Ghouls Gone Wild

Ghouls Gone Wild Page 26

by Victoria Laurie

Fergus held his lantern up toward the elm, his expression triumphant. “She approaches!” he said.

  Nearby I could hear the inspector and the barrister murmuring together. I was especially grateful that they hadn’t walked out on us, but we had made rather bold promises of revealing Cameron’s killer if they would just take the tour. It’d been risky, but so far, it seemed to be paying off.

  “Jeff!” the girl next to me squealed when a nearby twig snapped. “Let’s get out of here!”

  I held my breath, hoping they would leave. “Are you kidding?” he exclaimed. “Shelly, this is awesome!”

  I exhaled with a sigh. Shelly and Jeff were the one fly in this ointment, and I didn’t have it worked out yet how I was going to do what I had to do and protect them at the same time. I didn’t even feel confident that we could keep the other members in the party safe. “We don’t have enough grenades,” I whispered worriedly to Heath.

  “I know,” he said. “But we’re too far into this to turn back now.”

  When the woods became quiet again, Fergus waved to us. “Shall we continue?” he asked.

  “Yes, if it’ll get us out of these woods!” said Shelly

  Fergus laughed wickedly. “This way, then, me lady,” he said. Shelly hurried up to Fergus’s side and Jeff went with her. I bit back my irritation. They were just making it harder and harder.

  As we walked, I became aware that Heath was looking this way and that. “We’re being followed,” he said.

  I’d felt it too. The witch was with us. I didn’t know if her two evil sisters were also in attendance, but I sort of hoped so. It would make things just a little easier if they were.

  We got clear of the woods and approached that tremendous oak tree. I could feel my heart rate tick up a bit and reached for Heath’s hand again after tucking the spike back into its metal container.

  His palm was a little sweaty. He was nervous too. “Meg, and John,” I whispered, and they edged closer to me. “I’m going to have to split you guys up. On my signal, Meg, you’ll have to cover the odd couple up there, and get them away from Fergus. John, you’re on your own to cover the inspector and the barrister.”

  Meg looked really nervous. “What if the grenades don’t work?”

  “They’ll work well enough,” I assured her, and I hoped I was right. “They won’t go after you with easier targets so close. The one thing you cannot do is let anyone get too far away from the grenades. Keep your groups contained, and close to you. Lock arms with them if you have to, but cover them no matter what you see or what comes out of these woods.”

  “Okay,” they both said.

  “And Meg, make sure that Gilley flips the switch on and off only on my signal. You’re the one in constant contact with him, so make sure you’re watching me at all times.”

  “Got it,” she said.

  I felt butterflies in my stomach as we got closer and closer to the tree. Looking east, I could just make out the top of the tower where Gilley, Gopher and Kim were. I’d chosen not to wear a headset because I couldn’t concentrate with Gilley shrieking in my ear—as I knew he’d be doing on this bust—so I’d given the communication over to Meg, who’d been a champ about volunteering for the post.

  We walked another hundred yards and the misty atmosphere turned slightly drizzlier. It wasn’t raining outright, but it was definitely wet. Fergus stopped under the bough of the great tree and turned to address us. Heath let go of my hand, and I moved in toward Fergus’s right, while Heath edged over to his left. Meg put a hand to her ear, and I knew she was telling Gilley to get ready, while John angled over to the inspector and the barrister.

  So far, Fergus hadn’t noticed our sudden jockeying of position, and he began his speech. “For several hundred years throughout the Middle Ages, this mighty oak has seen a torrent of death. Dozens, perhaps even thousands, were brought here under suspicion of witchcraft or heresy and hanged right above my head.”

  I pulled the hood of my raincoat off my head and I heard Meg say, “Now, Gil!”

  I opened my sixth sense and closed my eyes. The atmosphere changed in an instant as it became charged with ions and electrostatic energy. “What’s happening?” Shelly squeaked, her voice high-pitched and frightened. She was right next to me.

  “Go stand over there,” I urged, opening my lids and looking her directly in the eyes. “Next to my friend Meg.”

  Meg stepped forward and reached out her hand. “You can get a better view over here,” she said, her face friendly and encouraging.

