Morpheus Road 03 - The Blood

by D. J. MacHale

  "Marsh? You out there?"

  Marsh froze. His throat clutched. Someone was in the house.

  "Marsh?"

  His panic lasted no more than three seconds because he recognized the voice. His father was calling from the kitchen.

  "Dad? You home already? That was fast."

  Michael called back, "C'mon! Dinner's ready. GTH in here!"

  Dinner? It was way too early for dinner. Marsh started walking toward the kitchen, when he heard someone running down the stairs from the second floor. He shot a surprised look up to see . . .

  Himself. Marsh himself came running down the stairs.

  But it was a young Marsh, who looked no more than ten years old.

  "Coming!" Young Marsh called.

  Marsh's mind locked. He was looking at a young version of himself wearing jeans, PRO-Keds, and a Boba Fett T-shirt . . . all clothes that he remembered well.

  "Who are you?" Marsh managed to say with a gasp.

  The kid didn't acknowledge him. Or even hear him. It was like Marsh wasn't even there, which made him wonder which Marsh was real . . . him, or the specter from the past.

  Another voice called from the kitchen. A woman's voice. One that made Marsh's heart ache.

  "C'mon! Dinner's getting cold!" she called. Not an unusual warning, except that the voice belonged to his mother.

  "On my way!" Young Marsh called back as he hit the ground floor and sprinted toward the kitchen. He galloped through the dining room and disappeared through the swinging door, just as he had done thousands of times before.

  Marsh fought to stay in control. He knew what was happening. It was Damon. It had to be. When he was haunted by Gravedigger, Marsh thought he was going out of his mind. Now he knew better. Damon was capable of creating visions to mess with his head. He had to hold on to the fact that they were nothing more than shadows. Illusions. The only way they could hurt him was if he let them, and he had grown too strong for that. After what he'd already seen, there was nothing that Damon could show him that would do any real damage.

  With that in mind, Marsh got his feet moving and walked toward the kitchen.

  As he drew closer to the swinging door, he heard the familiar sounds of a family sitting down to dinner. There was the clatter of serving bowls, the metallic chirp of silverware being placed, the scrape of chairs across a tiled floor. The voices were muffled, though Marsh could make out every word.

  "Eat fast," his dad said. "Yanks and Sox on tonight."

  "Excellent!" Young Marsh replied.

  "Homework first," his mom cautioned.

  "Aww, Mom!" Marsh complained.

  "Yeah. 'Aww, Mom,"' Dad echoed.

  "Don't 'Aww, Mom' me!" Terri said with a laugh. "Either of you."

  All three laughed.

  Marsh felt tears growing. Nothing about what he was hearing was horrifying, other than it was a painful reminder of a happier life that would never again be. It was one of Damon's more cruel illusions, but it didn't stop Marsh from wanting to see the scene and experience it once again, even though he knew it wasn't real.

  "Wait," Terri called. "Do you hear that?"

  "Hear what?" Young Marsh asked.

  "Is somebody in the house?" Terri asked, concerned.

  "I heard it too," Marsh's dad said. "It sounds like someone is in the dining room."

  Marsh picked up the pace.

  "It's okay. It's me!" he called out. "It's Marsh!"

  He put his hand on the door and was about to push it open, when he heard a terrified scream come from his mother.

  "Mom!" Marsh called out. "It's just me!"

  Marsh pushed open the door and stepped into a gut-wrenching scene . . . that had nothing to do with dinner.

  His dad and Young Marsh stood by the sink, staring up at his mother . . . who hung from the neck by a noose that was looped over the ceiling fan. The grisly sight made Marsh take a step away in horror, hitting his back against the kitchen door. He could hear the gentle creak of the rope as her body swung, lifeless, over the kitchen table. He couldn't take his eyes off it, until the face of his mother twisted toward him, and he saw her bulging, lifeless eyes.

  "It's up to you, Marsh," his father said.

  At first he thought the illusion of his dad was talking to Young Marsh, but when he looked to the man, he saw that he was focused on him.

