Hidden Sight (Coastview Prophecies Book 1)

by Simone Pond

  The rope dug into my waist, burning my skin. We went sky-high over a dip in the road, and I lost my grip. I could hear them laughing. The box slammed against the back of the truck. Starting over, I stretched my legs out and pointed my toes to get more length, but the box was farther away now and I just couldn’t get enough leverage. I started grabbing for the nails and bolts, but they were scattered everywhere. We went over another huge pothole and that time the truck flew. The men whooped and hollered as the wheels slammed back down onto the pavement.

  My head hit the glass window, but I ignored the sharp rush of pain because in their horseplay, the tool box came barreling down the truck bed toward me and banged against my legs. I chuckled to myself as I quickly opened it and dug around for anything that would be considered more deadly than a handful of nails. Something I could conceal underneath my jeans and t-shirt. Hammers, socket wrenches, screwdrivers, a hacksaw and pliers. I considered their weight for potential velocity and propulsion factor. It was between the hammer and the wrench. The hammer was too large to conceal. My final section: a wrench and a handful of the heavier-sized sockets. I stuffed the wrench into my bra and put the sockets into the back pockets of my jeans. I shoved the tool box away and cowered in the corner.

  The truck slowed down as we turned off the main road, driving deep into the hushed backwoods. An owl hooted somewhere off in the distance. Tree branches scraped against the truck the farther in we drove. Frogs croaked in a nearby creek. We were in a place that would confound my watch with the built-in GPS.

  The truck came to a stop, the engine shut off, and the men stepped out. The one with the curdling orange insides told the green one to get me down. Instead of untying the rope, he sliced through it with a blade of some sort. He grabbed my wrists and dragged me down the truck bed and shoved me to the ground.

  “Don’t do nothin’ stupid. Ain’t nothin’ but woods for miles,” he sneered.

  I kept my head down, crossing my arms over my chest to conceal any odd-shaped bumps. The green one cackled and ripped off my sunglasses. He threw them to the ground and stomped repetitively until the plastic cracked under his boot. My shields of protection smashed to pieces. I knew closing my eyes would only rile them up, so I kept them open and faced the demons head on.

  “Don’t need to hide those perty eyes from us,” the sunglass stomper said, stroking my cheek.

  I pulled back, causing him to yank my hair and pull me close, his beer and cigarette breath hot against my cheek.

  “Nope,” he grunted. “You don’t pull away from me, missy.”

  “Sorry,” I muttered, though I wasn’t in the slightest bit. A better description of my mood would’ve been incensed or outraged. I wasn’t letting these two drunken demons win. I had faith—blind perhaps—this wasn’t the end. My old determination reignited.

  The green one pulled me by my hair and stepped over to his buddy. “We should call some of the fellas … Have ourselves a little party.”

  “Get ’er inside the shack first,” he said.

  Whatever determination I had just summoned slid back down my throat like a blob of hot tar.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Vago

  When I woke up, day had shifted into night. Somehow I had changed back to my dog form while knocked out from the tree branch clunking me on the head. Sibyl and Eli no longer shouted my name. I was alone in the cool August night. The howl of dogs carried through the woods and ricocheted off the trees. Something pulled at my heart. Stronger than the connection I felt with Sibyl. As the howls grew louder from the pack of dogs, the pull grew stronger. They were calling to me … I sensed it in my bones.

  I jumped to all fours and sniffed. Dampness layered the air. Musk. Dogs. I tracked the scent deeper into the woods where the howling resonated louder. I opened my mouth and released a howl, answering the call. The pull grew stronger. I broke into a sprint, weaving through the trees and leaping over rocks, until I reached the bottom of a steep hill. I looked up to the moon illuminating the blue-black sky above. At the top of the hill stood a pack of eleven chocolate brown Labrador retrievers—my pack, their bodies silhouetted in the moonlight. I had to get to them. I hastily clambered up the side of the hill, digging my claws into the moist dirt, but I slid backward rather than making any headway.

  Woof!

