by Sara Clancy
They’re still underwater, his mind screamed at him. How long had they been under water?
“Get down.”
Rene’s warning barely gave Louis enough time to flatten himself against the deck before he heard the anchor hit the water on the far side of the boat. The rope zipped against the railing as the anchor plunged into the bayou. Water sprayed over him as the rope dragged past, following the anchor and hopefully bringing the girls closer to the surface. With another resounding ping, this louder than the last, the rope pulled tight, vibrating an inch above him. Louis rolled to the side and thundered down the gangplank, Rene already at his heels, urging him faster. Rene pushed in front and they bolted towards the truck. From somewhere deep in the shadows, they could hear the sound of something thrashing. They could only hope it was the girls.
***
Marigold sucked in a deep breath the second she broke the surface. Water sloshed into her mouth and a few traces of moss made her gag, but oxygen still hit her lungs with a dizzying rush. She yanked, feeling her skin peel as she struggled to free her arm. Cordelia grabbed the window frame with both hands, holding on tight to keep both of their heads above the water as Marigold worked. Twin pinpricks of blue burned under the water as the Wailing Woman rose from the impossible depths, her twisted fingers reaching up to grab them once more. Pain sparked on Marigold’s arm as she contorted her wrist until it tittered to the point of breaking. She wrenched her arm down and, with a final rip of skin, her hand slipped from the tangles of the rope. Cordelia heaved her torso out of the open wind. Water sloshed over Marigold, striking her head and making her sputter as she shoved at Cordelia. Finally, she managed to slither out of the window and Marigold was able to grab the door frame to follow.
The process would have been easier if Marigold braced her feet on the dashboard and chair, but she couldn’t bring herself to be still for too long. The eyes still glowed in the darkness and she was sure that at any moment a bony hand would wrap around her ankle and drag her back under. Her wet fingers skidded over the metal and she tumbled back into the water. She could see the Woman, floating just below the door, her hands only inches from Marigold’s feet. Hands reached in from above and latched onto her shirt, hauling her through the gap and into the night air. The whole time Marigold never looked away from the Woman. The ghost made no attempt to follow but merely watched as Marigold was dragged away.
Marigold’s feet had barely touched the mud before the hands on her forced her into a sprint. The haunting screech of the Woman drove painfully into her ears and shadows streaked through the fog. The flashes of darkness upon the tainted fog swirled around the group like debris caught in a hurricane. Her heart pounded against ribs that felt too small to contain them, her lungs strained to function while water still lingered within them, and each step turned the muscles of her legs to fire. The cool metal of the gangplank was a welcomed relief. It rattled in time to her throbbing wrist as they threw themselves up the short distance, almost tripping over their own feet as their legs struggled to meet the demands of their mind. Each one of them fell onto the deck, heaving and panting, and too scared to turn around.
Marigold dropped onto all fours, water dripping from her hair as it fell in sludge-covered curtains around her. A shrill whine filled her ears as she wretched, heaving up mouthfuls of water even as she tried to catch her breath. As the sound faded, the mumbled words of the people around her came into focus. Her head felt like a cement block. Her neck protested its lift. After a few aborted attempts, she managed to lift her gaze to the people around her. Cordelia and the man clutched at each other, whispering words of comfort and reassurance. The sight made it click in Marigold’s mind that the man with her was Rene, Cordelia’s new husband.
Marigold had never seen either of them before and it was oddly surreal to see them now, here, soaked, mud-stained and shaking from fear and dispersed adrenaline. Blinking her vision clear, Marigold tried to get a closer look at Cordelia. From what she could tell in the muted light, Cordelia and Louis shared a strong family resemblance. They both had the same dark skin, full lips, and pointed chins. However, it appeared that Cordelia’s wide eyes were quite a few shades darker than Louis’. Even now, Cordelia carried with her a refined beauty that terror couldn’t rob her of; an inherited grace that couldn’t be taken away.
In contrast, Rene was gruff and chiseled. He looked to be forged by struggles and hardships and was more than a little bitter about it. There were scars on his knuckles and a sharp glint in his narrow gaze. Each time he shoved his light brown hair out of his eyes, the fringe would tumble back into place. Before Marigold could see any more, Louis shot to his feet. His hands twisted in their clothes as he forced the couple to their feet and pushed them towards the door to the boat. Marigold scrambled up and followed. He slammed the door shut the second after she slipped through. The short burst of activity had robbed them of what little strength they had gathered and each slid down to sit on the floor. Time stretched out in silence, no one really knowing what to say as their breathing returned to normal. Rene was the first one to speak.
“What the hell just happened?” he growled.
Louis was too focused on reassuring himself that his cousin was unharmed to answer, so Rene’s glare focused on Marigold instead. It struck her that she had never had to explain any of this to another person. She had always been the one who needed the rules of her new nightmarish world explained to her. It was humbling and intimidating to be on the other side of things and she didn’t quite know where to start. But surely, having just married a Dupont, a family with deep and numerous ties to the paranormal, he would be aware of the basics. So what exactly was he asking? His glare narrowed at her hesitation and she stammered out an answer.
“That was a Wailing Woman.”
