“Let them go.”
“You wanted this! I’ve seen your heart. The Gift-Catcher threatened you, and look! There he swings. We will kill Paul Usher, too, when he returns from Boston. We’ll find the man that fired you from that factory. We’ll kill the Crane boy who defied you, and the invert who seduced your son. We’ll kill any who try to stop us. We’ll bleed the entire world. That’s what you want, deep down.”
“You don’t know me at all!”
“I know you better than you know yourself. I’ve been inside you. Into the dark, where you’re afraid to go.”
“Let me out of here!”
“Has your son betrayed us?”
“No.”
“Pray that is true.” She softened, stroking his hair as he trembled. “Is the summons so terrible, my Dylan?”
LYNDHURST. DAY BEFORE. YESTERDAY. 9 P.M.
“Yes. Yes. Make it go away. I’ll do whatever you want.”
“I want my reliquary. Find it for me.”
Hadewych sniffed. “I don’t know where it—”
“Find it!” She made an incantation that lifted Hadewych off his feet and threw him into the wall with a painful crack. A gilded mirror fell and shattered at the feet of the possessed. “I must watch the sacrifices. My Horseman cannot roam after daybreak. You are my only minion who can.”
“I’m no minion!” Hadewych shouted. “I’m your heir!”
“Find my reliquary! Or you will be my sacrifice. I will let you go mad. I will bleed you along with the others. I will cut the head from your son, right before your eyes. You have until the next sunset to bring it to me. Fail, and I will haunt you until your death and beyond, and your suffering will be my constant delight. Do you understand?”
“I understand! I’ll do it! Just please let me down.”
She let Hadewych fall with a crash.
Then she bent to him and stroked his hair. “You’re such a good boy, Dylan. A good boy helps his grandmother. Don’t pout, now. I’ll make it all better.” She bent and kissed Hadewych’s cheek. “You know your Oma loves you.”
Jason and Zef huddled together, grieving for Kate. They broke and collected themselves, then walked in silence up a trickle of muddy water and around to a clearing behind the gift shop, where overhanging branches partially blocked the rain. Joey waited there, rivulets of mud running past his shoes, runoff from the slopes of the Old Croton Aqueduct, which passed beneath the grounds of Lyndhurst.
“Is that… it?” Joey said.
“Is that what?” said Jason.
“The Horseman’s Treasure?”
Jason had forgotten. Neither Joey nor Zef had ever seen the thing. He raised it high. His bright palm made the gold and glass glint.
Joey peered through the glass at the severed head. “Damn. Agathe’s got good taste.” He shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Not that I’m… into severed heads.” He looked at Zef, adding hurriedly, “And I do prefer blonds. I swear.”
“I think it’s the ugliest thing I ever saw,” said Zef. “That damn thing ruined my family. Can’t we just… destroy it?”
Jason considered. “We could. If we broke the glass and pulled the head out, it’d probably crumble back into a skull. Agathe would have to start over. But that’s the problem. She would start over. She’d come back a year from now, or in a century, to get her satisfaction. So, no. To end this, it’s her we have to destroy. Besides, the reliquary’s our only leverage. We might be able to trade it for Kate.”
“Kate’s gone,” Zef whispered, hugging himself and shivering.
“She’s not gone!” Jason jammed the lantern under his arm. Fury rose in him now. “Get me down into that aqueduct, Joey. I’m going to find that old hag’s skeleton, and scratch my ass with her jawbone.”
“I’m trying,” said Joey, looking miserable. “I’ve been trying for a while.” He spread his hands and screwed up his face, but nothing happened.
“We’re out of the Dead Zone,” Jason said, raising a hand.
“I know. I’m just… exhausted! I’m emotionally and physically… fried.”
“You can do it,” said Zef. “Just relax.”
Joey shook rain from his head. “It’s all mud. That makes it heavier. Denser. I can’t get my Gift around it.”
“Stop worrying,” said Zef.
“I can’t stop worrying!” said Joey. “My dad could be dead. Kate could be dead. We could all die tonight! How did I… get here? I’m just a little fag gravedigger and… a shitty actor… and an okay singer, I guess. But I screw up everything!”
