Weeping Moon

by Sara Clancy

  “We have her attention,” Nicole gasped, dumbfounded.

  “Drive now,” Benton said.

  A heavy strike against the roof rocked the jeep. The scrape became a slash as the Pontianak tried to claw its way in. Before the engine had time to roar to life, she had already stomped down on the gas.

  The jeep lurched forward, kicking up dust and gravel, the back wheels slipping slightly as she struggled to keep it under control. Weaving through the array of cars, Nicole shot for the entrance. The Pontianak’s midnight hair seeped down from the top of the windshield, crawling like a living thing to cover the glass. Nicole yanked hard on the wheel. Barely an inch separated the side of the jeep from the van they passed. Benton wasn’t prepared to hit the embankment. It sent them flying, sailing in an arch before crashing back down into the towering grass, the impact smacking Benton against the dashboard.

  “Seatbelt,” Nicole spoke on reflex.

  Fear laced her voice. She tried to hide it, but it rung strong and true. With another lurch, she dragged the jeep from the depths and forced it up back onto the main road. Bracing himself against the door and dashboard, Benton tried to slow his breathing. Succeeding filled him with terror. Because it wasn’t his success. The now familiar sensation of turning into stone started at his feet and worked its way up his body. Solidifying his legs and freezing his lungs. His breaths lightened into wheezes until they threatened to stop altogether.

  “Benton?” Nicole asked.

  “Keep going,” he forced out sharply. Breathe. Just breathe. Keep your voice.

  Steadily, the Pontianak seeped into the edges of his vision. She kept pace along the side of the jeep, her unblinking eyes restlessly searching for what they couldn’t see. He sunk back just as Nicole swung the wheel again. This time not taking them away from the spirit but sideswiping it. Contact came with a squish of liquid and a crack of bone. The Pontianak scattered, releasing an electric charge into the air that sizzled along the hair on Benton’s body. It’s coming into the car!

  “Do it,” Nicole said, pressing one hand hard over the ear nearest him.

  Gathering what air he could, he released a scream. It was shrill and weak. Still strong enough to make the windows rattle even if it couldn’t shatter them. The static energy surged to an unbearable pitch before just as suddenly fading away. Benton flopped forward, pressing his head against his knees as he coughed and sputtered.

  “Are you okay?” Nicole asked.

  “Drive faster.”

  The engine strained as she forced it faster. Having studied the backroads in detail, Nicole weaved from one path to another, keeping to the little patrolled routes. Not that there was enough of a police force in town to actually monitor the roads during a festival. Pain inched into his jaw. Tightening each muscle and tendon until Benton was sure the bones would break if he tried to speak. His nails slipped over the plastic of the dashboard as he tried to straighten, still battling to breathe.

  Something brushed over his knuckles. A soft, tender caress that made him snap his gaze up. Midnight hair slithered through the vents like snakes to twist around his wrist. He pulled his hand back, barely able to make it more than an inch before the hair drew him back. Milky slick fingertips worked their way through the dark strands. They wiggled against the tightly placed slates that covered the vents, making the plastic squeak and groan. Still fighting to free himself, he reached his free hand out to Nicole. With her focus locked on the roads, she hadn’t noticed what was happening right beside her.

  “What is it?” she asked, still unable to look at him while she took a short cut between two roads, crashing through the golden grass and bucking over the uneven earth.

  Benton wheezed, unable to summon his voice. His lungs began to swell as they hardened. His elbow crystalized as he smacked his hand against Nicole’s thigh. He was prepared for her startled scream. Not for the sudden slam of breaks. The seatbelt cut across his chest and gut. A sudden crushing blow that shattered the rock encasing his lungs. Nicole threw the jeep into reverse and stomped down, once more throwing him about. Air rushed deep into his lungs, and he gathered it within an instant. His scream still didn’t have its usual power. Without warning, Nicole swung the jeep around, cutting across another field and throwing him about like a ball in a pinball machine.

  “Is she gone? Can you see her?”

  Benton heaved a few deep breaths before he was able to work up a response. Even then, it was still little more than a grunt. Nicole fell into a silence that neither of them was ready to disturb. Benton flattened himself against his seat and kept a constant, paranoid visual.

  “You’re with me?” Nicole asked.

  He nodded.

  “Good. Get the backpack for me? Start following what you can from the list. I don’t think we’re going to have much time when we get there.”

