The Shattered Seam (Seam Stalkers Book 1)

by Kathleen Groger

  I gagged and gurgled, suffocating. Something was smothering me from the inside.

  Beep. Beep. Beeeep.

  My chest seized.

  A door slammed and fabric whooshed.

  “Hold on, honey. Relax. Just relax. I’ll get it out.” A woman’s voice came from somewhere, everywhere.

  Her face came into focus, and I pleaded with my eyes for her to save me.

  “I know. Relax. It will just take a second.” She brought her gloved hands to my mouth. “I need you to take a deep breath. One, two, three.” She pulled.

  Pain shredded my throat. Whatever was choking me was removed. I coughed and sucked in air.

  “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have woken up yet. We take the tube out right before you come to. Here, sip this.” She thrust a small cup filled with a cloudy liquid under my nose.

  I opened my mouth, and she tipped the liquid in. It was thick and clung to my throat, covering the rawness.

  I coughed. “Water?”

  She took the cup away. “Not yet. Let me get your vitals.”

  Vitals. To have vitals, I had to be alive, so I wasn’t dead. Maybe no one was. But they were. They were all dead.

  She took my temperature, blood pressure, and checked who knew what else.

  “I’m in the hospital?”

  She gave a quick laugh. “Yes. You’re at Watertown General. You’re going to be all right. You were intubated because of smoke inhalation.”

  “What happened?” I remembered most of it, but had no idea how I’d gone from the castle floor to the hospital.

  “The fire fighters found you passed out in that creepy old castle. Your hands are badly burned, and your back and shoulders are scratched. You’ll heal in time. And like I said, you suffered from smoke inhalation, but all in all, you were really lucky.” She made some notes in a small computer on a cart. “Amazing the old place is still standing, considering the size of the fire.”

  The door banged open again. I expected a doctor to come around the striped, pastel privacy curtain, but it was Eric. He guided his wheelchair to my bed.

  “Eric!” I struggled to sit up.

  “Hey, kiddo. How are you feeling?” It sounded like he had sucked in his fair share of smoke.

  His shirt was stained, his hair was plastered to his head, both of his legs were encased in black braces, and a blood-splotched bandage covered his left ear.

  “What happened to your ear?” I got upright and noticed the large bandages wrapped around my hands.

  Eric did his freaky one eyebrow wag. “Damn birds.”

  “What?”

  Eric tilted his head at the nurse and put a finger to his lips.

  “Let me tell the doctor you’re awake.” The nurse left, pulling the curtain shut, and she closed the door with a snap.

  “You’re alive. I thought …” Tears filled my eyes, and I choked on the words.

  He rubbed his hand over his mouth, then dragged it down his chin. “I know. I thought the same about you. Your parents are on their way here. I’m so, so, so sorry.”

  “What about Chauncey?”

  “He’s at the local animal hospital, getting his own braces.” Eric pointed to his legs. “He should be fine.”

  “The others?”

  He shook his head and a look of raw sadness filled his face. “They recovered Randall and found the charred remains of Daniel and Marisol in the dungeon. Brett is still missing. He’s officially listed as presumed dead.”

  I knew what had happened to Brett and Kyle. I’d have to tell Eric so their families could get closure, but I couldn’t do it now. Couldn’t talk about the horrors.

  “Where were you? You were dragged off … came back from the pit … stopped breathing.” I forced the words past the lump wedged in my ripped and raw throat.

  Eric shifted in his chair. “I woke up covered in darkness. Felt like I was entombed in rotten pudding. I couldn’t move any part of my body. I was trapped. And then, after what felt like years, I shot through a tunnel that was both freezing and burning. I slammed into the light and came to on the floor.” He got lost in the memory, then touched his bandaged ear. “I think I died and was locked in the Seam. You pulled me free.”

  I couldn’t get any words out.

  “Sam, this is all my fault. I should have never let you come with me.” He bowed his head and stared at the floor.

  “It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know this would happen.” I tried to reach for his hand, but my baseball-mitt bandages wouldn’t let me. “Guess I won’t be drawing anytime soon.”

