Chuck could now make out vague outlines in the dark. His sofa was a hulking silhouette in a sea of shadows and the boxes and crates were perfect cubes of darkness.
“So the lights being off,” he ventured, “does that help these fields form? Is that why you always hear about hauntings and stuff happening at night?”
Marilee giggled in the darkness and though there was no malice in her voice, something about the sound caused a chill to race down Chuck’s spine.
“No,” the little girl admitted. “It’s just more fun this way.”
The red lights flashed in the darkness again and Chuck, who had a knack for recognizing patterns, realized that they weren’t simply winking on and off randomly. There was a delay between the flashes. A very long delay, but a delay nonetheless.
He didn’t hear Marilee cross the office, but suddenly she was at his side.
“We’re about ready to start, Mr. Grainger. Were you able to find something?”
Chuck’s eyes had fully acclimated. Though cloaked in gloom, he could see details that had been previously hidden and he felt secure enough to finally remove the object from his pocket.
“It wasn’t easy,” he said as he opened the small plastic bag and carefully handed its contents to the girl. “But I think this should suffice.”
Pinching it between her thumb and forefinger, Marilee scrutinized the circular piece of silicon as Control laughed. “Very clever, buddy. Very clever, indeed.”
“His energy is all over this thing.” Marilee spoke as though within a trance, her voice low and lethargic. “So much that it’s almost a part of it. I can feel traces of him here. Almost like I was holdin’ one of his bones or something. This is amazing. What the heck is it?”
“That,” Chuck explained, “is the recorder chip that was embedded in Nodens’s throat lining. It was hardwired into a bundle of nerves because those little zaps of electricity were what powered it. So, yeah…this thing practically was part of him.”
Marilee rubbed the scar along her hairline with her free hand, her fingertip tracing its contours in a way that almost seemed remorseful to Chuck. It was as if the chip implanted in her brain made the girl feel a connection to the Sleeper that he and Control could never understand.
“Let’s begin.”
As Marilee led them back across the room, Chuck crossed his arms over his chest and rubbed his forearms briskly. Somehow, it felt colder in the room. He remembered how the temperature had dropped in the room just before Nodens died and his eyes darted to the EMF detectors, half-expecting them to be flashing like mad. However, they remained slow and constant in their rhythm. If something was in the room with them, it was well hidden.
“So what do we do?” His voice trembled and Chuck balked at his own question. He’d faced things within Crossfades that would have driven lesser men insane. He’d personally witnessed the cruelty and brutality one soul could inflict upon others and gazed upon horrors that simply could not exist within the realm of the living.
So why did his heart flutter within his chest? Why did his stomach twist with nervous queasiness?
Why the hell was he so damn afraid?
As Marilee picked up the Spirit Box, Chuck glanced at Control, seeking reassurance in his friend’s smile. Her face, however, was tight and pinched. The woman’s nostrils flared with each breath and even in the darkness she looked pale.
She feels it, too.
Marilee’s eyes changed. In the darkness, her pupils had been so wide that very little of the irises could be seen. Now, however, they contracted, shrinking down to mere pinholes. At the same time, her body relaxed, as if all her muscles had simultaneously gone limp.
By way of contrast, Chuck was so tense that his own muscles felt as if they’d been seized by cramps. The shadows lurking in the corners of the room seemed blacker than they had moments earlier. Almost as though dark forces gathered there, twisting and writhing as they gnashed at one another with ethereal teeth.
The EMF detectors winked. Still slow. Still steady.
Yet faintly—so faintly it might have been nothing more than his rampant imagination—Chuck thought he heard a rope creak.
Marilee flipped the switch on the Spirit Box and the roar and hiss of white noise assaulted the room, almost as if the wall of static had been waiting to pounce upon its unsuspecting victims.
Was it also his imagination, or had the little girl’s complexion changed, too? Her cocoa-colored skin seemed waxen and sallow as she gripped Nodens’s chip in her free hand so tightly that her knuckles stood in sharp contrast.
