Paranormal After Dark

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Paranormal After Dark Page 312

by Rebecca Hamilton


  With a roar that sounded as though he was tearing himself from physical bonds, Otto leapt to his feet, knocking Tom out of the way as though he were little more than a child. Taking huge strides, he bounded across the floor, heading to where Sky and Billy waited. They stood perilously close to the edge of the cavern, to where the floor ended and the drop into the depths of the earth began.

  Within moments, Otto had crossed the cavern. He pulled back his fist and hit Billy with full force, knocking the skinny man off balance.

  Billy teetered on the edge, his arms flailing like a character in a cartoon. He almost regained his balance, but Otto yelled again and jumped at him and they both plummeted off the edge and into the bowels of hell.

  Samantha screamed—a blood-curdling sound—her hands at her mouth.

  Frozen in shock, Tom and Sky stood staring at the empty space the two men had left, hardly daring to believe what they’d seen. Sky let out a howl of anguish and dropped to the ground, her head hung in grief.

  Tom looked at Samantha, her hands still covering her mouth, and at Sky collapsed on the ground, and the bottom dropped out of his world. Whatever they had hoped to achieve down here was never going to happen now.

  With only him and two women left to fight the Shadows, it was a fight they had already lost.

  * * *

  TOM ALLOWED SKY and Samantha a minute to allow what had happened to sink in, and then he helped them to their feet. With an arm around each woman, he hustled them to the side of the cavern near the entrance chute, away from both the deadly stalactites above and the terrifying drop.

  Both women wept quietly and he pulled them down to sitting, their backs against the cavern wall.

  “We should go back,” Tom said reluctantly. “Head back while there might still be time to see my son and kiss him goodbye.”

  Sky looked up at him, wiping tears from her cheeks, her bloodshot eyes narrowing in confusion. “Why would we head back?”

  He gestured around him. “In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re not exactly an army anymore.”

  “We’re no different than we were before.” She paused and said, “It was only ever supposed to be you, Tom. The rest of us were only here to make sure you made it in one piece.”

  “There’s no point in me going back,” Samantha said, the first words she’d spoken since Otto had killed Billy. “I’m sick. I can feel the Shadows in here,” she tapped her temple, “moving around, trying to take over.”

  “What!” Sky reeled back, her eyes welling with fresh tears.

  “I think that’s what was wrong with Otto.” Her gaze focused on her lap. A drop of blood fell from the end of her nose and plopped on the back of her hand like a tear. “When he pulled me out of the way of the stalactite, he must have passed the Shadows on to me. He was right about Billy being a carrier.”

  “Oh, Jesus, Samantha,” Tom said. He felt utterly useless. He had no idea what he should do.

  She lifted her head and stared at him with abject fear in her dark eyes.

  “What can we do?” Tom tore his eyes from Samantha’s to turn to Sky. He couldn’t stand to look at the other woman. The pain etched across her features was too much to bear.

  But Sky’s gaze remained focused on Samantha. She answered without even looking at him.

  “You need to do what you’ve always been supposed to do.” She shifted her gaze to him, Samantha’s pain reflected in her eyes. “You’ve got to finish this thing, Tom. You’ve got to do it for David and for Samantha. For all of us.”

  “I’ll do everything I can,” he said. It was the first time he had accepted his fate without a fight.

  He still needed any information she might have. Sky’s previous antagonism towards him had disappeared—he guessed he’d earned his stripes over the last few hours—and he hoped she would be willing to share whatever she’d learnt during her lifetime in this hellhole.

  “Talk to me, Sky. You know this place better than anyone. If you can tell me anything that might help....”

  She lifted her wide eyes to his, her small, elfin face appearing even younger than before.

  “I’m sorry, Tom, but I’ve told you everything there is to know.”

  He took a deep, shaky breath. He’d been hoping for some miracle solution, some secret that would open a thousand doors, but he was left with nothing. Whatever he had seen and experienced over the last few hours, he was still just a slightly overweight salesman who loved his family and only wanted an easy life.

