Haunted Waterways (Dark Legacy Series Book 2) Page 11

  Cordelia was quick to answer, “But she might not want us to actually die. She had a chance to pull Marigold under the water again but she didn’t.”

  Louis’ eyes snapped to his cousin, “They want us trapped here?”

  “Why? If they want her dead why not just kill her?” Rene spared Marigold a glance, “No offence.”

  “Poppy is Maggie’s relative,” Cordelia said. “If she’s only here because the demon is forcing her, maybe she doesn’t really want to hurt her kin. Maybe she’s trying to let her live.”

  “Or the demon wants me alive to breed me,” Marigold said it in barely more than a whisper but it commanded everyone’s attention. “That’s what Aunt Delilah was going to do. The demon needs a La Roux. I’m the last one.”

  “Your family is seven kinds of crazy,” Rene said as he came closer to Cordelia. “Okay, so I gather that them getting in is bad, so there ain’t no use in spit-balling about why it will be bad. Let’s talk damage control.”

  “Damage control?” Louis repeated.

  “Just because they get in here doesn’t mean they have to get us,” Rene said. “What do we do?”

  All eyes fell onto Louis and he tried his best not to notice. Still, he begun to pace, frantically rubbing the back of his head with both hands. Cordelia perked up as an idea occurred to her.

  “If the boundaries can’t take the strain, why don’t we release the tension?”

  “Good,” Rene said. “How?”

  “We release the ghosts on board. Send them over to the next life.”

  The words had barely passed her lips when laughter rolled down the hallways and slammed into Cordelia with brute force. Thrown off of her feet, she smacked against the nearest wall. She released a yelp on impact and tumbled down onto the ground. Rene was next to her instantly. His fingers gently probed and prodded, checking her for any broken bones. The laughter dissipated as Cordelia braced a hand against Rene’s knee for support.

  “I’m okay,” she groaned as Rene continued to check the back of her head. “I’m okay.”

  The walls rattled and the floor swayed as something struck the hull of the boat. Rene pulled Cordelia to her feet. She was still weak kneed and wrapped an arm around her waist to take most of her weight. The pounding continued, each both making the room vibrate. Marigold looked to Louis, her stomach clenched when she found a look of bafflement etched onto his features. His eyes darted around the room, never stopping on any spot for more than a few seconds.

  “We need to get out of here,” he mumbled.

  “That’s what I’ve been saying,” Rene snapped.

  The conversation was brought to a halt when the thumping suddenly stopped. The world was swallowed by silence. It hovered over them, pressing down until their ears rang with it. No one moved. The desire to speak, to somehow break the tension that twisted her up, gnawed at Marigold. She could almost feel the words at the base of her throat but she couldn’t force out the slightest sound.

  Something slammed against the door, hard enough to make it jolt on its hinges. It remained closed but rattled. They staggered back from the thunderous knocking. After three booming raps, the unbearable silence returned. A heartbeat later, Louis darted forward and grabbed both Rene and Marigold by their shirt sleeves. Wordlessly, he tugged, urging them further back into the boat.

  They fell into pace behind him and fled into the hallway. The colored shafts of light, now darker than they had been before, swayed and twisted in no clear pattern. The constant shifting making it impossible to tell the true width or depth of the hallway. The walls seemed to swell and recede like the ship had become a colossal beast that breathed around them.

  Louis ran straight for Marigold’s cabin. He flung open the door but didn’t enter. Instead, he stood to the side to hurry the others in. Before they could get near, a hand reached through the open doorway, latched onto his shirt, and yanked him into the room. The door slammed shut on its own, muffling Louis’ screams. Rene caught up a second later. He rattled the door handle and slammed his fist against the wood, but couldn’t force it open.

  Cordelia and Marigold joined his assault on the door, the three of them were forced to squeeze together tightly to fit into the small space of the threshold. The sound of cracking wood and groaning metal joined Louis’ pained cries. Still, the door held firm. Rene pushed the girls aside, clearing the space so he could throw his body weight against the door. But the hallway was thin and didn’t allow enough room for a run-up. Each time his shoulder collided with the door there was barely any force behind the blow.

