This is bad. Really, really bad.
Mitch crawls across the floor, trying to stand. The small pegs of the game bounce around him as he struggles to his feet. Judy cowers on the couch, her eyes wide as my dad braces himself against the wall.
“Caity!” Mitch reaches for me and I start toward him, his frightened face my beacon. I have to get to him. I have to give him one last hug.
Suddenly, the shaking stops and the room grows still. The pegs from the Battleship game settle, decorating the floor in red and white spots. We all stand where we are, staring at one another. Surely it isn’t over.
Judy stands from the couch, her legs wobbly and unsure. She reaches for Mitch, but he ducks away from her and rushes to me, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“Is everyone okay?” my dad asks, trying to compose himself.
“Come on, buddy. Let’s go back to your room, okay?” I take Mitch by the hand and lead him down the hall.
“Mitchell? Come give me a kiss, baby,” Judy says.
Mitch turns and walks to her just as the house gives another heavy groan. The cupboards in the kitchen begin to open and then slam themselves shut. A heavy wind rushes through the house, blowing out the candles before extinguishing the fire in the fireplace.
It’s not over.
My father grabs me around the shoulders, pulling me to him as the front door bursts open. Everyone looks at the door and Judy screams when she sees the swirling mist coming up the front steps. She grabs Mitch and rushes over to us, her head buried in his neck.
We huddle together, our eyes trained on the open door as shrouds of gray fog enter the room, creeping across the floor before spiking up into small hills. With the mist comes the putrid stench of decay.
The fog swirls about the room like a dog sniffing out a new yard. It breaks off into three, four, and then five lanky shapes, taking on a more human-like form. Clawed, misty hands reach for us, and several black eyes search the room for something, or someone. Mitch reaches for me and I stroke his head, letting him know I’m here. The wind intensifies and the cupboard doors continue their slam dance. Windows rattle and several of Judy’s knick-knacks crash to the floor.
One of the figures moves closer and stoops down to inspect us. Its body bends and sways like one of those air-filled men that shopkeepers put outside their stores to announce a sale. I can feel my dad’s heart thudding against his rib cage as he pulls me close to him. None of us move. We all know it would be useless.
The rest of the creatures begin to surround us and Judy shrieks, covering Mitch with her body. A ghostly hand reaches toward us, and I know what’s going to happen. They’re going to take me.
“Get away from us!” Judy screams.
The creature responds with a deafening shriek of its own. A white arm shoots out, fast as lightning, sending Judy flying across the room. Her body crashes into the wall and collapses onto the sofa. Mitch erupts into hysterics, gripping my waist, burying his head in my sweatshirt.
The creature hovers closer, sniffing the air around us. It looks as though it used to be human—a mix of paper-thin skin hangs on old, rickety bones. Black, glistening eyes sit in the sunken sockets; jagged, pointy teeth fill the gaping mouth.
The creature rears back and rips Mitch from my arms. His body hovers inches from the floor as the figure holds him with its icy claws, staring into his eyes. Silent terror paints Mitch’s face. His body trembles as he leans away from the creature in front of him.
“Put him down!” I scream. “He’s just a little boy.”
The figure drops Mitch in a hysterical heap on the floor. The misty figure that dropped him slinks toward me, looking me over with empty eyes. My father tightens his grip on me as the creature comes closer, enveloping us in its putrid stench.
The Redeemer reaches a clawed hand for me, but my dad tries to intervene and the creature sends him flying backward into the wall. His head smacks the ground, and I know without looking at him that he’s more than likely out cold. An immense pressure fills my brain as the creature rears its head back and emits a high-pitched wail. The other monsters shriek, adding to the splitting pain in my head.
The Redeemer starts toward my father and I know I have to stop it. I grab hold of its bony arm, expecting my hand to cut right through the mist, but it doesn’t. The thing tries to pull away, but my grip holds firm. Something stirs in my chest, growing in intensity until my entire body seems to explode with energy. A bright, white light envelops us, and the Redeemer screams in agony. The eyes go from inky black to totally white. For a brief moment, I catch a glimpse of an innocent pair of hazel eyes as the face becomes that of a teenage boy. The light grows more intense and then it’s gone, the Redeemer reduced to a pile of ash at my feet.
The other creatures become agitated, writhing around each other, circling me. I take a step forward and they shrink back like they’re afraid of me. It’s working. Whatever power my mother said I possess is here and in full effect.
Judy moans from the sofa as she slowly sits up, her eyes trained on the swirling figures dancing before me. Mitch cowers on the floor as the monsters step around him.
“Leave,” I say, holding up a threatening hand.
The creatures retreat, inky, charcoal eyes trained on my face as they back out the door. My father groans and I turn to see if he’s okay. At the retreat of the creatures, Mitch stands and staggers over to us. I hold out my arms for him, but before he reaches me, he falls to his stomach. That’s when I see the misty fingers wrapped around his ankles.
“No!”
I lunge for him as he slides across the floor, out the door and down the steps, into the swirling mist outside.
I scramble after him on my hands and knees. This was not supposed to happen.
“Cait. No!”