  Young Marsh looked to him as well and added, "You can save her, just like Cooper told you."

  "Wha—?" Marsh mumbled. "Cooper didn't say anything."

  "He didn't?" Michael said with surprise. "What was that kid thinking? Holding that information from you? Typical."

  "I wonder why he didn't tell you?" Young Marsh asked. Marsh summoned his courage, trying desperately to stay connected with sanity.

  "Get out!" he shouted, then looked around the room, hoping to see Damon. Or Gravedigger. Or anyone else that would prove he was seeing an illusion.

  "Get them out of here!" Marsh screamed.

  "But this is our house too," Young Marsh argued.

  "No, it isn't! You aren't real," Marsh screamed, and stormed toward them.

  His father shrugged, then he and Young Marsh disappeared.

  Marsh turned quickly to see if the illusion of his hanging mother was gone. It wasn't. He took a step toward the grisly illusion, but rather than disappearing, the rope snapped and the body fell, hitting the kitchen table with a sickening thud while scattering bowls and plates that smashed to the floor.

  The horrific sight revolted Marsh, making him back away. The body of his mother rolled off the table, hit a chair, and then thumped down onto the kitchen floor. When it landed, her head faced Marsh, though twisted backward on her body as if she were looking over her own shoulder.

  "Save me, Marsh," his mother said.

  Marsh screamed.

  It was all his shattered mind could manage.

  8

  "Ralph! Whoa, what happened?"

  Cooper stepped into the Light to find Marshall sitting on the floor of his kitchen, shaking. The illusion of his hanged mother was gone. There were no shattered plates or frayed ropes, though Marsh continued to stare at the spot where the illusion had been.

  "Ralph!" Coop yelled, leaning down to his friend.

  Marsh finally looked away, returning to the moment, and reality. He looked up at Cooper, at first not registering who it was.

  "What do you see?" Coop asked, agitated.

  "I, uh, nothing."

  "You're on the floor shaking and staring like a zombie because of nothing?" Coop asked with skepticism.

  Marsh shrugged. "It's been a rough day."

  "Where's Sydney?" Coop asked.

  "Not here." He stood up and went to the sink to get a glass of water to help calm himself.

  "Wha—? You guys are supposed to stay together."

  "We had a fight," Marsh explained with no emotion. "She thinks it was my fault that Ennis died."

  "Well, that's just stupid," Coop said, scoffing. "How could you know Damon was going to get to him?"

  Marsh took a sip of water and said, "She's right."

  "Uh . . . what?"

  "Ennis was on the edge. When we talked about the Black, his whole attitude changed. He saw it as a way out. And I saw it as a way to help my mother. I'm not gonna lie."

  "But it's not like you pushed him out of that window," Coop offered.

  "No, but I might as well have. We could have stayed with him. Now he's dead."

  Coop watched his friend with concern, trying to read his thoughts. "You're sounding a little nutty, Ralph."

  "I'm fine," Marsh said with no emotion.

  "You don't sound fine. I mean, you just admitted to letting Ennis die so he could help us in the Black. That doesn't sound like you."

  Marsh shrugged. "None of us are the same anymore. Except for you, Coop. Even in death you've stayed the same. You still get what you want, no matter what you have to do to get it."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "What did
Damon say about my mother?"

  Coop stiffened. "What do you mean?" he asked evasively.

  "Don't make it worse," Marsh said coldly.

  "Why do you ask? Was he here?"

  "You could say that. Stop ducking. What were you supposed to tell me about my mother?"

  "I don't know what you mean."

  "No? You weren't supposed to tell me that I could save her?"

  Coop shook his head, buying time, looking for the right words.

  "Do not lie to me," Marsh said through clenched teeth.

  "All right!" Coop blurted out. "He made a threat. He's always making threats. Who knows if he was serious?"

  "You do, Coop. Or else you would have told me."

  "Yeah, well, maybe that's why I came right back."

