I held the flashlight in my mouth and put the salt on top of the bureau so I could get a grip. The bureau was layered in decay. I tried to push it away from the wall. It wouldn’t budge. Anna went to the opposite side to help, and the two of us managed to wriggle it a half a foot forward. Once Jess joined us, we maneuvered the bureau far enough out to see behind it. A narrow door was wedged in the corner.
“It’s real,” Jess whispered. She reached out to touch the planks of the door, reverent when she slid her fingers over the rough wooden surface. There was an old-fashioned iron latch in place of a proper doorknob. Jess reached for it. A faint grinding noise rattled the air as she pressed the button tab at the top. The door wouldn’t open. The latch was rusted shut or the lock had been jammed.
“Here, hold this,” I said to Anna, handing her my flashlight. She angled both beams at the door as I reached for the lock. My feet slid across the floor, but I found some purchase by wedging my leg against the wall. Jess and I fussed with the latch. The tab finally gave, a mechanism inside squealing in protest as we bullied its gears after so many years of disuse.
“On three,” Jess said. She counted and the two of us pressed and pulled, forcing the latch to open. The good news was, it worked. The door swung toward us, sending us skidding. Jess stumbled back and landed on the floor.
The bad news was more bats. So many bats that hadn’t left for their evening feeding. A chorus of high-pitched squeals rang out, and then the flutter of a thousand wings beat the air as the bats blasted up from the dark. I dove for the floor and Anna huddled on her haunches, the flashlights dropping and skittering away. My hands sailed up to protect my head as bats skimmed across my hair with their wings and feet. I cowered lower, my only defense against the aerial assault.
The explosion of bats was over as fast as it had begun, the last of them squeaking off into the night. Anna fumbled around to collect the flashlights. Jess, however, whimpered behind me.
“Oh, God, nasty. Nasty,” she groaned. I glanced over at her to see what was wrong. Jess still had her Maglite and was pointing it at the sludge on her fingers. The sludge we’d been sliding in all this time. The sludge I now realized was bat guano. Not only was the basement full of the creatures, but they must have been living in the remaining eaves of the church as well, which explained the ammonia smell.
Disgusting.
“Don’t think about it,” I said. I reached out to help her to her feet. She clasped my sleeve and smeared me in some of the muck. I struggled to take my own advice. She skidded into my side and we stepped toward the top of the steps to peer through the door, our free hands clasped together, fingers laced in apprehension and fear.
Stairs leading down into an unfathomable dark—stairs with no railing and no walls to support a would-be visitor. This had to be the place. My pulse pounded. Jess edged forward but stopped herself at the threshold. The stairs were steep and narrow, and there was a glistening sheen on the stone that indicated a long, slippery trip if she misstepped. She swung the Maglite around the room to get a better look. It was maybe fifteen feet long by twenty feet wide. Water covered most of the floor, though I could see dry spots at the corners of the room. Directly across from the stairs, there were crates stacked against the far wall, most of them covered by drop cloths in various states of decay.
The ammonia smell was thick and concentrated in the basement. Jess pointed to a crumbling break in the wall along the ceiling, a gap no bigger than a bowling ball, with a tiny bit of moonlight shining through. The bat entrance.
“I’m going down,” I said. I knew I had to do it. Jess was right; this was necessary. Daylight and shovels would suit me better, but I was willing to risk the darkness to search for answers.
Jess swung the flashlight my way, blasting me in the eyes. I lifted my hand to block the light, and she jerked it away with a deep breath.
“You sure? It’s…Not sure how safe it is,” Jess said.
“Are you actually asking about safety? Who are you and what have you done with Jess?” Anna asked from behind us. Jess grunted; I tittered a little.
I was careful where I put my sneaker. Jess held out her hand to steady me. For a moment, I thought she’d descend into the basement too, but she stayed at the top to anchor me as long as she could. Four steps. Five steps. The stone was slick, but my going slowly and Jess’s hold kept me upright with minimal slippage.
