The Magnificent Lizzie Brown and the Devil's Hound (8 page)

“Should have expected that, really,” Malachy said. He tested the padlock, which was locked fast.

Lizzie looked up at the spikes topping the gate. “I don't fancy going over that. I'd be skewered. Should we turn back?”

“Give up that easily?” Dru said. “Never! Allow me.” He sidled along to a section of wall. It was higher than the top of his head, but Lizzie knew Dru could climb it with ease. Sure enough, he took a few steps backward and then ran at it. A powerful leap, a scuff of boot on the stone, and next second his outstretched hands caught the top of the wall. He dangled for a moment, then pulled himself up using just the strength in his arms. A few swinging kicks brought his legs up, and then he was straddling the wall, smiling down at them.

“Good view from up there?” Lizzie teased.

“
Très belle!
” Dru replied cheerfully. “Malachy, pass me up your stick,
s'il vous plaît
. It's a little lonely up on this wall all by myself. I think you should join me.”

Lizzie let Malachy go first. By grabbing the outstretched stick, he was able to clamber his way up. His bad foot made the climb difficult, but Lizzie knew better than to offer him a hand. He never let it get in the way of doing what he wanted to do. An offer of help would have been insulting — and unnecessary.

“Up you come, slowpoke,” Malachy called down.

A few moments of scrambling later, the three of them were looking over the cemetery like owls brooding on a rafter. Lizzie thought of Nora and Erin, snug in their bunks by now, and wondered if they were lying awake worrying about her. If they could see what she was seeing, they wouldn't sleep a wink, that was for sure.

Stone monuments rose out of the earth — angels with blank eyes and sorrowful faces holding skulls in their hands; mournful shrouded figures looming over the graves; indistinct shapes casting deformed shadows in the moonlight. The headstones looked as white as exposed bones, and mist was creeping through the trees, veiling the ground in a gauzy shroud.

It's just like my vision
, Lizzie thought with a shudder.

“Brrr,” Malachy said. “Chilly out here, isn't it?” He rubbed his arms, which were covered in goose bumps.

“We'd better get down there,” Lizzie said. “Everyone ready?”

They hesitated for a moment. Once they dropped down onto the ground on the other side of the wall, there would be no easy way out. They'd be trapped in there with anything else that might be roaming around the graveyard.

Lizzie took a deep breath, lowered herself down until she was hanging by her hands, then dropped the rest of the way. Dru and Malachy followed, not saying a word.

Slowly, one cautious step at a time, they explored the cemetery. Instead of keeping to the paths where they might be seen, they moved between the burial plots. Lizzie had to fight the urge to apologize every time she stepped over one of the graves.

“What are we looking for?” whispered Malachy.

“We'll know when we find it,” Lizzie assured him.

Warily Lizzie approached a huge tomb with marble wreaths on all four corners. It wasn't the sort of tomb that only held one person. There would be a whole family in there, stacked on the shelves in their coffins.

Lizzie's breath caught in her throat as she saw a hooded form beyond the tomb, waiting silently in the moonlight. Then she relaxed again. It was only another carved angel, its hands covering its face.

“Here's a fresh one,” Malachy said, beckoning her over. It was a humble grave, nothing more than a mound of recently dug earth with a simple wooden cross as its marker. Somehow it didn't seem as threatening as the rest of the cemetery. It felt peaceful, though sad.

Lizzie read the painted letters on the cross. “Jacob Hayward, Farmer of this Parish.” She felt cold as she saw the date of his death. It was three days ago.

This was Becky's father's grave.

Lizzie touched the horse brass in her pocket, then quickly pulled her hand away. She had to do something before she left, but what?

While the others searched, Lizzie picked a small flower from the bushes growing wildly nearby and laid it on top of the grave. “There you go, sir. Rest in peace. Becky sends her love.”

As she walked away, Lizzie suddenly realized she was on her own. There was no sign of Dru and Malachy. She listened for the sound of Malachy's stick, but the only noise was the rustling of leaves.

“Dru?” Lizzie called. She headed onto the path beside a tall black headstone. “Mal?”

From somewhere nearby came a scratching sound, like long nails dragging across wood. It was the sound someone would make if they were trying to scrape their way out of a coffin.

