“Did they find him?”
“No,” Isabella said quietly. “Javier and I handed him over to the Church. He was one of theirs. They could look after him.”
“They never forgave you?” I asked.
Isabella looked at me in the rear view mirror. “Would you forgive the people who got your children killed?”
I didn’t answer. There was no answer for that question, and we all knew it.
“How is Connie your sister?” Jeremy blurted out. “I mean, if you two are vampires.”
I looked away so that Jeremy couldn’t see my grin.
“We’re not vampires, Jeremy,” Javier said. There was no mirth in his voice. “Isabella’s parents adopted Connie, but were killed on a field mission.”
“Oh,” Jeremy said. “So…oh. I’m sorry.”
Silence slipped over us again.
“I’m just driving,” Isabella finally said. “I don’t even know where we are.”
“Turn up here,” Jeremy said. “We can drive down to Trout River, turn around and come back. There’s less people along the road here, and we might not be noticed.”
Isabella did as Jeremy instructed and we made the turn. When we hit the tablelands, Javier said, “It looks like an alien planet here.”
Jeremy went into a detailed description about the geological forces that caused the red earth to jut out of the ground. They argued over if it was a tectonic plate or the earth’s crust, or if the crust was the same as the mantle, and then they all argued who was right.
I didn’t care. It was nice that they weren’t fighting about anything important or life threatening. It was nice to argue over what actually caused the soil to flip over and expose the underside of the planet’s soil. Like, come on. That was cool.
“What are we going to do?” I asked finally, when the geological argument died down.
Javier sighed. “I don’t know. Iz?”
“I think we dump Rachel, Jeremy, and Manny. We get ourselves and Connie somewhere safe.”
“I’m not leaving,” Connie said sternly.
“I’m staying with Connie,” Mary said.
Javier looked over his shoulder and said, “Mary, you need to stay with us.”
“Manny can’t come,” she insisted.
“I know,” Javier said. He glanced at Manny and said, “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not leaving him,” Connie said again, firmer. “I don’t respond well to being bait.”
“We can’t leave you here! They’ll just come back after you,” Isabella insisted.
“They said they won’t attack Rachel,” Manny said. “So maybe if you guys aren’t around, they’ll leave us alone because Rachel’s there.”
“Or they will wait until Connie goes to Corner Brook and kidnap her,” Isabella said. “No, it’s too dangerous.”
“I don’t think you heard me, Iz. You aren’t in charge of my life,” Connie said. “This is my choice. I am already a part of this. I’m staying.”
“They will hurt you,” Isabella said.
“I am not moving away,” Connie said.
“We will discuss this later,” Isabella said.
“No, we’re discussing it right now,” Connie said. “I’ve made a life in St. Anthony and I’m not ready to leave it.”
“This is a part of the life,” Isabella insisted. “Leaving is what we do.”
“Isn’t that what you were teasing Javier about just a few hours ago?” I asked.
Isabella remained silent.
“Seems to me that Connie wishes to stay. So, she’s staying,” I said. “I’ll look after her.”
Dema let out a long sigh. “Therefore, I will protect her, too. Spirit Caller, could you please limit the number of people you are protecting? I grow weary.”
“Dema, you don’t even sleep,” I protested.
“Thus, I grow weary.”
Jeremy snickered.
“Oh, shut up.”
Mary snickered.
A red civic pulled out from one of the many dirt roads along the side of the road and sped up.
“Company!” Jeremy shouted. He pushed my head down. “Get down.”
“Ow!” I shouted back at him. “You’re hurting me!”
“Weapons!” Jeremy shouted over my whines. “Driver side. Manny! Down!”
Bullets hit the van and I sobbed as metal scraped and the pop-pop-pop shattered the back window near Connie. Connie shrieked so loud my ears rang.
Jeremy crawled over the seat, even as the popping sound was more of a bang-bang-bang sound as the car caught up to us. I glanced up enough to see that the plastic safety coating of the side panel window was holding and very little glass had actually hit Connie.
