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Authors: E.M. MacCallum

The Haunting (9 page)

BOOK: The Haunting
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“What was that?” Claire whispered.

“Sounded like a woman,” Cody said softly.

“I knew it,” Joel grumbled. “We shouldn’t have trusted that guy. I bet Victor isn’t even in here.”

Read shrugged. “Who knows? Though the books didn’t really say that he robbed graves, the movies did. He still could be here.”

“Like he’s in trouble?” Cody asked.

Read shrugged.

The sharp laughter erupted again, sounding closer than before, and it wasn’t a solitary voice. Several female voices joined in the shrieking amusement.

“Sounds like witches,” Phoebe rasped, eyes wide.

The laughter had been so loud it was as if the women had been right next to us, but as they faded, they could have been back in the village. Where were they coming from?

Claire shuddered. “Is that the next challenge? Witches?”

I felt a jolt as I recalled the man in the village. “One of those guys back there. I thought he called Phoebe a bitch. He must have said witch.”

“Why call me a witch?” Phoebe asked with raised eyebrows.

Read crossed his arms over his chest as the fog’s moisture chilled the air. “Maybe this is where they keep witches?”

“How are we going to win against magic?” Cody asked. “I mean, I saw some of those cheesy witch movies before. They don’t seem that easy to kill.”

We all turned to Read. His eyes widened. “How should I know? I did a paper on Mary Shelley, not witches.”

Claire raised her hand to catch our attention. “I might have an idea.” She continued in a low voice. “Salt. Witches hate salt.”

“Are you sure?” Cody asked. “I mean, we can’t take chances here.”

Claire nodded. “I know, and I’m sure about this salt thing. I saw it in a movie once.” She turned around and started to back track.

“Wait, a movie once isn’t
sure
,” Cody argued in a hushed voice and reached out to snatch her before she wandered too far from us.

Joel swatted Cody’s arm away and went for Claire himself. “Where are you going?”

Startled, Claire half turned so the rest of us could hear. “I’m going back to that village. They’ll have salt there. At least, they should.”

Phoebe frowned and shook her head. “I don’t know about you guys, but I remember telling that old man that we wouldn’t come back. I don’t think that they’d like us very much if we waltzed back in. They might end up being more dangerous than whatever it is out here.”

“They just didn’t like
you
,” Claire defended. “What could they possibly do?”

“Mob mentality,” Phoebe smiled at Claire as if she was a child.

Claire swallowed loud enough for me to hear.

“Yeah, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Cody chimed in.

Joel’s eyes narrowed. “What if a guy went? Just by himself?”

“Are you volunteering?” I asked.

He glowered. “Say that I am.”

“That’s splitting up,” Cody said.

“Not if you guys stay at the edge of the cemetery. We could still see the houses from there. If something happens…” Joel trailed off as his imagination filled in the rest, rendering him speechless.

“Okay.” I rubbed my arms against the cold. “Let’s say for argument’s sake you go back into the town. What would you buy the salt for? You think these people will just give up goods for free?”

“Well, I have a quarter.” Claire dug into her pocket and pulled out a shiny coin.

Read was shaking his head already. “They won’t have our currency. If this is near Geneva or something like that, it would be different.”

“I don’t know.” Claire threw up her hands. “You have any better ideas on defending ourselves against these things?”

“If they are witches. And let’s say salt does work,” Phoebe said out loud. She grimaced at the idea but nodded. “I’m not seeing a whole hell of a lot of choice.”

Read didn’t appear pleased with the result, and neither was I. I glanced over my shoulder to see that I could count eight rows of tombstones. “The fog is getting thicker. If we do this, we better be fast about it.”

Joel took Claire’s elbow in his good hand and pulled her along with him, back the way we came. The rest of us followed on their heels.

“Hey, but what if something happens?” I asked as we strode towards the edge of the cemetery.

Phoebe prodded me with her elbow, a humorless smile stretching across her face. “Then we run.”

“You can’t expect to walk through this challenge without running,” Cody agreed. The two of them shared the amusement. I wasn’t sure what they found so funny, but I wasn’t having a good time. Maybe it was the stress of being here. A little beguilement amongst all this horror may be what they needed.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I grumbled, rubbing my arms. My legs had sprouted with goosebumps at this point. I noticed that no one seemed that comfortable with the temperature change.

Phoebe scrunched up her face before saying, “Alright, Joel, you’re right. We’ll just get the salt. It’s better than going with nothing at all.”