  The door wouldn’t budge and it wasn’t going to. Marigold stood back, helplessly watching until a thought hit her. She turned on her heel and ran for the kitchen, ignoring Cordelia’s cries for her to come back. Terror dripped from every syllable Cordelia spoke and Marigold couldn’t bring herself to reply. If she heard the same fear mirrored in her own words she might not be able to get what they needed.

  It didn’t take long to get back to the kitchen. The bawling, screaming wind of the failing boundaries had begun to blow again. Stronger this time. It shook the boat in violent heaves, forcing Marigold off her feet. She staggered, her shoulder bouncing off of the doorframe to the kitchen, and she gripped it tight to steady herself.

  The kitchen no longer stood in organized chaos. Nor was it just the normal selection of pots and pans that were being whipped into the spirits frenzy. Everything that wasn’t bolted to the floor now hurled around the room like leaves caught in a swirling whirlpool. They clattered against the walls and rebounded off the floor, the impacts only driving them into a faster, wilder pace.

  Still catching her breath, Marigold tipped her head to get a better look at the room. Instantly, the items barreled towards her. She threw herself back, pressing against the floor and covering her head with both hands. Items whipped out of the doorway and ploughed against the wall with bone crushing strength. China shattered and pots slipped like cracked nuts. She lowered one arm just enough to see what she had come for was now embedded within the wall. A meat cleaver. It was rusted but still solid enough to inflict some damage and might just be able to hack through the thin door. Her hands itched to reach out and grab it but she knew that the second she did, the ghost would send another array of items towards her.

  Marigold pushed up onto her feet, stabilizing herself by pressing her fingertips against the floor like a sprinter at the starters block. Louis’s screams and the frantic cries of the others spurred her on. She lunged across the space. Something metal and flat smacked against her thigh. Pain exploded along her side as she slumped against the ground, sliding just far enough to be behind the protection of the wall. Sitting up she crawled a little further, just enough to ensure that she was completely out of the way. Only then did she allow herself to release the sharp cry that she had kept behind clenched teeth. It felt like her leg was in a vice and each pulse of her blood only added to the pressure.

  Still, she forced herself up onto her good knee and checked to see how much closer she was to the meat cleaver now. It was within reach, and she would be able to keep most of her body protected by the wall, but not all. She would have to reach into the open space of the doorway. Her back would be completely exposed while she struggled to pull it free. With quick sweeps, she searched the area for something that could offer any amount of cover. There was a discarded pot lid, by no means large enough to shelter all of her, but big enough to keep her head protected. Steadying herself, she listened to the chaos of the ghost within the kitchen. What if it has more knives? The second the thought came to her, she lunged forward, needed to move before she lost her nerve. She snatched up the pot lid and employed it as a makeshift shield as she reached for the cleaver. The wood was solid and cool against her palm and while she could wiggle it, the wall refused to release the blade.

  Items drove into the pot lid with too much strength for her to keep the metal from colliding into her head. A few strikes and it felt like her skull was about to crack. Her v
ision blurred and her head throbbed but she refused to let go of the cleaver. An object struck her shoulder like the blow from a baseball bat and she couldn’t contain the scream. She reeled back, still holding the cleaver. The wall shattered as the blade tore free and she flopped onto her back behind the safety of the wall. Tears welled in her eyes and pain clogged her throat. Marigold wanted to stay there. To just lay still until the pain ebbed away, but Louis was still screaming. She forced herself to get up, to cross the threshold once more and head back to the cabin.

  Each step brought a new spasm of pain. It flickered through her thigh and reduced her run into a broken hobble. She limped down the hallway, holding the cleaver high for Cordelia to run over and take it from her.

  “We don’t have an axe,” she winced.

  Cordelia ran the short distance back to Rene and handed it over. With a hand on her stomach, he urged her back a few more steps, clearing the space before he attacked the door. He channeled every ounce of his strength into each swing, his muscles bunching as they forced the blade into the thin wood. The meat cleaver dug in easily, gouging out large chucks with each blow. Cordelia kept as close as she dared and called to Louis through the gap Rene was creating. Louis begged them to help, for them to hurry, and the sheer fear in his words broke Marigold. The tears she had been holding back dripped from her eyes as she helplessly watched Rene gouge open the door.