“She’s not hurt!” Jeremy shouted back. “Rachel! Head down!”
I obeyed. Not, obeyed as in my man was speaking, but obeyed as in holy shit, I’m being real shot at and not pretend shot at and I’m going to die.
Jeremy was shouting at Javier to stop shooting as we barrelled down the winding road. Isabella was shouting at Jeremy to stop shouting at Javier. Mary was shrieking at the top of her lungs and gripping her head. Dema had completely stopped speaking English, yelling angrily as her existence flickered in and out. Connie was shouting for everyone to stop shouting. I was shouting for Connie to stop shouting and Manny was shouting for me to stop shouting.
None of us were handling the crisis well.
Isabella passed a logging truck going around a corner, and I swear to my Ancestors that our SUV came up on two wheels as she took the sharp turn going well over a hundred. To give you an idea, that corner has a 35 km/h sign. My hair was travelling faster than that.
More gunfire erupted and hit the SUV. Isabella screamed, “Fuuuuuuuuuuck.” She slammed on the breaks. I hit my head on the door and swore under my breath. I might have also been weeping slightly.
Jeremy was on his cell shouting. “Yes. No, we can’t stop because they’re going to kill us. We’re in Bonne Bay, past the park turn-off. We’re in a…what is the colour of this thing?”
“Grey,” Mary said.
“Blue,” Manny said.
“White,” Javier said.
“Oh my fucking god, it’s red, you morons,” Isabella said at the same time I said, “Red!”
“No, I don’t know the license plate. Yes. No, I don’t have my side arm. No, I don’t have my vest. I was at the cabin proposing to my girlfriend when they showed up. Listen! Fucking listen to me!” Jeremy shouted at the operator. “There are currently over ten vehicles that I’ve counted shooting at us from all directions. We are heading toward Trout River, in hopes we can draw them out on the stretch there. That’ll keep them away from civilians. I need you to get the word out now. Everyone off the street in their basements. Now. Do it! Yes, I’ll hold. Rachel, call Myrna and tell her to get the word out. I need everyone in their basements. Now!”
I pulled out my cell phone and dialled the number. A cheerful voice echoed, “Roy’s Store.”
“Myrna, it’s Rachel. We need your help.”
I explained the situation, using words like druglords, gangs, guns, and said we needed the Mounties to help us.
More shots riddled the car and the car swerved.
“Dammit!” Isabella shouted. The vehicle went into a tailspin before flipping into the ditch.
I hit my head several times in the process. I screamed in pain and the world dimmed. Even with my seat belt keeping me firmly in place, there was no stopping the impact on my body. Side impact beams weren’t meant for this.
Dazed as we were, none of us could do anything other than cover our heads and pray. What little glass was left exploded around us. I heard Javier cry out in pain, then Manny, and then Connie. Screams of pain and horror filled the van.
We were lucky that the undercarriage was up. I think. I was half asleep when Jeremy made me watch that episode of Mythbusters. Was it the engine that was the safest thing to hide behind? The undercarriage? Neither? Both? Damn, I can’t remember
. I knew I should have paid more attention.
I huddled myself into a little ball and Jeremy curled up around me, protecting me with his body. After all he’d been through, he was still willing to take more torture just to save me the pain.
“We can’t stay here!” Isabella shouted.
“Where are we going to go?” Javier shouted back. He reached his hand out of the broken windshield and fired his pistol gun thingy until it stopped firing.
Dema appeared in front of me and said, “You must call the spirits.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Call the spirits of this area and they will protect you. It’s the only way.”
“I don’t know how to do that.”
Dema frowned. “You are a Spirit Caller. Just ask them.”
Shrapnel bounced around our heads and a piece of metal nicked my hand. It stung as bubbles of blood welled up, but I’d had worse papercuts. “Dema, I can barely think with all of this going on.”
Dema looked over her shoulder and said, “Call them fast.”