  Eric gave me a weak grin. “I should have known. It’s my job. I put you in jeopardy, lost my crew—my best friends, and for what? Ratings. I’m such a screw-up.”

  “No, you’re not. You proved it. You proved ghosts exist and got some of the early stuff on film. And I need to tell you the rest.”

  “Not now you’re not. We’ll have time later. The footage’s gone, destroyed in the fire. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “Sure it does. Don’t give up. The guys would be pissed they died and you gave up just when you got proof.”

  “Sam, I know you mean well, but I really messed up. Everyone was my responsibility, and they’re all gone.” He pulled a tablet from the wheelchair. “One lousy recording survived. It’s from the remote cam you and Daniel put in the boathouse.”

  “What’s it of?”

  He gave the device a dismissive wave. “You. Talking to yourself.”

  “Let me see.”

  “No. Like I said, it doesn’t matter.”

  “Please. I’d take it from you …” I held up my bandaged hands.

  “Fine.” He turned it on and tapped the screen.

  The empty boathouse came into view. The door opened, and I raced in and collapsed to the floor with my back against the door. I rocked back and forth.

  When had that happened? Then I remembered. It was after the birds. That meant Kyle would be on the video. Kyle. The lump grew bigger.

  The me on the screen looked up and scrambled to my feet. My mouth opened, I gestured, acted like I was touching someone.

  I was alone. Kyle wasn’t there.

  Chills ricocheted through me, and the machine I was hooked to said my heart rate jumped fifteen points. Kyle had touched me. I remembered how safe I’d felt in his arms.

  “Sam, who were you talking to?” Eric’s voice pulled me from the memory.

  “Kyle. The landscaper.” My heart rate continued to climb.

  He had been there. I hadn’t imagined him. He had saved me. Died for me.

  A knock sounded on the door.

  I couldn’t answer, so Eric said, “Come in.”

  A woman with frizzy dark hair and dull brown eyes pushed aside the curtain.

  “I’m sorry to bother you. I heard what happened. The news about the castle fire is on all the news channels. And—and I thought since you had been there, you might be able to tell me something—anything—that might help my son.” She twisted her hands in her long denim skirt.

  Eric tilted his head and looked confused. “Who’s your son?”

  The woman was on the verge of crying, but she choked it back. “Kyle. Kyle Richardson.”

  “Kyle? He’s here?” I pushed myself to the edge of the bed.

  “Sam, don’t. You shouldn’t get up.”

  “I have to see him. I thought … I thought …” I grabbed the wires between my bandages and tore them free from my arm. I didn’t register the pain. The machine beeped and whirred. I stood and wobbled on shaky legs. Eric held his hand out to steady me.

  Mrs. Richardson tilted her head and bit her lip. “You know Kyle?”

  “Where is he?”

  “He’s in room 2137. Right down the hall, two turns to the left.”

  I squirmed away from Eric’s grip. “Please show me.”

  “Sam, you’re in a hospital gown.” Eric ripped the blanket from the bed and tossed it at me.

  My bandages made me fumble. Kyle’s mom
draped it over my shoulders. “Can I see him?”

  Mrs. Richardson gave a quick nod. “As long as the doctors say you can.”

  “Screw the doctors. I need to see him.” I walked past her, my nonskid, hospital-issued socks sticking to the floor as I moved. Eric’s wheelchair squeaked behind us.

  She led me to room 2137 and opened the door. I crept in and stared.

  Kyle lay on the bed, hooked up to tubes and machines. His dark hair stuck up at funny angles. An oxygen tube looped around his ears and went into his nose. Dark circles cupped his closed eyes.

  “How did he get out? How did he not …” I couldn’t finish the sentence and looked at Kyle’s mom.

  She touched me on the arm above the bandage, and her eyes filled with a look I couldn’t identify. “What do you mean? I thought you weren’t from around here. How could you know Kyle?”

  “I met him on the island. He … he saved me.”

  Mrs. Richardson’s knees buckled, and she almost fell. “Are you saying you met him this week?”