Zef grabbed him by the shirt, more furious than Jason had ever seen before. “Now you listen to me, Joey Osorio. Don’t you dare call yourself names. That’s me. That’s not you. That’s never been you, and I won’t let you start now. You are… amazing. You are a brilliant actor and you sing like an angel, and you have superpowers and you’re funny and you didn’t give up on me! So you can do anything. I believe in you. I love you, Joey.”
Zef kissed him, hard. It wasn’t an easy kiss, or a pretty kiss. It was full of fistfuls of shirt and pent-up, long-suppressed emotion. It was tense and angry and passionate as hell. Jason was kind of embarrassed, and the tiniest bit jealous, frankly. He felt like Agathe, watching a great kiss from afar and feeling miserable. He’d lost Kate… and might never kiss her again. That was a terrible thought. Joey threw his arms around Zef’s neck, and behind them, the slope of the aqueduct exploded. Mud flew in all directions, like the splash of an ocean—every bit of dirt scoured away to reveal the solid brick long-buried beneath. Then even those bricks trembled and fell aside, and the wall tumbled inward, as if no wall had ever stood between them.
Zef broke the kiss. Joey staggered away with a grin on his face and looked with astonishment at what he’d done. He put fists to his hips. “I. Am. Awesome.”
Jason had already swung a leg over. “I’m going down. Sure you won’t change your minds?”
“We have to help Joey’s dad,” said Zef. “Why not come to the hospital first?”
“There’s no time,” Jason said. “I have no idea where Agathe’s bones are, and we’ve only got until tomorrow night. No. Tonight.”
“We still need Valerie,” said Joey, drawing the grimoire from his pocket. “I snagged this earlier, but none of us are Deep Witches.”
Jason sighed. “We’ll do something.”
“Okay,” said Zef. “You try to find the bones. Joey and I will watch the millpond.”
“I wish we had our cells,” Jason said. “Never mind. I’ll figure it out. After I jump down, toss me the Treasure.” He handed the lantern to Zef, stuck his head into the aqueduct tunnel, gauging the distance, and jumped. He landed awkwardly, on a curve, with a painful jolt, water crashing against his calves, throwing him onto his hip with a cold splash. He rose, shook himself off, and extended his arms. Zef dangled the reliquary through the hole, let go, and Jason caught it.
“Good luck, cuz,” Zef shouted.
Joey’s head appeared over the edge of the hole. “Can you even see down there?”
“I’m Rudolph, remember?”
“Love you, Spidey.”
“Love you too, man.”
Joey and Zef disappeared. Jason found himself alone in an absolutely black tunnel, water breaking around his legs, holding a severed head in his arms, with only his hands for light.
Oh, God, he thought. I’m a hell of a long way from the house, aren’t I? I should have thought this out better, waited until we were closer, and…
He threw his head back and shouted, “Guys?”
Only echoes answered. Joey and Zef had gone.
Crap.
Jason started walking, one hand up, trying to direct it like a headlight. The red brick was crumbling and streaked with black algae.
It wouldn’t have made a difference. Neither of them has a car anyway. Zef said he rode to Lyndhurst with Mather, and Joey rode with Valerie. They’ll be walking too. Just go. One foot in front of the other. Don’t think of the last
time you came down here. Don’t think of the altar of skulls, or William Crane the serial killer, or Eddie with his head rotting off. Don’t think of Eddie’s lair with its butcher’s back room, or the skeletal horse or the bandolier of screaming severed heads…
Argh! I told you not to think of those!
He thought of Kate… of nothing but Kate. Kate in her fuzzy jacket, the night of the Spirit Dance; Kate in the stable, silhouetted, telling her tale of a brave hunter who’d thrown his Star-Maiden over one shoulder. Kate in her sultry red dress at Stone Barns. Kate in white, walking up the aisle of the Old Dutch Church. That vision would come true, damn it. That was still in their future. That was still in their cards. That was their predestination, if such a thing existed. Her vision of marrying Zef had some explanation. He and Kate would have their perfect kiss, just as Joey and Zef had.
Just keep walking. Just keep walking.
He felt a sudden pain and limped. The jump had aggravated his old injury—the ankle he’d twisted last Halloween. Every step brought a twinge. And… he had so far to walk.
At least you have the talisman. And light.
