The ashes seemed to thicken around my shoes like quick-sand, or hands. I remembered the article about the fire. Were these . . . those girls who had died . . .
I thought I heard groans, and the memories of screams.
Roast her alive . . .
oh God, I should have made Julie believe me. Or at least tried to tell Dr. Ehrlenbach what was going on.
Seven girls died in a fire in 1889. Somehow beyond what I could fathom, it was happening all over again. Another seven girls, another fire. I knew it—the truth rang out from inside me. But why? Why was this happening? I stumbled onward.
The door to the basement was ajar. I pushed quietly. It made no noise as I entered the basement. It was pitch-black. I stood in silence, listening, hearing my own panting, short breaths. They weren’t there. I hadn’t been to many other parts of the building. I didn’t know my way.
Above me, I heard noises. And then a shout, cut off. My hair stood on end.
Julie
, I thought.
Hold on. I’m coming.
I held my hands out in front of myself and took a step forward. I couldn’t see anything. There was no light anywhere. I took another step, stopped, tried to catch my breath as I trembled and my teeth chattered.
One more step. My foot touched something. I drew back with a gasp and moved to my right. Were they in the room, waiting to jump out?
Another step. Footsteps, overhead. They grew fainter.
I shuffled forward, the hair on the back of my neck prickling. Suddenly, I was certain that I wasn’t alone in the dark room. I could feel that coldness against the back of my neck and I had to bite down hard on my lower lip to keep from crying out. I hunched my shoulders together; the coldness remained, like a frozen hand.
Kiyoko?
I thought.
Is that you?
Help me.
The voice answered inside my head. I remember the figure I had seen in the tunnel at Jessel. Was she with me now?
I picked up speed, moving blindly. I had no idea how I kept making myself move forward.
Show me
, I said.
I felt a coldness on my neck, and this time, I moved to the left.
I began to panic. Was something—someone—controlling me? I was so unbearably scared. I had to breathe. I couldn’t. Yellow dots swam in front of my eyes.
The pressure increased. I wanted to raise my hand and touch my neck but I couldn’t; I didn’t dare. I walked forward, kept walking. How, I didn’t know.
Because I have to
, I thought.
Because Julie needs me.
And my racing mind pulled in the last thing Jane had said to me. It was a fluke; after my breakdown, I hadn’t gone anywhere, done anything. I stayed away from everyone. But one night, I had finally left my house and gone running in the park, to get the oxygen in and the adrenaline down, and I’d stopped to stretch.
Jane had stepped from the shadows. She’d looked at me, didn’t say hello, or say sorry—none of that. Her lip had curled back in a sneer and she’d said, “I can’t believe you bailed, Lindsay. You should have fought for Riley, if you liked him so much.”
My mouth had dropped open. I just stared at her. I was stunned by her unbelievable gall.
“Having a breakdown is just a convenient way to bail,” she’d gone on. “Everyone feels sorry for you, and you get to give up.”
I couldn’t bail now. I couldn’t fall apart. So I finally forced myself to breathe and let the
thing
guide me though the black hole of the basement.
I pushed on yet another door. It swung open.
I shook my head. I didn’t want to go through any more doors, any closed spaces. I began to freeze up. I couldn’t move. I shook so hard the bones in my head ached.
No. I could do this. I could.
Okay
, I thought, and started walking.
A horrible stench hit me—smoke and cooked, rotting meat. Dead things. I blinked back tears and hugged myself. I wanted to stop so many times.
I thought I heard more groans as I stepped through more ashes.
I stretched out my hands into empty space. I lifted my foot.
Stairs.
I began to climb through the blackness, bracing myself each time I took another step, thinking that I would collide with someone, or someone would jump at me and push me down to the bottom.
I could almost hear voices, but I didn’t know if they were inside my head. Echoes and echoes of echoes, laughter. Through the smoke and kerosene, I smelled blood, and urine, and the terrible metallic odor of sheer fear. After I reached the top of the stairs, I stepped on something hard that cracked beneath my shoe, like bone. I bit the inside of my cheek and tried to breathe through my nose.
