One Last Time

by Denise Daisy

  Seedy grins and begins dragging Pearl into the tunnel. With every last bit of effort, I thrust my body against the shelves. Slimy kicks me hard, sweeping my legs out from under me before dragging me inside the secret passage and closing the door behind us. It’s dark except for the dim glow of Seedy’s lantern. I want to scream, hoping Quillan or Mike or someone might hear, but he keeps his hand pressed hard against my mouth as he drags me along. The root cellar sits far back on the property, nearly a hundred yards away from the house, so the farther we go down the deep tunnel, the more my chance of escape fades.

  Seedy kicks open the secret door to the cellar, drags Pearl inside, and ties her up. Slimy throws me inside, knocking me up against the cold stone wall. It hurts, but instead of giving into the pain, I scan the room for something I can use as a weapon. Slimy’s fast, though, and removes a coil of rope dangling from the ceiling and heads toward me. Grabbing a jar of peach preserves, I smash it against his forehead, stunning him and knocking him backward.

  “Damn you!” he growls as blood pours into his eyes. I lunge for the door but Seedy leaves Pearl and goes for me, catching me by my hair. “You ain’t goin’ anywhere,” he growls, pinning my arms behind me. I kick and fight with every bit of strength I have, but the rough rope around my wrist steals my hope. He cinches the knot, pushes me to the floor, and binds my ankles before he finishes up on Pearl. She’s lying still and lifeless without fighting back. She might have a concussion. Slimy squats down in front of me and strokes the side of my face. I turn away, but he forces my face back to him. He traces his finger down my neck and stops at my cherished locket. “I’ll be taking this along with all the other jewelry we find in the house.” He breaks the chain off my neck. I hate him more than ever now, so I thrust my bound ankles forward, kicking him in the groin. His hand comes down hard across my face, splitting my lip. I’ve never been slapped before, and it hurts like hell. He pulls my face toward him and kisses me, filling my mouth with his alcohol-laden breath. I cough and he laughs before pulling a nasty handkerchief from his filthy pants and shoving it in my mouth. My eyes water at the taste. I want to cry.

  A third man enters the root cellar by way of the secret passage. “Jimmy’s searching the third floor. He’s got a pretty big stash already. I’m headin’ up there to help him. You two got the second floor?”

  Slimy mops up more blood from his forehead with the back of his sleeve. “We’re headin’ that way. Got slowed down a little, but we’re good now. Tell him to bring the goods down here. Steal everything you can, and around midnight when they’re drunk, we’ll go in and kill the lot of ’em. ’Cept for the redhead girl. I want her, too.”

  The man nods and takes off down the tunnel. Slimy checks my ropes once more before leaving, pulling them tighter. “Now, don’t go anywhere.” He smirks. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  He takes the light, leaving us in total darkness.

  Chapter 38

  The legend of the Faulkner Estate Massacre is right on schedule, and I wonder if mankind has the power to change history. Momma said there is a time to live and a time to die. Maybe we can’t beat death. As much as I wanted her to live and come back home, the winds and the water took her from me. I had no control in the matter. As much as I want Lunar, Emily, and Quillan to live, Slimy and his three cohorts escaped and will pull off their wicked conspiracy, blame the Wilson boys, and live in wealth the remainder of their days.

  I’m terrified, sitting here in the dark, wondering what will become of us all. No one would ever think of looking in the root cellar. We’re as good as dead. Momma also said to never give up without a fight, but my ropes are tight, and I can barely twist my wrist to loosen them. I lean my head against the wall and try spitting out my gag. He shoved it in far and the more I try, the more it lodges farther back in my throat. Now I know why they’re called gags. My eyes water, and I want to puke.

  The root cellar is well built, leaving no cracks in the outside wall so the moonlight cannot filter in. I can hear Pearl’s steady breathing, so I know she is still alive. I’m uncomfortable, and my legs are going numb from the lack of circulation. Scooting over a smidge, I discover the slick fruit and the thick syrup from the jar of peaches I broke earlier. I have an idea. I wiggle my fingers, searching for a shard of broken glass. Unfortunately, the tip of my finger finds it first, bringing instant pain. Good, it’s sharp. It will do.

