The Shattered Seam (Seam Stalkers Book 1)

by Kathleen Groger

  Eric nodded. He paused the first camera’s playback and searched for the corresponding feed from the other camera. It took a few minutes, but he got the recordings synced to when I sat in the chair. Then he hit play.

  I repeated the same movements on the monitors from two different angles. “Any second now. Any second.”

  The video showed me running from the room, Chauncey right behind me. But no bugs. Not a single black bastard.

  “Not possible. They were there. They were real!”

  “Sweetie, it’s okay. Calm down.”

  “Calm down! Calm down? Are you kidding me? I saw thousands of bugs coming after me and not a damned one is on the video. How is that possible?”

  Eric gave me a stop-shouting look. “It had to be a visual manifestation.”

  “So I imagined it? You’re saying I’m crazy? Were they ghost bugs? I saw dead bugs?” I didn’t want to deal with this anymore. I wanted to go home. I wanted to go back where my mind was normal.

  “Crazy? No. I think it was a vision. People have seen ghost bugs. And with Marisol saying you’re—”

  “I’ve never heard of ghost bugs. I made that up.” I almost laughed. Almost. I might have if I hadn’t been concerned there might be a thread of truth to the medium thing. Was it possible I did have the gift, or curse, to see the dead?

  “Well, it can happen. It’s not very common, but it’s usually seen—”

  “What? What are ghost bugs related to in the paranormal world?” I pulled my knees to my chest.

  “Demons.”

  18

  “Demons? Again?” I jumped up from the chair. “You’re kidding, right? Tell me you’re kidding.”

  Fear and a dash of anger balled together and dropped into the bottom of my stomach.

  “No. It’s rare, but with the history of this place as a prison, its ties to the stones from Houska Castle and the insane asylum, it’s a possibility.” Eric stood and pointed at the monitor showing the room. “When everyone gets up, we can do an investigation in the grand hall.”

  “I don’t want to do an investigation. I want to go home. Everything about this place sucks.”

  “I’m sorry, Sam. We’re stuck. With no cell signal, there’s no way off the island until the boat guy comes back for us on Saturday.”

  “Am I going to need an exorcism?” More likely a room in the psych ward.

  Eric laughed deeper than he ever did on TV. “No. You’re not possessed. You have a special gift of extra sight. Don’t worry about the bugs.”

  Eric’s indifference to the demon bugs increased my adrenaline-hyped jitters instead of making them disappear.

  “Now, what were you saying about birds?”

  “Remember when we came in on the boat and all the black birds flew into the air?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, they all fell out of the sky this morning.” Right after I wished they were dead.

  “Really? They died?”

  “Yup.” I picked a flake of polish from my thumb nail.

  “How many?”

  “Hundreds. Thousands. I have no clue. The grass in the courtyard and the back are covered. Unless I imagined them too.”

  “One way to find out.”

  We left the command center and met Brett coming down the front stairs. His eyes were puffy, and his hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in weeks.

  “Morning. Damn storm won’t let me sleep.”

  “Same here, my man. Sam saw dead birds outside. We’re going to check it out. Can you grab another camera?” Eric lifted the small unit he held.

  “Hang on.” Brett went into the command center and came back carrying a camcorder. “We should wake Randall. I don’t know how to use the big camera.”

  “Let’m sleep. He’s a real asshole if he doesn’t get enough rest. The camcorders are fine.”

  A knot the size of a fist weighed down my gut. The birds had to be there. They’d been real. They weren’t a hallucination or worse, a vision from the other side.

  “Where’s Chauncey?” Brett looked around. “Here, boy.”

  I cleared the guilt clogging my throat. “He went outside with me and took off. I called him, but he didn’t come.”

  Brett patted my shoulder. “No worries. Chauncey’s chickenshit about storms. He’ll be back soon. There’s no way he can get lost. We’re on an island.”

  I hoped he was right and the dog would return once the rain stopped. I’d already lost my sketchbook and possibly my mind. I couldn’t lose Chauncey too.

  “You said the birds were in the courtyard?” Eric stopped by the door.