  The seatbelt locked into place a few times before he was able to reach it. Drawing it up into his lap, he rummaged through the array of items before he was able to find the list. Dizzy from lack of oxygen, he could barely focus his eyes enough to read the scribbled print. Beyond being all dried plant life, he couldn’t put any link between the items. He knew the scents of the herbs but couldn’t put a name to them. The plant cuttings looked somewhat familiar. He combined them in the bowl as best he could, adding the powders and hoping that he had the proportions right.

  The loud cry of an infant made them both freeze.

  “It’s loud. So it’s not too close,” Nicole said.

  As if in challenge, the cry steadily softened at her words. Benton twisted in his seat, searching out every window. All around them, the winter grass swayed like spun gold. His renovated farmhouse rose up from the gilded ocean. His barn a dark lump set nearby. Above, thick clouds hung low on a beautiful blue sky. A placid calm hung over the world, creating the illusion that nothing exciting could ever happen in such a sleepy town.

  “Almost there,” Nicole said. “Get ready.”

  The paper crumpled between his palm and the bowl. He vaguely remembered to check for a lighter in Nicole’s bag before, with a final heave, they burst free of the towering grass and into the mowed field of his yard. The Pontianak materialized before them, eyes blazing behind the curtain of dark hair. Nicole revved the engine, urging the jeep on until it whined and strained. Crashing into the Pontianak scattered it like ash, the tiny specks flying in all directions and reveling the side of the barn. Nicole dropped her full weight onto the break. The wheels locked but the soft earth gave them no traction, forcing them into a slide. Red painted wood filled the windshield as they drove close still to the barn. Benton pulled on the emergency brake, forcing the jeep to fishtail. With one last gasp of the engine, the jeep finally came to a sudden stop. Benton shoved the bowl at Nicole and struggled with his seatbelt.

  “I’ll get it in the barn,” he said.

  Nicole gaped at him. “I haven’t done this before.”

  “No time like the present,” Benton said as he kicked open the door and threw himself out.

  A quick sprint got him through the open barn doors. The moment he entered the shadows gathered within the large building. The world went silent. His panted breath turned to mist before him as the temperature plummeted. Oliver. Benton had found the old owners body buried in a shallow grave on his first night in Fort Wayward. He had lingered ever since, steadily devolving over the months into something not quite recognizable as human. Benton could feel the dead man’s presence even as he remained unseen. The gloom that gathered around the rafters offered him a thousand hiding places. Somewhere, seemingly far in the distance, a baby began to cry.

  His bones ached, and his muscles twitched as he worked his way deeper into the cavernous room. The dirt floor shifted under his cautious steps. For a moment, it seemed as if the soft whimpering came from all around him at once. Dust drifted down from above as something shifted in the darkness. He could feel the powers closing in around him even as they remained unseen. Come on, Nicole, he whispered in his hea
d. Come on. Come on. Come on. Fine shivers shook him as he forced himself to linger. Give her more time. This’ll work. It has to work. His reassurances weren’t enough to keep the reality from creeping in. I really screwed up.

  Soft cries grew weaker. The floorboards looming above him creaked and groaned, releasing constant waves of dust. Benton spun on his heel, coming face to face with the blazing, dead eyes of the Pontianak. Her nose flared as she sniffed the air before his face.

  “What are you?”

  Movement flashed overhead, bringing the sound of cracking twigs. Mr. Ackerman rushed down from the shadows on all fours. His joints pushed the wrong way as his limp hands and feet distorted into a cluster of gnarled roots. He landed before the Pontianak, his roots instantly twisted through the exposed earth. To move, he had to break the twisted vines, and he didn’t hesitate to do so. It sounded like snapping bones. The Pontianak caught Mr. Ackerman’s scent. Instantly, her hair reared up like a spider ready to strike. Her lips pulled back into a snarl that Ackerman mirrored.

  The sudden burst of blistering air hit Benton like a steam grate. He reeled back, protecting his face as best he could, choking on the gathering heat. There was barely time to blink before the entire barn felt like a sauna. Two more breaths and the place became a sweat lodge. Hot enough to boil the flesh on his bones. Flames burst into existence. They sliced over the floor like in an intricate pattern, mapping out symbols he couldn’t see from his position. Benton leaped away, careful not to let the lashing flames touch him. The scares on his palm throbbed as the heat climbed. Sweat dripped into his eyes, distorting his already light blurred vision.

