Dark Traveler

by Catie Rhodes

  I kicked as hard as I could, ignoring the way Miss Ugly’s claws punctured my skin as she tried to hold on. I dragged my other foot on the ground to slow our progress. It didn’t do anything but jab rocks into my bare heel.

  Miss Ugly dragged me between two thick trees, standing like pillars at the entrance into the next dimension. Then I was in the place where red and yellow stars littered the sky, and the air felt alive.

  The rocks on this path were sharper. Glowing eyes watched from either side. Mad laughter floated out to me, teasing chill bumps out on my skin. My body, already tense, began to tremble.

  Miss Ugly would finish her mark on my chest and kill me. Nobody would ever find my body because Miss Ugly would eat me.

  Of all the things I could have felt, pissed topped my list. This wasn’t fair. I had no way to fight this thing, and bigger, meaner things were betting that it would kill me. I gave my leg another hard kick.

  Miss Ugly ignored me, continued dragging me down the rock-stubbled path. Light, either from a campfire or a torch, flickered through the trees. More people. Maybe rescuers. I opened my mouth to call out, but then I remembered the things I’d met here in the dark outposts. They might be worse than Miss Ugly. I clamped my jaw shut. Miss Ugly seemed to be taking me to them.

  Miss Ugly pulled me into a clearing with a fire blazing at its center. Any hope I’d felt at finding creatures who’d help me, human or not, withered. Nothing lived in this corner of hell. Firelight danced over a ring of half-buried human skulls marking the edge of the clearing. A human-sized black cauldron hung over the fire. Steam rolled off the liquid bubbling inside it.

  “No,” my voice rasped out. “Don’t do this. Let’s bargain.”

  “No bargain for your kind,” Miss Ugly mushed out. She let go of my leg and straddled me in one move. She cut my sleep shirt down the middle. Through my fear, I realized she’d ruined another shirt. That irritated me. Clothes didn’t grow on trees.

  The anger cleared my head. This was it. My last chance. I slapped at Miss Ugly with one hand and reared back the hand holding the horseshoe. Here it comes, baby. I let the thing fly at her head. But lying down like I was, the blow barely packed any wallop. It just bounced off her head. I dropped the horseshoe. It clanged to the ground.

  Miss Ugly grabbed both my wrists in one giant hand and pushed them to the ground over my head. With the other hand, using her index finger as a drawing instrument, she again punctured the skin on my chest. I thought I heard the pop when her nasty fingernail broke the skin. The new wound poked the old one, and they both sang soprano. I let out a yell that ended in a sob. A tear streaked out of one eye and slid toward my hairline.

  “Please. Isn’t there something I can do for you? A way to buy forgiveness?” Sobs shook my voice. They shamed me, but I couldn’t help myself. This had to be the worst possible way to die.

  Miss Ugly raised her head, contemplating my question. Samantha had suggested distracting her. Was it working?

  I spurred my mind to think of another question. “Can’t we make a deal?”

  Miss Ugly opened her mouth to answer, showing off teeth that glowed slick and dark in the firelight. Her grip on my hands loosened. One of my hands slipped out.

  I didn’t give Miss Ugly a chance to answer. I just snatched the horseshoe out of the dirt and rammed it into her open mouth as hard as I could.

  She leapt off me and staggered toward the fire, slumped and yelping in pain. Her agonized moans gave me a nasty thrill. The smell of smoldering flesh drifted across the clearing, sweet like barbecue.

  The iron must have been burning the inside of her mouth. Miss Ugly fell to her knees, back arched like a cat trying to cough up the fur balls of its ancestors, and heaved. I hoped she’d fall into the fire or choke to death on the horseshoe, but I didn’t dare wait around to see what would happen.

  I crashed through the squat trees. Their gnarled, bony branches grabbed at me like extensions of Miss Ugly’s hands, cutting ruts in my skin. Sharp rocks stabbed the bottoms of my feet as I found the path. The rocks ground in and hurt more than I dreamed anything could. I kept running, the thick air clogging my lungs.

  After a short distance, I stopped and tried to get my bearings. The trees Miss Ugly had dragged me between had to be somewhere around here. The mad laugh came out of the bushes again. Fear prickled the back of my neck, but I held my ground. The way home had to be close, but nothing in the silvery moonlight looked familiar.

