Mary Hades (7 page)

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Authors: Sarah Dalton

BOOK: Mary Hades
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I see t
he fairground workers run towards the control booth and I know that this is very real. If we don’t act, we’ll be thrown out of our seats and halfway across the fairground.

I know what to d
o. I know what we both have to do.

Let go.

“We have to jump,” I shout.

“What?” Seth replies.

“Jump! Now!”

This is our
chance. We’re maybe ten feet from the ground. We could get hurt but not die.

I pull him up as hard as I can. Seth pushes himself higher until we’re on our feet. The world blurs around us. I glance to him, our eyes lock, and we jump.

Weightless. A moment of pure freedom.

And then the crushing ground.
The cold scrape of compacted dirt on my cheeks.

But Seth is next to me, and our hand
s are still entwined.

Chapter Seven

 

 

One moment bright stars, the next the blinking strip light of a hospital; one moment the dull ache of my back, the next, the pain gone; one moment Seth’s fingers entwined in mine, the next, gone, and Lacey by my side.

“Are you all right?” she asks.

“Yeah, I think so.” I manoeuvre myself so that I’m sat up in the hospital bed. “How long was I out for?”

“Not long,” she repli
es. “During the ambulance ride and while the doctor examined you. It’s just after midnight.”

I close my eyes and pull in a deep breath. “
Is Seth okay?”


I think he’s in one of the rooms down the hall. He’s fine,” she answers.

I let out a sigh of relief. “Do you know if anyone has told my parents?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I hope they don’t sue. Maybe I can ge
t back to the campsite before they even realise.” I pause, thinking through everything that happened. Some of it is a little jumbled up. My blood runs cold when I think of the Thing with its skull shining through translucent skin. “There was a spirit. What happened? Did you find it?”

Lacey
wraps her arms around her body. “I chased her. I chased her in my world, but I never caught up with her.” Her arms stretch further around her body, pulling herself tighter. I don’t like the haunted expression on her face.

“What is it?” I ask.

“She reeked,” Lacey replies. “She reeked of it. Pain, suffering, rage. There’s something not right about this place. If I were alive I would get goosebumps.” She stares down at her arms, sadly.

“How do you know about her? Did you see her?”

Lacey narrows her eyes as if concentrating on a memory. “Glimpses and feelings, mostly. She made her presence known to me. They don’t always do that. It was like she was trying to reach out, but then she clammed up and went inside herself.”

“I didn’t see her,” I say, half to myself. “Why is that?”

Lacey shrugs. “Maybe she doesn’t want you to see her. Maybe she wants to stay hidden.”

“But how?
How did she cause all that? You can’t even move a cup.”

Lacey
flashes me a glare. “Thanks for that reminder. Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe poltergeists are real. Hey, that means one day I might be able to touch things!” Her eyes flash bright with hope.

I can’t help thinking that
Lacey shouldn’t be hoping for corporeal form, she should be aiming to find peace, to go to wherever we
should
go when we die. At one point she will have to move on.

The door opens and
a doctor steps through.

“Mary Hades,” he says, staring down at his clipboard. “You’re pretty bruised, but there’s no lasting damage. You need to collect a prescription from the pharmacy on the way out. Read the label
carefully
. The stuff is pretty mild, but according to your medical records the anti-psychotic medication you’re taking doesn’t play nice with most other pills, so be careful. And please… no more alcohol.”

I can’t help the flush on my cheeks.

“I’m free to go?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says, finally meeting my eyes with his own wrinkled ones.

“Did you ring my parents?”

He rocks forward on his toes and raises his eyebrows. “No, I did not. You have minor
injuries, your friend down the hall also has minor injuries. There’s no need.”

Even better, they don’t have to hear about this at all.
Lacey grins and winks at me.

“Where’s Seth?” I ask the doctor.

“If you mean the young man you were with, he’s right down the hall on the right.”

“Thanks.” I gingerly climb down fr
om the bed, stretching my sore muscles.

“Miss Hades, if you don’t mind me
saying… I have a daughter about your age. If I knew she was out until midnight with the kind of folk who work at carnivals, I would be… concerned. Please take care of yourself. The reception desk will phone for a taxi for you to get home.” He gives me a sad smile. “We can charge it to the hospital, on this one occasion.”

“They don’t charge taxis to hospitals,”
Lacey whispers in my ear. “He’ll probably pay for it himself.”

“It’s okay, I have money,” I say. He
seems like a nice man, a kind man, but the last doctor I knew tried to kill me. That alone makes me not want to owe him money.

He gives
an exasperated smile. “Very well. But please do be careful.” And with that, he’s gone.

I hurry down the corridor, adrenaline coursing through my veins from the fall, the thought of seeing Seth, and the memories of the last hospital ward I stayed in.
I lift my shoulders a few times, trying to shake the uneasy feeling those strip lights give me.

Seth sits up on his hospital bed. He’s rubbing the back of his head and staring out of the window when I arrive. Before I knock on the open door to let him
know I’m here, I watch him stare out of the window, completely alone, completely him. His shoulders are slumped, resigned. I hope he doesn’t blame himself for what happened. Or me.

I knock.

He doesn’t turn immediately. When he does, his eyes are slightly pink around the edges and a little puffy.

“I was about to check on you. I’m glad you’re okay,” he says. His expression darkens. “No thanks to me. I should never have taken you on the ride after hours.”

I move forwards, all too aware of
Lacey by my side. She’s quieter than usual, not dancing around or pulling faces. Her eyes flit between the two of us.