  One of the dogs on the far end peered down at me and barked. He walked along the ridge of the hillside, continuing to bark as he stared down at me. I took it as an indication to follow along.

  A few hundred feet away, I came upon an incline that led to the top of the hill. I darted up the slope and joined the others. Their howls and whimpers echoed in the night. We were together again. It had been a long time.

  Standing among my pack, I expected to hear their thoughts mixed in with my own, but we communicated on a deeper level. No words exchanged. Something more profound and inexplicable. Maybe it was our primordial instincts communicating. Or our souls. It didn’t matter because we were in sync. And I was at home with my pack.

  The largest of the group stepped forward, his pale blue eyes—the same color we all had—glinting in the moonlight. He glared toward the south, and a low growl rolled in his throat as he bared his sharp incisors. Something evil was out there and because he sensed it, the rest of us did. Nothing more needed to be explained.

  He moved in front of the pack, moving back down the incline that I had just ascended. The rest of us filed behind our leader into the gorge. Whatever wicked thing or things lurked and roamed in the darkness of the forest, we were going after it together.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Sibyl

  The two demons shoved me forward toward what they were calling “the shack” and unlocked the chain scraping up against the door. The evilness inside sparked as they grew more excited. My heartbeat slowed to a drudge and breathing hurt. My only hope was one of them passing out from too much alcohol. Or a miracle.

  “Git in there, missy.” The green one pushed me through the entrance into the dank shack.

  Musty mildew and something metallic and tinny whirled in the air. A combination of blood and other bodily fluids. I had entered a den of hell where demon lions would soon devour me. A whimper inadvertently released from my throat, which caused a cackle from the green-eyed goblin.

  “Go on and make yerself comfy, right over here.”

  He pushed me to the floor so that my ass hit the wood hard, jolting my vertebrae. The bigger shock came from the fingers that touched mine as I leaned back against the wall.

  “What the—” I jumped.

  “Aww, that’s just another perty thang we’ve been playing with. But she’s almost finished. We’ll be gettin’ rid of her soon. Ain’t that right?”

  The orange one only grumbled a response as he stomped around the shack, opening cabinets and slamming drawers.

  “What you lookin’ fer, Wayne?”

  “Shut yer mouth and keep our names outta this.”

  “Not like it matters.”

  Wayne must’ve found what he was looking for because he stopped pacing around and dropped down onto a chair. There was the sound of rubber snapping against skin, a lighter flickering, the sizzle of something, followed by a moan of relief.

  The green one stomped across the room. “Damn, Wayne. Didn’t save none fer me. Asshole.”

  No response from Wayne.

  Enraged, he stalked over to me and leaned down so his rank breath saturated the air around me. “I gotta make some calls and there ain’t no reception in this spot. So I’ll be right back. You make any moves, Wayne over there’s got a midnight special aimed right at yer perty blond head. Got it?”

  I nodded.

  His fist slammed into my cheek, sending a fire storm through my jawbone and down my neck.

  “I said, you got it?” he spat.

  “I got it,” I said through gritted teeth.

  He got up and left the shack. I vowed to make sure it hurt when I winged one of the sockets at his head. With Way
ne nodding out across the room, I dug into my pockets and started lining up my weapons.

  “Midnight special pointed at me my ass,” I muttered.

  “Sibyl?” a soft voice murmured as those fingers once again reached out and touched my hand.

  “Who is that?” I whispered.

  “Marlo.”

  How could that be? She was supposed to be on her road trip heading back to college for fall semester. Why was she sitting on the floor of this evil shack? And why couldn’t I see her cerulean spirit that reminded me of the bejeweled waters surrounding the Galápagos Islands?

  “Marlo? What happened?”

  “I went to fill up the gas tank last night. That’s when they got me.” She muffled her cries against my shoulder.

  I stroked her hair, which was caked with dry blood and who knows what else. “Shh, it’s going to be okay. I’m here now.”