  “That’s right.”

  She tugged her hair back and shook her head. “That’s not right.”

  The woman was worried about her son, but why was she acting like I was crazy? “Why not?”

  “Because Kyle got injured at that castle, and his friend died. I don’t know what happened. The doctors don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

  “But he has the cut from where—”

  “That’s from the different oxygen tubes.”

  “But—”

  “Dear, I’ve been by his bedside every day for the last five months. He’s been here in the hospital.” She wiped her eyes. “Here. In a coma.”

  33

  I dropped to the floor, and the blanket fanned out behind me. The cold from the tiles sliced through the thin hospital gown. I couldn’t stop shaking.

  “Sam. Sam.” Eric leaned to the side of his chair, tugged me by the arm, and directed me to the chair next to Kyle’s bed. A red fleece sweatshirt was draped across the back of it. I eased into the chair. “What’s going on?” He pushed the call button on Kyle’s bedside.

  “He was there on the island. I saw him, talked to him, touched him. He—” I stopped talking. I couldn’t talk about shadow demons in front of Kyle’s mom, who stood there gaping at me.

  I sprang up, touched Kyle’s hand with my bandage, then ran from the room. Ran from the pain pounding through me. Ran from the vision of the shadow figure pulling Kyle into the fire. Ran until the corridor ended.

  I pushed open a glass door to my left with my hip and went inside what had to be the hospital’s chapel. I collapsed on the nearest chair. I was shaking and hurt everywhere. An inhuman cry worked its way up my throat and out my mouth.

  I was crazy. There was no other explanation.

  “What’s wrong, Miss Sam?”

  The words blasted through the hole in my heart. I turned and saw her in the chair next to me.

  “Amelia?”

  She wore the same dress, the same wool coat and Mary Jane shoes. Held the same doll and had the same dark circles under her eyes.

  “Why are you so sad?” She smoothed the doll’s hair.

  “Are you … you’re …” The words I wanted to say failed me.

  “Some people can walk the Seam and leave when they want. Some get stuck there for eternity. Some only visit and leave when they wake. It can be like heaven or like hell. Depends on your perception.” She said the words in a sing-song tone that reminded me of her song.

  I found my voice. “Thank you for helping me. How did you know about the tunnels?”

  “Those who care, do, while some only wish to cause harm. The blue light guided me, but the women in the lake made me stay.”

  I tried to decipher what she was telling me, but couldn’t. My brain was a jumbled mess. “Amelia, when did you die?” My voice shook. Was she the girl who had died in the castle? The girl that might be Novak’s daughter.

  She looked at me, her curls falling in her face. “He likes you.”

  Kyle? “Do you mean—”

  She stood and tilted her head to the side, like she was listening to something. “He’s coming. I have to go. Goodbye, Miss Sam.”

  The door to the chapel opened. I spun toward the noise. The wheelchair that filled the doorway wasn’t powered by Eric.

  It was Kyle.

  I turned back to Amelia, but she’d disappeared.

  “Kyle?” I couldn’t stop shaking.

  Kyle’s mom appeared behind him and pushed his chair into the room. “It’s amazing. After you touched him, he woke. I tried to get him to stay put, but for someone who’s been in a coma, he has a lot of strength. He wouldn’t listen to me. Insisted on finding you. Commandeered this chair from a passing orderly.” She sounded stunned and proud.

  Eric rolled himself into the room.

  “Kyle, you need to see the doctor.” She pulled the wheelchair back.

  Kyle locked the wheels with his hands. “I will, Mom. But I have to do this first.”

  Mrs. Richardson sighed. “Two minutes. Then I’m getting the doctor.” His mom pushed the chair until Kyle was across from me.

  “Thanks, Mom.” Kyle squeezed her hand, then she retreated to the door and left.

  Eric gave me a half-smile and rolled out behind her. The door closed with a soft whoosh.

  I opened my mouth, closed it, then shook my head. “How?”

  “A curly-haired girl once told me some seams are meant to be permanent, others to be broken. You shattered it. Thank you.”

