Rotting Souls

by Sara Clancy

  Steadily, a sharp ringing filled her ears. Painful but endurable, allowing her mind to steadily drip back into her incapacitated body. A shadow loomed over her and she was jerked back onto her feet. The sudden motion cleared her head just enough for her to focus. A gigantic crater had gouged a hole into the forest floor, stopping barely a few inches from her feet. The canopy had been shredded by the toppled trees, allowing both the rain and weak moonlight to fall unopposed. A figure of muck and blood grasped her shoulders and shook her hard. She scrambled for her rifle before it clicked.

  “Benton?” She couldn’t hear her voice over the whine in her ears.

  His mouth moved but there was no sound. Only the harsh, unmerciful drone. Finally, he pushed her, forcing her to move around the pit towards the others. Zack and the twins were just as stunned. Benton worked to get them in order, collecting the body bags and supplies and urging them into a run. Nicole moved without thought. Driven on by both Benton’s shoves and pure survival instinct. They sprinted until their lungs refused to let them keep the pace. Slowing, they continued as a herd until they dropped. She slumped against a rock, her hearing returning as they panted for breath. Not in full, but enough for her catch the majority of his words.

  “Here. Drink.” He passed her a bottle of water from the hiking bag.

  “What the hell was that?” Zack declared.

  Nicole wondered how many times he had asked that before now. Probably the whole time.

  “It was the first time I consciously did it,” Benton defended. “Cut me some slack.”

  “Where did they go?” Meg demanded, contorting her exhausted body to search the woods around them.

  Nicole didn’t know the answer so offered the only statement she knew to be true. “There’s a pecking order.”

  “I got that, too,” Benton noted.

  Meg pushed her filthy hair from her forehead. “And you’re not the top.”

  The muscles in Benton’s jaw jumped. “Yeah, I figured that out.”

  “You can’t kill these things,” Meg continued.

  “I don’t need to,” Benton said. “We just have to bury them. Can we do that now before they catch up?”

  The air ripped from Nicole’s lungs. “Not here.”

  “Say again,” Benton replied bitterly.

  “What’s wrong with here?” Zack demanded, fear crackling within his voice. “Here is good. Now is good. Nic, those things are going to catch up.”

  “This is our land,” Nicole snapped.

  Zack threw his arms wide. “So what?!”

  “So, it’s spreading,” she shot back. “We’ve always known that this patch of earth is cursed land. It’s too blood-soaked to be anything else. But its influence was contained. Now it’s extending into town.”

  “Ackerman,” Benton mumbled.

  “You said it yourself, Benton. Mr. Ackerman’s afraid. Whatever’s poisoned the land is claiming his soul. It’s spreading! What if burying this kind of evil here only makes it worse?”

  “We can’t stop him without burying him,” Danny said.

  Nicole’s mind whirled. “The map. Meg, do you still have the map?”

  After some fumbling, Meg produced the map, ripped and soggy with water, the highlighter bleeding out into large patches.

  “Where are we?” Nicole asked.

  Meg gave her a disbelieving look before studying the area around them and the map in turn.

  “Here-ish,” she said, using her fingertip to make a circle a few miles wide on the paper.

  A rush of relief made Nicole smile. “That’s close enough. We can make it.”

  “To where?” Danny asked slowly.

  Preparing herself for the backlash, Nicole pointed to a spot almost completely off the edge of the map. Tradition dictated that it was never shown in entirety. Chaos broke out amongst their small group, their combined voices like daggers in her abused ears.

  “Hey!” Benton’s outburst drew their attention. “What’s the big deal?”

  “Are you kidding?” Danny demanded. “That’s the ghostlands.”

  “I don’t know what that means,” Benton shot back.

  “Oh, God,” Zack huffed. “Look, this is all extremely complicated. To get it, you’ll need a deep understanding of Siksika lore, history, religion, and our views of the afterlife.”

