Broken Souls (The Chronicles of Mara Lantern, Book 2)

by D. W. Moneypenny

  “So can you make the dragon come out? I want to see him,” Hannah said.

  “Believe me, kid, you don’t want to see the dragon,” Abby said. Turning to Mara she asked, “Where did she come from?”

  “I’ve no idea. There was a flood of light that came out of the grandfather clock, and, when I opened it, she stepped out.” Mara turned to the girl. “Where did you come from? Did Prado send you?”

  “I brought you that book.” She pointed toward Ping, who was opening the cover.

  “I didn’t realize it was a book,” Mara said.

  Suter walked up to Ping and looked over his shoulder. “Book? What kind of book?”

  Ping flipped through the pages. He fanned the pages, scanning as they flew by. He looked up and said, “It’s blank. All the pages are blank. Except the cover page. It has a handwritten title on it.”

  Ping held the book out to the soft light of the electric lantern. Written on the first page in a neat script was The Chronicle of Continuity. He locked eyes with Mara but said nothing.

  Suter grabbed the book from Ping and flipped through it himself. “It’s blank! How can it be blank?”

  Turning to Hannah, he said, “Are you the Keeper of the Chronicle? The progenitor?”

  Hannah rolled her eyes and pointed at Mara. “Mar-ree is, not me.”

  “Where did you come from?” Suter demanded.

  Hannah tucked herself behind Ping’s leg. “I can’t tell you. I promised not to tell. Leave me alone.”

  “Why are all the pages blank?” Suter asked, holding out the book.

  “You give that book to Mar-ree! It belongs to her,” Hannah yelled, but stayed behind Ping’s leg.

  “Why are there no words in the book?” He shook it at her.

  “Because Mar-ree hasn’t written it yet, stupid.” Hannah tugged on Ping’s pants leg and said, “Make him leave me alone.”

  Mara turned to Abby and said, “Would you mind taking Hannah into the office for a few minutes so we can figure out some things? I think there are several treats in the upper right-hand drawer. Maybe play some games on your phone or something?”

  Abby nodded, and Mara turned to Hannah. “Can you go hang out with Abby for few minutes? We won’t be too long.”

  Hannah nodded and let Abby lead her toward the office. As she got to the doorway, she turned around and called back, “You better hurry.”

  CHAPTER 54

  A loud bang and metallic rattle rang out from the garage door in the back wall, and someone wiggled the doorknob next to it. Mara, Ping and Suter stood still for several minutes, waiting for whatever lurked outside to move along. Their silence allowed the sounds of the night to seep in. The crash of glass followed by a woman’s piercing scream and the repetitious bleating of a car alarm sounded a couple blocks away. A loud ripping sound, metallic screeches and a sudden thunderous crash sounded much closer. They felt rumbles through the floorboards.

  Glaring at Suter, Mara pointed to the door and whispered, “You need to do something about this. Can you do the ceremony here? Will that work?”

  He held up the leather-bound book and said, “I need to investigate the significance of this book and understand where that little girl came from before I do anything.”

  “We don’t have time for that. You need to do your liturgy and inter Prado before he destroys the entire city. People are dying out there.”

  “Mara, if this is the ancient book from the future, then we are experiencing the rampage of the darkling wraith. The implications of that are mind-boggling, and the consequences are profound.”

  “Let’s assume that is the book, the Chronicle of Continuity, and that’s the darkling wraith out there. Does any of that prevent you from conducting the ceremony that will draw out Prado’s soul?”

  “No, in that case, I would be obliged to conduct the ceremony. But I would need to know that that little girl is the Keeper of the Chronicle, the progenitor from the future, then there would be no doubt, and I could help the darkling wraith conclude the gathering and inter him properly.”

  Ping interrupted, “Am I to understand that you think that child traveled here from the future, and you believe she is a progenitor?”

  Suter nodded eagerly. “According to our oral histories, a progenitor with the power to rewrite history will send us an ancient book from the future, and that will herald the coming of the Aphotis.” He turned back to Mara. “But I cannot be sure the child is the progenitor until I speak with her.”