  Shelly looked from me to Meg, thoroughly confused, and then something creaked right overhead. “Crap,” I whispered, just as Shelly screamed loud enough for Meg to cover her ears.

  I looked up and ducked low, in spite of myself. Behind me there were gasps and even Fergus seemed surprised. Dozens of people were swinging back and forth from the tree, all of them looking wretchedly blue. Three of them I recognized quite clearly—Rigella and her sisters hung from the largest bough, only Rigella’s eyes were open and staring menacingly down at us.

  “Jesus Christ!” I heard Heath shout. “M. J., I think Gilley’s using too much juice!”

  I’d assigned Gilley to put the gadget we’d found in the tower room back together, and I’d told him specifically to amp up the power. I needed to make a point with Fergus and for a minute or two I needed things to get a little intense. What I hadn’t counted on was how many people had actually died in that tree.

  Nor, apparently, how many had died in the woods. Shelly was still shrieking her head off, and her boyfriend, Jeff, joined her in creating some chaos when Fergus lifted his lantern, illuminating the bodies for everyone to clearly see.

  Shelly took off then, with Jeff hot on her heels. My eyes darted to the woods and the faintest shadows that I could make out swirling now in and around the trees. “Don’t let them get trapped in the woods!” I cried.

  Meg nodded and took off after then. “Use the grenades!” I added. “Meg! Pull out your grenades!”

  I had no idea if she’d heard me, but John at least was on the ball. He stood right in front of the barrister and the inspector with arms crossed and at least three magnetic spikes gripped firmly in each hand. “What’s going on?” Fergus demanded, and I could tell he’d finally taken a good long look at who was on his tour.

  I turned to face him. “Your little ruse is up,” I told him. “We know what you’ve done, Fergus.”

  He actually laughed at me. “Oh, Miss Holliday!” he said, appearing delighted to find me here. “I see you’ve decided to sample my tour. Are you enjoying yourself so far?”

  “I’ll be enjoying myself a little more in a few minutes, Fergus, when you’re taken away in handcuffs for your part in the murder of Cameron Lancaster!”

  Ericson looked around and his eyes sparkled in the lantern light. “We’ll see about that, Miss Holliday,” he said, and nudged the lantern first toward the tree, where Rigella and her sisters no longer appeared, and then toward the woods.

  From out of the trees came three black shadows, exactly like the ones we’d caught on camera in the close and later attacking the van. They came with blinding speed straight at me, Heath, and Fergus—who was the only one of us who appeared unfazed by their approach. “And where is your friend?” Fergus asked wickedly. “Mr. Gillespie? I believe the Witch of Queen’s Close would like to invite him to a barbecue.”

  I didn’t take the bait; instead, I shouted out to Heath, “Brace yourself!” A second before they got to us, I closed my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest, protecting myself as best I could. It was to no avail. Rigella was one of the most powerful spirits I’d ever encountered, and she knocked me flat on my back and stomped on my chest for good measure.

  Instinctively I pushed back against her—but she was stronger than I was in this melding of both planes. I opened my eyes and I could see her face hovering above me. “Where do you hide the Gillespie?” she demanded. “I’ll find him, you know!”

  The weight of her was pressing so hard against me that it was hard to breathe. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Heath, also on the ground while two shadows pou
nded him with blows. John made a sudden movement, lowering his crossed hands as if he was about to go help Heath, and I shouted, “Stay where you are, John!”

  “Tell me where he is!” the witch shrieked, and Fergus laughed.

  “It’s impossible to deny her,” he said. “She must claim a victim tonight, and if it isn’t your friend, then she might be satisfied with you.”

  I struggled to take a deep breath and then I focused directly into the witch’s black, hollow eyes. “You want a Gillespie?” I snapped. “Why not go for the closest one?” Working to get my arm free, I finally managed to point an accusing finger at Fergus. “His great-great-great-grandfather was Gabriel Gillespie!”

  The witch’s head snapped in Fergus’s direction. “Lies!” he roared, but I could see the panic in his eyes.

  “I’m not lying,” I told the witch, recalling the extra bit of research I’d had Gopher do in preparation for tonight. What he’d discovered had sealed our advantage. “You have access to Gabriel, witch! He died in that very tree! He was hanged for high treason when he came out against the king!”