  “Not to mention the adjustments made by the local tribe and all that entails,” Danny added.

  “Explain it to me like I’m an idiot.” Benton snapped up his hand, mud flying from his fingertips. and he motioned for Zack to stay silent.

  Meg was the first to organize her thoughts. “Basically, our traditional view of the afterlife didn’t have it completely severed from the living world. It was a real, physical place that anyone could accidentally walk into. Our small little group believed it was right there.”

  “Basically,” Zack mocked, “Nic’s suggesting that we literally go to the land of the dead to bury these guys.”

  “The land literally holds onto the dead,” she defended.

  “And we’re alive,” Benton said. “If living people can go in, I’m guessing they can get out.”

  “Yeah. After being cursed,” Zack said.

  Benton’s brow furrowed. “What does that mean? What curse?”

  They went silent for a few seconds before Zack finally answered. “The legends never went into detail. Only that those who passed the boundary line were forever tainted by the dead.”

  Emboldened by having an ally, Nicole continued, “We only need to go a few feet across the border. You’ll be able to keep a foot in the living realm.”

  “You don’t know what’s in there,” Meg said.

  Danny leaned forward, knocked off balance by her rapidly moving arms. “You just learned that all of the stories are true. These things are real. And you want to do the one thing we’re told since birth never to do?”

  “What’s our other option?” she argued. “The paranormal equivalent of poisoning the water supply?”

  Zack slammed a hand onto the map and growled. “For once in your life, can you just consider the consequences of your actions?”

  An icy calm settled over Nicole even as she vibrated with anger. “Fort Wayward is my home. The home of my ancestors. Their final resting place. Every person in that town is my family.” She looked to each of them in turn. “These things are invading our land. Our home. Attacking our tribe. I don’t care what I have to do, where I have to go, or what they do to me. I’m not giving them a single inch.”

  Yanking the map out from under Zack’s hand, she got to her feet. “None of you have to come with me. But if you want to, just hold these things off while I cross over and bury them.”

  Benton had stood up before she finished.

  “What?” he asked. “I’m already cursed.”

  Zack looked to the twins. After muttering a few swear words, they each rose and gathered their belongings.

  “If we keep up a steady pace, we’ll get there before dawn.” There was no enthusiasm in Meg’s voice as she stuck out her hand. “Give me the map.”

  Chapter 15

  Benton had never thought that his body was capable of running for so long. Meg set the slow but steady pace, pausing only when she needed to get her bearings. His bones remained frozen under the growing layer of heated sweat. No matter how far they ran, the forest was still alive around them. Hands squirmed out from the shadows to grasp at anything within their reach. Thick blood began to ooze from the leaves, black as tar in the moonlight and tainting the air with a copper stench. Rain and mud made his jeans damp, chafing his skin and running into his eyes as they ran.

  Trudging their way up a valley wall almost broke him. The soft earth broke apart under his feet, dragging them all back down as they fought on, surging ever closer to the rising sun. Just when he thought he couldn’t endure another step, Meg stopped. Benton dropped to his knees, bracing himself on all fours as he panted for breath.

  “It should be around here
somewhere,” Meg said after greedily gulping down a few mouthfuls of water.

  “Where?” Nicole asked.

  “It’s not exactly well defined on the map,” Meg shot back.

  Benton reared back on his knees to look around. A small attempt to help the search. Awe claimed him, squeezing his heart and dropping his jaw. That’s not the sun.

  He barely noticed himself. Hardly felt the humid heat pushing against his skin. All he saw was the burning inferno that he had mistaken for the sunrise. Pushing a branch aside, he entered a clearing and got his first true look at the sight before him. A thousand-foot wall of dancing flames. Exploding from the earth like a volcanic geyser. Moving as waves along the swirling patterns mapped out upon the rocky ground.

  “How did I never see this from town?”

  “Benny-boy?” Zack asked cautiously.

  He jerked around. “None of you see this?”

