Gray's Domain: Purgatorium Series, Book Two (9 page)

“Great!” He fist bumped her. “Get changed into better shoes—good for running—and meet up at the jeeps in half an hour.”

Her heart thumped with anticipation as the group of trail riders journeyed in the jeeps to the stables. As she pulled her new scarf lower on her forehead, her fingers were literally shaking with excitement. Vince and Dave rode with her and Cam, while Bridget, Giovanni, and Philip rode with Roger. Kelly met them at the gate as Roger drove off.

Daphne wondered why Roger always drove to each excursion. Surely someone else participating in the trail ride could drive and save him the time. Daphne’s thoughts were soon interrupted, however, when Kelly asked her to mount a red mare named Scout. A little wave of excitement shot through her veins. Giovanni was riding
Pearl
.

Scout was drastically different from Pearl. Where Pearl bit and fidgeted and constantly vied for the position near the front, Scout seemed to know her place, and that was near the end of the line. Daphne said as much to Cam, who replied in a whisper that Pearl was trained to be aggressive, in order to make her rider nervous. Daphne’s mouth dropped open. Cam winked.

At the top of Mount Diablo, the group gazed out at the beautiful sea, searching for humpbacks. Daphne sipped on her water bottle, enjoying herself so much more this time around. She took in the fresh sea air, listened to the song of the gulls flying overhead, and clapped her hands when two humpbacks finally showed themselves. Yet, despite her enjoyment, she felt uneasy for Giovanni. She hoped he wouldn’t get bucked off as she had.

Bridget seemed to have no trouble giving Giovanni her attention and charm, and Daphne was surprised by Cam’s indifference. She supposed he knew it was just an act and wasn’t threatened by it.

Dave, as always, entertained them with an ongoing monologue that was hit or miss in the humor department. Daphne did have to laugh when he told Vince he looked like a skinny Shrek on a fat Donkey.

Her heart picked up speed as they began their descent down the mountain, and Pearl, as if on cue, refused to cooperate for Giovanni. Daphne glanced back at the poor guy, who repeatedly shouted, “Giddy-up, girl!”

Cam nudged her with his boot and said softly, “Follow me.”

Kelly led them at a trot down the mountain. Though the fast pace was exuberating, Daphne clung to the saddle horn. They topped the canyon ridge over Central Valley where Roger was waiting in his jeep. Cam, Vince, and Dave dismounted, waving to her to do the same, and handed their reins over to Kelly, Philip, and Bridget. Daphne and the three boys then squeezed into the jeep with Roger.

So Roger drove so he could be on standby for the watchers?

“Where are we going?” she asked, hemmed in between Cam and Vince in the backseat.

“The west side of the island,” Cam said.

“The haunted side,” Roger added with a wink.

Roger drove them along the canyon ridge past the resort, around Central Valley toward the base of Sierra Blanca where they came upon a sign on a wooden post that read, “Chumash Ruins/Christy Ranch” with an arrow pointing right and “Sierra Blanca” with an arrow pointing left. Roger passed the sign and parked the jeep behind a massive grotto.

“Now, you’ve got to be stone quiet,” Cam warned. “Just stay behind me and do what I do.”

Daphne nodded, her heart beating fast. She couldn’t wait to discover what would happen next.

They hiked down the bluff, where the grass was as high as Daphne’s hips. Like leopards in the Serengeti, they crouched and crept stealthily toward what Daphne now realized was Stan’s orange and gray dome tent. They stopped about thirty feet away from it.

Cam whispered, “This is where we were when you finally decided to go to the tent.”

Dave chuckled. “You had us nervous.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Looked like you weren’t going for it,” Dave explained. “One of us almost had to enter the game.”

“There he is,” Roger said, pointing. “Hold still.”

Pearl galloped like a horse from the gate in a race for the win as Giovanni hung on for dear life. When the horse reached the tent, it came to a halt and snorted.