  I couldn’t trust myself to speak, so I nodded.

  Brett and Eric clicked on their cameras and stepped outside. Fighting the storm of panic swirling in my stomach, I shuffled to the door and sagged against the frame.

  “No birds here,” Brett said in an apologetic tone.

  Eric aimed his camera at me.

  “They were here. I swear.” I ran to the back of the castle. The guys thundered behind me. I wanted to stop and compose myself before I reached the yard, but I couldn’t wait. I burst out onto the cement patio and sprinted to the edge. Rain slapped me in an annoying drizzle. I clutched my side and tried to calm my breathing.

  Eric stopped next to me, not winded at all. It took Brett a minute of huffing and gagging to catch up.

  “Is that what you meant?” Eric aimed his camera at the dead ravens on the grass.

  All three of them.

  “This is wrong.” Where the hell had the rest gone? The whole place had been covered. And the maggots. They had to be real. Had to be. But … but they were gone now. I was going to be sick. I covered my mouth with my hand and blinked back tears.

  It wasn’t just my brain or “special skills.” Kyle had seen them too.

  “Sam, are you okay?” Brett’s voice took on a fatherly tone that said concern, but also that he was scared he’d have to deal with my tears. It was a tone my dad had perfected.

  I uncovered my mouth and inhaled. I needed to fake it. Tell them what they wanted to hear. Just like at home.

  “I guess I overreacted after seeing the bugs. This place has me on edge.” I forced a laugh and tried to appear calm in front of the camera Brett had pointed at me. The look on his face said he saw through my lie, but for some reason, he didn’t call me on it. “Any idea why these three died?”

  I rubbed my hands together, unable to stand still. Where had all the carcasses gone? There had to be a reason for their death—and disappearance. I needed answers. I wasn’t going to be a helpless victim. I needed to solve the mystery to ease the ache splintering my mind.

  Eric filmed the birds again. “No idea. Maybe they got struck by lightning.”

  As if on cue, lightning flashed. Seconds later, thunder boomed above our heads.

  “We better get back inside before the sky decides to open up again.” Eric clicked off his camera.

  “Come on. I’ll let you make me some coffee.” Brett tilted his head to the castle and bumped his shoulder into mine.

  I laughed for real. “No. I made it yesterday, and it was awful.”

  “Awful coffee is better than no coffee.”

  When we reached the kitchen, Marisol and Daniel were huddled over steaming mugs. Daniel set his on the counter. “What were you all doing?”

  “There were a few dead ravens outside. Got them on film. Might be able to use them in the show.” Eric set his camera on the counter, got me a cup, and poured himself one. “Where’s Rand?”

  “Haven’t seen him yet.” Daniel scrubbed his face with his hands. “I barely slept, but the bills won’t pay themselves. Guess I’ll go over the footage from last night.”

  That meant he was going to see me acting like a loon in the grand hall. I caught Eric’s eye.

  He gave me a slight shrug. “I can start. Take a few minutes. Wake up.”

  “Cool. Thanks.” Daniel rubbed his face again. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

 
; When Eric left, Marisol stood and circled the kitchen island. She twisted her hands together and faced me.

  “What happened this morning?” Her tone was barbed with accusation.

  “Nothing. Why?” I turned away from the medium’s penetrating gaze.

  “Death.” Marisol opened and closed her fists. “I’m sensing there was much death today.”

  “I need a drink.” Brett emphasized the word drink, but he grabbed a mug and poured coffee from the glass carafe. “There were a few dead birds outside. ‘Quote the Raven, “Nevermore”.’” Brett raised his mug in a mock toast.

  “It’s quoth, not quote.” Marisol twirled a strand of her hair.

  Brett turned to her. “What?”

  Crack.

  All of us looked at the window.

  “What was that?” Daniel stood and reached for the camera Eric had left on the table.

  The carafe exploded, spraying the kitchen with shards of glass and scalding coffee.

  “Ahh.” Brett dropped his mug and bent over. His mug hit the floor and shattered, adding porcelain to the mess.