  Mara shook her head. “She is not the progenitor. Like she told you before, I am.”

  “That makes no sense. The child brought the book back. She’s the one who is rewriting history.”

  Mara reached out and took the book. She opened it to the title page and held it up. “See this title?”

  Suter nodded.

  “That’s my handwriting.”

  Suter’s eyes widened. “But how?”

  More crashes and screams came through the back walls of the shop.

  “I’m not sure, but we don’t have a lot of time to figure it out. You wanted a book from the future by a progenitor who could rewrite Time. You’ve got one. It’s time to step up and do your thing.”

  “But the book is blank.”

  “The kid said I hadn’t written it yet,” Mara said. “Perhaps it’s supposed to be a diary or a journal of some kind. Is there some information you were supposed to get from this book, some guidance or wisdom or something? Is it required to perform this ceremony?”

  “Not specifically, no. It was described as one of the signs of the advent of the Aphotis.”

  Ping held up a hand. “Pardon me, but I’m a little uncomfortable with this. What is this Aphotis from your oral history? Is that like aphotic life, plants and animals that exist in total darkness? I don’t like the sound of that. What is the nature of this creature that you believe is being heralded?”

  “Listen, you two, we don’t have time for a theological or metaphysical symposium. Ping, I’ve watched one of these ceremonies when I was over in the other realm. It’s a little weird, but I believe it will do the trick. Suter, you need to get this through your head. Whether there’s an Aphotis, a darkling wraith or a little girl toting a book from the future or not, you’re going to conduct that liturgy of beguilement. Otherwise, you can hit the road and take your chances with the zombies outside.”

  She cocked an ear and listened to the ongoing mayhem outside.

  “Very well. I’ll do it, but I’ll need you with me.”

  “No problem. What else do you need for the ceremony? I don’t have a flute or a rotating turntable or any of the other things that were used in the ceremony we attended.”

  “Most of that is ritual for the benefit of the mourners. The key to doing this is for me to be in the right mind-set to exert influence over the spirit. Wearing a cowl or having my head hooded would help in that regard. I will need to be in the presence of the darkling wraith, but distant enough not to be overcome by it while I attempt to inter it.”

  “Hmm. Why don’t you keep track of this?” Mara handed the small thick leather-bound book to Ping and walked out of the range of the electric lantern. Her silhouette crossed to the workbench and ducked down behind it. The sounds of rummaging with an occasion clank came from the darkness. “This will work,” she said.

  Returning to the light, she held a folded gray tarp and what looked like a neon yellow boat line. “Bruce puts this down on the floor if he’s doing something greasy. I’m not sure where this plastic rope came from, but it’ll work as a belt. Is that all you need?”

  “I would like to wash my hands,” Suter said.

  Mara handed him the tarp and rope, then put the electric lantern on top of the bundle in his arms. “Take this. The restroom is behind the office, around that little corner over there. I’ll grab the small flashlight out of my desk in the office.”

  Suter turned and shuffled away leaving Ping and Mara standing in the dark.

  “Are you confi
dent this is the correct course of action?” Ping asked.

  “Confident isn’t the word I would use,” Mara said. “I don’t know if Prado has turned into this darkling wraith or if any of that other nonsense that Suter is spouting is true. Frankly I don’t care if it is, as long as he believes it and can put Prado’s soul into that lightbulb and take him back to where he belongs.”

  “So you don’t believe you’re the progenitor who has the ability to rewrite history?”

  “I’d tell him that I’m the colonel who invented fast-food fried chicken if that’s what it takes to get him to conduct that ceremony.”

  “That does look like your handwriting in the book, the Chronicle of Continuity.”

  “I know.”

  “Perhaps we should ask Hannah a few more questions before we proceed.”

  “I didn’t want to grill her in front of Suter.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I’m not sure, just a feeling. She didn’t seem to like him very much.”

  “If you don’t trust him, perhaps you should reconsider doing this ceremony.”

