The Killin' Fields (Alexa's Travels Book 2) (31 page)

Billy wished he’d kept his mouth shut, but he was also glad for the chance to do something good, big, or even perfect for her.

Edward was the last one through the door and he gently shut it behind him, sure that if they needed to leave it open, Alexa would have told him so. She’d been training them to close doors, windows, and other tell-tale exits and entrances.

As soon as the door shut, the rats rushed toward Billy, running up his legs, biting and scratching as he stomped to the closest door. When he made it to the stairs, the rats slowly faded into the ground as if they’d never been there.

“How does she keep doing that?” David muttered. “She’d need a solid block of energy to be able to…” David’s face transformed into a rage that made Jacob retreat a step to be out of the danger path.

“The kids.”

Alexa, who’d already figured it out, nodded at him. “We’ll handle it. Now.”

Alexa assigned each of them to a different door and when she dropped her hand, all of them turned the knobs and stepped through.

The sight of that wall of bodies said they’d been sent back to the beginning and Alexa glanced around for her missing man.

“Edward’s door. Let’s go,” she instructed.

They were reunited with Edward a minute later, in the courtyard they’d expected the first time.

The house hadn’t changed, though. It was as wrong as it had been on first view.

The House in the Corn

1

To the far right of the old mausoleum was a large copse of trees. The two wide trees in the front of this grove had branches that had almost grown together and blocked the entrance.

Mark and Billy were forced to veer to the left of these trees as three large wolves rushed them. Firing as they jumped and darted, the men ran toward the nearest part of the house to them-the rear porch. Covered in thick green vines and crusty water spots, the wooden porch shuddered as the fighters stomped up the short stairs and yanked open the screen door.

Billy slammed it shut behind Edward, and fired through the filthy screen, hitting the wolf about to come straight through the flimsy mesh. He fired again, wounding the second animal and the other animals turned tail toward the cover of the corn.

“I think we’re okay for a minute,” Billy gasped out, trying to control his breath as he reloaded.

“Um, Bill?”

Mark’s tone kept Billy’s fingers moving fast.

Edward grimaced as the wolf snarled, tensing for the leap. He was too close for a straight aim and he dropped to his knees as he fired.

Billy’s shot went through the wolf’s eye. Edward’s tore its throat open, and blood rained onto the wooden slats like a flood.

Edward shoved the gory carcass off of his legs and joined Billy at the door. “I’m really starting to get the feeling we’re not wanted here,” Billy cracked.

“You too, huh?” Edward grinned back, preparing to kick the door open while Billy covered him. “I thought it was just me they didn’t like.”

Billy nodded once, indicating that he was set, and Edward used a large part of his strength to kick with, shattering the lock on the door. It banged against the frame with a thick crack and then slowly swung open with a haunted screech that echoed to all corners of the huge house.

Edward sighed. “So much for not knowing exactly where we are.”

Billy shrugged, stepping into the old kitchen. “Won’t matter in the end.”

“No,” Edward agreed, now covering Billy as he moved farther into the wide room. “No, it won’t.”

The kitchen looked straight out of a history book or a painting. The old stove used the moldy wood stacked nearby, and the sink was filled with buckets from the well they had run by. The long tables were designed to hold massive amounts of food that would have been taken out to serve the partiers, carried by dozens of maids.
Or slaves
, Mark thought, noticing a riding crop propped by the double swinging doors. It was a harmless object until you asked what it was doing in the kitchen and then the use became clear.

“An old plantation?” Billy asked, voice barely audible. He almost expected to see the slave women, the ghosts, come from the giant pantry that took up an entire wall. The cabinet should have held dishes and serving items, but Billy had already spotted the long-dried red drops on the floor in front of it.

“Someone’s in there,” Edward stated. He’d noticed the same things as Billy, but also a dusty footprint.

Billy reached for the handle, confident that Edward had him covered. He opened the pantry, braced to see bodies.

“Don’t hit me no mo’!”

Billy jumped, startled, and Edward’s finger nearly pulled the trigger anyway.

The woman was old, short, and black, wearing a white cook’s uniform covered in bloody streaks. She peered up at them from the bottom of the pantry, one eye black and one eye brown, long gray hair full of dirt. On her wrists and ankles were thick scars, signs of her abuse, and compassion overwhelmed the fighters.

Billy knelt down. “Are you okay?”

The cook shuddered, mouth opening to reveal missing and chipped teeth. “Y-yes, master.”

Billy scowled. “I’m not your master.”

Edward sensed the driver’s revulsion and knelt down. “We’re letting you go, helping you. Can you walk?”

They weren’t sure for a minute if she was going to scream or cry. Her face changed emotions so many times that it made the two men a bit dizzy.

“I’ll cook for you!” the slave blurted finally. “To pay you! Master’s gone. She won’t know.”

To their surprise, the little black woman climbed from the pantry as if she’d done it often and started pulling down pots and gathering utensils.

“Will cook you up big thanks!” she cackled, causing the two fighters to eye her warily.

Billy flashed a question to Mark:
What should we do?

Edward wasn’t sure. Information was handy in an unfamiliar area. Alexa was teaching them to find the locals, and what would be more local than the cook of the house?

“We’d be happy to eat a fast meal,” Edward said finally, taking a seat at the table. “But if we hear gunfire, we’ll have to run, you understand?”

The cook shrugged. “Not upstairs. The dog guards it too well. Better to stay right here, my pets.”

The woman’s speech was slowly becoming something else and the shade of her skin-that deep ebony-was lightening even as they watched.

“Is this real?” Billy asked suddenly, feeling a little dizzy.

“Of course, my friends!” the cook bellowed. “All is real in the house in the corn.”