  The wood gave way with a sickening crack and Rene pushed himself inside. Before he had fully stepped through, he froze; his body rigid and jaw slack. Cordelia and Marigold rushed forward and pushed the stunned man aside in their haste to pull Louis free. The room was a disaster area. There wasn’t a single item that had faced the ghost’s brutality and remained intact. Debris littered the floor and the bunks dangled as loose hunks of wood against the wall. Louis was pinned against the far wall, struggling against unseen hands that held him a few feet above the floor. They dragged him up over the dented surface until his head brushed against the ceiling. He thrashed. The tendons in his neck were visible as he strained against their grasp, but he couldn’t work himself free. They pulled him higher, further, until he was plastered against the ceiling, his arms and legs pulled taut. Louis released a final scream before he was pulled through the metal like it was water.

  “Louis!” Cordelia screamed.

  Marigold grabbed her wrist and bolted down the hallway, the pain in her leg forgotten for now.

  “I know how to get up there.”

  It took a moment for Rene to shake himself out of his stupor and peruse them. The staircase wobbled under them as they clambered up to the next floor. The song of the cello blared through the halls, mixing with shrieked laughter and the raging gale beyond the wall.

  The path they had to take made them weave back and forth to get to the room above Marigold’s cabin. They barreled into the room to find Louis on the floor, shaking and panting for breath. A man hovered over him, his feet never touching the ground. Grey and rotting, the specter loomed over Louis as he cringed away. It seemed to take most of Louis’ strength just to lift his head and look in their direction.

  Marigold’s focus was upon Louis. The ghost hovered in her peripheral vision, lean and long, like a serpent ready to strike. Not forgotten, but not as important and the man laid broken on the ground. Time seemed to slow, existing between heartbeats as they each waited to see what the others might do. The ghost lifted its face. The dark recesses that were once its eyes fixed on the three by the door, seeing but unseeing, watching even as it had no eyeballs left to speak of.

  Louis grunted as he was suddenly hurled into the air. He careened across the room and slammed into Rene. They both stumbled back across the hallway and collided with the wall. Marigold and Cordelia didn’t hesitate. They rushed forward, grabbed the men, and yanked them to the side. Louis was heavy in Marigold’s arms, making each step a labor and her leg threatened to collapse. He tried to work his legs, tried to take some of his weight, but all he could manage was a low scramble across the floor.

  She yelled out directions as they ran. Every second of the journey, Marigold was certain that one of them would be taken again. Snatched away and carried to another part of the boat, perhaps never to be seen again. She was sure that the ghost would appear again and rip Louis from her arms. Her fingers clenched his shirt and he wrapped an arm around her waist, his grip firm even as his fingers trembled. They weaved their way through the hallways, their feet thundering against the floor. The wind outside grew louder, transforming into screams of anguish and pain. They lumbered through the large double doors of the ballroom, Rene and Cordelia slammed them shut as Marigold and Louis toppled onto the floor. They barricaded the doors as best they could, shoved broken chairs and mangled tables in the way. Everything they could find was pulled in front of it and piled high. Louis shivered as he tried to get onto his hands and knees. A light sheen of sweat covered his skin and he could barely lift his head.

  “What the hell was that?” Rene said.

  Louis swallowed. “Mr. Creeper.”

  His shirt was damp under Marigold’s hand as she rubbed the length of his spine. She couldn’t tell the wet cloth was because of her own drenched clothes or because of his sweat. He leant into the touch and slumped back to sit down on the floor.

  “Are you okay?” Marigold whispered, not wanting to startle him.

  He loosely nodded. “I don’t want to do that again.”

  The wind grew to an ear-splitting howl, the boat trembled, the rows of windows rattled within their frames. Shadows began to streak past the fogged glass. The metal around them groaned as the shadows began to congeal along the edges. They darkened and swelled, shaping themselves into reaching hands that clawed over the wall. The hands of fathomless, glistening black reached through the glass, growing in numbers until they choked off the last traces of light.

