Risen (Haunted Series Book 22)

by Alexie Aaron

  Whit helped Bob stow the boat. The others went down below to find dry clothing. Wet sand in the creases did things to a man that ought not be done. The captain started the engines. He ran through the check lists with his first mate. The main objective on the yacht was escaping over the reef. No one saw the beach explode upwards and fifty tentacles move out from under the rising beast and move into the water.

  The twin motors howled, but the boat wasn’t moving. Smoke rose from the engines. The captain turned the wheel, but the yacht didn’t respond. It was stuck in one place as if somehow they found themselves in solid concrete.

  “What’s going on?”

  The horizon changed slightly. The first mate ran to the side just as the boat lifted out of the water.

  The captain cut the engines as soon as he heard the whine of the propellers now free of the water.

  Whit pulled Bob away from the side of the yacht as a tentacle moved over the edge where he had been hanging on.

  Kevin and Fergus moved up from the hold where Kevin had sought refuge from the storm. Fergus pulled his knife and stabbed the tentacle. They were all surprised by the howl of pain from the island.

  “That blade barely made a dent,” Kevin observed. “It must be because it’s spectral.” He pulled out his flask, walked over and slapped it against the next tentacle that moved across the open deck.

  Another howl of pain.

  “Where’s my son with that bloody axe? He could do some proper damage,” Kevin said. “STEPHEN!”

  Captain Billard assessed the present situation, and even though a few of the invading tentacles were retreating, he didn’t see a way in which the yacht was going to survive. “Put out an abandon ship order,” he told his first mate.

  “We only have the one boat,” the mate reminded him.

  “We’re not going to have time for the boat. We have to leave now! That beast isn’t just coming after us. It’s pulling us in towards the island.”

  Murphy climbed out of the cavern. He thought he heard his father calling him. He shot upwards above the trees to see what was happening. The beast had a firm hold on the island with half her tentacles. The other half had ahold of the Azure, and it was bringing it towards the shore.

  “STEPHEN!” Kevin called. “Use your axe!”

  Murphy moved along the beach and chopped at one of the arms pulling the boat in. The axe severed it from the beast. The beast screamed in pain. He took aim and chopped off another one.

  Meanwhile, on the yacht, Kevin and Fergus were moving back and forth, tormenting the tentacles that crept along the surface of the boat. They could do nothing about the arms drawing the boat in.

  Ted and Burt climbed out of the engine area carrying a large battery between them. Ted slid along the deck, stabbing long leads of wires into the larger tentacles. “Now!” he shouted.

  Burt threw a switch. The odor of burnt seafood and the sound of the beast in pain preceded the fall of the Azure.

  “Now, Captain, now!” Ted shouted.

  Murphy watched as the yacht regained traction and started for the reef. The clouds were coming in. Murphy knew that the eye was moving away, and soon, the weather would be bad. The yacht had to leave now.

  The beast glared at Murphy. It looked at him with the one eye it had left. It turned and came after him with a vengeance. Murphy felt vulnerable. To use his axe effectively, he had to maintain a solid presence. If he reverted to his ghost state, he ought to be safe, but Mia had said she suspected this was a demon. Demons could do a ghost some harm. So, damned if he did, and double-damned if he didn’t. That’s when he remembered the C4.

  He reached the box and opened it up. He pushed off the ground and let gravity push him downward as he brought his axe down and slammed it into the explosives.

  Ted and Burt were momentarily blinded by the flash of light that illuminated the underside of the hurricane’s clouds that were moving in. The yacht was slammed by a rush of wind that pushed it towards the reef. In seconds, it was followed by the deafening explosion that would cause their ears to ring for hours, perhaps days.

  Kevin saw the rising water and pulled Fergus below the deck to save him from being washed over.

  A series of additional blasts came from deep in the center of the island. Ted pulled Burt into the passageway, closing the door securely behind them.

