by Isla Jones
Blake lowered the sensor to the ground and faced Rachel.
“Theo?” she whispered, holding Rachel’s sad stare.
“Yes, my little waitress?”
Rachel blinked and glanced between them. Theodore was much too far away for him to have heard Blake’s whisper.
“Show her,” said Blake. “Prove it to her.”
Rachel whipped her gaze back to Theo. Only, he wasn’t there. The watery pebbles, metres ahead, no longer supported the blonde man. He was gone.
Blake dragged her eyes from Rachel’s bewildered face to Theodore. He stood behind Rachel and lowered his lips to her ear. “Boo.”
“Agh!” Rachel kicked off from the shore, and ran past Blake. She hid behind Blake, and peered over her shoulder. “What the … How did you do that!”
“He isn’t human,” said Blake.
Rachel shivered behind Blake and gripped onto the fabric of her cardigan. Hunter had become impatient.
“We haven’t got time for this crap!” he shouted. “We came here to find the diadem, not do tricks for a prissy princess, all right!”
Theodore smiled at Blake and stepped closer. Rachel stumbled away.
“Come,” said Theodore, and held out his hand. Blake took it and let him lead her to the water. He lifted the detector on the way. “When we came here,” he said, “you went straight to the water.”
Blake took the detector and nodded. “It’s out there, isn’t it?”
“Find it,” was all he said.
Blake kicked off her boots. Rachel side-stepped to Hunter, who shot her a look of disgust. But all eyes shifted back to Blake as she trudged through the brown lake. Her arms straightened above her head and held up the sensor. Fleetingly, she wondered if it was waterproof. Most were, but she questioned her luck. It didn’t seem to be on her side of late.
When the water swept over her breasts, a splash hit her back. She stilled, but relaxed as he spoke behind her, “I hope you can swim.”
Theodore moved into her peripherals and swam into the deeper water. She followed, the sensor floating in front of her. With a sharp intake of breath, she dove into the water and shoved the sensor down with her.
Theo hovered beneath the surface patiently. He wasn’t holding his breath. She realised that he didn’t breathe. His hand reached out and grabbed onto her arm, and he pulled her down to the bottom. Stones, rocks, pebbles, and dirt coated the base of the reservoir. The sediment smeared the base, and the sensor pulsed in Blake’s hands.
Blake lowered the flattened side to the dirt and dragged it across the bottom. Bubbles of air billowed out of her nostrils and mouth, obscuring her vision. Her eyes stung from the water assaulting them, drying them out. Theodore, fingers clasped around her arm, dragged her away. She raked the sensor over the bottom again. It still pulsed, but it didn’t beep.
Blake had never tried to hold her breath for a long while. She had no idea what the average time was without drowning. She wasn’t exactly fit, or healthy, but she wasn’t a smoker or anything of the sort.
They were deep into the lake when they reached a gathering of boulders. They were stacked up on top of each other, in the shape of a large circle. It was a peculiar sight. Almost as if someone had placed them there, organised them, right in the middle of the lake, for no apparent reason.
Blake frowned through the water at the rocks and pointed her free hand to them. Theodore took her closer, in a matter of a mere second, or less.
Fumbling with the detector, she kicked her legs and pressed the sensor against the rocks. It pulsed, but didn’t beep or light up. Waving her hand at the boulders, she gestured for Theodore to move them. He disappeared, and moved so fast that she only saw boulders vanish, rather than the feeder removing them. Her lungs constricted as the last bubbles curled from her lips. Her throat tightened and her shoulders jerked. She released the detector. It floated down the boulders. Theodore stilled and looked up at her, clutching her throat.
The pressure of the water pushed down upon her, until, suddenly, she was at the surface. Blake wheezed and her chest rose as her lungs sucked in the fresh air. Theodore held her steady as she gasped and sputtered.
“Stay here,” he said, once she’d calmed. She nodded and splayed her arms to keep afloat in the icy water. Theodore dove back down and removed the boulders.
Hunter and Rachel watched from the shallow water. From the distance, she could see the shine of Rachel’s tears streaked over her cheeks. Hunter waved to catch her attention. She waved back, and he nodded. A smile tugged at her lips as she realised he was checking on her wellbeing.