Control had shuffled close enough to him that her shoulder bumped against his own and Chuck fought the urge to seek her hand in the darkness. He felt like a little kid seeking the reassurance of his mother’s touch and the hairs on the back of his neck bristled.
Something was creeping up behind him. Something dark and malicious. Something that leered through the veil separating worlds and thirsted for the warmth of his blood.
He was certain of it.
Yet he couldn’t force himself to turn and look.
A vein on Marilee’s forehead throbbed and she rolled her head slowly as her small body swayed back and forth. With the Spirit Box tucked in her armpit and one hand extending the speaker, she looked like a high-tech voodoo priestess, summoning the dead through an ancient dance.
The static was nearly deafening, the rush of sound almost entirely drowning out the girl’s soft voice when she spoke.
“It’s coming…”
Chuck couldn’t help it. His hand shot out and he gripped Control’s palm in his own, squeezing as shivers and shudders passed from one body to another.
“It’s coming.”
The red lights on the EMF detectors flashed as though sending frantic messages in semaphore to one another and a high-pitched whine rose and fell through the Spirit Box’s static.
Marilee closed her eyes and a smile crept over her face as her body became motionless.
“It’s here.”
“Nodens?” Chuck meant the question for the little girl, but she was not the one who answered.
“They said no dreams.” The voice didn’t emerge from the static, but rather seemed a part of it; the words buzzed, somehow reminding Chuck of a radio tuner that had been quickly turned, the rapid changes in pitch stringing together into short bursts of syllables. “They lied.”
For some reason, the statement made Chuck’s eyes water. He felt as though a well of sadness had opened somewhere deep within him and he squeezed Control’s hand as his bottom lip quivered, making his words as shaky as his knees felt.
“I’m sorry, man. I’m so sorry.”
Only the hiss of static answered. The trio stood in silence for a moment, Chuck feeling as though he should say something but unable to find the words. It was finally Control who broke the silence.
“Nodens?” she asked hesitantly. “Did…did someone kill you?”
Chuck found himself leaning forward, almost as though being physically closer to the Spirit Box could somehow coax an answer from it.
“Murder.” The reappearance of the dead man’s voice caused Chuck’s breath to catch in his throat. “Death. Pain. So much pain.”
Each sentence had been separated by several seconds of silence and with each gap, Chuck’s heart beat a little more rapidly. Sweat dotted his brow and the air in the room felt heavy, as though it were physically trying to force him to his knees.
“Was it him, Nodens?” Everyone else in the room had ceased to exist for him and Chuck found himself breaking the rule he’d laid out the night before. “Was it Albert Lewis?”
The lights on the EMF detectors fluttered and flickered as static hissed in the darkness.
“Nodens!” Chuck demanded. “Was it Lewis?”
He held his breath as he awaited an answer, mentally cursing the dead man for not being more forthcoming.
“Who did this to you, Nodens? Who the hell killed you?”
“It’s coming.”<
br />
The EMF detectors flashed so quickly they looked like miniature strobe lights and the static grew louder, even though Marilee had previously said the volume was fixed. Spurts of interference crackled and popped and the atmosphere in the room felt as though it were charged with static electricity. Every hair on Chuck’s body prickled and his flesh felt as though it were creeping over his body.
“It…is…coming.”
The whine cutting through the Spirit Box’s roar was now so shrill that Chuck’s eardrums seemed to quiver and a stabbing pain flared behind his eye, forcing him to cry out.
Chuck, however, wasn’t the only one affected by the change in the room. Convulsions wracked Marilee’s small body and her face screwed into a grimace, her teeth grinding against one another as spasms twitched her jaw. The little girl flung her head from side to side and her braided pigtails swished through the air.
“Get out, get out, get out!” The girl sounded frantic, the words growing more guttural and adamant with each repetition.
“Chuck…buddy…”
“Get out!”
“We need to stop this. We need to stop this now!”
The EMF detector by the fountain exploded with a loud pop and shards of plastic flew through the air, plinking off Buddha’s resin sides as the other detector shattered into bits of shrapnel as well.
