GHOST CROWN: THE TRACKS TRILOGY - Book Two

by J. Gabriel Gates

  “Oh, no—no,” Uphir said quickly. “Not necessary.”

  Without another word, Orias led him down the stairs and to the study where he opened his father’s safe and took out a heavy canvas bag. “Twenty thousand,” he said. “It’s all here—in gold coins. Enjoy it.”

  “Yes, indeed,” Uphir said. Orias walked him to the door and when he’d opened it, Uphir went on. “This is always my favorite part,” he said with a grin. “Watch this.”

  Uphir walked down the steps and to the curb. Just then, a large moving truck came barreling down the street. The demon doctor suddenly lurched forward and leaped out in front of it. The truck hit with a sickening thud, a crunch of bones and then a screech of brakes as it came to a halt. Blood flowed across the pavement from the station attendant’s head, like the yolk from a broken egg. Orias could hear laughter as nine shadowy forms swirled around, circling the body like buzzards.

  Their laughter grew louder as the driver jumped out of the truck’s cab and ran around to look down, with horror, at the dead man, and they shrieked with amusement as he made the 911 call.

  “I need help! A man’s been hurt. I hit him. He just ran out in front of me. I . . . I think he might be dead.”

  “Catch you later,” Uphir’s voices whispered to Orias in unison from beneath the streetlights, and then the demon doctor’s wispy, shadowy form shot straight down—right through the blacktop, with the eight other screeching, screaming demons following. A second later, the white bag full of gold sank through the surface of the road, also disappearing.

  The truck driver was pacing back and forth next to the body, getting more hysterical by the moment. Orias shook his head and stepped back inside, closing the door behind him. Demons. Of course it was occasionally necessary to kill someone in order to achieve an objective, but did they really have to enjoy it so much?

  “Orias!”

  The deafening roar shook the whole house, and Orias stopped in mid-stride, frozen for a moment, every sense alert. He looked up at the ceiling and waited.

  “You did this, boy!” his father raged. “I’ll skin you alive! I’ll roast your kidneys and eat them! How dare you betray me? Orias! Orias!”

  In the tower, Oberon pounded on the door of his bedroom-turned-prison-cell until the windowpanes rattled. Orias waited, scarcely breathing, for the sound of the door splintering and his father thundering down the stairs, but seconds passed and all he heard was more screaming and pounding. Orias broke into a smile. The spell was holding.

  “You just wait, boy!” his father bellowed. “The train is coming! And when it does everything is going to change! You hear me? Everything!”

  Orias pointed up the stairs and made the sign he’d learned from a very old book he’d discovered in the basement of his mother’s home. Immediately, the roar of his father’s rage went silent, as if he were imprisoned in a soundproof room.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “You all right, popi?” Clarisse asked as she and Nass crossed the parking lot of Rack ’Em Billiards Hall. “You look a little sick.”

  The truth was, Nass wasn’t okay, not really. The knowing had been dogging him all day, nipping at his psyche. Something big was going down tonight, and the crushing weight of anticipation was so strong he felt like it might buckle his knees. The knowing had told him something about Clarisse, too—something he didn’t want to believe. He hadn’t planned on bringing her along, but she’d stopped by as his shift at Little Geno’s was ending. He’d told her she could go with him as far as Rack ’Em.

  “I’m fine,” he said. “I’ve got some stuff to take care of with my crew tonight. You can wait for me at home, or you can stay here with Dalton and the other girls, but you can’t come with me.”

  “Yes sir, jefe,” Clarisse said. She was always sarcastic, but he’d noticed a new, more acidic edge to her jokes the last couple days, and it was really getting on his nerves.

  As they approached the old western, saloon-style doors, Beet and Benji came out with Josh and Emory, and finally Raphael. Raph didn’t look so good either, Nass thought, but he was still firmly in charge. He led his crew out to the far end of the parking lot for a conference, his stride as quick and determined as ever.

  “Okay—listen up,” Raph said when everyone was huddled around. “We’re gonna do this. Beet, you got the gear?”