Lining up along the grass at the edge of the cemetery, we all stared at Joel as his attention was fully on Claire. She smiled warmly at him, kissing him on the lips before he let her go. It was still shocking to see their affection. Without a backwards glance, Joel took long, purposeful strides into the town.

Phoebe shuffled closer to me. Taking her lead, I motioned for the others to come closer. Cody was freezing; his arm felt like ice. It took some willpower not to wiggle away from him. Claire clung to Read. Read kept glancing between us and Joel, who stalked towards the closest house, his head lowering the nearer Joel drew to the home. A single light was on inside to let us know at least not everyone was asleep. Also, I was sure it wasn’t the home of the eldest man who had warned us not to return.

Joel knocked on the front door. He still refused to turn his head in our direction as we watched with bated breath. He stood there for a long time—or maybe it just felt that way to me—before he knocked on the door again, louder this time.

I saw a flicker of light from a house across the street. The curtains moved, but otherwise there weren’t any disturbances.

The house that Joel stood at remained quiet.

“This is a bad idea,” I heard Phoebe whisper. I couldn’t agree more but kept it to myself.

Joel gave a start as the door he was in front of opened with a jerk. Collecting himself, he spoke to someone out of our sight. He kept his tone soft at least. We couldn’t see who he was talking to, but it felt like his conversation lasted an eternity.

I glanced over my shoulder at the thickening fog. I counted eight rows of tombstones instead of ten. Turning back to the scene, I saw Joel was gone. “What happened?” I whispered sharply.

“He went inside,” Phoebe answered.

The light inside cast shadows on the curtain, but it was hard to tell which was human and which was an object. Then movement revealed a struggle.

Claire gasped. “We have to help him,” she squeaked but didn’t move.

From where we stood, I could hear the shouts beginning to echo from the house.

“Let’s run,” Cody suggested.

“And leave him there?” Claire snapped.

Phoebe took a step forward. “Let’s get him out of there and—”

She never was able to finish her sentence. An explosion erupted from inside the house. It took a moment for my mind to register that the sound belonged to a rifle.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Joel!” Claire screamed and started to bolt forward. If it wasn’t for Read’s reflexes, she might have been out of our reach before any of us recovered. He caught her around the waist and lifted, swinging her back into our circle, kicking and shrieking.

The shrill rifle-shot still rang in my ears as Phoebe grabbed my arm to pull me back toward the cemetery. “We can’t let them see us,” she said, tugging furiously on my shirt. Unfastening my legs was harder than it should’ve been, but I turned with her.

Joel burst from the house, something large and heavy clutched to his chest. He started running toward us, head down, body hunched as if preparing for a tackle. Claire was the only one who waited, and Read released her to run with the rest of us.

I looked over my shoulder and nearly lost my balance.

Someone had burst from the house after Joel. A boy, he couldn’t have been older than fourteen, held a rifle in one hand and gave chase, his face twisted in fury. We weren’t as far ahead of them as I’d hoped.

Joel held a white sack under his arm like a football, catching up with Claire, who was several steps behind us.

I focused on what was in front of us just as we came upon the scarecrow.

The gunshot went off again, and I heard Claire’s scream. Phoebe and I both skidded to a stop and turned around to see Claire crumpled in the grass. Phoebe bolted past me and reached Joel as he half dragged, half carried the weeping Claire along the grass. She took Claire’s other arm, and together they picked up their pace.

I turned to start to run again when I found myself face to face with a wall of thick fog. It had built up rapidly while my back was turned. Without warning, two shadowy figures appeared in front of me, running from the fog. I held my breath, and with no time to move, I braced myself for an impact.

Read and Cody almost ran into me as they burst from the fog. Water glistened on their hair, skin, and clothes. “Jesus, that came from nowhere,” Cody gasped.

“Well get ready to run through it,” I said and took Read and Cody’s wrists. Trying to catch my breath, I commanded, “Cody, grab Phoebe. We can’t lose anyone in here—”

“Wait!” Read snapped.

I followed his gaze to see the villagers had stopped and were staring at the scarecrow just in front of me. Disgruntled, they started to back away, eyes flickering to us in disgust. Something behind us was far more dangerous.
That is a comforting idea
, I thought. Joel and Claire reached us, collapsing by the scarecrow’s wooden pole.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Her leg,” Phoebe answered. She inspected Claire’s bloodied calf as Claire groaned in protest. “Doesn’t look like anything went in, though.”

“You’re lucky,” Read said to Claire in a comforting voice.

“Why didn’t you drag her along with you?” Joel snapped.