  The captain used the swell of the second percussive wave to make it safely over the reef. Only then did he turn around and see what all the noise was about.

  The island was burning.

  The initial explosion destroyed the earthly body that was Lamia. Her fat burned and flowed like a river of fire that seeped into the volcanic vents and ignited the fuel tanks on the boats still stacked in the cavern. The cavern became consumed by fire. The old gunpowder from the captured merchant vessels exploded in the extreme heat. The surface of the water bubbled and burned where the oils of Lamia floated.

  Lamia’s spirit rose out of the fire and searched for something living to inhabit. There was nothing left alive large enough to hold her. The demon-with-no-name had abandoned her. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been warned.

  The night before, she had crept close to the caves. Her objective was to pull the humans out, one by one, during the storm. As her tentacles inched up the passage where the uniformed men had taken refuge, she was surprised to hear them speaking in her language.

  “He’s going to leave you, sweetheart,” one warned.

  NO! He promised to take her with him. They were going to conquer the human world together. The little apes would amuse the demon and sustain her as they traveled around the globe, looking for those who had imprisoned him.

  She moved her appendage closer to see if she had heard wrong.

  “I’m not your enemy. I’m trying to save you,” a seaman told her.

  She pulled back. Is this true? Had he heard her approach?

  “I’m trying to save you,” he repeated, this time his accent was less.

  “Sweetheart,” the other said. “He’s going to leave you.”

  Did this puny human care for her? Care enough to use a term of endearment? She brought him to his death, yet he called her sweetheart! The demon-with-no-name used to call her sweetheart. Lamia had met him in the prisons of Hell. She was his keeper. He seduced her with his words. He didn’t see the ugly monster she had become after the fall. When they took him away, she followed and cared for him. He called her sweetheart and lover, even though her physical body would never allow for that. Still, it was love. He was smart and could communicate with the humans. He spoke their language. And now the humans were speaking to her. Warning her.

  “I’m not your enemy,” one said again. “I’m trying to save you.”

  “He’s going to leave you, sweetheart,” the other insisted.

  She left them and went in search of the demon. She found his vessel, but he was not within.

  The words of the seaman echoed in her mind. “He’s going to leave you.”

  “He’s already left!” she screamed. “How?”

  Lamia spread out her tentacles. She had grown hundreds of them over the years. Each had the ability to hear and send sensory data back to her. They enabled her to see beyond her massive aquatic eyes. When the birdwoman attacked her eye, it only momentarily disrupted her sight. She was a mighty organism; she could adapt.

  Maybe the vessel he had spoken to her about had returned. The vessel came on the shiny boat, the very same boat that was now sheltering in the cove. Lamia would search the boat and find them. If she had to tear it apart, she would find him.

  But the boat was full of assassins. One stabbed her; another poured liquid that burned her skin, and a third attacked her with St. Elmo’s Fire, little sparks that destroyed cells and disrupted her sight. The final assassin came from within the island. He attacked her with an axe. She lost arms. The pain was driving reason from her brain. The being with the axe was the biggest threat. She would kill him before returning to search the boat. She pull
ed in all her arms, turned, and directed all her energy at him.

  And then there was nothing but the burning cave.

  Lamia shook off the despair. She would simply return to Hell. She had kept her bargain. She never left the island prison, and she had never told the demon his name. She would plead for her old job back. No one wanted the position anyway.

  “STEPHEN!” Kevin called out as he searched the sea behind him. The boat moved just at the edge of the storm towards the harbor where the captain had promised he would shelter the boat as Hurricane Kelly continued on her northern trek.

  Fergus moved up from below deck to stand at his friend’s side and asked, “Any sign of him?”

  “Not since the explosion.”

  “Ted wants to speak with you.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. He just shouted that he needed to speak to the both of us,” Fergus said, scratching his head. “I don’t know why he had to shout. I was standing in front of him at the time.”