  “Peri Jean?” Hannah’s shouts came from the other side of the veil.

  I didn’t answer but ran toward the sound of my best friend’s voice, praying it wasn't some sort of trap. The two trees forming an archway into the next world came into sight. I raced for them, sure Miss Ugly’s spindly fingers would close around my arm or leg just before I got out, and leapt back into our world.

  Hannah raced to me and grabbed me in a hug. “Here she is,” she yelled.

  Footsteps crashed toward us. Members of Sanctuary melted out of the woods. Some held flashlights. Others brandished actual weapons. The sight of them worried me. I’d rather they just let Miss Ugly take me away. The idea of them risking their safety for mine didn’t sit well.

  Dillon and Finn, my cousins, rushed to me and grabbed me in hugs. Dillon was the first to see the blood streaming from the new scratches on my chest and to notice my shirt hanging open.

  She jabbed Finn with her thumb. “Give her your shirt.”

  “Why?” her husband whined. Then he saw my bare chest and stripped out of his shirt without another word.

  My cousin’s shirt smelled of his cologne and eau de kid. I breathed deep and reminded myself I couldn’t wig out in front of the members of Sanctuary. They whispered among themselves, glancing at me with expressions varying from excitement to fear.

  I held up my hands for silence. “Thank you for your help tonight, for risking yourselves on my behalf.” As briefly as I could, I explained what I knew about my situation. “Hopefully this problem will resolve itself before tomorrow night. Until then, run if you see that thing. You can’t win a fight with it. So just save yourselves.”

  People nodded and mumbled among themselves. Two men stepped forward, arms around each other. I’d had to fight Cecil to let a same-sex couple join Sanctuary, but I had hit it off with Gus and Noah right away. That they deconstructed and put on Victorian era séances for a living only sweetened the deal.

  “W-w-what’s going to happen to you?” Noah asked.

  “Nothing.” I didn’t sound convincing at all. “I’m going to figure out a way to get rid of the monster. She won’t be back.”

  Kenny Johnson, a man who’d once tried to exile my family from Sanctuary, stepped forward. “Who’s in charge if you get killed?” His eyes flitted over my cut-up legs and filthy feet.

  I didn’t like Kenny on the best of days and didn’t have the energy to fake goodwill toward him. “Not you.”

  Without another word, I trudged back to my camper where I had Hannah take a new picture of the scratches on my chest. I sent it to Mysti with an explanation of what happened. There was no reply.

  “Where is Cecil?” I asked nobody in particular.

  “He, Shelly, and Jadine aren’t back yet,” Finn answered. “They went off with that new guy. Letts? Isn’t that his name?”

  My whole body flushed. I didn’t want to talk about, or think about, Tanner Letts. Maybe he’d decided against joining Sanctuary and would just move on.

  My phone buzzed with a return message from Mysti. “The monster won’t be back tonight. Too close to daylight. Rest. I’ll do some checking and send you a message later.” I set down the phone and tipped my head back, wishing I could scream at the ceiling. But I didn’t want to listen to it and figured none of my guests did either. I opened my eyes and tried to smile at the people crowding my little camper.

  Dillon made a face at my chest. I glanced in the bathroom mirror and groaned. Blood was soaking through Finn’s T-shirt. I moved to take it off. Dillon shook he
r head, still making the same face. “Give it back after you clean it.”

  I slumped and nodded.

  “What are you gonna do?” Finn sat down at the table and began spinning my cigarette lighter with one hand.

  “Hell if I know,” I snapped.

  Finn winced away from my fury.

  I forced myself to calm down. “That monster thinks I stole something from her. I’ve never seen her in my life. She won’t even discuss a bargain.”

  Finn stood from the table and motioned at Dillon. “We’ll get it figured out.”

  I shook my head. “I meant what I told everybody else. Try to stay away from it. You’ll only get hurt.”

  “I’m not just leaving you to get eaten alive.” Dillon’s eyes got bright and fierce.

  “She’s going to cook me first.” My stomach gyrated at the thought.