“Damn it, Chuck!” Control screamed. Plumes of vapor billowed from her mouth as the temperature in the room plummeted. “She wants us to leave for a fucking reason!”
Chuck, however, felt as though he were paralyzed. He watched Marilee twist and squirm, his gaze fixated upon the small scar on her forehead. Was it just a trick of the light? Or was the skin surrounding it throbbing? Almost as if the microchip implanted there was trying to push its way out of her head.
Marilee’s final protest was released as a scream so loud and forceful that the muscles in her neck bulged, the two syllables stretched over several seconds as she squeezed her eyes shut: “GET OUT!”
Control bolted toward the little girl but before the older woman could reach her, the Spirit Box flew from Marilee’s grasp and tumbled across the floor. At the exact moment it left her hands, the girl’s face relaxed and she looked around the room as though she’d just awoken from a dream in a strange and unfamiliar location.
Something seemed different about her. Perhaps it was her posture. Or maybe it was the myriad micro expressions that give a person’s face its distinctive look. When she moved toward the stack of boxes, her gait lacked the poise and confidence Chuck had come to associate with her. Her steps were tentative and faltering, almost as though she was unsure whether her legs would be able to support her own weight.
Control had sidled next to Chuck again and she leaned in close. The warmth of her breath tickled Chuck’s ear as she whispered through the static still emanating from the Spirit Box.
“I don’t like this, buddy. Something’s not right.”
Marilee turned slowly with her gaze lowered. Her eyes fell upon the Spirit Box and as the girl cocked her head to the side the roar of white noise faded to a mere hiss. And then even that was gone. In the resulting silence, Chuck could heart his own pulse, blood whooshing and thumping through his head as he tried to convince himself that the shivers racing through his body were caused only by the cold.
“Chuck, something’s definitely not right with this situation.”
Marilee’s head snapped up at the sound of Control’s voice. Her brow wrinkled and she breathed so heavily that her shoulders rose and fell as her hands balled into fists. However, she was not looking at the woman whose voice had drawn her attention.
Her gaze was solely fixated on Chuck and the little girl’s eyes gleamed with loathing.
“You!” Somehow, she managed to make the word sound like an accusation. “I hate you. Do you hear me? I hate you!”
Though he wasn’t aware he was doing it, Chuck took a step backward. Marilee’s fingers flexed as she clenched and unclenched her fists. The girl’s shoulders had hunched to the point that she no longer seemed to have a neck and the breath flowing through her nostrils sounded like a locomotive building steam. Her chin had tilted forward and she glared at Chuck from beneath a brow furrowed with rage.
“Marilee”—Control’s voice was soft but encouraging, sounding more like a concerned mother than a colleague—“that’s Chuck. You don’t hate Mr. Grainger, honey. It’s actually quite the opposite. Isn’t it?”
If Marilee heard the woman’s words, she gave no indication.
“You’re gonna pay for what you did.”
“Sweetie, you have to listen to me, okay?”
“You’re gonna die for what you did.”
For a split second, Chuck was no longer in his office. Instead, he floated in a vast expanse of darkness. Though he couldn’t see anything, from somewhere close by someone—perhaps Marilee—giggled. The sound of the rope creaked and when he blinked Chuck found himself back in more familiar territory.
“You don’t want Chuck to die. I know you don’t.”
Marilee looked toward the stack of boxes and Chuck followed her line of sight. Covering her mouth with one hand, the young girl chuckled. The laugh, however, caused a lump to form in Chuck’s throat as he took another step backward. For what Marilee gazed at with such glee was the screwdriver with which she’d pried open her crates.
One moment, the tool rested on the edge of a box. The next, it flew five feet across the room. Its yellow handle slapped against Marilee’s palm and her fingers closed around it as she whirled toward Chuck.
With an inhuman growl straining her vocal cords, the girl charged, wielding the screwdriver at shoulder level like a knife. Her eyes blazed with murderous intent and before the shock of seeing an inanimate object move of its own accord had worn off, the weapon had already begun its deadly arc.