  “What about you?” he asked Sky, refocusing his attention from himself. “Are you going to be all right? What if it changes Samantha and she tries to infect you as well? That’s what the Shadows does, right?” he said, remembering what Samantha had told him in the first cavern. “It changes people’s behaviour to pass from person to person?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t need to worry. I guess I’m more like you than I would like to admit. The Shadows can’t affect me either. I’ve been exposed so many times, but I’m still okay.”

  “I didn’t realise.”

  She shrugged. “Why would you? Look, don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

  “So what now?”

  “Now we need to find out how to get you down to the next level.”

  * * *

  WITH SAMANTHA SAFETY ensconced against the cavern wall, wedged under a small shelf in the rock, Tom and Sky started the search of the cavern.

  “What are we looking for?” Tom asked.

  “I’m not exactly sure. It could be an obvious hole in the floor like the ones we’ve seen before or perhaps a narrow fissure.”

  “So you’ve not been down this way before?”

  Sky didn’t speak for a moment. “I was down there once, as a child, but I don’t remember.”

  Tom’s heart leapt in hope. “You mean like me? You went down and then forgot?”

  She shook her head. “No, I was too young to remember.”

  “Too young?” he started, intrigued, but Sky had already turned away, using her torch to inspect every nook and cranny in the cavern floor and walls.

  She’d moved away from him again, withdrawing because he had dared to pry into a life that was solely hers. Sky was a strange one and, even though she was a grown woman, Tom couldn’t help but feel protective over her, despite her earlier obvious dislike of him. He believed the hard act to be no more than that—an act. Beneath still lived a child who’d grown up in a world no child should have to experience.

  Pushing thoughts of Sky away, he began a meticulous search of the huge cavern, inspecting every inch for something that might signal another way out. Sky worked in the same way on the other side of the cave. But even after they’d almost met back up in the centre, they’d found nothing.

  Tom knotted a fist in his hair in frustration. Perhaps Sky was wrong and the entrance wasn’t here.

  Suddenly a voice spoke in his head—David’s voice—as clearly as though the boy stood next to him.

  Maybe the entrance is obvious, Daddy. So obvious you just aren’t seeing it.

  Tom frowned. He must have imagined his son’s voice.

  However, with an awful sinking sensation in his gut, the answer dawned on him and he wished he hadn’t thought of it. He knew of one obvious way out of here; a way two of them had already taken.

  Tom walked back to the edge where they’d witnessed Billy and Otto plunge to their deaths. The light given off by the phosphorescence illuminated the first few feet of the sheer edge. Where the light started to fade, a slim ledge, only about a foot wide, protruded from the cliff face. If Tom was right in his thinking, the entrance to the Underlife would be somewhere just above the ledge, hidden from view.

  The drop to the ledge wasn’t far, but just the thought of the space beyond made his legs tremble and his head spin. It would only take one little slip. What if the ledge wasn’t solid? What if some kind of substance made it as slippery as ice? What if...?

  Tom forced himself to stop. He should
n’t freak himself out and he needed to keep his head on his shoulders. This was probably not going to be the worst thing he would have to do down here. In fact—remembering the feel of Jo’s cold, lifeless skin under his fingertips—he had already done far worse.

  He could do this. He had to do this.

  “You’ve found the entrance.” Sky’s voice came from behind his left shoulder.

  He nodded. “I think so.”

  “It makes sense. I can’t find any other way out of this place other than the way we came in.” Sky stepped forward and leant over the drop. She visibly shivered and stepped back.

  “Are you ready to do this?” she asked, biting her lower lip anxiously.

  “Are you coming?”

  She shook her head. “You’ve got to do this one on your own. I’ll stay here with Samantha. You do whatever the hell you’re supposed to and make her better.”

  “And David,” he said. “I’ll make David better.”