  Dillon paled. Finn dragged her out of my camper. Hannah left with them, throwing me a sympathetic glance. They piled horseshoes at my door, the heavy objects clunking against the aluminum door, in case Miss Ugly came back. I crouched underneath my table, holding a butcher knife that wouldn’t help me a bit if Miss Ugly returned.

  6

  I jerked awake to a god-awful racket that sounded like the world crashing in on itself. Butcher knife gripped in my fist, I hunkered lower underneath my camper’s table, waiting for Miss Ugly to take me away again.

  Awareness crept into my mind, chasing away the sleep, bit by bit. My bleary eyes recognized the daylight streaming through the windows. Relief flooded through me. Miss Ugly was gone until sundown. But then what?

  I crawled out from under the table, wincing at my sore muscles screaming. The skin on the backs of my legs and on my feet sang with a million scratches and cuts. My neck had a catch in it that flared up every time I turned my head. The noise came again. This time I identified it as another RV rumbling along the little dirt lane in front of my camper. Back throbbing from the cooped up way I’d slept, I climbed over the table’s bench seat and peeked through the blinds.

  An ugly, eyesore camper, 1970s vintage from the look of it, backed slowly into the spot next to mine. A faded two-toned blue and white pickup truck with a matching camper over the bed pulled it. I squinted to see who was in the truck.

  Sunlight glared off the windshield, so I couldn’t see who was inside. Irritation burned away any residual fear I carried over the encounter with Miss Ugly.

  What was this? I’d rented the spot next to me for extra privacy. Hannah was about the only super-close next-door neighbor I could stand. And she was bad enough.

  I shucked off last night’s clothes in front of the bathroom mirror and did a double take at the mark Miss Ugly had scratched onto my décolletage. Puffy, raised edges, crusted over in some spots, skin red and angry around it. I dabbed at it with a cool cloth, whimpering as I did so.

  The truck’s engine shut off and backfired. I snapped back into control. No way would I let anyone see me hurting. My pride might never recover. I dragged on a pair of cut-off denim shorts that were only moderately dirty and a clean peasant blouse Hannah insisted I buy. Showtime.

  I slammed out the door and kicked on the flip-flops I kept next to the steps. Hannah had wandered out of her camper, probably to bear witness to the drama. She pulled one of her long, skinny cigarettes out of the pack and lit it, rubbing the sleep out of her face.

  “I stayed up watching your camper, but I guess I fell asleep.” She shrugged in apology.

  “Good thing Miss Ugly decided not to take another run at me. I slept under the table waiting for her.” I smiled at the look of shock on Hannah’s face and pointed at the formerly empty space.

  “I thought you rented the space next door.” She ground one fist against her eye and shook her head.

  “I did. If the RV park rented it out, I’m going to have their asses.” I stomped to the other side of the trailer, spotted Cecil, and hurried to him. “What is this?”

  He turned to me and gripped both shoulders. Holding me at arm’s length, he looked me over the way Memaw would have. “I am so sorry we were still out when that monster attacked you. Are you okay?” He spun me around, clicking his tongue at the scratches up and down the backs of my legs. “Dillon said that thing cut you again last night? Where is the mark?”

  I plucked at my blouse. “It’s under here. With the other cut. Mysti said it’s the monster’s signature.”

  “Horrifying,” Cecil muttered. “I have to wonder if full control of the mantle would make you powerful enough to send it away.” He didn’t give me a chance to reply. “I haven’t forgotten about the man who might be able to help you remove the spell blocking the mantle. It’s just going to take time to find him. Meanwhile, I’m not sure what to advise you to do.”

  “I don’t know what to do either. I stopped Miss Ugly last night by shoving an iron horseshoe into her mouth. Eventually, my luck will run out.” The problems compounded in my mind until they were a wall of chatter, slowly chipping away at my sanity. I pushed away my problems with Miss Ugly and gestured at the camper. I could do something about this right now, at least. “What the hell?”

  Cecil put both hands up, palms out, and I knew we had a problem. “Now honey, we talked last night about Tanner joining Sanctuary as a legacy member. You agreed. Remember?”

  I glanced at the camper again. The truck’s beat-up-assed door screeched open. Tanner Letts slid out, muscles flexing underneath the material of his worn cargo pants.

