Graver Girl (Grave Girl 2)

by Amy Cross

  “Are you sure he's going to come tonight?” Sam asks. “Call me crazy, but if I was the Devil and I was trying to hide out, I'm not sure my first move would be to go to a big show.”

  “He can't help himself,” Raven replies. “This show will act as an oasis of all that is good in the world, and the Devil will be drawn here. He'll feel the urge to intervene, to destroy... That's all he lives for, like a desperate addict who needs another fix of misery and godlessness. And when he does, that's when we'll strike. He'll still be too weak, you see, and that's our best shot. If we wait until he's stronger, I'm not sure we'll have any hope of capturing him.”

  “I still don't have a plan,” Sam points out.

  “In his current state, I doubt we'll need much of a plan. I've instructed my men to be ready, and when I give the order we'll be able to apprehend him. At that point, we should have no trouble tying him down and then returning him to the crypt where he has been held for all these years.” He pauses for a moment. “I can see the concern in your eyes, Ms. Marker, but you must trust me. I know how to deal with the Devil, and this plan will work. The alternative would be to let him remain at large, and that would just be too terrible to contemplate. He would grow in power, and eventually he would be able to set his plans in motion.”

  “But what if you're wrong?”

  “I'm not wrong.”

  “Have you ever dealt with him like this before?”

  “I have studied tales of the Devil,” he continues, “and I'm quite certain that I understand his strengths and weaknesses. He believes that humanity is powerless, that we have no way of fighting back when faced with his powers, but that is the mistake he has made throughout history. Put simply, he underestimates the human spirit, and we will use this fact against him. By the end of this night, he will have learned a valuable lesson, but it will be far too late for him to save himself.” Checking his watch, he puts a hand on Sam's shoulder. “And now I must go to my preparation room. I'm afraid I always require a little time alone before a show, in order to prepare myself for the ardor that is to come. You will excuse me, I hope.”

  As he heads through to another part of the tent, Sam finds herself contemplating the sunset and wondering whether the Devil really will be lured into the open when the show begins. Although she desperately hopes that Raven is right, that everything can be put right so simply, she can't shake the feeling that the Undertaker might have been right when he insisted that the Devil could never be returned to his grave once he'd been released. Still, she can't quite accept that reality, not yet; it would mean that her failure is complete and irreversible, and that the world is now in terrible danger.

  “Penny for them?” a voice asks.

  Turning, she sees that Andy is working nearby, threading a rope through some kind of wooden board.

  “Just thinking about tonight,” she replies.

  “I overheard you and Mr. Raven talking just now,” he continues. “Sorry, I wasn't snooping, I just... He's a real expert, you know. When it comes to this sort of thing, he really knows what he's doing. I know some of the stuff he comes out with sounds a little nuts, but he lays it on the line, that's all. He's the boss around here, and he'll get it right.”

  “I hope so.”

  She smiles awkwardly, even though inside she's screaming.

  “Do you mind if I ask you something kinda personal?” Andy continues.

  “Go ahead,” she replies, even though she's not sure that she wants to answer.

  “Who is he?”

  “Who's who?”

  “The guy who gives you that faraway look in your eyes.” He pauses for a moment. “I've seen it in people before. There's someone out there, someone a long way away, and you miss him. You're thinking about him all the time. It's a guy, right? Someone you're in love with?”

  “It's complicated.”

  “That's your answer to everything.”

  “I have a...” She pauses, trying to work out whether she really wants to reveal so much information to a stranger. “I have a son,” she says finally. “A little boy, about fifteen months old.”

  “Seriously? Wow, that's definitely not what I thought you were gonna say.”

  “I haven't seen him since the night he was born,” she continues. “He's with some people who can take better care of him, and I won't... He doesn't need me in his life. I guess I just get sentimental sometimes, though. I want the world to be okay, so he can grow up in it and live a full life.”

  “What about the kid's father?”

  “He's not around. He... It was a brief thing, a fling. I was drunk. He doesn't even know that I ended up pregnant.”

  “Huh,” Andy replies, raising both eyebrows. “Are you sure you don't want to go and find this kid one day? I mean, everyone wants to know their real mother, and -”

  “He's better off without me.”

  “Why don't you let him decide that?”

  “He's barely a year old,” she adds. “And anyway, I can't leave Rippon. Not now, not ever. I'm stuck here, and I've come to terms with that. By keeping the Devil in his grave, I can make the world a better place for Henry. Honestly, that's the only way I can help him.”

  “I can't work out if you're being incredibly dumb,” Andy replies, “or incredible noble.”

  “Can't I be both at the same time?” She pauses. “There's nothing noble about it. I screwed up, and now I'm doing all I can to set things right. If I thought I could be the mother he needs, I'd be there in a flash, but I know enough about myself now to be absolutely certain that I have this habit of screwing everything up. I mean, look at this place. I've been here for a year and already I've done the one thing that I absolutely wasn't supposed to do.”

  “It's not your fault that the Devil got free.”

  “Isn't it?”

  “You're just one person, and the Devil's... Well, he's the Devil. That's not exactly a fair fight.”