Chuck tried to scramble backward as Control darted toward the girl, but neither was quick enough. His scream echoed off the walls as the screwdriver sank into his flesh. Pain exploded through his torso and he felt himself falling backward as he tripped over his own feet.
Marilee, however, would not let him get away so easily. The girl was on top of him before he’d even hit the floor, the screwdriver now brandished in both hands and raised directly over her head. Blood pulsed and oozed from the wound, blossoming a red stain across Chuck’s shirt as he crossed his arms in front of his face.
Such a simple defensive tactic, however, would prove fruitless against the flurry of stabs to come. Chuck Grainger knew this. Just as he knew he was only moments away from death.
Chapter 7
As the screwdriver plunged toward the center of Chuck’s chest, Control grabbed Marilee’s pigtails with both hands. Throwing her body weight backward, the older woman simultaneously yanked, whipping the girl’s head back so violently that the child stared straight at the ceiling. The throat-rattling scream that erupted from Marilee was fueled by both rage and pain, but the girl’s smaller form was no match for the force exerted upon it.
As Marilee toppled, her arms flailed for balance and the screwdriver’s blade thudded into the floor, mere inches from Chuck’s throat. The jolt jarred the girl’s entire body, yet she somehow managed to maintain her grip on the handle. As Control wrenched her away, Marilee lashed out blindly, driving the screwdriver down again and again as Chuck rolled to avoid the blows.
Spittle sprayed from the child’s sneer as she snarled, contorting and writhing like a feral animal snared in a trap. Twisting her body in angles that almost seemed to defy physics, Marilee switched tactics. The screwdriver now slashed through the air, seeking not Chuck, but Control. The older woman still gripped the girl’s pigtails and she leapt backward as she arched her back, keeping the whirling child at arm’s length while also maximizing the distance between them.
“He saved you!” Marilee screamed. “He saved you, but you’ll die, too!”
Using the girl’s hair like reins, Control tugged and yanked, pulling the child
toward the center of the room. She’d initially reacted out of instinct. There’d been no master plan, no thought about what she’d do with the young girl once she’d pulled Marilee off Chuck. Even though she was twice Marilee’s size and clenched handfuls of hair in each fist, Control still found herself on the defensive in this skirmish. The screwdriver swished through the air tirelessly and Control focused on ensuring the beveled tip didn’t rip a gash across her arm. There was no time to think ahead. No time to form some sort of exit strategy. She simply bobbed and wove, locked in a violent dance with a girl whose eyes burned with murderous intent.
Chuck scrambled to his feet and hobbled across the room. His left hand pressed against the wound in his abdomen, but the flow could not be contained so easily. Blood seeped between his fingers and left a perforated trail of splatters on the carpet as he shambled toward his companions with as much speed as he could muster. Every step flared pain through his midsection and he ground his teeth against one another to keep from crying out, but he knew there was no choice. He had to push through it, to help Control, and try—somehow—to bring the nightmare this experiment had turned into to an end.
“Chuck, no!” Control shouted over the cacophony of Marilee’s inhuman snarls and growls. “I got this!”
Chuck, however, could not idly stand by and watch his partner grapple with the child. The soundproofing which kept outside noises from disturbing the meditative state required for his work also ensured no help would come; someone could stand just outside the door and not be aware of the violence playing out within the office. While biweekly visits to the fitness center on Level C had toned Control’s muscles over the years, sooner or later either she or Marilee would tire…and Chuck suspected the supernatural entity controlling the girl would not be the first to give out.
Control’s concern, however, had alerted Marilee to Chuck’s intent. The child peered at him out of the corner of her eye as she slashed with the screwdriver. Though her gaze was only peripheral, the unadulterated hatred hit him like a concentrated beam of invisible fire. It burned into his soul before bursting into an inferno that consumed everything that made him human. Thought, emotion, and perception: For a moment they were all incinerated into cinders and ash, reducing Chuck to a scorched and hollow automaton that moved across the room with no true purpose.
The Realms of the Dead Page 18