When I was halfway to the bottom, Jess followed, easing her way down while Anna took position in the doorway, her dual flashlights illuminating the path into the recesses. We were like a chain gang, with one of us near the bottom, one hovering midstairs, and one at the top. I extended my toe to check the water’s depth. The floor beneath felt solid, though I felt a tire-size dip caved into the middle, like the stones were sinking into the ground. If I avoided that portion, I thought I could stand without too much problem.
I tugged away from Jess and took the last step. The slope was harder to avoid than I’d presumed. I was standing in cold, black water up to my ankles. I forced myself to concentrate on the crates ahead of me.
“You okay?” Jess asked as I sloshed toward the crates. If Mary’s body was down here, it wasn’t in the crates, but I was curious what was inside them. The first drop cloth disintegrated upon touch, some of the fibers sticking to my fingers. A chunk of cloth fell into the water by my feet. I shivered and brushed off my hands before rooting through a crate.
“A little light over here?” I called to Jess. She lifted the Maglite enough that I could see a stack of books inside the crate, though the covers were too decayed to touch. I eased my way over to another crate and peeked over the edge. This one was half-collapsed, its contents oozing onto the floor. What remained inside was rotten, but among all that moldy, unidentifiable sludge, I spotted something shiny.
I remembered the mirror from Mary’s letter and wondered if this might be it—if that tiny glint from within the crate was a missing piece to the puzzle that was Mary Worth. I carefully slid it out and lifted it up. A part of me wanted it to be a clue, but another part wondered what I’d do with it if it were. But looking at it in the dim light, disappointment quieted my fears. It wasn’t a mirror, just glass.
Something scurried across my hand. I glanced down and saw a black beetle—the same beetle I’d seen worming its way out of Mary’s skin. Black, shiny carapace, too many legs. I felt it skitter over my arm and I flicked it away, shuddering. Didn’t bats eat bugs? Yet this one somehow flourished down here in the dark. It was another thing to add to my Do Not Think About list.
I returned to the crate of books. I picked it up and moved it aside to look at one of the middle crates. The topmost layer would likely be damaged from the bats above, and the bottom layer would likely be drenched by water. The best place to find something useful was somewhere in the middle.
This crate was not as wet as the others, though the stack of papers inside was still impossible to read. Next to the stack was a small metal box. I pulled it out, taking a moment to brush the slushy remnants of old papers away from its top. The front had a loop for a miniature padlock, but there was no lock there anymore. Maybe there never was one.
“Point the light right on me?” I called up the steps.
Anna aimed both flashlights in my direction as I tugged open the lid of the metal box. It squealed, its hinges hungry for oil. Inside was a stack of black-and-white photographs that were surprisingly undamaged. For a moment I tensed, thinking I’d discovered more pictures of Mary, but the images were too modern. I did, though, recognize the person in most of them. It was the Dietrich woman from the church picture. She was smiling and posing for shots, sometimes in groups, sometimes on her own. She was no more than twenty or thirty in most of the pictures. For a moment, I stared at her. There was something oddly familiar about her smile.
Before I could place the smile, something quick and small scuttled across my arm. I dropped the pictures back into the crate just as I felt another beetle crawling up my calf. More crept
on me, tickling me with their thread-thin legs. I returned the crate and reached into my sleeve, grabbing on to a hard shell attached to a set of violent, hairy legs. I flung it across the basement.
“Uuuuugh. Bugs,” I cried, hiking my pants up and itching where I’d felt one scour my ankle. The beetle had climbed up to my knee. I reached for it, right as I felt another one wiggle its way across the back of my neck. And another one graze my cheek to run down my front, into my shirt and under my bra. “Jesus!”
“Are you okay?” Anna asked.
“Yeah. No. Maybe—I…Beetles. Like, the black ones that come with Mary. I bet she’s here. Maybe under my feet. There’s a dip in the stone, so maybe she’s buried—” My voice cut off on a squeal as another bug crawled down my back and another across my hip. I wanted to get out of here. I turned back for the stairs, but I couldn’t move because of the hands that tore from the water, anchoring my legs in place.
The jagged edges of Mary’s fingernails punctured through my thin socks, jabbing at my skin. I tried to kick her away—to walk toward Jess who was reaching for me, screaming instructions I couldn’t understand in my panic—but those hands jerked on me and I fell forward. My arms stretched out, stopping me from smashing my face against the cold steps. I landed hard and wailed, my forearms and knees throbbing in pain from the impact. My legs were in the puddle from the knees down, and her iron grip moved from my ankles to my calves.