  Dragging my gaze off him, I leaned close to Cecil and lowered my voice, not sure why I cared if Tanner heard me. “But I didn’t agree to him bunking next to me.”

  “The park’s full. This is prime tourist season, sugar.” Cecil threw a smile over his shoulder at Tanner, who had started plugging the camper into electricity, water, and sewer.

  I went over my strategies for winning this argument. Complaints about lack of privacy wouldn’t work with Cecil. He’d roll his eyes at me. He thought me renting the extra space was stupid anyway. The best claim I had was financial. “But I paid to rent that spot out of my own pocket.”

  Cecil came closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Tanner doesn’t have a cent to his name, honey. He needs our help. This is part of how we take care of each other.”

  I allowed myself another quick look at Tanner. His ragged clothes and his worn-out vehicle attested to a dire financial situation. That argument lost, I raised my eyebrows at my great-uncle. “And what kind of financial trouble is he in? Who does he owe? Are they going to come down on us?”

  I’d presented all these arguments the night before, and Tanner had answered my questions, but I believed him about as much as I believed any desperate person. He came to us because he needed Sanctuary, just like the name promised. What kind of heat did Tanner Letts have trailing him?

  The man himself glided around his camper, surefooted and efficient. He occasionally tucked a lock of hair behind one ear and glanced at his surroundings. Those intense green eyes met mine, and he raised one hand shyly. I nodded in return. Yep, this guy was in some kind of trouble. Or he was trouble himself.

  “Tanner’s problems are his story to tell. I’ve heard it and think it’s genuine.” Cecil fixed his dark eyes on mine. It hit me that Tanner camping next to me was a done deal, no matter what I said. The look in Cecil’s eyes said he was pulling rank, and I’d better not get my nose out of joint over it. He gripped one of my arms as a further signal that he meant serious business. “Get to know Tanner. Maybe he’ll tell it to you once he trusts you.”

  Shelly sped up in the golf cart she and Cecil towed behind their state-of-the-art motorhome. She shouted a cheerful greeting to Tanner, hurried over to us, and gave Cecil a hug. He kissed his wife’s cheek. They exchanged the kind of smile people who’ve been together a long time give each other, one full of secrets and stories, love and laughter.

  My anger ebbed watching them. I envied their easy togetherness, the concern they showed for each other, and the ways they complement
ed each other. Not everybody finds that level of companionship. With the door closed firmly on a relationship with Wade, I highly doubted I’d ever get close.

  “I checked with Kenny,” Shelly told Cecil. “He did have an extra tent. It’s one of those silly striped ones, but Tanner can have his own setup tonight rather than being in with one of the other businesses.”

  “What’s he do?” In spite of myself, I watched Tanner’s graceful movements, shying away each time he caught me staring.

  “Tanner, like the rest of his paternal family line, is a finder of artifacts.” Cecil followed my gaze and gave me a smile that made me blush to the roots of my hair. I turned my back on Tanner, ignoring both Shelly’s and Cecil’s chuckles.

  “What’s that mean, and how does it equate into him needing his own tent?” I’d had to buy my own tent and decided to splurge on a custom made one with the design of a night sky, a Ouija board, and a crystal ball on it. It set me back some serious dollars.

  “Tanner sells arcane items. A lot of good luck charms, but some of his stock has magic.” Cecil said the words seriously, but mischief danced in his eyes.

  I couldn’t believe him. I’d been attacked the night before, twice, and here he was acting like I was at a single’s bar. Gross. Well, he could act silly if he wanted to. Any relationship I had with Tanner Letts was going to be all business. “What kind of artifacts do you mean?”

  I had been talking to Cecil, but Shelly spoke up. “Last night he showed us a good luck charm with nine pieces on it, each one with a different purpose. The little spade was supposed to help you retrieve stolen items. I don’t remember what the others did.”

  Interesting. But I pretended it wasn’t. “And they’re supposed to actually work?”

  “It’s like the rest of our businesses.” Cecil shrugged. “Some of it’s genuine, some for show.”

  I let Tanner’s new role in our group sink in and watched him some more. He wandered over to us, eyes on me, wiping his hands on his jeans. I turned my back to him.