Lizzie felt her heart thumping painfully behind her ribcage. Had someone been buried alive? She approached a low tomb. There it was again —
skritch-scratch
. “H-hello?” she stammered.

Something leaped up from behind the tomb, all pale face and grasping hands. Lizzie shrieked as it came for her.

“Boo!” it said and burst out laughing.

Lizzie clenched her fists, panting in shock. “Don't do that, Dru! God, you nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“You should have seen the look on your face,” Dru said, still laughing. He fell over into a shrub as Lizzie gave him a shove from behind.

Dru picked his way out, shaking leaves from his hair. “Okay, I deserved that.”

“Yes, you did, you idiot,” Lizzie snapped.

They heard the
tap-scrape, tap-scrape
of Malachy coming closer. “Nothing over here,” he called softly to them. “Just graves, moths, and a bat or two.”

“Then I guess we can leave,” Dru said, shrugging. “Have you seen enough now, Lizzie?”

Lizzie froze. Malachy was standing still looking at her. So why could she still hear the scrape of his club foot on the gravel? “Listen!” she hissed.

Moments passed. They could all hear it now.
Scrape. Rattle. Scrape.

Malachy listened carefully, then turned in a new direction. He motioned for them to follow. The noise grew louder as they came closer to whatever was making it.

“Sounds like digging,” Lizzie whispered.

“Exactly,” said Dru.

“Digging a new grave, maybe?” Lizzie suggested.

“In the middle of the night?” Malachy shook his head. “Unlikely. Get down. We'll hide behind this tomb.”

They all pressed themselves up against the cold marble and moved as close as they dared. The sound of digging was very close. They must be right on top of it now. From behind the tomb, a ghostly light was flickering.

Lizzie peered around the corner. By the feeble light of a shuttered lantern dangling from an angel's hand, she saw two shadowy figures. Were they even human? She strained to see closer.

From the bushes, something howled. It moved. Lizzie glimpsed dark fur, a flash of yellowish eyes, and the glint of snarling teeth.

Lizzie couldn't move. Sheer terror had locked every muscle in her body.

The creature loped out in front of the lantern, and a massive shadow loomed before her. If it was a dog, and not some kind of wolf, it was the largest one she'd ever seen. It looked like something from prehistoric times, a hideous memory surging back to life.

The animal howled again, then turned its head toward where Lizzie was hidden. It bared its teeth and crouched, ready to spring.

Much too late, Lizzie knew Erin and Nora had been right. The thing that haunted the cemetery, the beast they'd tried to warn her about, was real. And now she was face to face with the Devil's Hound!

Dru grabbed her hand. “Lizzie, run!”

She ran. Together they sprinted through the cemetery, leaping over the graves and ducking beneath tree branches. Lizzie glanced back to see if Malachy was following and saw him hobbling along as fast as he could, gasping as he struggled to get away from the beast at the graveside.

Behind him, the monstrous dog emerged from the shadows. It howled again.

That's three times
, Lizzie thought.
If Ma Sullivan's right, it'll come for my soul.
“We should never have come here!” she cried, clinging tight to Dru's hand. “There are things here we shouldn't have stirred up!”

“Save your breath for running!” Dru replied.

They ran alongside a long hedge, past marble monuments and urns on pedestals. For a moment, Lizzie thought they'd escaped the hound. But then, from close behind, came a long rattling snarl and three sharp barks.

Lizzie didn't dare to look around again. She just ran for her life.

“This way!” Dru shouted. He pulled her to the left, and then they were running downhill, past the low burial plots they'd seen before. Lizzie's chest ached, and her throat was raw from the chilly night air.

“There's the gate,” said Dru. “That's where we came in. We're nearly out!”

The hound barked again, much closer this time. It was coming for them. Heavy paws pounded on the gravel path.

“Keep running!” Malachy yelled. “Don't stop!”

Dru let go of Lizzie's hand. Putting on a burst of speed, he ran toward the wall like an athlete approaching a high jump. In a single leap, he grabbed the top of the wall with both hands. He hauled himself up with the strength of his arms until he was able to swing a leg over the top and sit securely. “Lizzie, jump!” he called, reaching out to her. “I'll catch you.”

