by Sara Clancy
“No,” Benton answered with certainty. “It had other nests that it needed to abandon.”
Nicole made a soft sound of understanding but didn’t question how he knew that. He was grateful for that. Right now, he didn’t want to think about how much of this monster would live on, tucked away deep with his brain. He distracted himself by trying to think of something that he could say that would offer some measure of comfort to his friend. But nothing came to mind.
“Benton?” she asked numbly.
“Yes.”
“There’s brains on my shoe.”
***
Sweat plastered the back of her shirt to her skin as she stood up and brushed her hands off on her jeans. For all of their efforts, the pit wasn’t that deep. The small collapsible, camping shovel that she kept in her car for emergencies wasn’t ideal for digging graves in the solid earth. Her shoulders ached as she lifted her hands over her head. Benton, having scrambled out before her, reached down to help her up. They were both too exhausted and sore for the movement to have any dignity in it. Her boots loosened up clumps of earth as she scraped the walls in an attempt to be helpful. Eventually, they managed to get her out of the pit and they trudged the short distance to her jeep.
She glanced at him. “You look like hell.”
“I just got back.” The retort came quickly but his weak smirk took longer.
Spring had to be the worst possible time to try and discreetly bury a body. It was past nine and the sun was only now inching down towards the horizon. The towering grass shone like gold in the dwindling light and offered them a slight amount of cover as they pulled the mangled remains of the monster out from the boot of her jeep. The sudden jerk of weight made her shoulders throb and her fingers clutched to keep her grip on its ankles. Benton had mercifully agreed to take the arms. She wasn’t sure if she could stomach being near its crushed skull. Shuffling back to the pit, Benton seemed desperate for some kind of distraction. “When did you decide you were going to come for me?”
Nicole grunted as she adjusted her grip. “It was never a question.”
Just when she was sure she couldn’t go another step, they reached the pit and let the body drop. A puff of dust drifted up on the impact and they both took a moment to catch their breaths. When they were able to straighten, they kicked the body into the hole.
“Thank you.”
“Any time you need a serial killing Leanan Sidhe shot up, I’m your girl.”
“A what?”
“I’ll explain it later,” she dismissed as they slumped down and began to push the pile of loose earth over the corpse. “You’re a banshee by the way. I figured that out, too.”
He paused to look at her. “I’m going to have follow-up questions.”
“I see a lot of research in our futures,” she said instead of admitting that she had pretty much revealed the complete extent of her knowledge.
She remembered a heartbeat later that the gun and vest had to go in too. They dropped onto the body with a thick thud. It was a lot quicker to fill it back in than it was to dig it up, but still, the sky was ablaze with the final gasps of the sunset when they finished.
“Are you sure it won’t be found here?” Benton said.
They had picked one of the paths that delved deeper into the unmapped area, following it until the road ended.
“Well, this place isn’t supposed to be here, so I think so.”
“What do you mean?”
“Town history mentioned only eight properties in this area. That basement was of a ninth. There is no record that anything was ever built around here.”
“Well, someone built there. Why would people remember all the others but forget that one?”
They slumped against each other, shoulder to shoulder, both the only thing keeping the other upright.
“I’m starting to think that there’s a lot more to Fort Wayward than I know,” Nicole admitted.
Silence descended over them until, a peace neither was keen to break until Benton mumbled, “You’re a good friend.”
Too tired to fully celebrate her victory, she let her head fall onto his shoulder and hummed in agreement. Nicole had forgotten about her mobile phone until it began to announce a Skype call. Fishing it out of her pocket, she checked the caller ID and began to battle her hair into some kind of order.
“Just let it ring out,” Benton said.
“It’s Professor Lester.”
“I don’t know who that is.”
As she pulled his hood up to hide his blood soaked scalp, she explained what he was calling about and how, if she didn’t answer, he would contact her mother. When they were somewhat presentable, she answered the call and forced a bright smile. Professor Lester’s eyes darted between them, suspicious of their frazzled appearance, but didn’t mention it.
“You owe me,” Lester growled. “That symbol is from an obscure cult that faded into oblivion around 64 BC. Do you know how hard that is to find?”
“I really appreciate it,” Nicole smiled.
Lester rolled his eyes but continued. “I only bothered to get the basics.”
She made her voice shine with happiness. “Basics are great.”
He sugared his tea as he continued, “So this cult believed that there was a kind of supernatural lay that rested over the world. When something tied to that world died, it marked the spot, which, in theory, would send other supernatural creatures scattering.”
“What’s this got to do with the painting on my barn?” Benton asked.
Lester glared, his mouth scrunching up until Nicole assured him that they wouldn’t interrupt again.
“As I was saying,” he accentuated. “The problem was, this death was like a controlled burn. It gets rid of creatures for the present. But as soon as it grew back, it lures more critters to the area. And then, of course, predators follow the critters.”
“They thought that killing a supernatural creature would lure more dangerous supernatural creatures to the area?” Nicole said.
“Essentially.” He leisurely sipped at his tea, ignoring the impatience of the teenagers. “In keeping with the analogy, the symbol was designed to salt the earth. To stop anything from growing back. No growth, no monsters.”
“Does it work?” Benton blurted.
Lester eyed him for a long moment, his brow furrowed. “Do a lot of squiggles help stop mythological creatures from migrating to an area where an imaginary fog was disturbed?” He rolled his eyes. “Sure. Why not? Look, Nicole, I have a class to teach. Good luck with your research.”
“Can you send through the research you already did?” she hurriedly asked.
Professor Lester made a noncommittal noise that she chose to assume was agreement. She had just enough time to thank him before the screen went dark. Beside her, Benton heaved a heavy breath and appeared to deflate upon its release.
“We totally screwed up, didn’t we?” he mumbled.
“No,” she rushed. “We’ll just put the symbol here. And one in the basement. It will be fine. It’ll all be fine.”
She felt him watching her and slowly turned to meet his gaze.
“Do you really believe that?” he asked.
“Not exactly. But I do believe that we can handle whatever comes our way.”
A fleeting smile crossed his face and she turned to watch the wind playing with the long grass.
“The banshee and the neurotic teen,” Benton smiled.
She gave him a rueful smile. “Best friends.”
“I never agreed to best.”
* * *
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
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