“What can you tell us about the master of the house?” Edward questioned, nodding thanks at the cup of tea the cook put in front of him. Billy already had one and neither man was sure how she’d heated the water so fast, but it was steaming and stinking wonderfully.

“Oh, a hard one! Better to stay down here, with me, my friends! I fed you well.”

The table was now heaped with temptations, the ripe-smelling kind that these men hadn’t seen or scented in long years. Mashed potatoes with roasted chicken, pumpkin and apple pies, pudding, stuffing, greens. It was a holiday feast that brought all rational thought to a stop as hunger took control.

“Whoa,” Billy remarked, fighting to control his hands. They wanted to rip off that chicken leg, scoop up a handful of stuffing, and demonstrate that yes, men really are pigs.

Edward had skipped their last meal, mind on how to help Alexa once Paul was left behind, and his guts growled noisily. “Yeah.”

The cook viewed them with glittering, evil orbs, but neither man had attention for her. The sight of so much food was almost confusing.

“Can we take it with us?” Edward finally asked, fighting the spell. “We have friends we’d like to share it with.”

The cook cracked an eager grin that now revealed a mouthful of sharp fangs. “Sure, sure! But try it first, my friends! Just a bite.”

Billy saw his hand go out and rip off the chicken leg. It slipped and burnt, like a real meal would, and he laughed. “It’s good, right?”

Edward had the pumpkin pie in one hand and a fork in the other, face flushed. “We should make sure.”

Billy chuckled in agreement and both men brought the food to their mouths.

“Now!” Edward forced out around the smell that claimed to be the best taste he’d ever had.

Billy tossed the chicken leg at the cook and both men drew their guns.

The food hit the floor and burst into moldy corn that ran with weevils.

Edward opened fire before the cook could recover, shooting twice, and the women was knocked against the stove in the impact. Her hair landed in the flames and it caught quickly, running up to her hair where she tried to slap it out.

Edward’s bullets had hit her in the chest, but all the men could see of them was a single dark round stain on her white uniform. The fire however, killed her. She went down in flames, screeching like a banshee, and they let her burn.

Wary of the noise and still feeling like he was under a spell, Edward motioned Billy to the blind side of the double doors and took the opposite area for himself.

“It’s wearing off,” Billy commented, now feeling like he may never be hungry again. The table of holiday sustenance had become what it really was all along and the piles of body parts were sickening on every level. Bowls of fingers, a platter of legs too large to be chicken and too small to be adult, a tray of bloody cookies. It was revolting.

“What is this place?” Billy gasped out, sure he was about to be sick.

“A house of death,” Edward answered, pulling his bandana up over his nose. Now that the glam was fading, the smells in this kitchen were that of a slaughterhouse and the smoldering cook didn’t help.

“Let’s get—”

Gunshots split the air, echoing harshly inside the enormous house.

“Alexa!” Edward realized. She’d been at the front door… Full memory returned in a slap.

“Come on!” he ordered, pushing through the doors.

Gagging, Billy went gratefully.

2

Alexa and Jacob kicked in the front doors and David and Daniel shut them, using their weight to keep them that way as wolf after wolf tried to hurl through.

“Find something to block them!” David called. “The lock’s too broken to hold.”

Alexa grabbed a floor lamp from the lounge-like area and smacked it against the floor hard enough to break off the top end. She shoved it through the handles of the large front doors and her fighters were able to let go and stand up.

The first thing all of them did was to stay still and scan the room for trouble. It was a large, clean tile floor at the base of an enormous, winding staircase. On each side of the stairs were two dark shadowy places that seemed to hide doors to other rooms.

“Which way?” Daniel asked, eager to find their missing men.

Alexa pointed at the stairs. “The boss is always high.”

The men might have snickered at the video game reference if the situation hadn’t been so serious. They didn’t care for being sent against the boss without two of their fighters, but none of them hesitated to go up those gaudily decorated stairs.

Alexa sensed the trap, but they were already too far up to evade it. She holstered her gun and grabbed a rail as the ground rumbled.

“Hang on. We’re going for a ride!”

The men barely had time to follow her lead before the stairs dropped out, leaving them dangling above a black void.

“Shit!” David complained. “Shit! Drop or climb?”

“Neither,” Daniel answered, studying Alexa. “Jump.”

David saw Alexa picking her falling position, and groaned. “Okay, great.”

Alexa let go of the cracking rail and sailed into the darkness without a word.

Her loyal men followed, leaving David to stare into the abyss with fear. But he wasn’t his own anymore. He belonged to Alexa now and there was no going back.

The blacksmith closed his eyes and let go of the railing.

It felt like he fell for a very long time. David heard the floor, the grand staircase replacing itself above him, but he couldn’t see it. It was a fall in blackness and he wasn’t sure how he kept from screaming.

“Everyone here?”

Alexa voice below calmed him and David tried to master his true emotions before he landed. He peered downward, trying to get a glimpse of what he would hit, and felt himself come to a jarring, cold stop in water up to his waist.

David wiped away the splash, wondering why he hadn’t heard the others, and he let Daniel pull him to his feet. That crazy man was grinning from ear to ear, face alive with danger and mysteries revealed.

“I was too screwed up to enjoy the fall the first time,” he explained, wiping at his own face. “It was great.”

David hadn’t known that was how Daniel had died, only that he had and Alexa had brought him back. David knew it hadn’t been magic exactly, but an accelerated form of healing. He’d heard of it over a card game and hadn’t been sure he truly believed the grifter telling him. They’d discussed many things that night and Safe Haven had been among them. The rumors of a descendant, of a new group of safety coming through, had bent many ears in the bar after the sun had gone down.

David looked around to discover that he was almost alone again and he hurried to catch up to his group. The swampy area appeared to be exactly that, as if they’d left the ground floor and found the Florida Keys at night instead of a basement. It was spooky.