  His eyes held a touch of moisture I wanted to wipe away. “I should be thanking you.”

  Kyle opened his hand and revealed a three-inch demon statue that looked like the ones from Novak’s fireplace.

  I gasped.

  “I shouldn’t have taken it.” He let the red-eyed statue fall between his fingers. We both watched it hit the floor. “Damn curse.”

  I tore my gaze from the statue and focused on the chapel’s window, which overlooked the water.

  A black bird flapped against the glass. My heart rate jumped.

  Kyle placed his hands on my big bandages.

  I glanced at him, then back at the window. The bird was gone.

  Heat seeped inside my bandages and warmed my fingers.

  Kyle leaned forward. “I think you still owe me something.”

  I blinked and forced myself to not worry about the bird. We were free. Alive. I cleared my throat. “You’re right.”

  “You promised me—”

  I leaned forward and brushed my lips against Kyle’s. He cupped my cheeks and held me in place. The world ceased to exist. It was just the two of us. With a push of his tongue, he deepened the kiss.

  My breaths came fast and quick while my heart slammed against my ribcage.

  Kyle let go of my face and placed his index finger against my lips. “—a kiss.”

  If you enjoyed The Shattered Seam, see what’s next for Sam in

  Silencing The Seam

  Book Two in the Seam Stalkers Series

  Sixteen-year-old Sam Drake thought she’d left the horrors of spring break and Defiance Castle behind her. But back home, the spirits swirling around her are more demanding, more aggressive.

  Fear of being institutionalized by her skeptical mother drives Sam to follow her dad to New Orleans. There she hopes to take back control of her life. But the French Quarter and the cities of the dead have other plans. Hour by hour they drain her, making it next to impossible to fight off a ghost who is determined to use her for its own revenge.

  Ensnared in an ancient power struggle where Voodoo rituals, betrayal, and murder rule, Sam must determine who to trust. One step in the wrong direction will lock her inside the Seam to walk among the dead for eternity.

  Also by Kathleen Groger

  Rasper Series:

  The Colony

  Seam Stalkers Series:

  The Shattered Seam

  Silencing The Seam

&nbs
p; Acknowledgments

  First and foremost, thank you, dear reader, for reading the first part of Sam’s story.

  Without the ladies of Readerlicious, I would be lost. Thank you Brinda Berry, K.J. Carey, Christina Delay, S.B. McCauley, Abbie Roads, Jennifer Savalli, Carol Michell Storey, N.K. Whitaker, Jenn Windrow, and Sandy Wright. And extra-special thank you hugs to Brinda for her video design skills and wealth of knowledge.

  To Randi Jo Flynn and Sarah Zettler, thank you for the friendship, critiques, and laughs.

  Jen Crane and Sandy Williams, thank you for reading and helping me make the book the best it can be.

  Margie Lawson, your teachings, words of wisdom, and deep editing helped shape this book into something I am proud to show to the world. Thank you for the YCDBs, writerlys, and NYTs.

  To my parents for introducing me to the Thousand Islands, first through a cabin they rented, then through a summer home they purchased. The area grabbed hold of my heart and didn’t let go. While they have long since sold that house, I knew I had to use the area for the setting of this book so I could continually revisit the magic of the islands. Mom, I wish you were still here to read what I wrote.

  Dad and Jo, thank you for all your love and support. Your encouraging words and funny emails always put a smile on my face.

  To Judy and Chuck Sr., thank you for everything you have done and still do. I won the in-law lottery!

  To the rest of my family, close and far, thank you for supporting my writing.

  Alex and Zack, there aren’t enough ways for me to tell you how proud you both make me. Thank you for inspiring me to reach beyond my dreams. I love you!

  And to Chuck, the other half of my soul. Thank you does not cover the gratitude I have for all you do for me. From your great ideas, to acting out scenes to see if they can really happen as I wrote them, to our brainstorm sessions, to letting me watch my ghost shows, to working for free on my business after working long hours at your regular job. I love you!

  About the Author