Dema turned and stepped out of the van. She extended her arms in front of her and a translucent barrier of ghostly energy formed. The bullets bounced off the mysterious shield of protection. The bullets stopped and we all tentatively looked up. Three Whisperers approached Dema, all with swords like Javier’s.
“Oh Christ,” Javier said. “They’re going to kill her.”
Dema ducked and swirled away from the three swordsmen, but every time she had to pull a tendril away from the car, the others opened fire on the van.
“I have to help her,” I said, pushing myself up.
Jeremy pushed me back down to the ground. “Stay. Down.”
“No,” I growled. “They are going to kill her.”
“She’s already dead, Rachel,” Jeremy shouted. “I am not going to have you turn into a ghost, too.”
“She’s my friend,” I said, and the words stuck in my throat.
“She’s not,” Isabella said.
“Actually, I think she is,” Javier said, very quietly. “Rachel, what do you suggest?”
“You’re not going to like it,” I said.
“I already hate it,” Jeremy said, but he eased his arm off me.
Chapter 16
The Freaking Army of Spooks
I pulled my sleeves over my palms and gingerly climbed out of the SUV’s broken window. There was shattered safety glass everywhere. The shards were small, yes, but they could still send hundreds of stinging pricks into my hands if I wasn’t careful. I winced as a few cut through my shirt and into my flesh. A few more pressed against my knees through my jeans, and the sting of sweat seeping into a fresh wound made me wince.
I held up my hand, hoping that what worked in the movies also worked in real life. I didn’t think Dema could hold out much longer, especially not with the advancing three who wielded spirit swords. I had to put a stop to this, even though I didn’t really have a plan.
“I want to talk,” I shouted, one hand still in the air. The other I used to balance myself on the side of the car. Safety glass pressed into my skin. I could already feel the deep ache of whiplash settling in. At least Isabella had slowed the car enough that we didn’t kill ourselves when we flipped. Still, I was going to be in rough shape for the next few days.
I saw a man in the distance put up his own hand and he shouted for everyone to stop. The gunfire that was hammering Dema’s shield stopped, as did those advancing on her.
Jeremy gave me a helpful shove and I got myself on top of the van. I jumped down, the vehicle rocking a bit with my movements.
I walked up to stand next to Dema and said, “I am Rachel Mills.”
My hands were shaking horribly, so I shoved them into my jean back pockets. I also ignored my cramps, my headache, my aching back, and no doubt my developing concussion.
A man approached me that I instantly recognized. I’d never gotten a good look at him before when he tried to kill me in my hospital room, but I knew the cold, slimy feeling that washed over me.
A little girl, cloaked in her daddy’s arms. So small. So fragile. Just a little girl. So helpless.
“Knock that shit off,” I demanded. “I said I wanted to talk. I’m not going to let you into my mind.”
Die. You need to die. Grab a gun and pull the trigger. Blow your brains out all over the ground. Die. Die. Die.
Dema snapped her head to look at me and said, “Spirit Caller, beware!”
I didn’t look at her. I glared back at the man who had tried to kill me, Mrs. Saunders, and Manny. Who had successfully killed four teenagers by convincing them to commit suicide, so that there would be no investigation, no manhunt.
“Do not make me defend myself,” I said harshly. “Stop what you are doing.”
Worthless. So worthless. Kill everyone. Kill myself. Kill the Mounties. Slit, stab, shoot.
I threw my head back and laughed. “Is that the best you got, asshole?” I shouted.
“No,” said the Whisperer. “Though it seems your little pet demon here has taught you enough witchcraft to shield yourself.”
“No,” I said. “That was you thinking I was some little girl would couldn’t defend herself.” I eyed the scars on his cheek. “Did I do those?”
He touched his face, but didn’t reply.
“You’re lucky I didn’t do more.”
He snorted. “We’re here to rid the world of the likes of you.”