  Carefully, I pick up the glass, once again poking the inside of my fingers, wincing at the discomfort. Taking a deep breath, I concentrate, hoping to slice the ropes and not my wrist. I’m cutting pretty good when I hear footsteps closing in behind the secret door. I stop my work, careful not to drop my piece of glass. I don’t want to pick it up again. The door bursts open and the fourth man, the one the other bastards referred to as Jimmy, enters with several bags of loot. His lantern shatters the darkness. He stashes the stolen property in the back corner. I look over at Pearl and her eyes are closed. Jimmy makes his way over to me, grinning with an evil sneer. “Frank told me to check on you, make sure your stayin’ put and all.” My heart crashes as he leans me forward and discovers my carving tool. “What do we have here?” he asks, peeling it out of my hands. I don’t care, let him take it, there’s plenty of glass jars in this cellar. I’ll break every one of them if I have to. “Didn’t Frank tell you to sit still and wait?” He drops the glass on the floor. He searches the room, and I hold my breath. I hope he’s too dumb to realize I can do it again, but unfortunately, he’s not. His knobby fingers wrap around my arms before he pulls me back, dragging me far away from the broken glass and depositing me with the rest of their plunder. I would fight, but I’m numb and can’t feel my limbs very well. “There’s no way you’re getting away now.” He takes the rest of the rope and secures me to one of the pillars bracing the roof.

  Taking the light, he slips out the secret door back to the big house. I try to move, but he’s secured me so tight I can barely inhale. I’m not sure of the time. I’m certain it’s been nearly two hours since I found Pearl in the pantry. That makes it around ten o’clock. Two hours until doomsday. I’m wondering what else the men have done, other than robbing the Faulkner’s blind while they entertain downstairs, oblivious to what’s going on in the rest of their house. Has Lunar been hung yet? Does Emily know? If so, has she hung herself, too? Maybe everything has already transpired and Quillan has disappeared, as well.

  My ears pick up on a quiet scuffling, and I pray rats aren’t down here. Maybe the sweet nectar from the peaches has attracted them. Hopefully, they will stay over there and leave me alone.

  A small gust of air blows across the floor as the secret door opens. From where I am sitting, I am blocked from seeing who enters this time. The only thing I can see is the faint glow of light they carry.

  “Averie?” Quillan whispers from the darkness. My heart escalates, thundering in rapture. He sees Pearl and makes his way over to her, checking the pulse in her neck. I’m in the far back corner, hidden in darkness, and this damn hankie in my mouth won’t let me call out for help, so I shake my pillar as best I can without cutting myself in two.

  “Quillan,” I say, as loud as I can against the dirty cloth. He hears my muffled call and bolts over to me, pulling the nasty rag from my mouth. I take in a big gulp of air.

  “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Even though his voice is laced with relief, I see the concern on his face. “Who did this?”

  “The men from Georgia are in the house,” I warn him. “They’re using the secret passages and robbing the Faulkners. They plan on killing everyone at midnight. Quillan we haven’t changed anything yet.”

  “Did they hurt you?”

  “Yes, he did. The bastard kissed me and stole my locket.”

  “Then I will replace both of them.” He leans over, canceling out Slimy’s putrid peck with his rapturous caress of my lips. If I die right here, right now, I’m okay with it. Cupping my face in his hand, he smiles and kisses me aga
in before untying my feet and loosening the rope that holds me to the pillar. He begins working on my wrist, but it takes longer since Slimy double tied it. The sound of approaching footsteps close in, and I warn him the men have been coming in periodically to stash their goods. Lifting his lantern, Quillan scans the room, lighting high up on the walls until he spots what he’s looking for. Reaching up he retrieves a harvesting sickle hanging near the ceiling.

  The door pushes open and Quillan eases behind it. The third man who’d come in earlier giving Slimy a report walks over my way and unloads several more bags. Giving me a curious look, he leans in close. “Spit your gag out, did you?” He searches around for the nasty rag. There is a swish of air and a spray of blood, and then his head rolls across the dirt floor. My hands are still tied; otherwise I would cover my eyes, shielding myself from the gore.

