The Demon's Grave (38 page)

For a split second, I thought I was dead.

Blinded, I stumbled, unable to run. It wasn’t until the thunder bellowed that I knew I was still alive. My ears ached, chiming with a million different.

I nearly ran into the back of Aidan when my mud-soaked foot slapped on solid ground. My clattering nerves didn’t ease as much as I would have liked.

Shouldering past Aidan, I realized why he’d stopped.

Short flames licking at the jungle’s bed ahead of us, crackling and hissing in the moisture. It wasn’t large, but it wasn’t small enough for the rain to extinguish either. Seeing the fire I was reminded of the poem.

“
From the lightning in the sky…‌
”

I looked to my companion to tell him when he dropped to his hands and knees, facing the bridge.

I stopped to see what he was doing. The men were moving with steady certainty, there wasn’t much time.

Aidan’s muddy fingers fumbled to unravel the rope that held the bridge at the base.

“No,” I whispered. “The door is right there. We can make it,” I grabbed his arm to tug him along with me. The smell of smoke was thicker; it seemed the heavy rainfall wasn’t putting out the flames.

To my surprise, Aidan jerked away from my grip. “If they’re not dead, I bet that door won’t stay when we reach it.”

It was a good theory, but after a quick inspection of the knots, I knew the impossibility of his mission. Years of weather had drawn the ropes so taut it would take a knife to cut them lose.

Digging into my pocket I pulled the glass key free. “Here!”

Aidan snatched it from me and tried to shatter it on the wood, but it remained intact.

Staggering to my feet, I ran into a tree veined with ivy. One of its broken branches dipped into the fire that was starting to spread just within the tree line where it was still dry.

Darting for it, I pulled on it, cracking it free of the tree and dragged it from the brush. It was roughly the length of a baseball bat and twice as thick.

Nervous, I turned the awkward thing in my throbbing hands, trying to find the right grip. The dead men and their permanent grins were getting closer.

Aidan had flung the skeleton key aside and persisted at the knot with an agonizing stubbornness.

I ran for the black door which was a few feet from the fires. Wanting to prove Aidan wrong, I grabbed for the doorknob.

To my surprise the door didn’t disappear, but the golden doorknob faded the instant my hand drew closer. My hand swept straight through as if it were a mirage.

My heart skip a beat. Aidan was right.

The door appeared solid. Reaching to touch it, I saw it begin to fade, the vegetation behind it becoming visible. I drew back quickly, before it could disappear and the door appeared solid again. The last one must have disappeared because I’d thrown myself into it.

Spinning around, I saw the fire had grown twice its size. The smoke snaked up the trees and over the edge of the gorge.

We had to figure this out and there wasn’t much time.

“Aidan!” My voice vanished in the thunder.

He didn’t look up, the enemy shambling just a few feet from him.

Inching away from the trees I remembered all those safety posters and videos from grade school announcing not to stand beneath a tree during a lightning storm.

Avoiding the majority of the heat from the fire, I danced along its outer edge, narrowly avoiding the deadly drop to sidestep the fire. The heat stung my cold skin and my numbed fingers as they struggled to keep hold of the newfound club.

The men shambled within arm’s reach.

I grabbed Aidan’s shoulder and pulled. He didn’t resist me this time and stood up, his expression dripping with disappointment. Backing away from the bridge, we stopped when the heat behind us grew too intense.

It had consumed the dry tall grass beneath the canopy of jungle, blocking access to the black door.

“Nora,” Aidan warned.

Scraping my brain for options‌—‌too few that were useful‌—‌I felt fear seize me by the throat and froze mid-idea.

“What do we do?” Aidan demanded, shaking my shoulder.

An excellent question. Just seeing the two men, despite their frail frames, made my knees weak and my blood pump acid.

The only way to win was running. It worked before and they disappeared. Glancing back at the fire I tried to think about that night only to find fear.

I gripped Aidan’s arm for support, the muscles in my legs were twitching as if ready to collapse. He should have sacrificed me when he had the chance.

“We have to fight,” I wheezed.

Aidan shook my arm again. “How do you kill a zombie?” He asked.