  She offered him a smile, the first he’d received from her. “Yes, him too.”

  Together, they made their way back to the small nook where Samantha waited with their bags. She looked up at them with haunted eyes. The expression in her eyes struck fear through Tom’s heart. He was scared she would lose her mind or be driven to do something desperate like Otto had. He knew Sky would take care of her—strangely, out of all of the people he had met down here, he now trusted Sky the most. But that didn’t stop him from worrying. He had two lives in his hands: David and Samantha’s. If he didn’t stop the Shadows, he would have both their blood on his hands.

  “It’s time for me to go,” he told her.

  Samantha nodded her acceptance, too scared and confused to argue with him.

  Tom picked up his backpack. It was lighter than at the start of his journey—much of the tinned food having been eaten—and he slung it over his shoulder. He almost considered not bothering to take the bag; he struggled to believe the Shadows would allow him to live long enough to need to sleep or eat a meal, but then he thought of the torch and the photograph of Abby and David and decided to keep it with him.

  “Be careful,” Sky told him. “Remember, you’re going to be in its territory now. Just because the Shadows can’t infect you, doesn’t mean it can’t mess with your mind. Don’t believe everything you see and hear.”

  “I still have no idea what I’m even supposed to be doing.”

  “You’re stronger than you think, you can contain it. Have faith. You’ve done it once before, you can do it again.”

  “I hope you’re right.” He sighed.

  Both the women regarded him with such expectant hope and faith in their eyes. He hoped he wouldn’t let them down—hoped he could be what they needed him to be.

  “Right,” he said, resigning himself to his fate. “I guess I’ll be off.”

  Samantha struggled to her feet. She reached up and placed both hands either side of his face before standing on tiptoes and kissing him hard on the mouth. No passion or lust heated the kiss.

  Instead, it felt she was kissing him goodbye.

  Chapter 20

  FEELING OUT OF shape and ungainly, Tom knelt at the edge of the drop and turned around. He shuffled backwards, reaching with his feet for the edge of the cliff and the drop.

  It came quickly.

  With his heart in his throat, he climbed off the edge and lowered himself down, waiting for the solid ledge to break the sensation of dangling in mid-air.

  He couldn’t find it, his feet waving in the air. Had he missed it somehow, perhaps misjudged where he’d needed to start from and bypassed the ledge completely?

  His upper body now took his weight and he worried the backpack would pull him off balance. His biceps trembled with the effort of holding his body and the muscles in his back screamed with pain, reminding him how unfit he’d become. He didn’t think he would be able to hold his position much longer. He was terrified if he lowered himself down any farther he wouldn’t be able to get back up.

  But then his feet touched stone and he breathed a sigh of relief and slowly allowed his weight to drop onto the ledge.

  Would it hold or would the stone crumble beneath his feet?

  Tom clung to the edge. He was terrified of toppling backwards, of plummeting into the fathomless depth behind him, just like Billy and Otto had before him. His fingertips clung to the hard stone, hanging onto pitiful finger-holds in the rock.

  He forced his gaze down and saw, at knee level, the passageway he’d been looking for. To reach it, he needed to let go. He would have to crouch down, throwing his centre of gravity off balance. Nerves churned in his stomach and his head swam with vertigo.

  Carefully, Tom did what he needed to. With legs that shook beneath him, he crouched down.

  The entrance to the Underlife was little more than a hole. The phosphorescence that lit the rest of the cavern encroached the first few feet, but then disappeared into darkness. A thick sludge covered the floor of the tunnel. Tom reached inside and mulch squished beneath his fingers. The walls were made of the same stuff. He hoped he wouldn’t climb inside only to slide out again.

  Tom groaned as he pulled himself into the hole and started to crawl. The damp seeped through his clothing. Dirty water dripped from the roof and dribbled down the back of his neck, making him wince. His backpack scraped against the roof, dislodging more of the sludgy material, and he grimaced as debris hit his lower back.