  Beet nodded. He still had a bandage across the bridge of his nose and purple rings under both his eyes, but he had recovered from Zhai’s previous attack nicely. “Yep—in the trunk. Shovels, a pickax, some rope, flashlights—everything you asked for.”

  Raphael nodded. “We have to be careful, guys. These Obie dudes are dead serious. We get in, get the treasure, and get out as fast as we can. No joking around. And if you have a cell phone, shut the ringer off. We’re going ninja-style here—quietly.”

  “You think Zhai might show up again?” Benji asked. He looked worried.

  “Yeah,” Raphael said. “And some other guys might show up with him so keep your eyes open—stay alert. Whoever they hit first, shout so that everyone else knows we’re under attack. Try to hold them off for a minute to give everybody else time to escape and then run like hell.”

  “You don’t want us to try and regroup and fight them off?” asked Josh.

  “Trust me, none of you guys can fight the Snakes,” Raph replied. “Even I can’t fight them. We’ve got to work as fast as we can. There’s more snow moving in later tonight and we don’t want to be out in it trying to dig.”

  “Where are you going to be?” Clarisse asked. Nass whirled around. He shouldn’t have been surprised to see that she was still there. He glared at her. She added placatingly, “Just in case something goes wrong and I need to send someone to look for you.”

  Nass hesitated, suddenly uncomfortable about giving her any information, but before he could figure out what that was all about, Raphael answered her.

  “In the woods, just southeast of the tunnel hill,” Raph said. “We’ll park the cars in that stand of old pines out on River Road and then hike in. Everybody ready? Let’s roll.”

  Nass turned and pointed at Clarisse. “Stay here,” he told her again. “I mean it, Clarisse.”

  “Yeah, yeah, mijo. I heard you.”

  “And how come you followed me out here when I told you to wait inside? How come you can’t do anything I ask?”

  Her smile was as enigmatic as it was beautiful. “I just can’t stay away from you, baby,” she said. Behind him, a car honked.

  “Yo, Nass! You coming or what?” Josh shouted.

  He gave her one last warning look and then jogged across the lot to the waiting car. As he got in, he looked back to see her standing alone under the streetlight, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket.

  

  Except for Zhai, the entire Toppers crew was gathered in the Banfield basement. Dax Avery and D’von Cunninham were playing pool, but the rest of the guys were slouched in the large, leather reclining couches in various poses of frustration.

  “Man, I can’t believe we lost,” Michael grumbled.

  “Shut the hell up,” Rick barked. His eyes flicked from his wide receiver back to the cell phone sitting on the table in front of him.

  The Middleburg Phoenixes had lost the state championship by twenty-one points. Rick had thrown three interceptions, Bran had fumbled twice, and the Cunninham brothers had allowed five sacks. They’d been humiliated in front of the whole town, and there was only one way Rick could think of to take out his anger. All they were waiting for now was the call from Clarisse.

  “You sure your ringer is on?” Cle’von asked quietly.

  “Of course it’s on. I’m not retarded,” Rick snapped. “Be patient.”

  His words plunged everyone into silence once again. When his phone rang at last Rick looked at the caller ID and pressed the talk button.

&nbs
p; “Hello?” It was Clarisse. Bran and the others all sat up, at full attention now.

  “Hey,” she said quietly. “They’ll be in the woods by the tunnel hill, between the South and East tunnels in about twenty minutes. I’m at Rack ’Em. Swing by and pick me up. I’ll wait for you out back. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure no one sees me.”

  “I’ll be there,” Rick told her. He ended the call and stood. “All right boys,” he said. “We’re going to war.”

  

  Raphael knew something was wrong the minute the rose-colored stone came into view. Someone had dug it out of the ground and it sat a few yards away, the silver divining rod still protruding from it. A yellow backhoe was parked nearby, next to a massive mound of dirt.

  “Aw, man. You think somebody got the treasure already?” Benji asked.

  Raphael moved forward cautiously. “There’s only one way to find out,” he said.