Stan emerged and grabbed Pearl’s reins. “Whoa, girl.”

“Thank God,” the boy said breathlessly.

“That’s a good girl.” Stan slipped a treat into her mouth. “What happened, man?” he asked Giovanni.

He fought for his breath. “I got left behind by the group. And then this horse went crazy on me.” Giovanni dismounted and took several steps away from Pearl.

“Sorry to hear that, kiddo.”

“Can you help me find my way back?” Giovanni sounded urgent.

“Sure, sure. No problem.” Stan tied Pearl to the nearest tree.  “They’re probably looking for you. Why don’t we give them time to find you, and if they don’t in the next hour, I’ll pack up my camp and guide you back?”

“Thanks, man.” Giovanni followed Stan into the tent.

Cam turned to Daphne. “Now we get to have some fun. Come on.”

They crept to the tree and untied Pearl.

At that moment, an island fox scurried down the rocks across the valley toward the tent.

“Hold on,” Daphne whispered. “Is that Mini-me?”

“Yep,” Roger answered. “Wave as you pass by the little fella. The doc will get a kick out of it.”

With Pearl in tow, the group ran past the tent, down the grassy hill, each giving the fox a friendly wave. It was fun to be part of this elaborate plan—whatever it was. They heard Giovanni’s shouts about the horse getting away as they rounded a boulder. Adrenaline surged through her when Christy Ranch came into view. The bunkhouse, bridge, and ranch house looked exactly as they had a few days ago.
Although she was excited and having fun, seeing the place again gave Daphne the willies.

They crossed Haunted Bridge, the ravine below deeper than Daphne had imagined. Vince took Pearl around the back as the others entered the farmhouse. Daphne was amazed by what she found inside. People, props, a wardrobe, chairs and mirrors—all resembling the bustling backstage of a Broadway theater. Bridget, Gregory, and Emma were there as well as Pete and another man in his thirties whom Daphne had not yet met. Cam introduced him as Marty and explained he was the make-up artist and acting coach.

“How would you like to enter the game, young lady?” Marty asked, motioning for her to sit in the dressing-room style chair he was standing beside.

“I thought
I
was going in this time,” Dave complained.

“Dr. Gray just called and said to let Daphne have a turn, if she wants,” Pete said. He turned to Daphne. “You’d basically go in doing what I did during your therapy—scary face in the window tonight, and then scared-out-of your-mind runaway in the morning.”

“Think you can handle that?” Marty asked with a smile.

Daphne glanced at Cam.

“You’d have a blast,” he said with an encouraging nod. “It’s up to you, though.”

“What if I mess up?” she asked.

“Heavens no,” Marty said. “That won’t happen.”

“Marty will give you some tips,” Emma chimed in. “He’s a great coach.”

“We’ve all learned from him,” Cam said.

The somewhat effeminate make-up artist took a slight bow.
“At your service, dearie.”

Roger stepped toward her. “You can’t really mess up in this here game, Daphne, unless you break the illusion. There’s no right or wrong other than that one rule.
Alright?”

“Alright,” she said.

“Think you’re ready?” Greg asked.

How could she not give it a try? It was like entering the most amazing amusement park on the face of the earth. “I think so.”

“If you lose your confidence, you can always run away and come back here,” Marty assured her. “We can send someone else in, then.”

“Like me,” said Dave, who was obviously eager to go into the game himself.

“Well?” Bridget asked her.

Everyone looked at Daphne expectantly.

“I’ll do it,” she said.

While Emma and Bridget combed through the wardrobe for the right dingy clothes for her to wear, Marty created the illusion of dark circles beneath Daphne’s eyes. He also added white powder to make her look dusty and dirty.

“Put your bracelet in your pocket for now,” he told her. “It will give you away.”

Bridget underwent a similar transformation, as Emma and Cam helped her into a white Victorian-style dress.

“You were the ghost!” Daphne said as Marty put the finishing touches on her face.