  The two ghosts clashed, and the fires exploded into an inferno. There wasn’t any place left to run. Crackling flames, crunching bones, and an infant’s squeal assaulted his ears. Bleeding into his mind to distort his thoughts further. He lost track of which way was out. All he knew was to keep moving. Keep ahead of the ghosts. Don’t let the flames touch you. Get out! He repeated the commands over and over until they lost all meaning. The barn trembled around him as the fire spread. Embers spewed into the air, searing what parts of his flesh that they could find.

  The scream and roar of flames rose to a deafening pace. He staggered under the weight of it, knees almost buckling to sprawl him across the inferno. Sure hands wrapped around his arm as the earth began to tremble. He struggled to break free, but the hand held strong, dragging him almost too quickly for his feet to keep up. Nicole?

  The flames consumed his senses. Pain exploded in every cell. Each breath was agony.

  Then suddenly it was gone.

  The world rocked, and he fell, toppling onto Nicole as he drew in hurried breaths of the frigid night hair. The entire barn stood ravaged by flames, and still, the structure held. He watched until the pain grew too much, and he was forced to squeeze his eyelids shut.

  “Benton?” Nicole asked. “Did it work? Can you see the aurora?”

  “No.”

  Barely suppressed panic sizzled within her voice. “I’ll try again. Tell me if you see her coming.”

  “You don’t see the fire?”

  Shielding his eyes and squinting made it bearable to look at her.

  Her brow furrowed. “Fire?”

  It clicked for them both at the same moment. The flames of the pit. The ones only he could see.

  “Oh, God,” Nicole whimpered.

  “We just created cursed earth.”

  ***

  “We poisoned the earth near town,” Nicole said numbly.

  “Does repeating it help?” Benton asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Then please stop.”

  Flopping her book down, she looked over her shoulder to glare at him. Two days had passed since they had set the barn alight. Periodically, they checked on it, just to see if it was still burning. It was. And while Benton could sense both spirits, he couldn’t ever see them in the flames.

  The hardest part was getting in and out without running into Benton’s parents. They hadn’t stopped calling, but after a stern warning from the Constable, they had kept away from the Rider residence. Benton refused to have anything to do with them. He wouldn’t even let Nicole nudge the conversation in the direction. So it had been forty-eight hours of paranoia, guilt, and general anxiety.

  Stretched out across the foot of her bed, she had been trying to read the same page for the last hour. Benton had taken to using her back as a pillow, letting his mind drift as he listened to his headphones.

  “Do you want to talk about-”

  “Nope,” Benton chirped.

  “You need to some time.”

  He pulled out one earplug. “What did you want to cover first? The whole impending death thing? The fact that I can be hijacked by spirits? Oh, I was also swapped out at birth. That could be a good conversation starter. Or how about the fact that my parents had decided sudden emotional distance with no explanation would be the better choice than telling me the truth? Your Elders hate me, I’m now homeless, I have no idea what to do with Adam, and I still haven’t read Dracula. Find any of those topics interesting?”

  “Yes. All of them,” she said. “We should talk about all of them. In detail.”

  “Nah. I think I’m going to stick to ‘suppress and deny.’”

  “That sound healthy.”

  He snorted and settled down against her spine again. Nicole sighed. Go at his pace. Don’t push it. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.

  “For the record, you’re not homeless. You always have us.”

  “Thanks,” Benton mumbled sheepishly. “I’m sorry the powwow didn’t work out. If you want to go back for a while, we could.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but no thank you.”

  “Oh, thank God. I need at least a year before I have to see Daniel again.”

  She chuckled. “Fine. Okay, I’m going to let it go. Just remember, I’m here when you want to talk about it.”

  “I know.”

  “You might want to take a nap,” she said. “We’re meeting the Auclairs for dinner in a few hours.”

  He groaned. “Yay.”

  “You like Adam.”

  “The little guy’s alright,” Benton admitted reluctantly. “I’m not too keen on the rest of the family.”

  “What a surprise,” she replied.

  This was the only way he would let her help him. Light teasing and mindless distractions. Just be patient, she told herself. It was a virtue that she’d have to learn quickly.

  “I’m sorry I’m always a problem,” he said abruptly.

  “You’re never more than you’re worth.”

  “Like I believe that.”

  A small smile curled her lips. “Do you want to make it up to me?”

  He popped out an earbud again and looked at her cautiously. “Yeah.”

  “What’s the website for your dance academy?”

  Benton broke the first real smile she had seen in far too long and put the earbud back.

  “Benton?” she asked, only to be ignored. She smiled slightly. “Fine. I’ll find it on my own. We both know I will.”

  * * *

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