  He stopped at the edge of the hole and the other Flatliners gathered around it with him, shining their flashlight beams down into a pit so deep they couldn’t see the bottom. The Flatliners could have toiled all night with their shovels and they wouldn’t have made this much headway. He had a sinking feeling in his gut. If the Snakes already had the treasure in their possession that meant the Flatliners would have to take it from them. He looked at Nass, the question in his eyes.

  “No, man—it’s still here,” Nass said as if he’d asked it aloud. Raphael scanned the woods again. No one was around but them. Whoever was digging here must have given up. Either that, or it was a trap.

  Raphael looked at his comrades. “Benji, Beet, Josh, Emory,” he said. “You guys keep watch in a twenty-yard perimeter around the pit. You see anyone, shout—but until then stay quiet, okay? We don’t want anyone to know we’re here if we can help it. Nass, grab the rope and help me tie it to that tree. You’re going to spot me as I go down.”

  But Nass was shaking his head.

  “What?” Raphael asked, slightly annoyed that his second-in-command was questioning his orders.

  “If the Obies show up, it’s going to get crazy,” Nass told him. “You’re the only one who might be able to fight them. If you’re down in the hole, we don’t stand a chance up here. Why don’t I go down instead?”

  That’s what made Nass such a good lieutenant, Raph realized. He was always thinking.

  “Right. Okay, you guys—hit the perimeter. Nass, you’re going down.”

  The four sentries all strode outward from the pit and took their places, staring out into the forest, while Raphael and Nass tied the rope around the trunk of a stout maple tree. Rather than taking the end of it straight toward the pit, though, Raph headed for a smooth-barked birch tree that stood a few yards from the maple and passed the rope around it before helping Nass tie the end around his waist.

  “Why’d you do that?” Nass asked.

  “It’ll act as a pulley,” Raph said. “That way, lowering you down and pulling you up, I’m not taking your whole weight.”

  Nass gave Raph a thumbs-up. “Cool,” he said.

  Raphael took hold of the slack rope between the maple and the birch and pulled it taut. “Okay—now lean back slowly. Good.”

  Raphael started lowering Nass into the pit, deeper and deeper. Over and over he thought Nass had to be close to the bottom, but he was still feeding out rope. Finally, when Raph’s arms were aching and his hands stinging, the rope suddenly went slack.

  “Okay, I’m here,” Nass shouted, only his voice was so distant it sounded like it was coming from another galaxy.

  

  Dalton stared at the nachos on the table in front of her, but she couldn’t eat a thing.

  “So what are we doing?” Natalie asked. “Just sitting around here and waiting for them to get back from their stupid treasure hunt?”

  Dalton was sitting with Natalie, Myka and Beth in a back booth at Rack ’Em. “That’s what I’m doing,” she said. Clarisse came in then and waved at them on her way to the ladies room. All the girls at Dalton’s table exchanged looks. None of them really liked Clarisse, for Dalton’s sake, but they tolerated her for Ignacio’s.

  “How can you sit there so calmly while she’s walking around breathing air?” asked Natalie resentfully.

  “Believe me, it’s not easy,” Dalton said. “But anything else I do would only make it worse. Maybe she’ll go back to Los Angeles soon—and stay there.”

  Clarisse came out a few minutes later, her hair neatly brushed and a fresh layer of gloss on her lips. Zipping up her jacket, she ambled over to their table. “Evening, ladies,” she said with insincere, sugary sweetness.

  “Hey,” was the halfhearted response from Dalton and Beth. Myka and Natalie gave her the silent treatment.

  “Well, okay then,” Clarisse quipped. “I guess I won’t be breaking any hearts if I blow this joint, right?”

  When none of them replied to that, she snorted her cynical little laugh and walked away, heading for the back door. Dalton thought that was unusual. If she was going back to Nass’s apartment, all she had to do was go out the front door, turn left, and walk a couple of blocks.

  “What’s wrong with this picture?” she wondered aloud.

  “Huh?” Natalie said.

  “Never mind.” Dalton got up, went to the window, and eased the blinds a little to the side—just in time to see Clarisse getting into Rick Banfield’s SUV.