Taking a deep breath I focused on Aidan’s pale eyes. There was something in his gaze that steadied me. I straightened my posture and my wobbly legs gained some stability. They weren’t the same men who’d kidnapped me, they were walking corpses‌—‌zombies.

Something in my face must have startled him because he let me go and glanced at our pursuers.

As I lifted my club, the lightning flashed, brightening the decayed faces as they stepped on solid ground. The lip-less grins twitched with what flesh was left around their mouths.

The Edgar Allen Poe poem had been the clue. The lightning from the sky, the demon in my view. Aidan had said it himself, his grandpa had told him that I’d met him before. I thought about my sister. They threw her into that fire and it was only right to do the same.

“Cutting off their heads won’t be enough,” I said. “They have to burn.”

Still gripping me, Aidan paused, looking between me and the zombies before saying. “Fair enough.”

As if it were a cue, I thrust my club into the flames that warmed our backs.

The zombies lunged forward but the flames hadn’t caught the drenched club quickly enough.

Aidan swung, stepping in front of me, and knocked a hard fist into the jaw of the one-eyed zombie, Blondie. The other half of its jaw crumpled under the blow and spun to the wet grass.

The two staggered to regain their balance and Blondie was quick to fling an arm and shove Aidan to the ground.

I checked on my club to see the smoke as the fire licked down to the dry center. Blackening and sizzling the tip.

JWD snagged Aidan’s loose shirt, dragging him to his feet, and time had run out.

My wild swing with my sizzling club missed JWD, though it hit Blondie in the chest before he could launch himself again.

Adjusting my grip, I shoved the amber tip of the club forward like a lance. The tip jabbed between two ribs and I pressed my weight into the thrust. The one good eye focused on me and sharpened. Bony fingers reached out, scratching deep into the wood.

Baring my teeth, I shoved at him again. The sound of one of the ribs shattering echoed between thunder cracks.

As I stumbled forward, the club penetrated deep, throwing us both off balance. The flames from the club flourished, finding something dry within the zombie and devouring what it found. All I could imagine were dried innards roasting and I almost let go.

Blondie produced an unearthly shriek, reeling away from me.

This close, the fetid stench of rotting meat and stagnant water prevented me from breathing.

I ripped the club free but he didn’t collapse as I’d hoped, though the fire feasted on him. Light glared from the empty eye socket and created a perverse Jack O’ Lantern grin.

I swung again, missing by inches as he stumbled back toward the bridge. There was only two ways to go: Through me or across the bridge.

Batting at his chest, Blondie spun into the rain, distracted.

Raising my elbows, I held the club like a baseball bat, ready for another attack.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Aidan fall near the edge of the gorge. His arms flew out for balance before rising to protect his face. JWD’s back was to me as he towered over my friend.

Aidan eyes met mine as I switched targets.

Striking down, I hoped I wouldn’t aim false, and used every available muscle. I didn’t just want to hurt JWD, I wanted to kill him.

Aidan ducked as the club collapsed the corpse’s brittle shoulder.

The aim wasn’t perfect, but the impact injected a jolt up my elbows.

* * *

The worst moment had been when the car stopped. It meant they weren’t going to leave us alone anymore. Neive and I had ducked off the backseats and huddled on the floor. The blood at the edge of Neive’s lip, where Blondie had hit her, had stopped.

I had glanced up at our aunt who peered out the window, eyes narrow and intent. She had smiled at me whenever I’d looked up, as if it were all part of the game, but this time she didn’t look at me.

The two men got out first, rocking the little car as they did and Neive and I pressed ourselves to the seat, attempting to blend in with the upholstery.

Aunt Nell opened the side door allowing us a view of our destination. I could make out the coniferous trees and untrimmed grass. No campers, no noise outside the forest‌—‌it was just us. The sun was going down in the distance and it would be dark soon.

I whimpered as I turned to my sister. I was grateful to have her with me. In our short lives, there had rarely been a moment I did anything without her.

Sliding out of the car, Nell moved so Blondie could reach in. He snatched Neive’s arm, yanking her from me as easily as if he were picking berries.

Shrieking a protest, Neive kicked, almost hitting me in her frenzy.