A firm hand grabs my ankle, and I instinctively kick back, connecting with my father’s face. I turn to see him grab his nose, blood flowing from between his fingers.
“Mitch!” Judy leaps from the couch and rushes for the door.
“Judy, stop!” My father stands, blood pouring down his face as he rushes toward Judy, but he isn’t fast enough. She’s already outside.
I scramble to my feet and watch helplessly as the fog swallows her. I grab my dad around the waist, pulling him back into the house before the fog can take him, too.
“She can’t go out there. They’ll kill her.”
“Dad, you can’t stop her now.” My voice trembles with fear.
What just happened? They took Mitch instead of me. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Now both he and Judy are gone. Maybe I can get to them. The Redeemers are afraid of me. I can go out there. I can save them.
I take a step toward the door, stopping when I hear Judy’s terrified screams coming from just a few feet ahead of me.
“No. I can’t lose you, too,” my Dad says as he holds me, keeping me away from the open door.
“I think I can stop them. They’re afraid of me. Let me try to help her.”
He shakes his head resignedly, kicking his foot out to close the door against Judy’s terrified screams. “She’s gone. They’re both gone.”
No sooner has the door closed than a thumping comes at us from outside. “Help … me … ” Judy’s voice is barely audible from the other side of the door.
I break away from my father and swing the door open despite his protests. Judy lies sprawled on the front steps, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She lifts her head and I notice that fresh scratches cover her face. I expected much worse.
“Cait. Please. Help.”
I take a step toward her as she begins to drag herself across the porch, and that’s when I notice all the blood. Her right leg is missing from the knee down. I stare in shock as a swirl of white mist engulfs her, pulling her back into the fog.
My father slams the door, drowning out Judy’s mangled screams. He gathers me in his arms and we cling to each other. The house is completel
y still around us, remnants of the supernatural battle scattered across the floor, us in the middle of it all.
The sound of crashing glass causes both of us to scamper backward. Pieces of the front window hop across the hardwood floors. Judy’s lifeless body lays half in and half out of the pane, her vacant eyes staring at the ceiling.
My stomach churns, and I barely make it to the bathroom before I throw up. Once I’ve emptied my stomach, I lie face down on the floor against the toilet, too stunned to move.
Mitch is gone. Judy’s dead.
***
My father’s strangled cries echo down the hallway. I can’t even imagine what he’s going through. It has to be ten times worse than anything I’m feeling.
I run some toothpaste over my teeth and rinse with some mouthwash before exiting the bathroom. My dad sobs from the living room, and my heart breaks for him. Rather than walk the stairs to my own room, I find myself standing in Mitch’s doorway. I walk in and flop face-first onto his bed, breathing in the little boy scent that clings to his pillow.
Mitch.
The grief hits me like a boulder rolling down a hill. Sobs wrack my body and I can barely breathe. It was supposed to be me.
I have to get him back.
Maybe I can. I have no idea where they take them to do the sacrifice. The church, maybe? It seems the most logical place.
I have to go. I have to save him.
***
I wake to the sounds of pounding coming from down the hall. I have no idea how long I’ve been out; I didn’t mean to fall asleep. At first, I think the Redeemers have come back, but then I realize the pounding is different. It’s not as loud as the house-shaking and wall-rattling that usually happens.
I crawl out of Mitch’s bed and choke back a sob. He must be terrified right now. I can’t let myself think that he might be dead. Please let him be okay.
I’m coming for you, buddy. Be strong.
I follow the sounds of the incessant tapping to find my father nailing a piece of plywood over the shattered front window. He gives one final tap before placing his hands on the board, bowing his head. The hammer clatters to the floor and his shoulders shake with grief. I feel responsible for this. This is my fault. If they’d taken me, Judy would still be alive. I place a comforting hand on his shoulder. He looks at me with tear-stained eyes, bleary with sleep deprivation.
“They’re gone.” He seems to have aged about ten years in the last few hours. “What time is it?”
I pick up his wrist and glance at his watch. “It’s a little after two.”
“I’m so tired.” He runs a shaky hand over his face.
“Go get some sleep. The bells will ring in a few hours. You need to rest.”
He nods and then leans over to kiss me on the cheek before walking to his bedroom. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Dad.”
I listen to his heavy footsteps carry him down the hall and wait for the click of his bedroom door before stepping outside into the swirling mist.
Game on.
Chapter Sixteen
I don’t realize how thick the fog is until I step off the porch and into the yard. I shuffle forward, arms in front of me like some sort of shambling zombie, as I make my toward what I think is the end of the driveway.
I have no idea what I’m doing or where I’m going. I can’t see a damn thing. It would be so easy to get lost out here. We’re so far removed from civilization, who knows where I might end up? I could walk and walk and end up lost in the forest, or stumble off a cliff. Even if I manage to get out of this place, everyone here would just assume I’d been taken by the Redeemers. They wouldn’t bother coming to look for me. My poor dad. He’d be left alone.
I vacillate between going back to the house and pushing forward, weighing each option in my mind. The answer is simple. I have to keep going. I have to get to Mitch before they hurt him.
Please, Mom, if you’re out there … help me. I don’t know what to do.