  Not wasting a minute, Quillan tries untying me again. “Emily never showed up for dinner.” My heart sinks, and I fear the worst.

  With one last yank, he tosses aside the rope, freeing me from the cursed pole. “I’m going back inside to look for her. I want you to go and wait by the pond. You will be safe in the garden.”

  “No! I’m going with you!” There goes the damn ventriloquist again

  “Averie, no!” he objects. “I don’t want you to die tonight. It’s not your fight.”

  “It is now,” I say. “He stole my locket, and I want it back.” Not giving a chance for Quillan’s rebuttal, I grab the lamp and slip into the tunnel.

  “I’m going first.” He takes my hand and leads the way.

  “What about Pearl?” I whisper.

  “She’ll be fine,” he assures me. “We’ll come back for her.”

  “Where’s Mike?” I leave no stone unturned.

  “Looking for you. We’ve been searching everywhere. I decided to check the pantry when Elizabeth told me she sent you after Pearl nearly two hours ago. Then, I remembered Mike saying he escaped that night through a tunnel in the pantry, so I found the secret passage and followed it.”

  We are entering the part of the tunnel that leads inside the house when we see a shadow on the wall ready to make the corner. I gasp and Quillan pulls us through the nearest door, depositing us into the conservatory. The room is dark except for a candelabrum, glowing on the piano and reflecting in the giant mirrors adorning the walls.

  “This way.” Quillan leads me across the room and stops at the main entrance leading into the hallway. “Since they are using the secret passageways, we’re safer using the corridors in the house.”

  I nod in agreement, and we slip into the dark hallway heading for the staircase at the end. Quillan holds my hand tight as we slink up the steps two at a time, anxious to find Emily. We step onto the second floor and maneuver down the first hallway, walking only as fast as our lamp is able to light our path. We reach the end and turn into the second corridor. God, this house is big. How many rooms does a family of three need? Fortunately, this hallway is lit, seeing it’s used far more than the others, so we sprint, stopping right outside Emily’s bedroom door.

  Quillan gently pushes me behind him. “I’ll check it out first.” He turns the handle, quietly opening the door and peeks inside. He slowly sneaks in, keeping flat against the wall. My heart is racing again, releasing more adrenaline. I think I’ve pretty much overdosed on the stuff this month. I wait until his arm reaches for me, and then I join him in Miss Emily’s bedchamber. It’s the same as when I left it three hours ago. The room is vast so we steal around, checking in her dressing room and any other possible corners Slimy could have her hidden. It’s empty.

  “We should check the cupola,” I say, not wanting to admit it’s where she would be if Lunar has already been hung. Quillan turns somber, but agrees. We make our way back to the staircase and head up to the third floor. I dread going up here. Slimy and his men are ransacking these rooms, so it will be like making our way across a minefield. Tiptoeing down the dark corridor, we make our way halfway down, stopping at the spiral staircase leading up to the cupola. An eerie glow and a scant scuffle confirm our greatest fears. Someone is up there.

  “Stay here,” he orders, and by the look in his eyes, I know not to challenge him this time.

  Holding my breath, I take the lantern and watch him ascend the stairs until his shoes disappear from view. I’ve prayed my entire life, mainly before meals, it was Momma’s rule, and always before bed. It was usually nothing more than a sweet ritual for me, like washing my hands and brushing my teeth. The day I sat outside my dad’s office, rejected for the second time, I prayed and asked, since he called himself Father, if he would be mine because the man he assigned me wasn’t worth shit. I prayed again, after the hurricane hit Florida that I would hear from Momma. I never did. I’ve been disappointed more than surprised when it comes to praying, so I don’t know why I am offering up any kind of supplication now, but I am. Maybe it’s because Quillan told me he was sent from Heaven or somewhere transcendent, so I figure if any of them are watching, we could use some help about now. The truth of the matter is, I don’t want Emily to die. I want her to live and have children, mainly Quillan, and live a long, happy life and die an old woman surrounded by grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and a horde of memories.