  They didn’t need to answer. The looks on their faces said enough.

  “Your borderline’s right there,” he noted, pointing towards the flames. “So you know, you’re not going to be able to keep one foot out. It’s probably two yards thick.”

  Nicole inched closer to him. “What do you see?”

  “Do you remember that weird room we found in the Leanan Sidhe’s collection room?”

  “The one with all symbols of unknown origins?”

  He arched an eyebrow at her.

  “And that has the invisible fire that burned your hand, leaving you permanently scarred,” she added. “That’s totally what I remember first.”

  Benton decided to give a quick description rather than continue the conversation.

  “Are you kidding me?” Zack said.

  “What’s on the other side?” Meg asked.

  Benton tried to look, but staring into the heat for too long made his eyes water and burn. The sudden hoot of an owl made him jump. Looking up, he found the sky littered with the huge birds, circling above them with silent beats of their wings.

  “I can’t. Be quick,” Benton said.

  “You’re not coming now?” Zack asked.

  Wiping his palm on his pants to properly clear the mud off of his scars, he displayed his hand to the boy, remembering a heartbeat later that they didn’t have the blazing firelight to see by. It must have been close enough to dawn, because it only took a moment of squinting for Zack to understand.

  “Oh, right. You’ll die horribly.”

  Benton shrugged before an owl swooped at his head. Its talons slipped over the hood of his parka as he crouched. Following it with his eyes, his attention was drawn back to the edge of the meadow. People stood within the shadows. Arms at their sides. Rage radiating from them in crashing waves.

  “Their victims are here,” Benton said. The sheer number was staggering.

  “To help?” Nicole asked.

  “Go,” was Benton’s reply. “Now!”

  Nicole tightened her grip on the body bags and sprinted, barely getting a few feet before a ghost appeared before her. Skull visible through rotten flesh. Dark eyes burning. Benton rushed forward, pushing her out of the way as he opened his mouth to scream. The ghost flickered and vanished. Only to reappear at his side with a dozen of the others. Hands like dry ice reached for him, pulling back only when he brought his iron bracelet close. There were too many of them. Dozens turned to hundreds, each ensuring that he screamed in agony, rendering him incapable of summoning a banshee wail.

  A flash of feathers and glistening talons streaked across his visor, entering one of the ghosts that held him and shattering it like crystal. Another and another. A swarm that carved him an escape route.

  He took it, slicing another specter with his iron bracelet to reach an open area. Prepared for a fight, he spun around, only to find that the ghosts had resumed their sentinel posts. Unmoving. Staring.

  The arrow pierced his torso a second later.

  Pain exploded along his veins as his head flopped forward. His blood made the metal tip glisten in the firelight. Don’t fall asleep. Wrapping trembling fingers around the protruding shaft, he yanked it free. His scream of agony shook the earth and brought him to his knees. Hot blood rushed from the wound, washing the muck away and seeping into the grass around him. He pressed his fingers to it, ignoring the pain as he tried to stop the flow. Footsteps crept up behind him. A dark shadow settled over him. Panting hard, he lifted his gaze, finding a grim reaper standing before him. Grass squished behind him, the Baykok ready to claim its prize as soon as the venom took hold.

  Banshee.

  The word flickered through his head, imploding the dull haze that had consumed him. He thrust himself up, twisting and bringing the arrow in his hand down like a dagger. It dug through the empty socket of the Baykok’s eyes. With a sickening crunch, the tip broke through the mummified hard palate, snapping teeth as it drove out of the Baykok’s mouth. Before he could think, Benton yanked the impaled monster closer and released a furious scream.

  The Baykok vibrated violently. Fine cracks formed over the skull, gathering until, in one final burst, its head exploded.

  Benton staggered back as the Baykok did the same. Thrashing wildly, it blindly searched for him, no closer to death than it had been before. But we have time, Benton thought, his free hand raising up to touch his still bleeding wound. They have time.