Fingers snatched onto her ankle and wrenched her beneath the surface. The boulders came into view, only they were no longer organised in a perfect pile, but thrown around the bottom of the lake. Theodore handed her the detector and pointed to a smoothed patch of dirt. She kicked out her legs and neared the patch.
The sensor beeped and a red light blinded her. Blake released the detector and dug her fingers into the soil. She tore the ground apart, dirt caking her nails, and strained to burrow into the soil. Theodore floated beside her, but didn’t help. Maybe she was the only one who could get it? She hadn’t asked before, so she wasn’t sure.
Her fingernails snapped and broke with each wrench. And, she only stopped when a gleam glinted up at her. Blake threw her hands forward and raked the dirt around the pink shine. Piece by piece, a beautiful, rose-pink vine came into view. Theodore snatched it from the earth and slung his arm around Blake’s waist.
A gasp of air tore through her throat, and before she could blink water from her eyes, she was on the shore. Theodore stood beside her, sopping wet, like herself. Soaked hair fell over her face and she parted it like a curtain.
“What is it?” asked Rachel in utter awe.
Blake coughed and followed her gaze to Theodore’s hand. He offered the item to her. She wrapped her fingers around the ornament. It was nothing like the diadem from Town Hall. The crown was made of pink vines and yellow leaves, but was as solid and coarse as an unrefined diamond. Black jewels were wrapped within the vines and slithers of pure silver protruded in spikes.
The natural object glowed the moment she held in both hands.
“Wow,” she breathed. “I … I can feel it.” Hunter leaned forward and inspected it. “The magic,” she added. “It tingles.”
The trees rustled. Hunter and Blake wrenched their gazes from the diadem and gawked at the border of the swamp.
Bethany emerged. A sickly-sweet smile sneered at her lips. “My, my, Blakie Bear,” she crooned. “You have saved me quite the bother.”
She stopped in front of the shadowy trees and inclined her head at Rachel. Her eyes then hardened and slewed stonily to Blake. “Give me the diadem, and no one gets hurt ... maybe.”
Theodore materialised in front of Blake, his back to her. Hunter tensed at her side and stepped closer to her. Blake yanked the diadem closer to her chest, protecting it, yet Rachel stepped back.
“I’m sorry, B,” whispered Rachel. Her face crinkled into a grimace. “I’m so sorry. I can’t let you hurt anymore people. I did what you asked, I told Beth, but I called the police, too. They’ll be here soon. I did this because I love you.”
Blake’s eyes widened with hurt as she gaped at her friend. Rachel bowed her head and backed away toward Bethany.
“Stop!” Blake held out her hand for Rachel, but her horrified eyes were fixed on the trees behind the witch. “Don’t go near her, Rachel! She’s a killer!”
“You’re the killer,” said Rachel. “What you did, Blake—You can’t get away with it. You need help.”
Bethany clicked her fingers and crooned, “I have all the help she needs.”
Shadows slinked from the trees. They reached up to the dangling leaves and figures came into view beneath the light. The witch’s puppets. Rotten and boiled, bubbled and churned, and stitched back together again.
Blake’s face slackened. Abe and Jack were among them. Pieces of their fle
sh hung from their limbs as they lurched forward and grinned crooked leers.
Rachel gaped at the golems. Her sight was not there, unlike everyone else on the shore. She couldn’t see their peeling flesh, or their eyeless sockets, or their black mouths. But, she saw Jack and Abe—both, she knew to be dead.
Hunter slipped a gun from waistband, and Theodore shivered—a vibration simmered down his body, and his façade dispersed. His fingers elongated, turned bony and skeletal, and a black muddy silhouette surrounded him. Blake recoiled from the feeder and the witch, repulsed by both.
‘Blakie Bear…’
Blake shuddered. Coils of repulsion churned her stomach as Abe’s head rolled. He called again, in that echo of a voice, one of the winds and breeze.
‘Blakie, come here … Be a good girl…’
“Don’t listen to it,” said Hunter. “It’s not your dad anymore.”
Rachel watched Abe and Jack stumble down the slope. Her hands slapped over her parted lips, her brown skin tinged grey.
‘Blake, I’m sorry.’