He raised his gun to fire. Dema’s tendrils reached across me, just as she’d done the night Jeremy had been shot. He fired. Nothing happened. The sound of metal hitting the ground filled my ears. I looked down to see the tiny little bullets rolling around on the ground.
“I can call spirits, too, when I need to,” the Whisperer said. “I can stop that old ghost of yours.”
I turned my head and said, “Dema, what would happen if I called the spirits here? Like, all of them?”
Dema’s eyes grew wide. So did the Whisperer’s. “Spirit Caller, you…please do not. I…cannot guarantee you will remain yourself after such an action.”
Behind me, I heard everyone crawling out of the van. The Whisperer raised his gun to aim at them, but I gently pushed it down. He let me.
“Enough people have died because of you,” I said. “How many accidents did we all cause on the highway today? How many children have you tricked into taking their lives? No more.”
“You can’t stop us, little girl.”
Fragments of memories stirred inside me from when Dema had possessed me. I knew I had the power to call to the spirits, but until this moment I didn’t realize how powerful that could be. I could call an army. How many people had lived and died in this area? All of the settlers who came first to fish. What about the natives who lived on the land before? What about the explorers and their train of servants? What about the various groups who lived and died over the millennia on this land?
“Spirit Caller, no,” Dema whispered. “It could kill you.”
But I was already into the spell. My eyes were closed as I searched the threads of other that existed in this area. When I found the threads, I could see in my mind how they were connected. When I tugged on a string with my mind, I realized I wasn’t pulling on individual spirits, but on time and place. I found myself reaching out well beyond the ground I stood upon. I felt my mind searching and calling from time immemorial, to even Dema’s ancestors. I pulled from all over the island.
I pulled them all to me. I didn’t issue forth commands or edicts. I just tugged on their lines, summoning them to my side, to protect me.
Vaguely in the distance, I heard shouting. I heard automatic weapons fire, a distinct sound of groaning metal and the stench of burning cordite. I knew my name was being called. I ignored it.
I tugged at more threads. Then I began to pull at them with my mind. Gone was gentle. I needed them here to protect me. If I was put on this earth to be a Spirit Caller, then I would be one. If I was going to die today for
having been a Spirit Caller, then I would die having called every single spirit within my abilities.
I yanked on the threads with my mind. I raked and clawed at them. Some pulled free in clumps and knots. I could feel my concentration wavering. I knew I was exhausting myself. I knew I was about to fall. I knew I was about to lose.
And yet I still pulled more protection to my side. If they wanted a fight, I’d give them such a damn fucking fight that they would never attack another Spirit Caller without a goddamn nuke.
I ran out of threads within my grasp. The rest were beyond my reach. I was too tired to pull any more. I dropped my metaphysical hand and let go of the image in my mind. A stabbing pain blasted through one side of my body and I dimly realized I’d fallen to one knee.
I opened one eye then the other. The grey clouds hid some, but not all, of the searing light. I winced. My stomach rolled and churned. Muscles ached that I didn’t know existed. Eye-watering pain stopped me from craning my neck. A cold sensation passed over me and I shivered. A dull ache hit my temple.
The muted screams and shouts were slowly coming back to me. I blinked several times and gasped when I couldn’t see in front of me. I fell back on my butt and kicked my feet out, trying to scurry backward.
“Jesus have mercy upon my soul.”
It took me a moment to realize it was Manny saying that. “What?”
“How is this even possible?” That was Isabella.
“She is ours,” Dema said. Even through the haze and confusion, I heard the pride in her voice.
I rolled over to my side. I felt a strong arm scoop under my armpit and pull me to my feet. It was Isabella. She stared at me with wide-eyed fascination, her handgun still firmly held in one hand.
She asked, “You okay?” She didn’t look at me. She was too busy scanning the area.
“I…I think so.” I touched my face and I pulled back wet fingers. Sweat, tears, and blood mingled on my hands, and I could finally place the odd taste in my mouth.
Dead Living (Spirit Caller Book 5) Page 13