I did hear voices, and saw the bloom of light ahead of me. I had no idea how I kept going; more light flared against a black, shattered wall far ahead of me. I started going down at an angle; there was more light and I was able to make out my surroundings. I was walking onto a smashed sort of balcony littered with curved rods of metal and slats of rotted wood. It was like the horseshoe lecture hall for my lit class, only instead of individual desks in rows of semicircles, there were three balconies, and they had at one time ringed the entire the building.
Snow sprinkled down on me; I looked up, to see sections of the wall that had fallen in. The moon glowed overhead, until it disappeared from view.
And then I saw a silhouette against the blue moonlight and faint yellow lamplight. It was a girl’s face, and she was turned away from me. I knew that face so well.
Julie.
She began to turn toward me, and I ducked down behind a pile of debris and peered over the side of it. I didn’t know why, but in the next instant, I was glad I had: she wasn’t alone. Mandy’s head appeared beside her, as the glowing skeleton I had seen in the turret room floated over her living body. Its shroud-gown flapped in the real wind, and snowflakes fell on flowing dark hair that whipped around her like tattered sails on a tall ship. The shape of her head reminded me of Julie’s white head in our room.
I’ ll save you, Julie
, I promised, clenching my shaking fists. My heart was beating so fast I was afraid I was going to pass out. I looked around for more cover in case I needed it, and realized that if I leaned to the left and rested my weight on my hand, I would be better hidden from anyone coming the same way I had come. I carefully moved; my hand covered something soft, pushed into it. I almost screamed when I realized it was a freshly dead animal. I smelled the odor, felt the slime. I had to close my eyes for a second to pull myself together.
“What was that?” Mandy whispered. “Is she here?”
“I didn’t hear anything.” Julie’s voice was calmer than I would have expected. And a little lower than normal.
“She’d better show,” Mandy hissed.
“She will,” Julie murmured.
Then someone behind me said, “Belle, we’re finished. Come and see.” It was Sangeeta.
A flashlight flared over Mandy’s horrible face . . . and then hit Julie square on.
No
.
Her eyes were black.
No.
And a white skull flared over her face, blurring as she stared into the flashlight. I saw her features clearly. I clamped my jaw so tightly I almost broke my teeth.
Mandy rose and started heading toward me. I ducked down and held my breath.
Oh God, please, don’t let them see me. Please.
An ice-cold wind washed over me. Tears formed in my eyes. My lungs were aching. I couldn’t breathe.
“They can’t wait to show you,” Sangeeta said.
“I’m sure they’ve done a fine job, sweet bee.” Mandy’s voice was behind me. “Can you believe it? I thought this day would never come.”
Their voices faded. The flashlight bloom disappeared. Julie had been left behind. Were they so sure that she couldn’t escape? Was she tied up?
There was silence for a few heartbeats. My arm was aching. I was so cold I had to fight to keep my teeth from chattering.
“Lindsay?” Julie whispered. Her voice was normal. “Lindsay, oh God, if you’re here . . . please help me,
please
. They’re going to kill me.” She rose slowly, moving toward me; then she stumbled. “Caspi,” she whispered, her voice breaking into deep, heavy sobs.
I didn’t say anything. Her black eyes had frightened me. Was she Number Seven? Or . . .
Or was she a replacement for Kiyoko, who was dead? And if she was, then who really was Number Seven—the one they really wanted dead?
Oh God . . .
“Lindsay, come quick,” she whispered. “
Please.
They’re going to set this place on fire.”
I didn’t speak, didn’t move. I would wait until she went past me and follow her. As she came up the aisle I shrank down, as best I could. I was numb. I felt as though my hair was frozen. Like Kiyoko’s hair, that night.
Don’t call out. Save me. Hide me
. It was the voice inside me.
Julie was to my right, about five feet away from me, sobbing. She was hunched over, her arms crossed, young and defense-less. . . .
Please, for the love of God . . .
. . . And I knew who was Number Seven. The one who didn’t belong. The only one who’d ever noticed the awful reflections, the blacked-out eyes. The only one who’d ever heard voices, smelled smoke.
Me.
I was Number Seven.