“What?” Even utter confusion couldn’t rid him of his permanent scowl.
“A ghost.”
Rene stared at her for a moment before he snarled. “Ghosts don’t exist, so that ain’t likely.”
Cordelia blindly reached out and draped her hand over his forearm, the small diamond of her wedding ring glistening even in the dim light.
“I’ve told you that they do, sugar. More than once.”
“Oh, for sure,” his thick accent curled around every syllable. “But I ain’t crazy, so I never believed you.”
Laughter sputtered out of Louis despite his attempts to keep it in, “Well, tonight is going to be interesting for you then. Very educational.”
“This ain’t no time for joking. That bitch ran us off the road, she almost killed us, and she trashed my truck!”
Caught up in his anger, Rene switched from English to French. The change didn’t slow him down but instead allowed him to rattle off words at a greater speed. Louis and Cordelia both took to the shift easily but Marigold was left unable to follow the rest of the conversation. No one seemed to notice or care that Marigold had been removed from the equation and she was suddenly aware of the distance that separated her from the others. Cordelia was nestled between Louis and Rene, close enough to feel the warmth from both. Marigold was by the door, with nothing but aged carpet and cold steal within her reach. She itched to cross the distance, to join the safety of the pack, but she wasn’t sure if it would be welcomed. So she remained where she was and tried to fend off the growing chill of her soaked clothes by wrapping her arms around herself.
Eventually, the foreign words drifted into silence. It was a little startling to once again be thrust into the dynamics of the conversation when they all turned their attention to her. She swallowed and tried to smile, repressing the urge to wave when they continued to expectantly stare at her.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t understand anything any of you have said in the last five minutes.”
Cordelia straightened her spine as a delicate smile curled her lips.
“You must be Marigold,” she said. “I’m so glad to finally meet you.”
“Hi,” Marigold replied, only realizing after
it was down that she had, in fact, given an awkward wave.
“Well, don’t you look just like Louis described!”
Marigold’s brow furrowed with confusion. So, basically a pale redhead covered in freckles, she just managed to stop herself from saying aloud.
“Not to be rude,” Louis cut in, “but why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon?”
“We were,” Rene scowled.
The tension that coiled in Rene’s shoulders left him as Cordelia once again placed a hand upon his arm, this time cupping his bicep.
“This might shock you, Louie, but when you don’t show up where you’re supposed to be, people in your life start to worry. Your mama called us in a tizzy and asked us to come out here to check on you.”
Rene’s smile was too tight to show teeth, “Basically, we’re here because you can’t work out how to use a cell phone.”
Louis and Cordelia fixed him with matching glares. In that moment they looked enough alike to be twins.
“There’s no cell reception out here,” Louis said. “And you’ve met the reason why I didn’t go for a walk.”
Cordelia perked up, “Since we’re back on the topic. Why have you not mentioned that Poppy La Roux is hanging around?”
Marigold snapped her eyes to Louis to find him watching her with the same questioning expression. She shook her head slightly. She had no idea what Cordelia was talking about.
“Who the hell is Poppy La Roux?” Rene said.
“A woman who lived in the 1930’s. She ran an orphanage for unwanted children or children that couldn’t be calmed in polite society,” Louis explained. “Poppy would promise to raise the children for a monthly fee, however, she would kill the infants and continue to collect the payments.”
“She killed babies?” Rene’s words dripped with disgust. He shook his head, “I’m still confused. You saw this Poppy woman when we were outside? Like her grave?”
Cordelia hid her emotions well enough that it was hard to tell if she was annoyed or merely frustrated when she answered, “She was the one trying to drag me into the water.”
Rene blinked, licked his lips, and seemed to take care in how he framed his next question. “A woman from the 1930’s was in the water and strong enough to drag you down?”
“She also ran us off the road and made that god awful noise that I’m pretty sure left me with permanent hearing loss,” Cordelia said.
Marigold finally found her voice again and asked, “Are you sure it was Poppy?”
“I’m sure.”
When Marigold searched for Louis’ eyes again he wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he gazed across the floor as he struggled to make sense of what he was hearing.
“Is that possible?” Marigold asked. “None of the children she killed were hers.”
“It’s not impossible, they were still her charges, but I’ve never heard of it before,” Louis mumbled to himself. “And even if she did become one, I can’t imagine she could have haunted these waterways for so long without anyone noticing. Why now? Why here?”
“So, it might not be her?” Marigold pressed.
“The woman was three inches from my face,” Cordelia cut in. “I know it was her.”
“Apart from the fact that ghosts aren’t real.”
With an edge of frustration, Cordelia turned to her husband. “Sugar, I’ll be ready to believe whatever you want, as soon as you can provide me with a ‘rational’ explanation as to what happened out there.” She raised her eyebrows expectantly and stared as Rene opened and closed his mouth a few times. Despite his efforts, he didn’t make a single sound. “Well, now that we have that cleared up,” she turned to Louis and finished, “That woman out there is the late and despicable Poppy La Roux.”
“Why not,” Louis ran a hand over his head, “We have John La Roux banging on the door as a mare, why not Poppy as a Wailing Woman?”