  “There are a million excuses,” she replies, “but at the end of the day, it was my job. I'm the gardener.”

  “What if...” Pausing, Andy glances over his shoulder for a moment, as if he's worried about being overheard. “What if I told you that we came to Rippon for a reason. I mean, it's a hell of a coincidence, don't you think? Raven Revivals rocks up in town just as the Devil gets outta bed?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean old Mr. Raven just announced a couple of weeks ago that we were heading here. No explanation, no mention of a reason. He just said we're going to this little English town and we're gonna set up camp for at least a week. Tell me the guy didn't have some kind of clue that this was going to happen.”

  “There's no way he could have known,” Sam tells him. “That'd be totally impossible.”

  “And yet here we are.” He pauses again. “I'm not saying you can't trust Mr. Raven, but I'm saying he might not be telling the whole truth. He can be a pretty shifty guy, and I wouldn't believe the whole innocence act. I'm sure he's gonna help you, but something doesn't sit right with me. For as long as I've been working for him, I've felt like maybe he's holding something back, and now I think maybe he's been waiting for this moment.”

  “I'll bear that in mind,” she replies, feeling a little disturbed by the implication of Andy's warning.

  “Don't tell anyone I said this, either,” he continues. “If there's one thing Mr. Raven hates, it's disloyalty. Just... Keep on your toes, okay? Trust him, but also keep an open mind. Listen, I need to go and do some more work before the show starts, but just be careful.”

  She watches as he heads toward a door that leads into another part of the tent.

  “Why do you work with him?” she asks.

  He turns to look back at her.

  “A job's a job.”

  “But the whole revival show... Do you actually believe in it? I mean, do you really think Charles Raven has these powers?”

  “I have a kid too,” he replies. “He's back in Kansas with my wife, and I send them money every month af
ter Mr. Raven gives me my paycheck. I haven't been home in a couple of years now, so I guess I kinda understand the situation you're in. I know what it's like to be doing something for someone who's a long way off, and who I don't get to see. Sure, our positions are kinda different in other ways, but I figure there are enough similarities.” He checks over his shoulder again. “Like I said before, keep everything I told you under your hat. I'm sure Mr. Raven's a good guy, but remember that any time someone helps you, they might want something in return.”

  As he heads off to finish his work in the main part of the tent, Sam turns and looks back out at the sunset. Darkness has fallen across Rippon now, and she can't shake the feeling that somewhere out there, the Devil is waiting to make his next move. In fact, she's starting to feel as if he might even be close by, watching her from the shadows.

  Part Seven

  Into the Grave

  One

  “Are you sure you don't wanna just hang out in your room and play games?”

  “Come on,” Scott replies as he and Anna make their way across the town square, which is once again bustling with a late-night crowd that has gathered to attend the Raven Revivals show, “it'll be fun. It's not like this kind of thing happens every day in Rippon.”

  Slipping past various familiar faces, Anna looks over her shoulder and realizes that almost everyone who's anyone has turned out for the show. Even though the previous performance a few nights ago ended with the crowd screaming and running from the tent, people seem desperately keen to give Raven another chance, and Anna can't help but wonder whether the sense of hushed anticipation might be due to the fact that the locals are secretly hoping for another 'disaster'. Bad news, she figures, might just be the best way to promote a show.

  “I heard the man actually burst into flames right there on the stages,” says a nearby woman excitedly, her eyes wide with shock. “My neighbor was in the audience and she said she smelled bacon!”

  “It's all part of the show,” her companion replies. “That's what Americans do. They turn everything into show-business, even death itself. It's just one big, slick production.”

  “I heard it was pretty sick,” Scott says, smiling as he turns to Anna. “The real reason I wanna come is that I wanna work out how they did it. My friend Joe was in the audience last time and he's well up on technical stuff, but he couldn't figure it out. At the moment I'm thinking it was some kind of hologram, but I need to see it with my own eyes to be sure. They could've used cold fire, I guess, or mirrors, maybe some kinda optical illusion. There are lots of possibilities, but it's amazing that it was so convincing.”

  “Or maybe the guy actually burst into flames?” Anna suggests. “Have you considered that?”

  “No way. Health and Safety would be all over this place if that had happened, they'd've shut it down in ten seconds flat. It's a show, Anna, and the fact that everyone's queuing up to go inside is a sign that these guys really know how to suck an audience through the doors. I mean, if every person here pays the full ten pound entry fee, Raven Revivals is going to clean up! Say what you like about 'em, but these guys are geniuses!”

  Anna smiles faintly.

  “Come on,” Scott adds, putting an arm around her shoulder. “It'll be fun!”

  As the crowd's collective murmur swells, Anna turns to see that the main door has been opened and people are starting to cram their way into the tent, pushing and shoving as they jostle to get the best seats. Caught up in the sea of people, she and Scott find themselves being shuffled through the crowd until finally they're bumped through the door. A large sign hanging just inside the entrance announces that the show tonight is going to be free of charge, which only makes Anna even more curious about the real intentions of Raven Revivals. She and Scott just about manage to avoid getting knocked down and trampled, and finally they manage to reach a couple of spare seats near the back.