It was Jack, staggering into Abe. His lips didn’t move, and the voice possessed a trace of the one she’d known. Yet, she felt Bethany’s tinge to it, the poison tainting everything she touched.
‘Give me the tiara, sweetie. Give it to me, and we can all be together again. We can be a family.’
They stopped and flanked the redheaded witch ahead.
“Stay where you are,” muttered Hunter under his breath. He looked around at the trees, but there were only corpses emerging. The Sheriff, Zeke, Jack, Abe—even the deputy was among them, reeking of a putrid burnt flesh odour. “I’ll get you out of here, Blake.”
Bethany sneered and coiled her fingers. “Get her.”
The order ignited chaos on the peaceful shore. Corpses scrambled forward, some on all fours—the eldest, the first of them, Zeke and Peggy, racing forward like rabid dogs.
“Rachel, run!” screeched Blake.
Rachel whirled to face her, but the sheer horror contorting her face blurred in Blake’s sight. Rachel was tackled to the stones by what used to be the Sheriff. Blake screamed. She raced toward her. Her ears rang, hummed, and buzzed, thudding with the rapid beat of her heart.
“Rachel! No!”
Blood squirted high up in the air. It spewed from Rachel’s lips, and spurted from the hole that had once been her throat. Her body twitched on the ground, beneath the weight of the frantic Sheriff. The rotten beast clawed and scratched and tore at Rachel.
Blake threw herself at the Sheriff, and knocked him off the twitching body. They landed with a crunch on the stones. Blake swung up her legs just in time. The Sheriff scrambled on top of her, and snapped its toothless mouth at her. Black tar poured down onto her face, and splashed in her eyes. Blake groaned and bent her knees before she pushed. The Sheriff went flying back through the air. Panting, Blake wiped the black sludge off her face and rushed to Rachel. Her body was limp, wilted, motionless.
“Blake!” hollered Hunter.
Blake looked around for him. Her hazy eyes washed over the feeder, tearing the grandmother apart. The corpse’s limbs sprayed through the air, followed by her screeches and black blood.
Jack and Abe tried to reach Blake; they clambered down the shore, but their legs were severed. Their arms held them upright and their hands moved from rock to rock and boulder to boulder. Hunter ran into view and booted Abe in the head. Blake choked on a sob, her back jolting and head bowed.
“Where’s the diadem!” shouted Hunter. “Get the diadem, Harper!”
Hunter wrestled Jack, trying to tear off his decomposed arm. Abe was without a jaw.
Blake shook her head. She blinked and looked around again. The diadem. Where was it? She’d had in her hands, held it against her chest. Glancing down, she saw it wasn’t on her lap. Rachel lay in front of her, unmoving. It wasn’t with her.
Blake scrambled to her feet and spun around, her black-sludgy hair whacking her in the face. The diadem lay on the pebbles a few metres ahead. Dropped, when she’d tackled the Sheriff. The Sheriff climbed to his feet, claws at the ready.
Lurching forward, Blake dove for the diadem. The Sheriff howled a haunting sound before he mirrored her, and flung himself at the diadem.
Blake didn’t even reach the ground. It came rushing up at her, but she was propelled backwards. Something snatched her hair, mid-air, and threw her away. Blake was hurled over the shore, screeching, and crashed onto the stones. Her head whacked off a rock, and warmth spread through her hair. Her hooded eyes gazed up, and watched the diadem fly above her.
Bethany caught it. Zeke had thrown it, had thrown Blake.
Blake rolled onto her side and pushed herself to her feet. Legs quaking beneath her, she staggered forward. Theodore whirled around to face her. A flash of relief sparked in his cloudy eyes.
“Watch out!” she shrieked, just as the Sheriff sprung at him. Theodore caught the beast by the throat and ripped off his head. He gave Blake a once-over and dropped the severed head to the shore. He turned his head and stared at Bethany. His gaze dragged down to the diadem in her hand. Theodore disappeared from beside Blake, and reappeared behind Bethany.
Blake wrenched her eyes away from the witch. She staggered over the stones, and searched for Hunter. Her skull shook from the pressure of her pounding brain, her vision blurred and cleared. But she spotted him. He lay on his back, the deputy straddling him, gnashing at his face, snapping its hollow mouth at his nose. Hunter whipped his head from side to side, and stretched out his hand for a black object out of his reach. Blake clutched her tummy and lurched closer. She squinted at the black thing. Hunter’s gun.