  “I think he was complaining about not being able to hear. The explosion from the island may have damaged his hearing,” Kevin said. “Remember when Wild Wally fell asleep and didn’t clear the blasting site on the old canal?”

  “Yep, he said it was like church bells had taken up permanent residence in his noggin. We were up there when Stephen blew up the island. I hear fine.”

  “You’re dead.”

  “Well, there’s that…” Fergus confessed.

  “I’m worried about my boy,” Kevin said.

  “He saved our bacon,” Fergus said. “Mia and Mason mentioned that he was brave, but I had no idea.”

  “We’re talking about him like he’s dead.”

  “He is dead,” Fergus pointed out.

  Kevin couldn’t help chuckling. “Come on, let’s go and see Ted before he shouts the boat down around our ears.”

  Ted kept opening and closing his mouth trying to pop his ears. Burt lay on the stateroom couch with an ice pack on his head that Mason had provided. The Callens were below decks when the explosions occurred. The only pain they were experiencing was listening to Ted shout nonstop.

  Kevin and Fergus appeared in front of Ted.

  “I WANTED TO…”

  Kevin put his finger to his lips and then moved his hand in front of him slowly downwards.

  “I…”

  Kevin moved the imaginary lever lower.

  Ted caught on. He adjusted and asked in a moderate voice, “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” To him, it sounded like he was talking underwater.

  “Don’t…” Kevin could see Ted was struggling to hear. He raised his voice level to compensate. “I don’t know. I think they were feeling sorry for you.”

  “I wanted to tell you where I think your son is.”

  “Where?”

  “When he was in Sentinel Woods, he had batted away an exploding hand grenade. That’s a hand-sized explosive device,” he explained. “He hit it, and it exploded, sending him into another dimension. But it also energized him. He came back stronger. I think that the force of the C4 exploding must have booted him far from the island. He’ll either go looking for Mia first, or he’ll work on finding us. Either way, I wanted to tell you that he’s probably fine.”

  “What about Mia?” Kevin asked.

  Ted pulled off his t-shirt and pointed to the hummingbird tattoo. “As long as this is here, she exists.”

  “Where?” Kevin asked Ted.

  “She was headed into the Pit of Despair with the demon. Burt is worried that she is going to face severe consequences for her actions. I think she’ll be able to talk her way out of it. If not, after this storm, I’m going to fly to Haiti and request an audience with Roumain.”

  “Who’s he?” Fergus asked.

  “He’s the keeper of Purgatory. He’ll know what to do,” Ted said. “Mia did what she did to protect us. Unfortunately, the demon-with-no-name did not keep his promise.”

  “Is that why the creature came after us?” Kevin asked.

  “She came after us like a woman scorned,” Ted said. “The beast must have thought we had the demon on the boat with us. Otherwise, she would have crushed us instantly. She was just looking for him. Perhaps inside of Mia.”

  “Poor old gal,” Fergus said. “She kind of reminds me of Catherine Murphy.”

  “Nah, Catherine didn’t love me that much,” Kevin said sadly. “Not nearly enough to sustain our marriage, let alone come looking for me when I’d gone.”

  “She sent Stephen to find you and bring you home,” Fergus reminded Kevin.

  “Yes, she did. And he did bring me home time and time again. Now I wish, with my whole heart, I could do the same. Where is my boy?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  They fished him out of the sea. They tried to take his weapon from him, but he clung to it as if it were part of him.

  “Let ’im have it,” the boatswain said. “It may come in ’andy.”

  Murphy opened his eyes and stared up into the tattooed face of a dark-skinned man. “Where am I?” he asked.

  “You’re aboard the Devil’s Pride. The fastest vessel in the Caribbean. Who are you?”

  “Stephen Murphy. I’m from Illinois.”

  “Is the Ill Noise a galleon?” the man asked him.

  “No.” Murphy tried to stand but was still being held down by two other colorfully dressed sailors. “May I stand?”