  As they sit down it becomes apparent that there are too many people for the tent. Some have already started to sit on the floor near the front, while others seem content to remain standing at the back. Back at the door, the attendant is gesturing for more people to enter, as if he wants to make the audience as large as possible.

  “Merchandise,” Scott says, nudging Anna's arm. “That must be how they're gonna make money. Get as many people in as possible, and then sell loads of mugs and books at the end. Plus word of mouth. They probably want everyone to start tweeting about the show, and then the offers'll start coming in from all over the place. It's pretty goddamn smart if you think about it.” He glances down at her leg. “Hey, did you hurt yourself?”

  She looks at the bandage just above her ankle, covering the tattoo.

  “Oh, yeah, it's just a scratch.”

  “But -”

  “Seriously, it's nothing,” she continues, hoping to change the subject. “This place is wild, huh? I still can't believe it's shown up here in Rippon!”

  “They're probably just piloting it here,” he tells her. “It actually makes a lot of sense from a business point of view.”

  Smiling politely, Anna cranes her neck to get a better view of the stage. She can't help thinking that Sam must be around somewhere, but so far there's no sign. As she turns to look back toward the door, still hoping to spot Sam, she realizes that there's a distinct sense of unease in the pit of her stomach, almost as if she can feel something terrible getting closer. She watches as the last audience members squeeze inside, at which point the attendant struggles but finally manages to get the door shut, sealing everyone in the tent. Turning back to look at the stage, Anna tries to tell herself not to panic.

  “Everyone quiet!” a voice calls out from the front. “We're ready to get this show on the road!”

  ***

  “The Shackle of San Shaheth is one of the most powerful items in existence,” Charles Raven says somberly as he stands on the stage a few minutes later, holding a pair of rusty old metal rings connected by a small section of chain-link. “Handed down from generation to generation, its survival kept a secret from all but a few souls, this object has been held back for the day when it might finally be used again. That day has arrived. According to legend, the Shackle of San Shaheth was once placed around the wrists of the Devil himself, and its great purity burned through his flesh and caused him agonizing pain! He cursed and screamed, but he could not free himself.”

  “This is mental,” Scott whispers, leaning over to Anna. “Do you think this guy actually believes what he's saying or -”

  “Ssh!” she hisses, sitting forward and squinting in an attempt to get a better view of the metal rings. They certainly looks old and worn, and there's something almost barbaric about their appearance.

  “It is written in one of the forbidden testaments,” Raven continues, “that the Devil was led through the streets of a small town known as San Shaheth. His evil was contained by these shackles as he was jeered by the locals, until finally he was taken to a freshly-dug grave just beyond the town's boundary. The Shackle of San Shaheth kept him from using his great powers to escape, and he was thrown into the grave before he had a chance to beg for his life with his serpent-like tongue. It is said that he cried out in great anger as soil was shoveled over him. He told those gathered nearby that anyone who rescued him would be granted eternal paradise at his side, but the men kept filling the grave until the job was done and the soil muffled his voice.”

  He pauses for effect.

  “It is the great tragedy of mankind,” he adds finally, “that sometimes it takes only one foolish individual to destroy everything. Of those who were gathered around the Devil's grave that day, it can be said that all but one held true faith in their hearts. Sadly, that one false-faithed individual was enough to bring great darkness back to the world. In this case, a miller was induced to return to the grave at night and start digging. When he freed the Devil, he removed the Shackle of San Shaheth and begged to be granted the paradise that was offered. The Devil burned that man to death and sent him to the de
epest bowels of Hell, for the Devil considers Hell to be a paradise. I can assure you, however, that the miller has been suffering agonizing pain ever since that night. Such is the fate of all those who make a bargain with the Devil, but now...”

  He holds up the metal rings and rattles them, causing a general gasp from the audience.

  “Can you imagine that these could contain the might of the Devil?” he asks. “They are so powerful, they can bind him into weakness. Any other living creature would immediately burn if they were to wear these shackles.”

  “Can you believe this guy?” Scott whispers.

  “Now we have a chance to put right the mistake that was made all those years ago,” Raven continues. “It is my solemn duty, ladies and gentlemen, to inform you that the Devil is among us tonight. He is close by in this very town and he will make himself known before too long. It is a curious combination of circumstances that have led him to Rippon, but now the time has arrived to end his reign of terror once and for all. With your help, however, I hope to use the Shackle of San Shaheth and bind him back down into his grave. First, however, I must ensure that not one person in this room will listen to his foul words or consider helping him to escape. The consequences would be disastrous, and mankind would be doomed. Remember the fate of that miller. Remember that if the Devil offers you paradise, it will be a paradise crafted by his own hands.”

  “So this was in some forbidden testament, yeah?” Scott whispers skeptically. “And now this circus guy just happens to have got hold of this Shackle of Whatever. Call me crazy, but I smell a steaming pile of -”

  “Quiet!” Anna replies, nudging him in the ribs. “I want to hear!”