“That’s me,” Bridget said, smiling. “Though we take turns—Emma and I.”

After Daphne’s costume was complete—raggedy jeans that were a bit too big and a grimy t-shirt (plus her new scarf, which she refused to remove)—Marty and the others gave her acting tips.

“You haven’t eaten for two full days, and you’re famished,” Marty said. “You’re also scared out of your mind because you fear for your life.”

“Show her how to do the shakes,” Roger instructed Pete.

Pete transformed into the terrified man she had met the morning after she had stayed in the bunkhouse. “You don’t want to go overboard. Just a little shaky, like you’re too weak to keep yourself stable.”

Everyone there showed her how they had played the same part she was about to take on, and they laughed at one another, going in and out of character. Daphne had never been around a more fun and exhilarating group of people.

“Stan just twisted his ankle,” Vince said from the window, where he stood with binoculars. “Giovanni is taking the backpack to the bunkhouse.”

The energy in the room was incredible.

“You’ll enter the game at dusk,” Roger said. “Why don’t we eat while we wait?”

The group then set about pulling food from the fridge in the kitchen, just off the main room: lunchmeat, cheeses, condiments, sliced tomatoes and cucumbers, and big hoagie buns. They had sandwiches with chips and dips and cut up fruit and veggies. Pete brewed a pot of tea and a pot of coffee. Someone—maybe Vince—turned on a television monitor in the living room where they could all see what was going on in the bunkhouse. Stan was manipulating Giovanni into opening up by first talking about his own problems.

When dusk finally came, Daphne was eager to get started.

Roger put a fatherly hand on her shoulder. “If you get caught tonight, just improvise.”

“Get caught?” she asked.

“Sometimes they stay inside and cower in fear, and sometimes they come after you,” he explained, dropping his hand. “Everyone’s different.”

“Just don’t break character,” Marty said.

“And no matter what happens,” Pete said, “do not admit it’s a game. You never want to break the illusion.”

Everyone in the room exchanged uneasy glances at Pete’s warning.

“What would happen if I did?” Daphne asked, uneasy now herself.

“Never mind that,” Roger said. “Just have fun with it, okay?”

Daphne glanced at Cam, who gave her a reassuring smile. “You’ll do great.”

“Your mission is to be seen in the window,” Pete instructed. “Make a little noise so he’ll look your way. Then duck and come back here.”

“That’s when I’ll take over,” Bridget said.

“There are steps near the bridge,” Cam added. “You can hide in the ravine if he comes after you.”

“There’s a tunnel from there that will bring you back here,” Pete said.

“Maybe we should show it to her first,” Cam said. “She’s never seen it.”

“Make it quick,” Roger said. “Dusk is falling.”

“A tunnel?”
Daphne didn’t like the sound of that.

“I’ll show her,” Dave offered.

Daphne followed him to the back of the house. They stepped outside past Pearl to a cellar door, which Dave pulled open before switching on a light.

“You don’t have to show me,” she said. “I don’t need to see it.”

“Come on,” he insisted.

She followed him down the steps into a cellar and then through another door leading to a dark tunnel.

“This goes all the way to the ravine,” Dave said. “It’s a straight shot.”

She shivered. “
It’s pitch dark in there.”

It also smelled damp and moldy.

“You’ll have a flashlight with you,” he said. “But if you’re too scared, just say the word, and I’ll take your place.”

“You enjoy this, don’t you,” she said as he closed the tunnel door and she followed him from the cellar.

“Oh, yeah.”

She was glad to be outside in the fresh air and wide, open space again. She took a deep breath.

They returned to the house to find Bridget in full make-up—powdery white from head to toe. “Ready?” she asked Daphne.

“Ready.”

Gregory gave her a flashlight, and, as the two girls left the farmhouse, the others called out, “Break a leg!”

Along with dusk, a chill had enveloped the island. Daphne and Bridget ran across the grass to Haunted Bridge and giggled together as they crossed the deep ravine.