“It wasn’t your fault. There’s no way you could have known what would happen.” But
I
should have known. When will I learn to stop pulling people into my dangerous world?

“I got a call,” Seth says. He draws in a sharp breath and scrunches the bedding up in his fists. “When we were in the ambulance on the way here, another piece fell from the Ferris wheel, a metal beam right from the top.” He stops talking and screws up his eyes. There’s dew on his eyelashes. “It killed
Damo.”

Without thinking I’m next to him on the bed, wrapping my arm around his shoulders. “Seth… I’m so sorry.”

He pulls my arm from around him. “You should go, before I end up killing you, too.”

“What are you talking about?” I’m the one with death as her companion. “You saved my life!”

“If I’d never agreed… If I’d gone with you on the ride straight away, instead of waiting until the dark, until half the operators had gone home.” His voice begins to crack. “Go home. Go to whatever campsite or hotel you came from. Get out.”

His words are like a shard of ice stabbing my abdomen. “Okay.”

The rest of the hospital is a blur. It’s when I’m outside that I realise my cheeks are wet.

“Well, that was
marginally
better than our last hospital stay,” Lacey says. “Mainly because last time, I died.”

 

*

 

It isn’t the sun filtering through the floral curtains that wakes
me, or the smell of fried bacon, it’s Mum shaking me awake and telling me that the little boy’s death has been cleared as accidental, and the police have all gone. That means we can get on with our vacation, according to Mum. Her voice is shrill and her words come out quick as gunfire. It reminds me of many moments with her in the past, like when she told me I would have to go into hospital, or when I was little and my hamster died.

My back aches and I swallow down a couple of painkillers with a glass of water. The prescription the doctor gave me is for something stronger, but I don’t know if I want to be on medication right now. I don’t have fond memories from taking anti-psychotics.

As I walk into the main area of the caravan, I wonder how I’m going to get through the rest of the week without telling my parents about falling from a Ferris wheel and almost dying. There’s no way they’d let me back to the fair if I tell them, and that would mean I might never see Seth again. So I walk carefully, trying not to wince as my back aches. Hopefully the bruises will go down in a few days. All of them are on my body and easily concealed.

The real problem is w
hat doesn’t fade after a few days. Since arriving in Nettleby there have been two accidental deaths. Neither of them were real accidents. Both were murder, at the hands of some evil poltergeist. That means there is a ghost lurking in the dark out there who has tried to kill me already.

“How was the fair, sweetie? Did you make any new friends?” Mum asks over breakfast.

I pick away a piece of bacon gristle. “I met one person, yeah.”

“You came home late. Did you hit it off?”

Hmm, how to answer that question? We fell off a Ferris wheel together and then his friend died, so, yes
and
no. “I don’t know. He—”

Dad’s newspaper creases down, revealing his bespectacled visage.
“He?”

I roll my eyes with emphasis, as if to say
don’t overreact
. “Yes, he. We hung out for a while.”

Mum smiles over her tea. “Did you get his number?”

My heart sinks. Of course I didn’t. He yelled at me to get out of a hospital room while the smell of bleach hung in the air. He’d been grieving for his friend, angry and frustrated.

“Sorry, honey. Was he good looking?”

“Mum!” I widen my eyes at her.

“I don’t want to know.” Dad rises from his chair, carrying his bacon sarnie in one hand.

“Well?” She raises her eyebrows.

“Yes, all right. He was.”

Mum drums the table with excited fingers. “Oh, I can tell just from looking at your face. He’s downright gorgeous, isn’t he?
Please
tell me you used protection.”

“I can still hear you…” Dad calls from the bedroom.

“Mum! We didn’t… we didn’t even kiss!”

“Thank Buddha for that,”
Dad shouts.

I roll my eyes at that silly joke of his, the one I’ve heard a
bajillion times.

“Well, maybe he’s staying on the campsite somewhere,” Mum offers. “You never know your
stars, you might bump into him one day. What’s his name?”

“Seth,” I say. “But he’s a local. He won’t be on the campsite.”

“Then you’re going to have to get out there and explore. Good men are hard to come by, Mary. Don’t let one slip through your fingers. Go into town and see if you can find him.”

I think of the way we landed, with our hands still clutching each other. No, I suppose I shouldn’t
let him slip through my fingers.

So
, after breakfast, I walk down the road into town with the long stretching moors on each side. It’s a thirty minute walk, and despite the warm sun, the wind is cold and whips at my hair. I find myself staring out into the bleak countryside, thinking of everything I know about North Yorkshire. Wuthering Heights. The Brontes. Harsh winters. Cool summers. Quaint villages filled with tea rooms and early-bird diners. Narrow bridges over winding rivers. The stares of locals as you invade their village during the summer months, and the sound of muttered “bloody tourists” under breaths.

Where are you, Seth? And why am I trying to find you? Why aren’t I letting you grieve for your friend in peace?

Lacey trots along next to me as we wander aimlessly through the town looking for mechanics and wondering what I would even say if I saw him. Sorry your mate was crushed under a piece of falling metal, but would you like to go on a date? Lacey spends the morning pointing out all the things she wants to eat but can’t. I have to describe the taste of Eccles cakes, scones with jam, and a hot cup of tea. I’m stuffed before even lunchtime.

“I’m bored,” she says eventually. “Give it up
already, you’re not going to magically bump into him, okay? What’s so special about him, anyway? There are plenty of other fit lads in this place. What about him?”

“Acne.
And he’s about fifteen.”

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