  "Is it?" Marsh asked. "Do not lie to me."

  Coop wasn't used to being backed into a corner, especially by Marsh. He started to argue, but thought better of it.

  "No," he admitted. "I'm back because something felt off between you and Sydney."

  "Maybe we're all keeping secrets," Marsh replied.

  "C'mon!" Coop complained. "What would you have done if I'd told you? You don't know where the poleax is any more than I do."

  "But I deserve to know the truth so I can make my own choices." He was shaking again but not from fear. Marsh was furious. "We're talking about my mother here."

  "Okay, fine," Coop shot back. "Suppose you knew where the poleax was? What would you do then? Huh? Marsh, your mom means a lot to me too. In life and in death. I fought beside her to stop Damon. I know what's important to her, and I guarantee she wouldn't want you to give him the poleax."

  "So then I should just let him destroy her?" Marsh asked.

  "It's not like you have a choice," Coop replied.

  Marsh winced.

  "I'm sorry," Coop added sincerely. "That was cold. You're right, I should have told you."

  Marsh glanced to the kitchen table. The same table where he had seen the vision of his mother hanging from a rope.

  "And this time she'll be gone forever," Marsh whispered.

  "That's not a guarantee," Coop offered. "I'll find her. I got the others away from Damon, and I can do the same for her."

  "No," Marsh said quickly.

  "No?"

  "It may already be too late," Marsh said. "But it's not too late for Sydney."

  "What do you mean?"

  "You were right. Something's going on with us. She was so angry with me for what happened to Ennis that she took off . . . without the crucible. Damon could be going after her right now. If I were you, I'd go find her."

  Coop stiffened. "If you were me, you wouldn't have let her go in the first place."

  Marsh took a threatening step toward Cooper. "You're the last person who should be passing judgment."

  Coop stood his ground, and the two friends stood eye to eye, neither backing down.

  "Where did she go?" Coop finally asked.

  "She has a class at the junior high this afternoon."

  "She's going to teach a class after a day like this?" Coop asked, incredulous.

  Marsh shrugged. "She's probably still on the road somewhere."

  "You shouldn't have let her go," Coop said.

  "And you should have told me about my mother."

  Coop was off balance. He didn't like the guy that Marsh had become. His naïveté was slowly being replaced by cold calculation. And something was off. He wasn't telling Coop everything, and Coop knew it. His friend wasn't a good liar. He hadn't had enough practice. Coop knew he would have to mend fences with his friend, but first he had to make sure that Sydney was safe.

  "I'll be right back," Coop said.

  "Good luck."

  Marsh's words hung there, having been delivered with an obvious lack of sincerity.

  Coop hesitated, unsure if he was making the right move, but he saw no other choice and stepped out of Marsh's kitchen to begin the search for his sister.

  As soon as he disappeared, Marsh ran for the door. He knew he wouldn't have much time, so he had to act fast. He ran straight for the garage. The place hadn't been organized in years and was full of so much junk that there was no room for the car. Marsh wasn't entirely sure what he was looking for, only that he would know it when he found it. He grabbed a hammer off the cluttered tool bench, felt its weight, then tossed it back down. He found a garden spade with a long wooden handle. It hadn't been used to turn up soil in ages. Marsh didn't even bother to pick it up. He dug through the shelf beneath the tool bench, where he pushed past clippers, tangled snow chains, a rusted hand drill, and some cracked flower pots.

  Finally he pushed aside a half-empty plastic bag of topsoil and found his prize. It was a black metal crowbar with a hook and claw on either end. He lifted the tool and tested its strength. It was solid. It was heavy.

  It was exactly what he needed.

  Coop took the most direct route to Stony Brook Junior High. Rather than simply disappearing from Marsh's house and reappearing at the school, he expected to find Sydney on the road, so he floated above the traffic, scanning the cars, watching out for her silver Beetle. Being a ghost had its perks. He wished he could have enjoyed using them a little more.