The door behind me swung open and the redhead caught my arm. I pulled back and tried to wrestle my way to the other side. Two hands grabbed my arm, stinging my skin. Then he tugged hard. A sharp, wrenching pain shot up my shoulder. I’d never felt pain like that before. It wasn’t like scraping a knee on the pavement, it was dizzying, scalding and unyielding.

Screaming, I was wrapped up in one arm and lifted out of the car. JWD’s free hand slapped over my mouth to muffle the agonized shrieks. “Shut up or I’ll pluck out your eyes,” he growled in my ear. The scorching in my shoulder hurt at every move. To this day I can’t compare it to any pain I’ve endured as an adult.

I couldn’t stop crying, but managed to stop screaming to hear Neive shouting for help so loud and shrill her voice cracked.

Calmly, Aunt Nell walked up to me and the redhead. Her eyes met mine then latched onto my arm. “What did you do?” She asked though I barely heard her over Neive’s screaming.

“What?” The redhead snapped.

Her arm shot out like a snake and cracked my head. The strike stunned my vision. The world tipped a little farther and the pain in my shoulder was now coupled with a fire in my cheek.

Neive went still, her breath hard and short. Blondie had one arm around her stomach, carrying her at his waist like a sack. Dark eyes round and frightened, Neive looked to our aunt.

“That’s better,” Aunt Nell said and asked again. “Her arm is broken?”

“No it’s not,” JWD scoffed. “Dislocated, see…‌”

I shrieked before he could touch my arm and he stopped.

Aunt Nell took a deep breath. “Just tie them up. We have work to do.” As she turned her back to me, the coldness was almost as harsh as the slap. Aunt Nell had always been warm. Her visits were always fun. This wasn’t the aunt I’d known. She couldn’t be the same woman who brought us presents and let us watch grown up movies. This was an impostor, a stranger.

In the clearing, sticks, hay and logs had been piled to a peak. Dirt had been dug all around the monstrous mound, leaving barren ground for several feet. Nell walked toward it and produced matches and a little black book from her pocket.

* * *

As I raised the club again, the scared little girl fell inward and the fury burst free.

The flames on my club caught tattered strings on JWD’s jacket, singeing the edges and burning the side of his neck. The zombie shrieked, turning its haunted eyes to me.

Discarding Aidan, the talon-like fingers reached for my neck.

Behind him, Aidan rolled out of the way. His hand slipped and he caught the long wet grass before he could fall right over the edge.

I jumped away from the outstretched hand and spun, falling straight into Blondie. The battle cry tore from my throat, melding with the thundering clouds.

As I swung the club, Blondie caught my wrist. His other hand snagged my free arm.
Trapped.
The idea seized my stomach.

The little flesh that was left slid off his bone and stuck to my skin. The fire within his chest had been pinched out, leaving his innards sizzling and red, but not flaming.

Twisting, I tried to yank free. JWD ripped the club from my hand, flinging it away.

I watched in horror as it landed several feet away in the tangled wet grass.

“Aidan!”

JWD hissed, his foul breath choking off my shouts. Raising cruelly tipped fingers he aimed them at my eyes.

Blinking, I turned my head and I felt JWD’s bony hand grab my chin. Hard fingers, pressed against my jaw, threatening to break my neck.

Turning my face, I felt the sharpened fingertips were inches from my eyes.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I anticipated the pain. He was going to have to tear through my eyelids to get to my eyes. The thought set me trembling with the same disabling terror as when he had yanked me from the dandelion colored car.

The jerky grunt caused me to open my eyes.

The pointed fingers at my throat scratched as JWD twisted to the side, releasing me.

Aidan was there, balled up fists, swinging at the zombie as a distraction.

Seeing my opportunity, I twisted in Blondie’s grip, dropping to the ground. The force of my fall jerked me from his grip.

Frantic, I crawled past JWD, feeling something snag the back of my shirt. I heard the fabric tear, but he didn’t stop me. Aidan kicked JWD’s shin and I heard the crunch as I fumbled in the tall grass for the club.

The fire was drawing closer, rising higher and hotter. The rain didn’t seem to be able to put it out. A mile away lightning shot down into the gorge.