“Because I wouldn’t have let them if they tried!” Claire pounded her fist into the grassy earth as Phoebe wrapped Cody’s shirt—which had been tied around her snake-bite from the last Challenge—around Claire’s calf.

I gasped. “Phoebe, the bite mark.” A purple circle the size of a baseball had grown around the puncture marks.

“What the hell, Phoebe?” Read growled and leaned in to check the wound above her ankle.

She explained the snake to Read, then said, “I don’t feel anything. Last Challenge, I felt the effects of the poison but not this time.”

“It sure looks like you’ve been poisoned,” Read pointed out. His eyes focused on the spidered veins that splayed up her calf, stopping halfway.

“I feel fine,” she assured him, tightening the knot.

Claire wasn’t bleeding much, at least. The bullet must have barely grazed her.

As much as I felt Read’s concern, I had to agree. She looked better this round. She wasn’t pale and sweating with the smallest exertion. “Maybe it’s this time thing. Joel hasn’t complained about his hand, either.”

Joel looked up at the sound of his name.

With the angry mob backing away, Cody whispered, “The fog.”

I followed his gaze past the scarecrow. The fog began to curl and beckon to us.

“Guys,” I said through teeth.

Joel helped Claire to her feet. “We can’t run back,” he said, glancing back at the villagers.

“We have to,” Read said, jutting a thumb over his shoulder at the fog.

Phoebe said, “I wonder if the witches can’t come further than this.”

“Probably why the villagers stopped,” Read agreed.

“But we have this now.” Joel picked up the canvas bag of salt that had fallen at his feet when he dropped Claire near us.

“If it even works,” Cody muttered.

Claire glared daggers. “It will,” she snapped. She looked for Joel, but I saw the doubt flash in her eyes for just a second.

“Right,” Phoebe said curtly. “Let’s go and get this done.”

The fog touched my skin, caressing my shoulder with an unpleasant dampness. Read cringed as the fog touched him. Cody shivered and shuffled closer to Read and Phoebe for warmth.

A high-pitched laughter echoed through the cemetery.

I took a deep breath and glanced at Phoebe to see her watching me. “Take my hand,” she said.

Without prompting, we all clasped hands as the fog rolled over us so thickly it was difficult to see who I held.

“It’s okay,” I said, my voice betraying me. “Don’t anyone let go. Just start walking.”

Read had been up the front; he had Phoebe who had me. I had Cody on my other side, and he had Claire, then Joel. In single-file, like your average kindergarten class, we shuffled forward.

The fog affected my clothes. My pajamas clung to me, my hair starting to get damp. It also affected my grip. My hands were getting wet and cold in Cody’s and Phoebe’s hands.

“Where are we going?” I heard Claire whisper.

“Ssshhhhh,” Joel and I hissed together.

We were blind here. The last thing we needed was to draw bad attention to us.

Shivering, I tried to concentrate on keeping warm, but it was impossible. The chill in the fog swept through us. I sympathized with Cody the most. If we could find a shirt for him somewhere, it would at least help.

It felt as if we hadn’t ventured far when I ran into Phoebe’s back.

Cody collided with me with a
humph
. Then I heard Claire’s startled gasp when she ran into Cody.

“What’s going on?” Cody whispered, so low in my ear it tickled.

I shrugged, then realized he couldn’t see me. I tugged at his hand to follow me as I came up to Phoebe’s side and saw what had caused the sudden halt.

The fog dropped off so suddenly it was as if by an invisible barrier. The barrier formed a wide berth around scattered tombstones that formed a circle around a large, black cauldron. Low flames and angry embers licked the bottom of the suspended cauldron. My eyes scanned the clearing, anticipating witches.

Not a sound reached my ears outside of the ragged breaths of my group. I waited on needles as the silence stretched.

When Joel spoke, he whispered but at the same time, he sounded too loud. “Let’s go around this part.”

We all knew we couldn’t. I let go of Phoebe and Cody’s hands.

“Fuller,” I heard Phoebe hiss.

Ignoring her, I stepped closer to the cauldron, hearing the bubbling and hissing from within. Inching closer, I peered over the edge to see a shiny black liquid. The foul odor wafting from the pot caused me to gag. It was like a combination of gasoline and rotten meat that permeated the air.

Wrinkling my nose, I turned back to the others. “What if this can help us?”

“Maybe
you
should try some,” Joel suggested with a rancorous smile.

I sneered at him.

“We don’t know what it is,” Read argued.

“Won’t know unless someone tries it,” Phoebe said.

Read gave her a sour glance, and so did I.