  He’d never been so alone. Only the sound of his own breath filled his ears.

  The passageway wasn’t tall enough for him to stand or even crouch, so he army-crawled with his elbows in the muck, his knees and feet digging in, trying to give him traction. He sensed something move inside the wall beside him and he flinched away and froze until whatever it was burrowed deeper into the dirt.

  Taking a deep breath, he forced himself on.

  Something moved beneath the palm of his hand and he snatched it away. Ahead, he heard something scuttle across the floor.

  “Shit!”

  In the tight confines of the tunnel, Tom managed to reach around and pull his torch out of his bag. He flicked the switch and the beam of light flooded the space ahead. Beetles with hard-shelled bodies and rippling, jointed legs scuttled out of the way. He could hear their legs scratching against the earth, like nails scratching a scalp. Mucus began to drip from the ceiling and the smell of rotting vegetation clogged his nostrils.

  There was no getting away from the fact he had moved into a different realm. This place felt alive, as though he were crawling through the intestines of some giant animal. He could practically sense the walls pulsing around him like peristalsis, pushing him through.

  Tom hoped this wasn’t where he’d need to confront the Shadows. Whatever existed at its core would be something nightmares were made of, and though he was supposed to have some ‘secret’ way of fighting the Shadows, he hoped the moment wouldn’t be here. The tunnel left him no room to manoeuvre and the thought of being trapped in this hole while that flowing black tar swamped him was suffocating.

  He kept moving, arm over arm, pulling himself through the sludge. Bugs wriggled and squirmed beneath his body and he tried to push the thought of them out of his mind and focus on moving forward.

  The wormhole had a distinct slant and Tom sensed he was still heading deeper. The air felt thin, as though he were at a high altitude instead of somewhere in the bowels of the earth.

  Suddenly, he heard something and stopped crawling. His heart pounded and he held his breath, his ears straining to isolate the sound he thought he’d heard.

  But he didn’t need to try.

  What at first had been a distant whisper, as faint as a breeze rustling through the leaves of trees, quickly built. Within seconds, the sound of a thousand whispering voices surrounded him.

  Tom covered his ears with his hands and bent his head down, trying to protect himself from the onslaught as though the voices were an actual physical force.

  The whispers see
med to be coming out of the walls. The thought that the walls were alive, made up of living tissue pulsating around him, came to him again. This time, he couldn’t dismiss it as an overactive imagination. Somehow he felt sure the Shadows lived all around him, sensing his every move.

  Did it know he was coming?

  The Shadows must be able to sense him. Yet Tom had managed to carry part of it with him, the part that had somehow infected his son thirty years later, without it causing him any harm.

  As though the thought opened a crack in time, Tom felt himself slip through the fabric of reality.

  In a heartbeat, he was a child again.

  His limbs were still wrapped around his head, only now they felt small and impossibly skinny. His thin fingers pressed against shell-like ears. The tunnel had grown around him, so his back no longer pressed against the roof. Only the tunnel hadn’t grown, he realised—he’d become smaller.

  He could still hear the voices, only now they were inside his head, instead of being external. And now he knew what the voices were—the voices of those before him, the ones the Shadows had already taken.

  Was his own voice mixed with the others, all whispering in the dark? He felt strange, as though he’d become a part of the Shadows now, at one with the voices.

  Had the Shadows already taken him? Or had it always been a part of him?

  Leave me alone!

  He hissed the thought in his head. For a moment, the whispering increased, swelling in a crescendo, and the child-like Tom cowered under its onslaught. But then, as suddenly as they had arrived, the voices retreated. A pressure seemed to lift off his mind and the reality of his childhood pulled away.

  * * *

  BACK IN THE real world, the voices also vanished.

  Tom groaned and let his forehead drop into the mud. Exhaustion swallowed his body, creeping along his limbs like a demon trying to drag him under.

 

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