  Quillan’s voice interrupts my thoughts, only he’s not down here talking to me. He’s up there still. The sound of glass breaking startles me, and the scuffle gets louder. I am ready to bolt up the steps when I hear Quillan yell for Emily to run. Within seconds, I see the hem of her purple skirt rounding the spiral steps. She reaches the bottom and sees me. Peace floods her face when she does. “Oh, Averie, they’re back!”

  “I know.” I grab her hand. Glass shatters again, and I hear Quillan yelling for me to run. His words have no more reached my ears when I see dirty boots coming down the stairs. Pulling Emily, I start bolting down the hallway looking for a place to hide. Room twenty-three is the first one we come to, so I burst through the door praying no one is in there. It’s dark and has already been stripped of artwork, vases, and any decorative piece that would bring a nice profit. We both scan the room, looking for a place to hide. Emily points to the bookcase and I know she wants to escape through the secret passageway, but it’s not so secret now.

  “They are using it,” I whisper back.

  The door handle is turning, and the only thing I can think is to get behind it. We can hide there and make our escape once he comes in the room. I pull her against the wall, and we hold our breath as he creeps inside.

  “In the dead of night, I saw the light…” he taunts us, singing the haunting song. “Shining in the shallow water. A princess fair with crimson hair, hiding in the house of her father.” He laughs a maniacal laugh as he lurks inside the room. “Where are you, Princess?” he beckons. I can feel Emily trembling at his call. I wait until he stoops down to look under her highly elevated bed before I pull her out the door. We take to the hallways again, running like banshees, looking for the next place to hide. Hearing him behind us, we dart inside another room and slide the bolt lock in place to buy some time. I turn up my lantern and am shocked to see we are inside a nursery, complete with cradle, crib, and a beautiful hand-carved rocking chair.

  “My room when I was born,” she explains, pointing to a big toy box filled with teddy bears, dolls, and other cherished playthings, now preserved for posterity sake. “Over there.”

  Slimy crashes up against the door, quickening our escape. Emily crouches down and sifts through the toys, rummaging her hand deep inside the box. Her face shows relief, and I figure she has found what she is searching for.

  Bam! Slimy hits the door again and the wood splinters. “Hurry.” I pant in desperation. She pulls a small lever at the bottom of the box and then puts the toys back in place. Tugging at the treasure chest, she grunts until the box pulls forward. There is no entrance to a secret passage, only a small safe room of sorts. Perfect, unless Slimy discovers it, too. We jump inside and pull the wall
closed behind us. Emily slides the lock in place as we hear the door to the room burst open. We huddle in the corner, holding our breath.

  “I know you’re in here,” Slimy taunts, and then begins singing the sinister song again. We trace his path by the sound of his dirty boots scuffing around the room and freeze when he stops at the toy chest. He rummages through the box and then stops. It stays quiet for a few moments before we hear his boots clomp away, sounding as if he left the room.

  “Let’s wait a little longer before we leave,” I suggest, not putting it past him to be lurking in the hall waiting for us to emerge.

  “Only for a while.” Emily’s concern is on the rise. “They took Lunar and said they were going to hang him.”

  I pale at her words. “When?”

  “He and I were in a room up here when they burst in and found us. They beat Lunar pretty bad, and then drug him away to hang him. After that, two of them took me up to the cupola to watch. That’s when Quillan showed up. He started fighting them and yelled for you to run right before he and one of them fell through the window.”

  My heart falters. The cupola sits higher than the third floor. It would be hard to survive a fall from that height. Still, if I save Emily, I save Quillan.

  “They’re robbing you, Emily. I overheard them say they’re planning on killing everyone around midnight and pinning it on Jeb and the boys.”

  Emily’s spirit fades. “If they kill my family and hang Lunar, I might as well die.”

  I grab her shoulders and pull her close to me. “You can’t die Emily Faulkner, you hear me? No matter what, you are carrying a life inside you, and your son wants to live! I’m not giving up, so don’t you either. If I die tonight, then I die fighting.”

  Tears stream down her face, and she nods.

  “All right,” I say. “Let’s go. We can’t sit here and hide. We have to save Lunar.”