  And sure enough the witch’s eyes traveled to the tree, and one man swinging there, who suddenly opened his eyes. Even I could see the resemblance to Fergus. “Leave my family be, witch!” he shouted at her.

  But she merely waved her hand and he vanished with a thin pop. She then released me and called to her sisters. They pulled back from Heath and came to her side. I got sorely to my feet and looked at Heath. He groaned, but managed to get up too. With a pang I could see he was cut and bruised but otherwise okay.

  “Stay back!” Fergus warned as the sisters crept toward him.

  The witch raised her right hand, her thumb and middle finger pressed tightly together before she snapped them loudly. A small flame burst from the ground right by Fergus’s feet and he leaped back with a squeal. “Stop this!” he begged me. “I know you can stop this!”

  Heath moved to my side. “The woods, M. J.!”

  I glanced quickly toward the woods. They were alive with shadows. Somewhere in their interior we heard a woman scream, and I couldn’t tell if it was Shelly, Meg, or some spook. “I can stop this,” I said, “but you’ll have to confess your sins, Fergus!”

  Rigella gave another snap of her fingers, and a small flame to Ericson’s left sparked from the ground. He stomped it out with his foot and kept edging backward, away from the approaching sisters.

  “I . . . I . . . I . . . ,” he stammered. “It was an accident!” he cried. “I swear! And I was only trying to help Rose after all. Cameron was cheating on her, and I thought if I told her, then she would have the sense to leave him. But she confronted him and they argued and then he hit her. I heard them from outside, and when I went in, she had taken a frying pan to his head. He died from the blow and there was nothing I could do!

  “She begged me to help her. So we placed Cameron in the freezer and came up with a plan. As the seventh daughter of the seventh daughter, she’d always had the power to bring forth the witch, and I’d been working to expand my ghost tour, and invented a small device to help Rose call Rigella forth. But that’s all I did!” he shrieked. “I merely helped her cover it all up! It’s her you should be questioning!”

  The witch raised her hand again, and this time, so did her sisters. “We’ll definitely talk to Rose,” I assured him. “But none of that explains why you killed Joseph Hill.”

  There were three loud simultaneous snaps, and the cuff of Fergus’s pant leg caught fire, along with two more patches on the ground. He cried out and slapped his leg, snuffing out the flame and hopping over another, in his effort to get away. “I killed Joseph because he wouldn’t sell me that parcel with the castle!” he said. “The sorry sot was dying, after all, and his illness was making him suffer! I needed that castle for my coup de grâce! I planned to turn it into a haunted bed-and-breakfast. It would have made me a very rich man!”

  At that moment, Joseph Hill appeared. He walked right into the middle of our group and pointed an accusing finger at Fergus. “So you broke into me home, strangled me, then strung me up in this tree to make it like a suicide, Fergus? Why would you do such a thing to me? I was your best mate from primary school!”

  Fergus was shaking from head to toe and his complexion was ashen. “I’m sorry, Joseph! Truly I am!”

  “And what about the likes of me?!” shouted another voice and instantly a man in a green workman’s uniform appeared at my side. “Your gadget gave me a heart attack, it did! I was down in the close, mindin’ me own business, just needin’ to change one last bulb before me shift ended, and I find your little radio. I was thinking what a fancy bit of luck, and I turned it on and before I knows it, the witches are comin’ for me! I starts to run, and me poor heart gave out, just like that!”

  Fergus’s hand rose to his mouth as he stared at the new stranger. “Jack,” he whispered. “Oh, Jack, I never meant for you to get hurt!”

  “Admit it, Fergus!” I yelled. “You murdered these people for your own gain!”

  “Yes!” Fergus cried pitifully as the witches continued to close in. “Yes, yes! I’m guilty! Take me away, but don’t let them kill me!”

  I looked at the inspector. His eyes were wide as saucers and his expression was one of utter disbelief. Under any other circumstance I might have laughed at his reaction, but we were risking a lot by pushing the envelope this far. “Okay,” I said to John. “Tell Gilley to turn it off.”

  John shook his head. “Meg’s wearing the headset,” he reminded me.