He passed under the Lyndhurst grounds, into the Dead Zone, and his hands stopped glowing.
At least you have the talisman.
He hung it ’round his neck and walked on blindly, following the wall, clutching the heavy reliquary, limping on his sore ankle. He concentrated on Kate’s image, until he saw only her. He closed his eyes and walked toward Kate Usher—through the crashing water, like a sailor in a storm, following his guiding star.
And with his eyes closed, he missed the yellow-green light far behind him, keeping a safe distance from the silver talisman he wore.
A tiny winking firefly.
Zef peeked through the bushes, watching the Horseman on patrol. Gunsmoke had stopped to chew enchanted linden leaves. His glowing red eyes seemed to pulse as he chomped. A few ghosts still drifted about, and the mask of Leatherface sat perched atop the manor door, as if manning a guard tower. “So,” Zef whispered, “are we walking, or what?”
“Or what,” said Joey.
“You have Ladybug?”
“No.”
“Are you secretly a car thief?”
“Kind of.” Joey sighed and drew something from his pocket. A keychain with a BMW logo. “She’s going to kill me.”
They crept from the woods and into the parking lot, where Valerie’s car sat parked.
Zef stretched out a hand. “I’m driving.”
“No way,” said Joey.
“Give me the keys.”
“Nope. Sorry.” Joey opened the driver’s side door. “Your turn to be the girl.”
Zef rolled his eyes but obeyed. They climbed inside, dripping all over the soft leather seats. Joey turned the key, hit the gas, and they burned rubber out of the parking lot, flying past the gift shop, past the house. Joey couldn’t find the wipers. Rain fanned out in lines across the windshield. He couldn’t see the drive, so he rolled the window down and stuck his head out—cold air beating his cheeks—cutting across the grass—praying not to get stuck—ghosts swarming across their path—
“Joey…” Zef groaned, pointing at the rearview.
The Headless Horseman came galloping after them.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Joey cried. “Show me what you’ve got, Beamer!” He hit the gas, pulling away, crashing through ghosts before they could get a grip. The Horseman threw a burning scarecrow head. It struck the back of the car and exploded into sparks and charred straw. Joey steered toward the closed manor gates, pressing the gas pedal hard. “Sorry, Valerie!” The gates burst wide, blown from their hinges by the hurtling car. The windshield cracked. He twisted the wheel. They spun onto Broadway, fishtailing, and turned north.
The Horseman slowed, gave up the pursuit and rode back to the house.
Joey whooped. “We’re out! We’re out! We’re out!”
The BMW crossed the bridge over the interstate. They passed a Shell station and a strip mall. Joey found the wipers and turned the heater on, and the boys finally relaxed.
Zef gave Joey an embarrassed look. “So… was the kiss… okay?”
“Are you kidding?” Joey grabbed Zef’s hand and squeezed tight. “The earth moved!”
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
“At the Forge”
The waiting room clock read 3:22 a.m., and Phelps Memorial Hospital was drowsy and quiet. Joey hesitated, standing over his mother, who had fallen asleep in a row of hard plastic chairs. He knelt and shook her knee. Pat Osorio woke with a flutter and a jolt. She recognized her son and let out a moan.
“Oh, Jo-Jo. Thank God you’re safe. What happened? Where have you been?”
“I’m so sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry—I… I bailed. I couldn’t take it. Not Daddy too, not after Jason.”
“I thought that Valerie woman had kidnapped you.”
“No, no. I was—”
“Where did you sleep?”
“He slept with me,” said Zef, stepping up behind. “Uh, on the sofa.”
Pat raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t say anything. But look at you two! You’re all wet and muddy and—”
“We broke down in the storm,” said Joey. “I… tried to fix the flat and—” He couldn’t continue the lie. He stopped trying, feeling rotten, and put his forehead to his mom’s shoulder. “Do you hate me?”
“Of course not. You’re human. You could have told me though. I’ve been through a heap.”
Joey took a seat next to his mother. “How’s Daddy?”
“He’s bad. He’s… having hallucinations. He thinks he’s—seeing ghosts.”
“Ghosts?” Joey turned, exchanging a look with Zef as he joined them.