Tears stream down my cheeks as I turn aimlessly in circles, unable to see more than a foot in front of me.
I stop and close my eyes. I have to focus. I already know this is not going to be easy. Not only am I walking blind, but I have no idea what I am up against once I get into town, and I have no idea how to fight whatever it is off. All I know is my touch seems to be lethal to the misty things, but is there a limit on how many I can kill in a night? Will I need to find some sort of magical mushroom to power up and renew my Redeemer-crushing strength?
And what about the ones with human bodies? How do I take them out? Can I? This really, really sucks!
The mist hides the Redeemers, which means it must have some sort of Redeemer-like quality. My touch vaporized that Redeemer, so I should be able to vaporize the mist. But how?
I hold my hands out, palms up like I would if I were going to meditate, and breathe deep. I need to focus. My senses immediately clear, my mind opening to the ambiance around me. The air is dead still, but a faint energy hangs around me.
I take another breath, this time focusing on the oxygen entering my lungs. I imagine it flowing through me, flipping on tiny switches within my body.
The mist around me begins to hum with energy, and with each breath, it seems to grow in intensity. The mist, once damp against my skin, appears to be drying up.
There’s a fluttering feeling right about my solar plexus. It feels like there’s a hummingbird floating inside my chest, begging to be set free. I instinctively reach down to grab the pendant and realize it’s not there. What is that feeling? Where is it coming from?
I take another deep breath, and the humming intensifies. It becomes almost unbearable before erupting from my sternum, traveling up my spine and exploding from the top of my head. My hair flies up, as though something literally burst free of my body.
I open my eyes and revel at what I see. The fog has thinned and now swirls a few feet away from me as though a set of wings from a massive bird beat overhead. I look toward the sky, searching for whatever it is that is doing this. I don’t see anything, yet I feel it, something large and powerful hovering above me. Protecting me. Guiding me.
Now that I can see where I’m going, I can’t waste time figuring out what caused this. I need to get to Mitch. I’ll figure out the details of what I’ve managed to manifest later.
I make my way down the driveway and step onto the dirt road leading into town. I used to walk this road every day during the summer when I would go into town to play with Chas, Trevor, and Jeb. On those warm, summer days the trees along the road provided a soft canopy of big, green leaves to shield me from the sun. Birds would flit between the limbs, chasing me into town. They would watch me hop over the divots in the road so as not to twist an ankle. They would sing when I stopped to pick a wildflower or two from the ditch alongside the road.
Now the trees are bare and mangled, twisted fingers reaching for me through the mist. Their presence provides no comfort tonight. If anything, they make my journey feel even bleaker. There are no happy birds, no spots of sunshine mottling my path, and no happy wildflowers for me to pick. All life has been sucked out of this happy, pathetic little town, leaving nothing but a gray landscape of fear and death.
I pause at the end of Trevor’s driveway. Though the fog is too thick to see the small, white ranch house he calls home, I know it’s less than a hundred yards away. I wonder what he’s doing. At least he’s safe. That’s what matters most. His family has paid their debt—at least for a few years.
An ear-splitting shriek fills the air, stopping me in my tracks. Two more follow it, and I search the space around me for the culprits. The mist swirls around me, growing thicker by the second. Something snaps in my chest, and the power I felt emanating from within evaporates. No sooner has the power left me than a splitting headache takes root at the base of my skull.
Go home. Go now! My mother’s voice is barely audible over the screeching of the creature
s that must be swarming around me. I’m dizzy and it feels like my head may explode. I wondered if I had a limit on the number of Redeemers I could stave off. Evidently I do—I just don’t know what that number is because I can’t see anything.
Go. They know you’re out here.
How the hell does she know this?
The air around me vibrates with tension. The fluttering in my chest returns and I feel the power welling up, ready to break free again, but the pain in my head seems to be pushing it away. It’s as though there are two things fighting within me. I want them both out.
I stumble toward Trevor’s house. The tension has grown unbearable and I can barely stand. There’s no way I could make it home. I just hope Trevor can help me.
“Where is she?” The man’s voice is low and somewhat familiar, but I can’t quite place it. “Back off. I need to be able to see her.”
The pain in my head subsides enough for me to regain my balance. The fog recedes some, allowing me to get an idea of where I stand. Trevor’s house is maybe fifty-yards away. Do I chance it? I’m putting him and his mother at risk. Maybe I should just run home. If I can get my power back, I could make it.
No. I have to save Mitch. I have to fight.
“Cait?”
The disembodied voice comes at me from behind. Whoever he is stands on the main road. I can see the outline of his body, a dark cloak covering him from head to toe.
“I see you. And don’t bring Trevor into this. He can’t help you.”
“Who are you?” As soon as the words leave my mouth I regret saying them. I should have run. Why provoke him? Too late now. “Where’s Mitch? Give him back.”
“He’s ours now. And you’re out when you’re not supposed to be. This means I get to kill you.”
The mist thickens around the figure. It swirls upward, picking him up and dropping him just a few feet from me. It happens so fast, it causes me to stumble backward and fall on my ass.
Fingers in the Mist Page 15