  “Call him,” I ordered, stepping forward to the oak tree.

  John lowered his arms long enough to pat down his coat. “Oh, shit!” he swore. “M. J., I don’t have my cell! Gilley told us not to carry them on the bust!”

  I looked at Heath. He shook his head. “Back at the hotel.”

  I quickly grabbed for mine and pulled it out of my back pocket. I was the only one in the group apparently who didn’t care if a stupid cell phone was damaged. Handing it impatiently to Heath, I said, “Call him now and get him to turn it off!”

  Heath took the phone as Fergus yelled at us, “Why aren’t you helping me?!”

  “I’m working on it!” I snapped, focusing back on the trunk of the tree.

  “M. J.!” Heath said. “All the power just drained out of your cell! It’s dead!”

  I snapped my head at him. “Son of a . . . !” There was no way to get to Gilley and tell him to turn off the gadget, and that meant that there might be little I could do to stop the witch from hurting Fergus. “John!” I said. “Head into those woods and see if you can find Meg and get her to tell Gilley to turn off the enhancer!”

  John looked doubtfully toward the trees. “Which direction should I head?”

  The night air was broken by yet another bloodcurdling scream. “I’d try there,” I told him, then turned to Heath. “I need you to get to the castle. If John can’t get to Meg in time, you’re the only person fast enough to reach Gilley before it’s too late!”

  Without another word Heath bolted for the castle. John shoved half the magnetic spikes he’d been holding at the two men he was guarding and took off like a rocket. I pulled out a grenade and said to the witches, “Back off right now, Rigella, or I’m going to lock you into purgatory for good.”

  The three black shadows were nearly on top of Fergus now. He was bent over and curled into as small a target as he could make himself. Rigella turned her shadowy form back to me and I heard her hiss menacingly. “Do not threaten me, lass!” she commanded.

  I eased backward to stand right next to the tree as I held up my spike for her to see. Feeling my way along the bark I began hoping against hope that I was right. If Rigella and her sisters had died hanging from these branches, then Rigella’s portal was likely somewhere along the tree’s trunk. “It’s no threat,” I said. “It’s a promise.”

  Her reaction was exactly what I was hoping for. Her eyes became large and wide and she and both her sisters charged me. As fast as I could, I pulled out another grenade and frantically began feeling around the trunk. About a second before her energy slammed into me, I fou
nd a cold spot on the tree—the distinctive mark of a portal—and jammed one of the spikes directly into it.

  Rigella screamed and fell to the side as if I’d physically punched her. Her sisters stopped long enough to hover over her and that bought me a little more time. I began feeling around the base of the tree again and found another cold spot. I thrust the second spike deep into the trunk and the second sister cried out in agony. I felt for my belt as the third sister growled low and began to charge. I knew I didn’t have time to get a canister free and pull out a spike, so I yelled at the inspector, “Throw one to me!” He hesitated and I shouted again, “Now, man!”

  He tossed it, but he overshot the throw and the spike hit the tree way above my head then fell somewhere to the ground. In the dark I couldn’t find it and just as I was about to fall to my hands and knees to search for it, the spook hit me.

  I flew backward, somersaulting over and over, my head hitting the hard ground and stars filling my vision. The ghost of Rigella’s sister was incredibly strong, and fueled by rage, she lifted me off the ground again and tossed me several feet away.

  I landed in a heap, sputtering and coughing as the wind got knocked out of me. There was another raging scream and I looked up to see Rigella, getting to her feet again and eyeing me with deadly intent. Behind her Fergus was running as fast as his legs would carry him, and to my great dismay, both the inspector and the barrister were running after him . . . leaving me alone to face the Bitches of Eastwick.

  Chapter 16

  There is a time to fight and a time for flight, and this time, I knew without a doubt, was a time to head for them thar hills.

  I took off like a bat out of hell and didn’t stop, even after I felt the searing pain of all my stitches popping out, or the hot molten heat of the injury in my thigh being ripped open and the liquid sticky feeling as blood trickled down my pant leg.

  For several tense seconds, I had no idea where I could run that could possibly be safe, but then an idea came to my panicked mind and I prayed that I’d make it there ahead of the sisters.

 

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