  “There’s not an alternative. Nothing else to try at this point.”

  “How are you going to get him in the presence of Prado without subjecting him to being taken over like the others?”

  “I’m going to take him up on the roof. That’ll put him in the presence of a bunch of Prados, don’t you think?”

  “I think I should go with you.”

  “Oh, I think so too. Someone has to help me beat back the zombies while Suter does his thing.”

  CHAPTER 55

  Mara pushed open the office door with two fingers, swinging it back silently. Abby had not closed it all the way when she and Hannah had entered. The glow of Abby’s phone cast light across her face as she raised a finger to her lips. She turned the phone downward to spotlight Hannah, who was curled up in a fetal position in the footwell under the desk, fast asleep, a thumb tucked into her mouth.

  Slowly opening a drawer, Mara extracted a flashlight, then cocked her head sideways, indicating she wanted Abby to follow her out of the office.

  Outside Mara said, “We’re going up onto the roof. I want you to stay down here with Hannah until we get back. Can you do that?”

  “I suppose. What are you hoping to accomplish up there?” Abby asked, then raised a hand. “Don’t tell me. It’s complicated.”

  “Well, it is complicated, but I don’t mean that to be rude or to not give you an answer. I don’t think we have enough time to explain everything right now.” Looking past Abby’s shoulder into the office, Mara asked, “Did she say anything to you?”

  “No. I tried to make conversation, but all I got out of her was that she’s five years old, and it’s past her bedtime.”

  Suter walked around the corner wrapped in the tarp with the neon cord around his midsection. Despite the improvised robe, he looked as if he had donned one of his own robes. He held the electric lantern in one hand and the luminiere in the other.

  “Okay, are we ready to go?” Mara asked. She held up a finger and added, “Just one more thing.” She walked out of the range of the light, past the workbench again. She reached behind the edge of some shelves and pulled out a large broom and a mop. She placed the head of each under her foot and unscrewed the handles. Returning to the light, she handed the metallic mop handle to Ping. “This isn’t really going to make much of a weapon. The idea is to keep any of the shedding victims from touching you or from getting up on the roof once we are up there.”

  “What about me? Don’t I get one?” Suter asked.

  “You concentrate on getting Prado into that lightbulb, and we’ll keep the zombies from turning you into one of them, got it?” She patted her jeans pocket. “The minute you’ve got him, let me know, and I’ll send you both back where you came from.”

  “You’re very bossy for someone so young,” Suter said.

  “Anyone with a better idea who wants to take over management of this particular venture, by all means step forward,” Mara said. Without waiting for a response, she looked at Ping. “I’ll go first to make sure the coast is clear. Then Suter. Then you cover his backside, okay? About five feet to the left of the door, there’s a steel ladder mounted into the wall that leads directly up to the roof. That’s where we are headed. I haven’t heard anyone outside the door in a little while, so now might be our chance. If I get distracted, and you reach the ladder before me, go ahead and climb up.”

  She turned to Abby. “Promise me you will stay in here. I can’t keep my eyes on you and these guys all at the same time.”

  “I’ve no desire whatsoever to go out there,” she said.

  “Good.” Turning back to Ping, she leaned toward him. Under her breath, she said, “No dragons, no poofing, just poke the zombies with the stick, okay?”

  He saluted with the mop handle. “I will do my best.”

  She tucked the small flashlight into her left pocket as she walked over to the door. Wrapping her fingers around the doorknob, she took a deep breath, mentally counted to three and turned it, pressing her shoulder against the door as it opened. Holding the broomstick in front on her, she swung around in the alley to see behind the door. No one was outside, though she could clearly hear screams and crashes in the distance. She thought she saw movement in the distance, but it seemed like someone walking past the mouth of the alley at the end of the block.

  She ran to the ladder and began to climb, clumsily holding the broomstick under her left arm. Halfway up the side of the building, she felt Suter and Ping climbing behind her, vibrations running through the metal rungs under her hands and feet. A mental image of a being blocked at both ends of the ladder motivated Mara speed up her ascent.