“They say it’s normal for him to hallucinate,” Pat continued, “but… he’s very specific. He says there’s an old man in his room who shot himself in the head and is trying to kill him. He won’t let us close the door. It’s… not like your father. ‘Gravediggers don’t believe in ghosts,’ that’s what he told me once.”
“We need to see him,” said Joey. “Can we? Now?”
“They say we have to wait until ten. What time is it now? Oh, God. I’ve been in this hospital for forty-eight hours.”
“Why don’t you go home and get some sleep?”
“You don’t have to stay here.”
“It’s my shift. I’m back, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Pat sighed, then kissed him and stood, fetching her blue umbrella. “I’ll bring you clean clothes. Anything else we need?”
“Have you fed Booger?”
“Yes. And Charley too. But if Booger wants earthworms you’ll have to do it. I’m scared of those things.” Joey had taken Zef’s hand, and she’d noticed. “Are you staying? Something of Jim’s might fit you. Tell your parents so they don’t worry. I hope I’m good to drive. I’ll grab some winks and be back by ten. We’ll go in together.” She patted Zef’s shoulder. “Thanks for bringing him back.”
“Glad to, Mrs. Osorio.”
“Please.” She fetched a paper napkin from her purse and wiped a spot from Zef’s cheek. “Call me Mom.”
After she’d gone, Zef pressed his forehead to Joey’s shoulder and chuckled. “Now I have three of them.”
“Let’s go.”
They crouched, skirted the nurse’s station, and slipped into the hall. They passed a few doctors on their way up to Jim Osorio’s room, but the doctors didn’t have their guard up. Zef concentrated and “primed” them, as his mother had called it, freezing them in mid-step. His Gift had strengthened. He lost control after a few seconds, but that was long enough to slip by unseen.
The boys ducked into Room 340 and found Joey’s dad curled in a ball, completely hidden beneath his blankets, as if he’d built himself a fort.
Jim stuck his bandage-wrapped head out. “Don’t close the door!”
“Shh,” said Joey. “We’ve got to.”
“No. No. He’ll come back.”
“It’ll be
okay.” Joey closed the door but turned on the light, feeling weepy at the sight of his father half-mad with fear of monsters. Jim’s skin was white and pasty and dripping sweat. “It’s me, Daddy.”
“Dirtman?” Jim murmured, looking hopeful.
“Yeah, Dirtman Joey. And you remember Zef?”
“Oh yeah. The boy you’re sweet on.”
“Dad,” said Joey, embarrassed but pleased that Jim remembered.
“Oops. Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Rewind. Rewind. Where have you been, Joe?”
“I had to go for a while, but I’m back now. And I might have a cure for you. Something that’ll keep the ghosts away.”
“Gravediggers don’t believe in ghosts. I… don’t know what I saw.”
“You saw a ghost. You did. This is… going to sound weird, but… you have ghosts after you. And it’s my fault.”
“They came….” He looked frightened. “They came in the cemetery. They killed those two ghost hunters and they hung me upside down… No. No. I’m being stupid.”
“It was real. All of it was real, Dad. Zef, hand me that sippy cup?”
Zef obeyed. Joey unscrewed the lid, used the cup to scoop dirt out of one of the green arrangements by the window, and screwed it tight again.
“What’re you doing?” said Jim.
Joey sat next to the bed and handed his father the cup. “Hold this.”
Jim took the cup in both hands, looking puzzled. Joey reached out with his Gift, and the dirt leapt inside, making the cup into a jumping bean.
“How’d you do that?”
“You know how. The same way I stopped that fire. Same way I got you out of that grave.”
“So… it is real,” Jim whispered.
“Yeah.” The sippy cup popped from Jim’s grasp and did backflips on the bed. “I’m Dirtman.”
“Cut it out.” Jim scowled. “No. No. What is this?”
“It’s my superpower.”
Jim looked sad. “I get it. You’re not even here, are you?” He fell back onto his pillows. “I’m hallucinating again.”
Joey stood and kissed his father’s forehead. “No. I’m here. It’s really me.” He cracked the cup open and poured the dirt out into his palm. “Just watch.” The dirt collected itself into a little heart. “Pretty cool, huh?”
SLEEPY HOLLOW: General of the Dead (Jason Crane Book 3) Page 62