Slipping on the dewy pebbles, Blake dashed over the stones. Her boots slipped on the pebbles as she sprung forward, leaping for the gun. The thud of her body colliding with the shore drowned out her whispered cry. But, she lunged forward and clasped her fingers around the handle. Flipping onto her back, she slipped her finer around the trigger and aimed it at the deputy.
“Hunter!” she shrieked. He grunted and craned his neck to look at her. “Hold him up!”
Hunter dodged a fierce bite from the corpse and coiled his fingers around its neck. He roared as he shoved the deputy off his body, and held him still for Blake to aim.
Bang!
Black spewed out. It swept through the air and splashed onto her face. The tar poured freely down upon Hunter. He choked and sputtered, but kicked the wilted corpse from his body. Laying on her side, Blake aimed the barrel at Bethany. The diadem was not in her hand, anymore. Blake’s finger trembled against the trigger, but Bethany only smiled at her, a mocking gesture, filled with malice, and coated with cruelty. Bethany’s eyes slid from Blake to the foamy water.
Blake followed her gaze. Her horrified eyes rested on the motionless figure, sprawled out on the shore. The diadem dangled from his limp fingers. White flowed from his parted lips, and pooled on the stones beside him. Theodore twitched beneath Zeke and Jack. They tore into his gushing throat and guzzled down his white blood.
Theodore’s hand jerked. The diadem moved. His mercurial blue eyes glassed over. They turned black, and melted into molten tar. The liquid oozed out of his eye sockets, and onto the pebbles. The stream of his blood darkened from the clouds to the dark side of the moon. He was one of them, now.
“No,” breathed Blake. The gun shook in her hands. A shaky squeal escaped her parted lips. Her face scrunched up in horror as she screamed, “THEO!”
Hunter leapt to his feet and sprinted to the feeder. His boots kicked pebbles at Zeke as he skidded to a stop, snatched the diadem, and spun around.
A whirl of black blurred in her vision. Hunter raced toward her and snatched her up from the ground. He dragged her to the bike and threw her over seat.
Zeke’s head snapped up from the crook of Theo’s bloody neck. Jack snarled at Blake and jumped to his feet. Theodore stood between the two corpses. His head swayed from side to side as he craned his neck, and his eyes bled into
hollow pits of nothingness.
The bike thundered to life and sped into the trees. Blake threw her head back and screeched. Her cries billowed into the silent night, and carried back to the shore, where the golems roared—Theodore among them.
15
Motel California
The tyres of the motorbike skidded on the gravel. Hunter switched off the ignition as dozens of bayou-folk came flooding out of their homes. Blake glanced around and noticed that there were no children playing. They must have been evacuated already.
“They’re coming!” shouted Hunter, hopping off the bike. Blake slid off and swayed on her feet.
A gruff, greying man ran forward, front and centre. “How long?”
“Ten minutes, tops.”
The men and women pulled on their all leather jackets. Printed on the backs were fierce wolves swallowing sticks. Blake studied the image on a younger woman’s jacket. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen the club jackets, but now she knew what the stick was. A broomstick.
They Wolves scattered. Some reached under their porches, others popped the boots of their cars, a few kicked dirt off secret doorways in their shabby gardens. From the nooks and crannies, they pulled out dusty duffel bags. Inside, were weapons. They cocked shotguns, loaded barrels, and stuck knives into their waistbands. Blake wondered if those weapons would have any effect on the walking corpses. Theodore, she thought. Her mind rushed with images of his black eyes. Did he lose his strength and speed in the transition? Was his rapid healing power disturbed?
Blake looked around the slummy shacks. It was strange, she mused, that a twinge of affection coiled inside of her. It appeared that she’d grown fond of the bayou village.
The grey man whispered to Hunter. Blake presumed the man to be the leader of the gang. His lowered his voice reached Blake’s alert ears. “Your dad is at the clubhouse. He’s got the kids.” Hunter nodded, and a flittering flash of relief passed through his brown eyes. The leader bowed his head and whispered, “Did you get it?”