Cody searched the ground around us. “If we could find something like a jar to carry it in, we could take some with us. Maybe it will come in handy later.”

“Maybe…” Claire said covering her face with her hand. “It smells like something that could do damage.”

Joel made an exaggerated show of looking over each shoulder before asking, “Where do you think we’ll find a jar?”

Cody’s eyes narrowed defensively.

A shrill cackle above our heads startled us all.

Looking up, I saw three women plummet from the sky. Above, it was clear. Well as clear as a black sky could be. No fog touched the circle all the way up to the clouds.

I froze, hearing Phoebe shout behind me to move. Frozen, I realized I couldn’t. I didn’t think, didn’t move, didn’t react until the last second.

One of the tree witches dove straight at me.

Dropping unceremoniously to the ground in a turtle position, I covered my head with my hands.

When nothing happened, I looked up in time to see an irrationally thin woman veer her broom upward. Her eyes danced with delight as she jogged to a stop on the other side of the cauldron and hopped off of the broomstick.

Uncurling between two tombstones, I used one to help me stand. Read skidded toward me and helped steady me.

The first witch who had nearly speared me grinned. Her robes hung off her bony figure as if made for someone bigger. Her skeletal arms showed, so thin that they could have been just bone and white flesh. She lifted her broom up, using it as a walking stick. Her thinning, light-brown hair stretched back into a bun. I wondered if it was tight enough to make her eyes bug-out like that or if that was natural. She licked her chapped thin lips and studied us.

A shorter, plump witch stepped past the tall, narrow one, her dark eyes never passing over us. “You have trespassed onto our territory.” She scrutinized the contents of her cauldron pot as if we somehow tampered with it.

I glanced at my friends, hesitating before I said, “I’m sorry. The villagers chased us here.” My eyes caught Joel as he held the bag of salt behind his back.

“Villagers?” the third witch asked in a smooth, sultry voice. She had wild red curls that fell down to her waist. Smooth tempered and tanned, her skin looked digitally remastered.

None of the witches appeared to be any older than thirty.

“You poor children,” the skinny witch cooed. “Where are the villagers now?”

Phoebe spoke up, and I wished she hadn’t. “They stopped chasing us.”

“Oh?” The skinny one sounded clearly amused.

Phoebe cleared her throat. “Yes. At the scarecrow. We didn’t know we were trespassing when we came into the fog.”

“Oh?” the skinny witch repeated. She took a few steps towards us, a heavy limp revealing itself as she relied on the broom to keep from toppling to the side. She squinted her buggy-eyes at us. Could it be that our witch was near-sighted?

“The scarecrow?” the shorter one asked and chuckled. “I see our mortal example is still holding strong.”

The redhead chuckled, sounding musical and enchanting.

Phoebe cracked her knuckles. “We’re looking for a few things.”

“Mmmhmm.” The bug-eyed witch wrung her knotted hands together. For such a youthful face—no matter how ugly—her liver-spotted hands had knuckles far larger than they should be. “Well.” The witch straightened herself and glanced over her shoulder at her sisters. “Perhaps we could help.”

The plump witch nodded, jowls wobbling in her renewed excitement. “So many secrets.” She slipped around the cauldron to get a better look at us.

I didn’t like how she said it. It was like a threat rather than an observation.

“Secrets?” Joel asked. He didn’t hide his curiosity as he pointed brazenly towards me. “Can you tell us some of them?”

“Joel,” I hissed. “This isn’t the time. We need to find the way outta here.”

The redheaded witch clapped her hands, catching my attention. A disturbing smile peeled her full red lips from white teeth. “I know where the door is.”

“You do?” Phoebe asked. She glanced at me. “Where? We’ll go find it and get out of your…territory.”

The pretty witch shook her head, clucking her tongue in disapproval.

“You cannot do that,” the plump witch agreed with a chuckle. “Can they, Atropos?” She glanced over to the skinny witch.

Atropos answered with a yellow smile and adjusted her grip on the staff/upside-down broom.

“So, then what?” Phoebe demanded.

The plump witch stepped back to her cauldron. She peered down into the bubbling dark liquid before answering. “You cannot leave until you know the truth.”

The red witch gasped and placed a hand to her mouth. It was then that I noticed the silver glitter on her finger. Cody noticed the ring at the same time as me and nudged me in the ribs.

At first I thought the pretty witch was mocking us, but after several seconds of her holding the pose, I recognized the genuine shock. “Lachesis,” she said and stepped toward the plump witch. She whispered in the woman’s ear for several seconds, putting the rest of us at unease.

BOOK: The Haunting
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