  “Mara,” Ping whispered, trying to make his voice loud enough to be heard, but not loud enough to carry. “Mara! Look up!”

  At first she looked down under her right arm to see what he was yelling about, then the message sunk in, and she glanced upward. A craggy shadow hung out over the ladder from the rooftop, vacantly staring down at them. It bent over, and Mara felt a light wind brush past her forehead as its impossibly long arm swung downward at her. She cringed and stepped down one rung. Over her shoulder, she shouted, “Back up, you guys. Back up!”

  The shaking of the ladder increased as the sound of fast shuffling and clattering of leather against steel rose up from below. She remained where she was. Glancing downward again, she saw Ping and Suter had reached the ground. They had gotten out of the way. Now the ladder shook again, this time from above. The silhouette at the top of the ladder seemed to be trying to figure out how to get onto it. It hiked its leg onto one of the top rungs but didn’t appear able to figure out how to shift its weight forward and take the next step.

  Mara closed her eyes, straining with concentration. She disappeared in a flash of light. So did the figure at the top of the ladder. An instant later, in a second flash of light, they reappeared in each other’s place. Mara stood at the top of the ladder looking down. The tall, lanky man with cracked gray skin stared blindly into the night with one leg extended out into the air, trying to get a foothold where there was none.

  Mara reached down with the broomstick and poked him in the chest. He grabbed the stick and pulled it toward him. For a moment Mara thought he was going to pull her over the ledge, and, in her exasperation, she shoved it at him, connecting with his sternum, sending him tumbling to the ground.

  From the alley below, Ping called up, “Mara, are you okay?”

  “Watch out, one of them just fell down the ladder!”

  She could make out the outlines of Suter and Ping in the alley. Movement at the base of the ladder indicated the shedding victim was getting up. He stood between them and the ladder.

  Mara closed her eyes and muttered to herself, “Come on. Come on. Give me two for one, two for one.”

  She sensed a flash of light through her eyelids. When she opened them, she stood in the alley below with the lanky sheddi
ng victim lumbering toward her. She glanced up and saw Ping running along the edge of the roof, looking downward. Suter, assuming he had popped up there with Ping, had backed out of sight.

  “Join us, Mara. Join us,” the creature said in that deep baritone with the light lisp that turned “us” into a breathy hiss. It reached out with gray bony fingers clawing at the air between them.

  Mara shivered and said, “No, thanks Prado. I’m not a darkling-wraith kinda girl.” She raised her hands, and he froze, midgait with a hip and shoulder cocked oddly into the air. Mara walked around him and grabbed the bottom rungs of the ladder and lifted herself up. After quickly climbing to the top, she saw a hand reach out over the ledge above, startling her.

  “Let me help you up,” Ping said, grasping her arm.

  “I’m assuming there are not more of them up here, or you two would be running around trying to avoid Prado. He seems to be getting talky again. I wish he would find someone to talk to besides me. I’m starting to get paranoid.”

  Suter stood at the edge of the roof over the front of the building. “Come here. You have got to see this.”

  Mara and Ping jogged toward him. As they approached the waist-high brick wall that surrounded the roof, Mara heard a soft chant, “Join us, Mara. Join us.” It sounded like hundreds of people softly whispering in unison.

  CHAPTER 56

  Mara’s breath caught in her throat as she approached the edge of the roof, seeing all below. Movement and fluorescent light drew her eyes to the sidewalk across the street. There stood dozens of greenly transparent figures with stricken expressions of confusion and panic, lost souls looking out onto the street with revulsion and dread where hundreds of decomposing gray-skinned people filled Woodstock Boulevard, all of them standing still and straight, their wet black eyes turned upward toward the roof above Mason Fit-it. Most of them wore pajamas or hospital gowns that were torn or filthy or both. They stood in a landscape of desolation amid shattered storefronts, uprooted shrubbery and overturned cars. Streams of smoke hung in the air, barely visible in the light of distant streetlamps and a fire some two blocks away. All of them said in that deep baritone, “Join us, Mara. Join us.”