  Chapter 14

  Louis couldn’t shake the sensation of a thousand spiders burrowing under his skin. They scurried over his trembling limbs, sparked across his nerve endings, and made his skin prickle and twitch. Blood oozed out of the claw marks that streaked across his back. It beaded against his raw skin and soaked into his shirt. He watched as the arms choked off the last rays of light. Darkness rushed to feel the room, mothering all traces of sound and touch with it. He curled his fingers but could no longer feel the floor. Temperature no longer existed and while he could breathe, he could no longer feel the air fill his lungs. All traces of scent disappeared and he could no longer taste his salty sweat upon his lips. It was complete sensory deprivation. Nothing existed beyond the pain that sizzled along his back and the rapid, panicked breathing of the others.

  “Louie,” Cordelia trembled out his name as a silent plea for reassurance.

  He longed to tell her that it was okay, that it wasn’t what she thought, but while the lie would bring comfort it wouldn’t change anything. Even as he tried to keep his voice soft, his words echoed within the now silent room.

  “They’re almost through the boundaries.”

  Rene said. “So what do we do?”

  Even in the complete darkness, Louis felt them watching him, waiting, expecting him to know exactly what to do. Out of all of them, he had the most experience with ghosts. They needed him to have the answer. Needed him to know how they could survive. He racked his mind, dredging up every memory he could, but he couldn’t find the solution they wanted.

  The room rattled as something struck the door in a series of thunderous booms. They all scrambled back over the vibrating door, blindly staring in the direction of the door. No one dared to breathe as the pounding stopped and they sank back into devouring silence. Louis flinched when fingers timidly brushed against his own. A heartbeat later, he realized that it was Marigold and reached back for her. The position put more strain on his hip but he tightened his grip on her trembling hand. Her skin was cool and soft against his as her long fingers gripped him with surprising strength. The contact was a small measure of comfort but one he glad
ly took. He squeezed her back, unable to see her, but heard her shuffle closer to his side.

  The sharp, resonating pounding began again. They jumped with each strike, the impact resounding within his ribcage, and Marigold’s grip tightened to the point of pain. He wanted to draw her closer but his body refused to move. The whispering started softly, a thousand voices layering over each other until the meaning was lost in the noise. Like the senseless buzz of white noise, the whispers grew louder, filling every inch of air.

  “What is it saying?” Cordelia whispered.

  Rene mumbled something, the words lost at the increasing white noise. They came from everywhere at once but suddenly a voice spoke directly into his ear, crisp and clear.

  Kill her and live.

  Each voice repeated the same sentence over and over, sometimes with joyful glee, while others drenched with screeching rage.

  Kill her and live.

  Marigold’s hand tightened until her nails broke his skin and Louis realized he wasn’t the only one who heard it.

  Kill her and live.

  The voices broke into demanding, wild screams. He pressed his free hand to his ear but it offered no relief. The voices coiled around his brain like barbwire. They screamed from within his skull, the unrelenting words driving him to the ground.

  Kill her!

  Light exploded behind Louis’ eyelids as the voices roared. He flattened himself against the ground, broken under the onslaught, the marrow of his bones vibrating with the sound. His muscles clenched and he dragged himself into a tight ball. Somewhere, beyond the voices that felt like lava dripping into his ears, he felt Marigold’s hands upon him. She was speaking, but her words couldn’t compete with the noise that filled him to the brim and left him reeling and strained his muscles to the point of snapping.

  Within a second, he was released. He slumped to the floor, desperately gulping in an attempt to fill his lungs. Thin traces of light hit his eyelids, the soft glow like a spike driving through his eyes. Trying to hide from the light he pressed his throbbing forehead to the moldy carpet, the musty smell of mildew filling his nose. Sound had come back to the world and he was able to hear Marigold calling to him. She was by his side, rocking his shoulder as gently as if he was glass, but still, each jolt made his brain slosh as if it were caught in a breaking swell.