  “Oh, no she didn’t!” she exclaimed.

  “What is it?” asked Myka.

  “I don’t know—but it’s not good. Natalie—you got your cell?”

  “Yeah. Right here.”

  “Okay—come with me. We’ve got to find Nass and Raph and the guys.” A simple gut feeling told her she would find them faster if they followed Rick and Clarisse. They climbed in Lily Rose’s old Woody and before they headed out, Dalton used Natalie’s phone to try Aimee again, on the outside chance she would know what her brother was up to. It went straight to voicemail. She’d been trying to reach Aimee since their unfinished conversation about Orias kissing her, but Aimee hadn’t answered or returned her calls.

  

  “It’s time,” said Orias.

  “I’m ready.” Aimee was awake now, and incredibly refreshed. The amazing night she had spent with Orias, traveling through space and time, had awakened within her a world of new possibilities.

  With each slip, she got stronger, more focused, and better able to control it; and although Orias stayed beside her, he touched her less and less, letting her find the triggers within herself. By the time they returned to Middleburg, shortly before dawn, he wasn’t touching her at all. He’d last held her hand as they’d settled softly on the thick Persian carpet in his parlor.

  He’d prepared a sandwich and some kind of fruit cup for her, and after she ate she had fallen, exhausted, into a deep sleep on his antique Victorian sofa. She had slept all day. She wondered vaguely if anyone had missed her at school and if her dad had even noticed she was gone, but those thoughts slipped away as fast as they had come. In one night, she’d seen so much. Everything from her old life seemed trivial.

  Now it was night again. Time to do Orias’s little errand. And then he would show her how to use the Wheel to slip backward, into the past, and find her mother.

  She was wearing the same clothes she’d worn to dinner with Orias and her father just last night (it seemed so long ago), and Orias was buttoning her coat. A sudden recollection of how he’d helped her get ready for that bizarre party in Manhattan, his fingers curled in her hair, and how he’d knelt before her and painted her toenails, filled her with a warm rush that made her a little dizzy. She reached out to him.

  “Steady, now,” he said. “Not yet.”

  She moved to the window and looked out on the street, feeling suddenly shy with him. There was something else bothering her, t
oo, but she couldn’t quite remember what it was. Her thoughts felt pleasantly soft but tangled, like a jumbled ball of yarn. Since the past seemed to be eluding her, she decided to focus on the journey ahead.

  “What if someone sees us?” she asked. “I mean, it didn’t matter in New York or those other places where no one knows us but here in Middleburg—I don’t think we want people to see us appearing or vanishing right in front of them.”

  Orias’s laugh was short, cynical. “They’ll assume their eyes are playing tricks on them, or think they must’ve looked away just as we left or arrived. They will assume any number of things—but not that we are travelers, dropping through the fabric of materiality. Never underestimate a human being’s ability to turn the incredible into the ordinary, Aimee. Humans witness miracles every day—and then proceed immediately to explain them away. But not you—not anymore. You are becoming one of the enlightened ones. It will change you . . . forever.”

  It already has, she thought. I’m stronger, calmer, more peaceful now, more . . . in tune with things. And she suddenly knew: she was ready. Ready to do Orias’s errand, ready to find her mother.

  “Let’s do it,” she said.

  He smiled and looked at her with that same longing she’d come to recognize and respond to, but he still didn’t touch her.

  “Okay,” he said and she basked in the approval she saw in his eyes. “You know the mountain the tunnels run through?”

  Aimee nodded.

  “There’s a beautiful clearing at its peak,” he said. “Close your eyes and picture it. It’s completely silent now, washed in moonlight, covered in snow. Can you see it?” She nodded and he went on. “At the center of that clearing there’s a smooth, flat slab of rose-colored stone. There’s no snow on it; it’s the only thing up there that’s bare. I want you to take us there.”

  She looked up at him. “And then you’ll tell me what it is I’m supposed to get for you?”

  “You’ll know soon enough,” he said patiently. “Now, close your eyes. When you feel it, take us there.”