  The first tremble took him by surprise, almost throwing him off balance. He had his feet braced to endure the next. The one after that. Three more grim reapers rose noiselessly from the ground as the trees swayed, each one staring in the same direction. Benton turned in time to see the colossal body rise up above the tree line. The jaws of the mummified skull clattered as its bones popped and skin crackled. They grow each time they eat, Benton recalled as he watched the twenty-foot-tall Baykok straighten its spine.

  He became obsessed with getting revenge on Nicole, a voice whispered through Benton’s shock-riddled mind. What has she been doing?

  “Nicole!” Benton bellowed. “His girlfriend’s here!”

  Horrified cries came through the flames as the giant Baykok stalked closer.

  “Bury her first!” he commanded.

  A fist larger than a car crashed down towards him. Benton sprinted to the side but couldn’t outpace the massive limb. At the last second, he dropped into a skid, sliding on his hip and allowing the hand to pass over him. Planting his foot, he rose up onto one knee and screamed. Forced, the sound came out as a high-pitched squeal, shattering a few trees but doing very little to the beast before him. The flock of owls attacked, clawing for the hollow pits of its eyes. The Baykok threw its arm out but didn’t have the speed to catch the swooping birds.

  Benton waited for an opening, for the creature to open its jaws. Gathering his strength, he screamed again. The papery skin ripped from its face, but the bones remained intact. A low grumble escaped it as it slammed its hand down, trying to crush him. He jumped out of the way, stumbling into a reaper and falling through it.

  He couldn’t see the headless Baykok he collided into. The flames surged and lapped at them as they fell, never making contact but drawing close enough to burn. An owl swooped, digging its talons into its spine and refusing to let go. A wild gesture caught the bird on the head and sent it to the ground. Benton scurried away as the ghosts of their victims charged into the fight, each one trying to claim their pound of flesh from the giant. Each one determined to keep their revenge.

  “Nicole!”

  “It’s done!”

  No sooner had the words left her mouth that the reapers began to melt. Bleeding into the air like oil in water. Staining each molecule until Benton was breathing it in. Moving as a fog, the deaths coiled around the Baykoks like a snake, tightening their hold as the monstrous figures fought for freedom. Nothing could stop the black mass from growing. It took everything, devouring the world until nothing remained.

  Benton grabbed his side as his knees buckled. He slumped to sit on the muddy earth beside the injured owl. Blood pulsed
between his fingers as he pressed a hand over his wound.

  “Benton!” Nicole shrieked.

  She sprinted across the grass towards him.

  “I never thought I’d say it,” he muttered. “But I want to go home.”

  ***

  Benton didn’t have to open his eyes to know that it was Nicole who settled down beside him. It had become their routine over the past week of mutual grounding. The only time they were allowed to see each other was at school and, still feeling the chill from the cursed ground, Benton used every lunch break to lay on the baseball field and soak in as much sun as he could.

  “How’s Bird?” she asked. “And I once again insist you come up with a better name for the owl. It saved your life. It deserves better.”

  “Bird likes his name,” he mumbled sleepily. “The vet says his wing will heal up fine.”

  “I still can’t believe your parents let you keep him.”

  “Dr. Aspen says that pets help kids grow compassion and responsibility.”

  “Are they still agreeing to family therapy?”

  “We have another appointment after school,” he said.

  “Well, there’s a silver lining.”

  He opened one eye when he heard her sit up.

  “Can I see it again?” she asked sweetly.

  Benton sighed and hiked up the right side of his shirt. Before they had even left the highway, his wound had closed, flesh knitting together to leave a thin pink scar. It wasn’t ever going away.

  “I have devoted my free time–”

  “You’re grounded, Nic,” he corrected. “Dorothy threatened to keep you in a holding cell if you ducked out again.”

  Her mouth tightened. “Which gives me a lot of free time.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  “I can’t figure out how you survived it.”

  “Banshee perk, I suppose.”