“Well I hope so,” Lizzie gasped. The downhill sprint meant she was half running, half falling. She tried to speed up as Dru had done, thinking she'd launch herself at the wall. But her legs were suddenly a confused jumble, and the next thing she knew, she'd tripped over a pot of roses someone had left on a grave.

Lizzie stumbled and fell forward. Her arms came down on sharp gravel and her knee on the rough ground. She tried to stop, but she was rolling over and over, helpless as a rag doll, as she tumbled down the hill.

Stunned and dizzy, Lizzie struggled back to her feet. She'd landed at the foot of the wall. Where was Malachy? She turned around to look — and there was the hound, only feet away, all teeth and bristling fur, coming at her. It leaped, gaping jaws lunging at her throat.

Lizzie screamed. In that moment of cold terror, she suddenly understood why the scream she'd heard in her vision had sounded so familiar.
I heard myself scream
, she thought.
It was me dying.

She could feel hot breath on her face, but in the next second, the dog's snarl turned into a startled yelp. Something whacked it from the side. “Get away, you brute!” yelled a familiar voice. “Go on, get out of it!”

“Malachy?” Lizzie gasped.

Brandishing his stick in both hands, Malachy charged at the hound. “Bad dog!”

The animal scrabbled away from him, turned, and snarled, crouching low on its front paws. Malachy swung his stick in a wide arc, keeping it at bay.

From somewhere in the distance came the shouts of angry men. A lantern was swinging through the trees up on the crest of the hill.

“Lizzie, get up here, quick!” Dru shouted, holding his hand out.

Lizzie grabbed ahold of her friend and scrambled up the wall as Dru pulled with all his might. She almost jumped down the other side, before it struck her that Malachy might still need help.

Malachy backed toward the wall, jabbing his stick at the snarling dog. He glanced up at Dru. “You ready?”

“Come on!” yelled Dru.

Malachy shoved the stick upward. As the dog came racing toward him, Dru caught hold of it and pulled. Lizzie threw her arms around Dru's waist, keeping him securely on top of the wall, while Dru pulled Malachy all the way up to their level.

The dog's snapping jaws caught Malachy's boot. He kicked hard, but the animal's teeth sank in and locked like a vice. Lizzie and Dru pulled with all their strength.

“Get off me!” Malachy shrieked.

The lantern swung to point in their direction. Lizzie heard gruff voices shouting, and whoever was holding it began to run.

Suddenly Malachy's boot came off, and he came free with such force the three of them almost fell off the wall.

“I'm okay,” Malachy panted, settling down between them. Lizzie patted him on the back, feeling grateful for his bravery. Down below, the dog tore and ripped at the boot, pulling it to pieces.

“I think we're about to have company,” Malachy said, glancing at the approaching figures. “Should we wait and see who it is?”

“I've had enough nasty surprises for one night,” Lizzie said. “Let's go.”

They hurried back along the road, with Malachy moving even slower than usual thanks to his bootless good foot. From behind the cemetery wall came a long, mournful howl. They picked up their pace, eager to put as much distance between them and the Devil's Hound as they could.

* * *

“There's a light on in the tea tent,” Malachy pointed out as they drew near to the circus once again. “What's Ma Sullivan doing up at this hour?”

“Let's go see. I could go for a cup of tea.” Lizzie rubbed her hands together.

But it wasn't Ma Sullivan who was waiting for them. It was Nora, Erin, and Hari, huddled around three cups of steaming tea, playing cards by the light of an oil lantern. Nora jumped up and hugged Lizzie as she came in. “Oh, thank goodness. You're safe.”

“None of us could sleep, so we decided to wait up for you,” Hari explained.

“We heard howling,” Erin said, “and Nora thought you were dead for sure.”

Nora pushed her. “You thought so too, Erin.”

“She was crying like a baby—” Erin broke off as she saw the look on Lizzie's face. “What happened? You look like death!”

Malachy sat down. “Get us a drink, and I'll tell you all about it.”

The twins obliged, and Malachy explained everything that had happened. The others listened like wide-eyed children being told a ghost story around a fire.