  “You got stabbed.” I pointed at an irregularly shaped piece of glass poking through his shirt and sticking into his back.

  “God. Pull it out.”

  Daniel raced over and held on to Brett. “Hang on. I’ll get it.” Daniel yelled, “Eric, come back to the kitchen. Now.”

  “Stupid coffee thingie. It must have gotten too hot or something.” Brett slapped the counter. “Piece of shit thing got me right where I was scratched. How’s that for bad luck?”

  Something unsettling gnawed at my insides. Coffee carafes broke all the time. By itself, it was a normal everyday thing. But when you added it to the bugs and birds, it made the coffee in my stomach turn to acid.

  Eric ran into the kitchen. “What happened?”

  Brett hooked his thumb at his back. “Damn coffee thing broke, and I have a piece of glass stuck.”

  Daniel bandaged Brett’s injury, and I turned to Marisol.

  She stood still, staring out the window. Without a word, she turned and left the room. The guys didn’t notice.

  Brett pulled his shirt back down. “Talk about dumb luck.”

  “If you’re good, I’m going to go wake up Randall so we can review the video feed.”

  Brett nodded. “Yeah. I’m good.”

  Daniel left the kitchen.

  Eric, Brett, and I cleaned up the mess, then we all went to the command center. The guys started fiddling with the equipment. I stared out the rain-soaked window. No sign of Chauncey.

  Daniel jogged in. “Randall’s not in his room or the bathroom.”

  Eric pounded his fist on the monitor table. “He never goes off on his own. Where do you think he is?”

  “Maybe he’s with Chauncey.” I hoped they were together.

  “Chauncey’s still missing?” A look of pain crossed Brett’s face. “He should have come back by now.”

  Marisol breezed into the room. “Have you seen the kitchen?”

  “What, we lost the kitchen too?” Daniel threw up his hands in a mock Muppet flail. “The world’s ending.”

  Eric groaned. “Stop being a douche. What’s wrong with the kitchen, Marisol?”

  “They’ve been busy.” Marisol wrapped her arms around herself. She had to be freezing in the light sweater she wore. I had on two T-shirts and a hoodie and was still cold.

  “Who?” Eric raised his eyebrows slightly, then stopped like he remembered the cameras.

  “I’m not sure. You have to go see.”

  “Okay, let’s go to the kitchen, then we’ll fan out to search for Randall.” Eric waved for me to accompany him.

  “Are you guys getting this?” Daniel darted around the kitchen, filming. “We only left here a few minutes ago.”

  All the cabinet doors hung open, their contents piled on the pots and pans that formed a circle on the island. The food we’d brought was scattered over the baking dishes, plates, and utensils.

  Eric took out his digital recorder. “EVP in the kitchen. Who did this? Are you here now? What do you want to tell us?” He paused between each question.

  A loud zapping sound sliced through the room.

  “I lost my camera. I don’t have audio or visual.” Brett shook his camera.

  “Mine’s gone too,” Daniel said.

  “They’re mad.” Marisol rubbed her hands again. Her movements creeped me out.

  I searched the corners and ceiling. I didn’t see anything or anyone.

  “What do you want?” Daniel shouted.

  “Does anyone have picture or audio?” Eric’s voice grew in excitement. “This is effing crazy. Look. Look.” He ran to Brett. “My EVP recorder isn’t working either.”

  “I think they wiped out all your equipment,” Marisol said in a high-pitched, girlish voice.

  I backed into the wall. A chill slipped deep into my bones. While my fingers were numb from the cold, the burn on my hand pulsated with heat. A wisp of movement caught my eye.

  I blinked, then squinted. Flat, white figures about three feet tall hung all along the open cabinets. It seemed like they were cut from paper and strung together paper-doll-style. I pushed harder into the wall.

  “Marisol, what do they look like?” My voice cracked.

  Eric whipped around and stared at me. “Do you see something?”

  I forced myself to ignore his over-eager question and watched Marisol.

  “I don’t see anyone now. I just feel their energy. Like a dozen or so different energies. All upset.”

  “Sam, do you see something?” Eric moved closer.