Then Julie stopped to my right. My lip quivered. I didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see.
But I did.
Julie was staring down at me. She opened her mouth.
“Julie,” I whispered. “Julie, you . . . you’re possessed. And you . . . you have to get out of here,
now
. I’ll help you.”
She took a breath.
And then she shouted at the top of her lungs, “She’s here!”
thirty-three
“Julie, no,”
I gasped, as she grabbed me. I slipped away from her easily and ran toward the darkness.
Just then, Mandy and Sangeeta stepped from it. And Alis, Lara, and Rose as well.
One: Mandy.
Two: Lara.
Three: Julie
Four: Sangeeta.
Five: Alis.
Six: Rose .
Alis was holding up a Coleman lantern. I heard the hiss of kerosene.
“So grand of you to accept my invitation,” Mandy cooed, in her Southern accent. She grinned at me, and I could see the toothless jawbones of a skull.
She cocked her head; the skull seemed to be screaming. I saw rage in the white bones. Dread clamped down on me, squeezing my chest, lashing my jaw shut.
“Mandy,” I said. “Mandy, this is crazy.”
“You know that I’m not Mandy,” she said, in her Southern accent. “You know who I am. I’m Belle Johnson.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know that name.”
The smell of kerosene hit me in the face, so strong I gagged and covered my eyes. I shook my head and tried to bolt, but Lara and Rose darted at me and grabbed my arms. Their hands were icy and their bodies stank like rotten meat. My knees buckled and Rose chuckled.
“Stop pretending,” Mandy—Belle—said.
Kerosene.
Smoke.
“You’re going to pay.” Belle gestured to Lara and Rose and they began to drag me back the way I had come.
“I’m not pretending,” I told her. “Pay for what? I don’t know why you’re doing this.”
“Don’t play dumb,” Lara said. “You know what’s happening. And why
.
”
We walked down the corridor, but not down the stairs I had taken. Instead, we continued down a hall draped with so many cobwebs it looked like a cocoon. My left hand was covered with blood and ooze, and I stared at it instead of the things gathered around me. Instead of the white-skull back of Julie’s head, as she walked ahead of me, with Belle, arms around each other’s waists.
I started to fuzz out, but I forced myself to stay focused.
Roast her alive.
Why?
“I haven’t done anything to you,” I said.
“Hush your mouth, child,” Belle ordered me.
“Maybe it’s not her.” That was Julie, the merest bit of uncertainty in her tone.
“Julie, Julie, help me,” I said, but Lara dug her nails into my wrist.
“You stop it,” Lara demanded.
The lantern flared over the cobwebs, and then the gaping mouth of a doorless entryway. And then I saw it, whether it was real or in my imagination, I couldn’t say. It was almost like a memory. But it was so real. . . .
The men.
The operating table.
Strapped down.
Screaming until the chloroform knocks her out and then . . .
The ice pick.
Ice.
Ice.
Ice.
And then . . .
The blood and the—
Nothingness.
Must stop it, must stop it . . .
I bent over and threw up.
“I can’t go in there,” I begged.
“Oh, yes, sweet bee,” Belle hissed, whirling on me, grabbing up my hair and yanking back my head. Her skull glowed; her black eyes stared hard. “You remember. You know.”
“I don’t,” I rasped.
“Come out, Celia. Damn you to hell for what you did,” Belle said. “You come out and pay.”
Then they were dragging me into a huge cavern. As we entered, snowflakes tumbled in the lantern light. The ground was covered with dead leaves and rubbish.
Ten feet ahead of us, a stack of trash and wood stood about five feet high. Newspaper surrounded the base. As I looked at it, Lara reached into the jacket of her parka and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. I had seen them in the photographs in Mandy’s trunk.
Rose dug in her pocket and pulled out a small rectangular-shaped can. Lighter fluid.
Alis had a bottle of brandy.
Sangeeta had a box of kitchen matches.
“Get it out,” Belle snapped at Julie, who was studying the pile. “Hurry.”
Alis turned and Julie quickly unzipped her backpack. She pulled out the white head and held it up for all to see. A shining globe of white.