  It was rush hour, so the traffic was heavy. He had to be careful not to miss the car. Every second counted. There was no telling what Damon might do to put her in danger again. It was an uneasy trip, not only because he was worried about his sister, but because of Marsh's behavior. Yes, his friend had been through a lot, but it was hard to believe that he would have let Sydney go unprotected even if they had had a fight. Sydney was tough to deal with, he knew, but Marsh cared about her. It didn't add up.

  Her car was nowhere to be seen. Afraid that he might have missed it, he quickly took another route back toward their house but came up empty again. He took a third route back to the school and decided that she must have gotten there faster than he thought. He scanned the parking lot but didn't see her car. Something was definitely wrong. He floated into the school and went right to the classroom where she had been tutoring algebra.

  It was empty. Most of the classrooms were empty. Only two classes were in session, and both of those were in the wood shop. Sydney was definitely not there. So then, where was she? Cooper chose to go to the most obvious place. Home. He didn't bother to track the car route. He wanted to get there as quickly as possible, so he imagined himself to be home, and two seconds later he was.

  Sydney's car was in the driveway. His parents' car wasn't. That was bad news. It meant Sydney was alone. Coop didn't hesitate to swoop into the house, fearing that he would find Sydney battling one of Damon's visions.

  What he found instead was his sister sitting on the couch, crying.

  "Hey! You okay?" he shouted.

  Sydney screamed and jumped up to run away from him.

  "Whoa, whoa, it's me!" Coop assured her.

  Sydney shot a frightened glance over her shoulder, recognized her brother, and relaxed.

  "What is wrong with you?" she snarled.

  "Hey, I'm a ghost. What do you expect? Are you all right?"

  Sydney collected herself and sat back down. "Aside from the near heart attack, yes."

  "Nothing spooky happened since you left Marsh?"

  "Only you popping in."

  Coop finally relaxed.

  "So . . . you and Marsh had a fight?" Coop asked tentatively.

  Sydney nodded. "I know what's at stake here," she said thoughtfully. "I'm just not willing to give up on my humanity to deal with it."

  "He didn't kill Ennis," Coop said.

  "He didn't try to save him either. And you know what? Neither did I. What does that say about me?"

  "It makes us normal people trying to deal with really abnormal challenges."

  Sydney looked up at her brother and gave him a small smile. "That was surprisingly eloquent."

  "I have my moments. Why didn't you go to school?"

  "I don't have classes today."
>
  "But . . . you told Marsh you were going there."

  "No, I didn't."

  "He said you did."

  "Why would he lie?"

  Coop frowned, and paced. "Something's wrong."

  "Gee, you think?"

  "I mean he's keeping something from me. I think Damon paid him a visit. It twisted his head around and—"

  "That's impossible," Sydney interrupted.

  "Do you seriously think anything is impossible anymore?" Coop asked.

  "In this case, yes. Damon couldn't have gotten to him."

  "Why not?"

  "Because the crucible would have kept Damon away."

  Coop's eyes went wide as the realization hit him. "Jeez, you're right. Could that be why he was all shaky? Because the crucibles don't stop Damon anymore?"

  "Maybe," Sydney said, thinking back. "Or maybe— Oh my god."

  She leaped off the couch and ran across the room to get her shoulder bag. She grabbed it, jammed her hand inside . . . and pulled out the golden crucible.

  "We were standing close together in the front yard," Sydney said, thinking back. "He must have slipped it in then."

  The two stared at the round orb for a few moments, trying to understand the implications.

  Finally Coop said, "I don't know if I should be relieved or horrified."

  "Because Damon could go after him again?"

  "No. Because I'm afraid he may not be as concerned about losing his humanity as you are."

  9

  Marsh had called for a cab. Ordinarily he would have taken his bike, but he knew he wouldn't have much time and he didn't want Cooper to track him down. Getting away from the house quickly was critical. Once gone, he felt certain that he was headed to the last place anybody would expect him to go. Even Cooper. Especially Cooper. Still, he had to be certain so he wanted to get there as quickly as possible.