  “Uh, no, I don’t. That’s why I asked.” I avoided eye contact with Eric and glanced at the figures. They didn’t have faces. They were just flat, body-shaped, one-dimensional figures, not doing anything but hanging there.

  “Nothing’s working.” Daniel set his camera on an open space on the counter and took out his phone. “This is dead too.”

  “No way. Everything?” Eric looked at the guys, who nodded. “Who’s doing this? What do you want us to know?”

  A crackle came across Eric’s recording device. An almost mechanical voice said, “Die.”

  19

  “Did you hear that? What the hell?” Eric yelled. “You heard that, right? Someone said die.”

  “It was clear as day. Who said it?” Daniel turned around, as if a ghost would automatically appear behind him.

  “Marisol, can you see anything yet?” Brett asked in almost a whisper.

  She leaned against the wall, shook her head, and looked up. Her eyes widened, moved right and left, following the line of paper people.

  From the look on Marisol’s face, I could tell she saw them too.

  “We heard you. Keep talking.” Eric tried his camera. “Does anybody’s equipment work?”

  The paper people dissipated like a fog rolling away. One after another they disappeared until they were gone.

  Marisol stopped looking at the cabinets. I wanted to tell Eric what I’d seen, but since Marisol hadn’t mentioned them, I kept quiet.

  “What do we do now?” Daniel’s voice wavered.

  “I’m speaking to the entity who said ‘die.’ Did you short out our equipment? Did you do this to the kitchen? Who are you?” Eric looked at the ceiling.

  I glanced at the wall. “The hands on the clock are moving.”

  Brett turned to me. “What about the clock?”

  Crap, I’d said that aloud. I pointed to the antique clock hanging on the wall above the sink. “None of the clocks here have been working. Now this one is running. Backward.”

  Marisol looked from the clock to me and raised her eyebrows like she was proud of my observation. “The energy has left.”

  I didn’t want to stay in the kitchen a second longer.

  “My camera’s still not working.” Daniel pushed button after button on the unit. “We gotta check out the command center.”

  “I’m speaking to any spirits
here with us. We’re going to the room we set up all our monitors in. Please come with us if you can.” Eric motioned for everyone to go.

  We filed into the command center and waited. The air in the room felt heavy and dense.

  Eric broke the silence. “Are you here? Can you answer me?”

  The paper people had creeped me out. Marisol not mentioning them creeped me out even more. What else was she hiding and why?

  Daniel fiddled with the equipment on the table, but everything remained dead. “Nothing’s working. Is the electric out?”

  Brett flicked the light switch up and down, up and down. “No lights.”

  “Maybe we blew a fuse?” Eric flicked on a flashlight. “At least this works.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s not the fuse box.” Marisol’s voice rang from the shadows.

  Eric’s flashlight clicked off. “Why do you say that?” He smacked the light on his leg. It didn’t turn on even after he hit it harder.

  “Because they did it.” Marisol rotated her neck to each side.

  “What did they do, Marisol?” Eric’s voice betrayed his frustration.

  “The dead want us out of the castle. He wants us to leave.”

  The paper people? Maybe she’d seen them as human-looking. But I couldn’t ask her without admitting what I saw, and since she wasn’t telling the men about them, I wasn’t going to either.

  Eric pounded his chest. “Look at me. We’re not leaving. We’ll get the equipment fixed.” He pointed the flashlight in Daniel’s direction. “Anything?”

  “Nope. It’s still dead. Where the hell’s Randall? We could use him.”

  “When was the last time anyone saw him?”

  “When we all went to bed this morning,” Brett said in a voice much lower than his normal tone.

  Eric tossed the flashlight across the room. It clanged, rattling my nerves. “All right everyone, listen. We need to find Randall and see if we can get the cameras running again. Let’s split up. Marisol, Daniel, and Brett search the castle.” He glanced at the windows. “Sam and I will check out the grounds.”

  Daniel reached into a black case and pulled out a handful of plastic rods. “Here, everyone take one. The supernatural can’t drain a glow stick.” I slipped mine in my pocket.