  “Didn’t you hear what Hannah said? They’re finished with me. They’ll probably use me for some blood sacrifice. Or cut me into pieces and play toss. They’re demonic. Pure evil.”

  Wayne’s chair scooted against the wood floor. “What’s goin’ on over there?” he mumbled.

  Marlo and I stayed quiet.

  A few moments dragged by, then Wayne’s head clunked against the wall.

  “You have to tell me what’s going on in here. Give me the layout. Be my eyes,” I told Marlo.

  “There’s a filthy stained mattress in the corner to our right about five feet away. That’s where they—” She began to whimper, cutting herself off.

  I reached for her hands, still longing to see her bright turquoise glow. But her spirit was nowhere in sight. It was hidden. I couldn’t imagine what she had gone through in the last twenty-four hours. I prayed this evilness hadn’t destroyed the radiant light of her spirit forever. I’d do whatever I could to help bring it back.

  “Okay, what else?” I asked.

  “Wayne is in a metal chair about twenty feet across the room. He just shot up, so he’ll be out for another hour or two. He has a gun, but he’s barely got a grip on it. There’s a sink, some cabinets to his right. No windows in the entire place. There’s a drain in the middle of the room they use to relieve themselves and probably drain the blood from bodies.”

  Marlo stopped talking, her hands trembling in mine. As I waited for her to settle, I calculated the layout. Hannah had walked me into the shack about ten feet before he shoved me to the left. There was a mattress to our right. Wayne was directly across from us. A sink to his right.

  “What’s to our left?” I asked.

  “A device,” she said.

  “A what?”

  “Something you chain people to. It has chains and cuffs.” Her voice quavered as she explained.

  “Don’t worry, Marlo. You’re not going to die. Not tonight anyway. Are there any lights?”

  “There’s just one red lightbulb hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room over that drain hole.”

  I pulled the socket wrench from my bra and placed it on the floor between us, then took the rest of the sockets from my jeans and laid them next to the wrench. I had six chances.

  “Listen to me, Marlo. And listen like your life depends on it, okay?”

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  “I’m going to wing one of these sockets at Wayne over there. If I’m worthy of my MVP, I’ll be able to nail him in the head. But I need him to open his eyes so I can see where his head is. When I whistle, move out of the line of fire just in case he actually shoots.”

  “You can see him?” she asked.

  I handed her the wrench. “I’ll explain later. Just trust me. After I throw the socket, I need you to jump up, smash that lightbulb with the wrench, then position yourself by the door. When Hannah comes through, stay back. I’ll handle the rest. Okay?”

  Marlo took a gulp of air and almost choked on it. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Trust me,” I assured her.

  We got into crouching positions, Marlo’s breathing quickened. A silence enveloped me like the moment before I throw a pitch. I focused on the orange glow emanating from Wayne’s middle, I needed to see his eyes so I could judge my aim. I came to a standing position and placed my feet with my toes pointing toward the side as though preparing for “the set” at the pitcher’s mound. I raised my right hand and pulled my elbow back and high, then whistled. Wayne remained a dead heap. Nothing in the eyeball region.

  “Wayne!” I shouted.

  He jolted upright in his chair. I winged the socket directly between his glowing orbs of orange. The thunk resonated through the shack, and he dropped from the chair to the floor. Marlo followed my instructions. The sound of glass shattering came next. I darted to where Wayne’s body lay and patted around for the gun.

  “It’s over here by the sink,” Marlo said, coming up next to me.

  “I told you to wait by the door!”

  The door opened, and Hannah came barreling into the cabin, hollering. He wasn’t expecting it to be dark, so it took a second before he realized we weren’t in our spot. His green eyes burned in our direction. The wrench in Marlo’s hands clanked to the floor. Hannah moved fast across the room—too fast for me to get a proper aim and wing another socket. He dove on top of me, slamming my head against the floor. Pain splintered across my skull and a sharp ring pierced my ears. He gripped my throat. I coughed and choked, trying to pull away. I patted the floor for the wrench Marlo had dropped. My fingers brushed against something metal. The wrench! As I began to pull it over, Hannah’s boot came down on my hand. I howled in agony, rolling onto my side and curling into a ball.