  “Let ’im up,” the boatswain ordered.

  Murphy stood and shook off the restraining hand of a sailor. “I’m not a sailor. I’m a farmer from a place called Illinois,” he corrected. “I died when a tree fell on me.”

  This caused a few of the sailors within earshot to laugh.

  The boatswain nodded. He seemed to think a moment and smiled before he asked, “’ow the ’ell did you get ’ere, farmer?”

  “I exploded an island. I’m not sure where here is?”

  A murmur moved through the men on the deck of the tall ship.

  “Exploded an island you say?” an authoritative voice bellowed. “Which island?” The sailors parted as Henry Waite, the quartermaster, strode over. He was wearing a tattered uniform, opened at the neck. His long black hair was slick with grease and tied back. His boots bespoke of someone who liked the finer things in life. Even in death, they had a shine to them.

  Murphy ran through the names he had overheard and chose the oldest one, “Lucifer’s Lip.”

  “There be a beast on that isle,” the quartermaster claimed.

  “Not anymore,” Murphy said. “The explosion blew me away. I need to get back to my boat.”

  “You’re telling me that you killed the beast of Lucifer’s Lip?” Waite questioned.

  “The physical body of the beast. I’m not sure what happened to the soul.”

  “Beasts don’t have souls,” Waite insisted.

  “Then ’ow would you be explaining the cook?” the boatswain joked.

  The quartermaster lifted an eyebrow. He closed one of his black eyes and shook his head. “We’re stuck with him for an eternity. You best be getting used to his slop.”

  Murphy was stunned. “You guys can eat?”

  All heads turned his way.

  “Am I in Hell?” he asked and explained, “I could eat when I was in Hell.”

  “Now ’e’s telling us ’e’s been to ’ell,” the boatswain complained. “I think ’e’s lying.”

  “Toss him in the brig until the Captain is ready to speak to him,” the quartermaster said.

  “Please, can you tell me where I am?” Murphy pleaded.

  “Farmer, if you’re telling us the truth, you’ve exploded yourself through the six veils and ended up in the realm of the ghost ships. Here, death comes only to those who don’t tow the line,” the quartermaster said and pushed through the throng of sailors, leaving Murphy at the mercy of the boatswain.

  ~

  Mia pushed at the door again. She was in a room so small that she couldn’t open her wings. The tiny square
window was barred. The view outside was obstructed by a stone tower. The only furniture was a chair she suspected was taken from a cold-war-era, Soviet office building. It was hard plastic and too high off the ground for Mia’s short legs. She sat there swinging her bare feet back and forth.

  Abigor had taken her boots. She had pulled a knife out of one of them after he tossed her on the stone floor of the building they had entered. Mia had rolled to her feet, spreading her wings, and stood in a defensive position. The ceiling was high, but still, Mia knew there was no place she could escape.

  He laughed, until she lowered her armor.

  “Mia, I’m not your enemy. Are you mine?” he asked softly, holding out his hand.

  Mia surrendered her knife.

  He tossed it aside. “Contain your wings.” He pointed to her boots. “Angel armor. Please remove them or I will.”

  Mia took off her boots. “I want them back.”

  Abigor pushed her up against the wall and took his time frisking her.

  “Don’t you have people for this?” she said through her teeth.

  “Why should I give them the pleasure?” he said, moving his hands over her lightly. “Mia, be nice to me. Have you forgotten where you are? Or who you brought with you?”

  “I had no other choice,” she argued. “Is he dangerous to you?”

  “You’re trying to distract me,” Abigor said, turning her around. “Shut up.”

  He ran his hand over her back, stopping at the strange metal oval. “What’s this?”

  “It was a locket that I absorbed. I’m hoping it will fall out eventually.”

  “Gargoyle,” he said. “I heard about how you let that lice-ridden bird give you wings, but I never imagined you aligning yourself with a gargoyle.”

  “I didn’t. It was a gift from my husband.”