julia, that isn’t funny at all!”
Julia appeared in the doorway. Her sour smirk radiated, making her look grotesque. Of course, I was still on the floor and the bigger girl was now towering over me. Justin reached down and pulled me up by my shoulders. My gaze never left his sister’s face. I was pissed. Not only did she scare all of us, but she caused Justin and me to fight. I didn’t like this girl.
“Relax,” she smirked. “I just thought I’d come with you.”
“How did you know we were here?” I barked, pulling free of Justin’s help.
“Oh, I knew. I know a lot of things, Whitney White,” Julia sneered and slithered over to me with an accusing finger.
“Forget it, you aren’t coming.” I reached over Justin’s shoulder to tuck the cloak back inside the bag. I zipped it up and then yanked it from his shoulders.
He said nothing nor did he stop me from fastening it on my back.
“I know what’s down there—I know the tunnels well. Who do you think that lock was installed for?” Julia gestured to the padlock abandoned on the floor.
“Do I look like I give a damn?”
“Girls,” Father Bucheli said soothingly. Tucked inside the shadows, the priest wasn’t visible at all. “I think Julia has a point. I know there is some tension between the two of you, but I think she’ll be an excellent guide.”
Julia’s eyes brightened as they narrowed victoriously.
I shrugged. I didn’t want to waste any more energy on that girl even if it was only a few words.
Chapter 16
The further down the earthen stairs we walked, the more my eyesight adjusted to the dark. I handed the candle to Julia. At least it looked like a friendly gesture. Each stair was smaller than my shoe, forcing us to walk sideways. A landing appeared and a wall of graves greeted us. Bodies slept on shelves, one on top of another like bunk beds. A few loose bones had scattered onto the limestone altar below. I waited for everyone to reach the bottom step before I started for the next stairwell.
Gasps of horror pulled at my throat.
A large roach tickled the eye socket of a skull that had fallen to my feet. I had never seen the dead like this before, and the thought of my mother being cremated seemed like a relief now. She would never have her head separated from the rest of her. A hand felt for mine in the dark. It was soft but large and clammy, and I squeezed it hard.
“Remind me I don’t want to be buried.” I gulped.
“So, you aren’t mad at me?” Justin asked. “I mean … if you still want me around long enough to see you die.”
“It may not be as long as you think,” I uttered through gritted teeth. I was afraid I’d start shaking if I didn’t rip my eyes from the dead, but we were still waiting for the other two to reach the landing. “No, I’m not mad, but, Justin, I will have to put it back on. Even if it devours me, I have to save those angels the Strongs imprisoned.”
“I know.” He buried his face in the back of my hair and murmured, “I care deeply for you, Whitney. Please know that.”
Footsteps of the others were now audible, it would only be moments before the rest of our party joined us. Anything I said would be heard, so I didn’t say a word. How could I tell him someone had already claimed my heart? For now, I felt safe with my fingers laced with his—as safe as I was when claimed by the cloak.
Justin’s hand dropped from mine when his sister’s candle was visible, followed by the priest’s flame, and so did the feeling of security.
I started down the next flight of stairs and ended up in a large opening leading to two large tunnels. This time, everyone was right on top of each other, their eyes adjusting to the dark. “Which way now?” I asked, my voice echoing in the cavern.
“We need to split up,” Julia chimed in. “There are smaller tunnels inside each one. If we go in twos, we can cover them a lot quicker.”
“Julia, we are looking for a bowl. I believed it was carved from bone or a very pale stone. Do you recall seeing anything like that when you were down here?” I asked politely.
“I have never seen one, but there are many open graves. Never would I touch or desecrate their eternal sleeping space, so it may be still here, just not visible.”
“Justin and I will take this one and you and Father Bucheli take that one,” I ordered.
“No, we need to talk, Whitney. The guys can take that one.”
“I think we should follow Whitney’s plan, Julia. It may be safer,” the priest agreed.
“You think Whitney couldn’t protect me?” Julia sneered.
“The question is, will she protect you?” Justin laughed.
***
Julia won ... this time. We went down the right tunnel and the guys to the left. The passage became narrow, the smell of clay and limestone filling my nostrils.
Julia said she wanted to speak to me, but about a mile in, she hadn’t said more than two words. The silence was unnerving.
”What’s on your mind, Julia?” my voice bounced off the walls.
“Shh,” she ordered. “Wait till the tunnel thins.”
A network of roots threatened to scrape our heads if we stood up straight. The rocky walls, now raw with water seeping through its veins, scraped my shoulders. I felt swallowed by the earth and I was stuck somewhere in its esophagus. One big gulp and I’d be swimming in its stomach.
I thought about a lot of things over the past hour of our trip through the earth, but mostly I thought about Mom. I felt for the locket around my throat. The charm was oval and there was an engraved hand inside a heart. When I rubbed it, I could feel each finger. I tugged at the cold chain to make sure it was still tightly clasped. I didn’t want to lose it down here, but it was still attached as firmly as it had been the day Jaiten gave it to me.
Fury swelled in me at the thought of the demon. All I wanted to do was remove the chain immediately and dispose of it, but it would have to wait till we resurfaced.
“Turn here.” Julia grazed my shoulder with her fingers.
“Don’t touch me!” I snapped, slapping her hand away. Jaiten was still on my mind and I wasn’t thinking clearly. “Oh, Julia, I am so sorry. My thoughts were elsewhere.”
“So, I feel.” She rubbed at her hand.
I hit her pretty hard and she’ll probably get a nasty bruise. “I didn’t break anything, did I?”
“No, it just stings. I guess, in a way, I deserve it.”
I didn’t argue.
Turning into the small offshoot, we walked a few steps till the earth jutted up and we had to lift each other onto the ledge. The tunnel we’d been traveling through had narrowed to roughly four feet. It felt good to finally stretch. It was moist and a chilly breeze filled the new tunnel.
“Do you hear that?” There was a faint scratch up ahead.
“I’d hate to tell you what I think it is.” Julia grimaced. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Okay, so here’s the story …”
I snapped out of my fog to listen.
“I know what you are. Maybe I don’t know exactly what you are, but I know it entails magic.” She put a hand up to stop me from talking.