  “You blind bitch!” Hannah shouted, grabbing me and slamming my head against the floor.

  Using my pitching arm, I flung one of the sockets at his head pretty hard, but I didn’t have enough leverage to do any real damage. I crawled away to get some distance between us as he yelped in pain.

  “I’m gonna tear out those perty eyeballs and make you eat ’em, you little bitch!”

  He stood up and marched toward me. I pulled my arm back and lifted my knee, winging the shit out of that socket. It clunked against his frontal lobe and he went down like a sack of rocks.

  “You got him!” Marlo sang out.

  “We need to get out of here before anyone else comes. Find their keys.”

  I patted around Hannah’s front and back pockets, noticing that he wasn’t only out cold. He was dead. I killed him. Marlo grunted as she rolled Wayne over and jingled keys from his pocket. I asked her to grab the wrench and the midnight special.

  “Maybe you should carry the gun,” I said.

  “I don’t know how to shoot a gun.”

  “Hopefully you won’t have to. But hold onto it for protection.”

  Marlo held my hand and guided me out of the shack.

  “Wait,” she said, turning around and running back inside.

  “What are you doing?” I shouted.

  She opened the cabinets until she found what she was looking for. I heard the twist of bottle caps, then the sharp aroma of grain alcohol hit my nose. Marlo doused the floorboards and the mattress with the alcohol. When she finished, she helped me into the truck, ran back to the shack, and flicked Wayne’s lighter. A whoosh of flames came to life.

  Marlo jumped into the truck and started the engine, tearing down the driveway. Neither of us spoke as we sped away from the burning shack. Her foot stayed firmly pressed against the pedal.

  “Noooo!” she cried out, hitting the brakes so hard my forehead smashed into the windshield.

  “What’s going on?” I yelled.

  Marlo grabbed my hand and whispered, “It’s the fellas.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Vago

  The pack leader stopped, so we all stopped. The smell of burning wood wafted over, the tendrils of smoke weaving between us. We needed to hurry. The twelve of us raced through the pines, dodging the trees as we tracked the scent. The smoldering embers grew stronger. S
omething pulled at my instincts. Trouble waited ahead. I heard Sibyl’s call again.

  I raced ahead to the pack leader, howling with my snout lifted skyward. He joined my cries, encouraging me to forge ahead. I charged forward up a steep incline, the rest of the pack trailing behind. At the top of the hill, I stopped and howled into the black night. The sound crossed over the sound barrier of the physical realm into the unseen. I was letting Sibyl know I was coming. We were coming. The pack leader sniffed the air; each inhale imbued him with more information. He took off down the other side into a gorge that was darker and swampier than the previous one. We trudged through the muddy waters, panting and clawing our way forward, until we came to a clearing.

  The source of the smoke was a burning shack. Flames rose from the embers as beams of wood collapsed. The structure folded inward. The fire blazed and whipped high, but somehow the surrounding trees and brush remained untouched.

  I sensed this was a place where evil things happened. A place where the darkest of spirits roamed. Some were close by. We sensed their presence. My spine prickled and my hackles rose. I had to get down the road. Down the road. The pack leader released another howl. We all began howling. He took off into the clearing and the rest of us followed down the long driveway.

  We came upon three parked vehicles. Two of the trucks were blocking another that had been trying to exit the driveway. Their headlights beamed so I couldn’t make out details of the group, only silhouettes. But among the pine, wet leaves, liquor, and tobacco, a scent hit me.

  Sibyl.

  I expelled a bellow from the bowels of my soul. Without waiting for instructions from the pack leader, I tore away from the group and rushed down the dirt path toward the trucks. Sibyl’s sweet vanilla scent grew stronger the closer I got.

  Woof!

  Sibyl—not wearing her sunglasses—glanced up from the headlock one of the burly men had her in. Though her face was swollen and bleeding, she smiled when she heard my bark.