Cordelia’s mouth opened, “I’m sorry, repeat that?”
Louis’ hand’s twitched as he lifted his head and tried to smile. “Oh, that? Yes, well, John La Roux is a mare. The boundaries are holding for now but he looked rather persistent.”
“Louie,” Cordelia said carefully, “How are you faring with that? I remember a few issues you had when you were little.”
“I’m dealing,” Louis cut in quickly. He shook his head like he was trying to jumble all of his thoughts around into something he liked more. “So, we obviously have a problem that I can’t solve.”
“I don’t know about any of that.” Cordelia shivered and leant into Rene’s side, “All I know is that Poppy La Roux just tried to kill me and there are a lot of corpses in that water.”
Marigold’s skin went cold as her eyes widened. She held her breath, hoping that Louis would let the comment slide. But his eyes were a fire against her cheek and she could feel his anger seeping into the air.
“Could you say that again?”
“Well, the water was murky and dark,” Cordelia said hesitantly, continuing when Rene wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. “But I’m sure I saw some bodies in there. The gators and critters had gotten at them, but they all looked alike. They had all been related.”
“Or identical?” Louis asked, his eyes never leaving Marigold.
“Maybe. I didn’t get that close of a look.”
“Did you touch one?”
“Not on purpose, I can assure you. But it touched me.”
“And it was solid?”
Cordelia’s mouth twisted, “As much as rotting flesh can be.”
The room fell silent. Marigold’s lungs were burning from keeping in the breath she couldn’t bring herself to let go. She inched her eyes towards Louis, but quickly looked elsewhere when she saw the barely contained indignation written across his features.
“What haven’t you told me, Marigold?” he said.
“It didn’t seem like something to bother you with.”
“Marigold.”
“And I kind of told you,” she said softly, “Remember? Every day, at the same time, one of the ghosts does his thing.”
“And ‘his thing’ was becoming corporeal?” Louis snapped. “No, you did not tell me that.”
“Does it really matter?” Marigold said.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because no ghost on this boat has enough energy to do that,” his voice continued to grow. She had never heard him yell before and she cringed under the onslaught. “For any of them to even get near that kind of activity, they would need to latch onto a powerful energy source.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Marigold said. “They’re keeping the things out there, well, out there. Don’t we want them to be stronger?”
“The boundaries aren’t built to handle something like that.”
Marigold finally met his gaze, “What?”
“Think of the boundary spells like battlement walls. They’re designed to withstand attacks, but there are limits. Having damage being inflicting on both sides of the wall isn’t helpful. It’s the exact opposite of helpful.” He froze for a moment, the fire draining from his face as his eyes widened.
“Louie?” Cordelia asked, “What is it?”
“The demon’s feeding them,” he muttered. “That’s why the ghost can become corporeal, and Miss. Giggles can physically move me, and Mr. Creeper can touch me.”
“Who?” Rene asked.
Louis ignored the question as he continued, “It’s feeding them, making them stronger so they wear down the boundaries on this end. Poppy and John didn’t become these ghosts on their own. It had probably latched onto them in the past and refused to take its claws out, even in death. Somehow, it brought them from the other side, all to put strain on the boundaries. They weren’t designed to withstand this kind of attack.”
“It can’t do that. It wouldn’t have the strength. Not after you have cut off its access to Marigold,” Cordelia was quick to say.
“I don’t think it was
drawing its strength from Marigold,” Louis said. “It has someone else. Someone or something with a powerful spiritual energy.”
Marigold felt a shiver down her spine, “What about the dubby?”
Louis’ head snapped up and he scrambled to his feet, “We’ve got a big problem.”
Chapter 13
“Are you actually telling me we’re in danger?” Rene snapped. “What the hell is wrong with you people?”
Louis was at the porthole, squinting into the shadows, trying and failing to catch sight of the dubby. Cordelia moved to stand by Louis, craning her neck to join the search but having as much luck as her cousin.
“Sugar,” Cordelia said. “I love you and I need you to be calm for me.”
“Calm? You’re talking about being under siege by the ghosts of murderers, who are taking orders from a demon, and you want me to be calm?”
Cordelia turned to face him, a patient smile on her lips, “Here are the cliff notes. There is a demon out there that wants in. Nothing good would come of that. Louis and I are looking into it and will let you know if and when it’s time to worry.”
“Why does it want in so bad?”
“That’s my fault,” Marigold said. “It wants me.”
Rene looked at her for a long moment before he shook his head and muttered, “Bloody La Roux.”
“It’s not her fault,” Louis was quick to say.
Suddenly, a thousand voices joined to create a howling scream that ripped past the sides of the boat. They all threw themselves back from the windows, eyes wide and mouths agape. The screaming continued, growing shrill and blazing, as if the gates of hell had opened within the mist.
“What is that?” Rene asked.
Louis’ eyes trailed over the ceiling, his jaw hanging loose, “That’s the boundaries fracturing.”
“We have to get out of here,” Cordelia said. “Louis, we can’t stay.”
“And we can’t go,” Louis replied. “Not while they’re out there. Poppy will try to drown you again.”