“Take my hand. TAKE MY HAND,” Jess shouted.
“The salt. Anna, get the salt!” I yelled, my fingers clenching on Jess’s forearm. Jess locked her grip on me and pulled up while Mary pulled back. I swiveled my head around, scanning the water’s surface from the light of Jess’s Maglite. Mary exploded up in a spray of rancid black rain. She was covered in wet leaves and strings of dead vines, her torso above the water while the rest of her remained hidden below. Strands of hair were plastered to her lumpy scalp, her dress glued to a skeletal frame.
Mary let out a wheezy chitter of laughter as her hands locked around my knees. She jerked me back and away from Jess. I sailed through the air and landed in the water, splashing the walls as my body made contact with the floor. The air was forced from my lungs, another stab of pain shredding its way through my already-bruised arms.
We were stupid. Stupid to be there. Stupid to be unprepared for the worst. Mary snarled and I felt her fingernails raking over my legs. She was trying to cut me through my jeans. She let out a furious squeal as I felt her fingernails rip into my sides. Instant anguish, those little razors digging into my stomach and twisting. I squirmed and tried to crawl away, but Mary clutched a hand into my hair. I felt cold, wormlike fingers slithering along the back of my scalp before she took a fistful of my curls and pressed my face into the water.
My nose hit the floor stones. White fireworks burst behind my eyes. I heard Jess screaming my name, I heard Anna shouting. I held my breath. I held it so long, my lungs ached. Just as I was about to open my mouth and let the flood in, Mary screeched behind me, her hands falling away. I tore my face up with a bellow, furiously gasping for air, as Mary snarled and thrashed behind me.
“Shauna! Come to me. Come on,” Jess hollered. I opened my eyes, squinting against the water drops running down my face. I crawled toward Jess’s voice. My vision swam, but I was able to make out two sets of shoes on the steps—Anna had come down too, and when I lifted my gaze, I saw she was rapidly firing salt at Mary.
Jess tugged me to the stairs. I cleared the first two steps without slipping, but Mary lunged at me again, her fingers tangling in the hem of my T-shirt. I kicked out at her, my heel striking her arm with a loud snap. She let go with a rattling snarl. The three of us made the perilous climb upstairs, Anna tossing salt the entire way. It was enough to keep Mary away, though each time I looked back at her, a little more of Mary had spilled out of that black puddle on the floor.
“I’m almost out of salt. It’s almost empty. We have to go,” Anna croaked. Jess reached for my wrist, grabbing it and dragging me through the church and toward the front doors. I looked back to make sure we weren’t abandoning Anna. She stayed a few steps behind to rifle the rest of the salt, but when Mary crawled out of the basement, dragging herself up by her hands, Anna tore past us to get to the car. I couldn’t blame her—Mary erect was fearsome. She was more spider than ghoul right now, one of her elbows bent in instead of out, her feet flat to the ground so she scurried instead of walked. Her back was arched too low. Her head dangled at an unnatural angle while her white serpent tongue thrust out from between her lips, licking our scent in the air.
Jess and I ran, the Maglite swinging back and forth with Jess’s frenzied gait. I hurt all over. My chest ached from gasping. I was dizzy with fear, but I kept pace with Jess even as Mary snorted and groaned at us from behind. We crested the front steps of the church and stumbled into the grass, Anna only a few feet ahead of us.
Four steps out of the doorway, two enormous lights blasted us in the face. We stopped short, stuck between the apparition and the disorienting lights ahead of us. Then it registered—those were headlights. It was a car. A car with flashing blue lights on the roof.
“All right, kids. Rein it in. You’re not supposed to be out here,” a disembodied female voice said from behind the car. “This is Ms. Dietrich’s private property.”
I put my hands up and walked toward the car, trying to look inconspicuous. I wanted to get away from the church and be near the person with the gun as quickly as possible. I couldn’t hear snarling behind me anymore, but I didn’t trust the dark. The dark had too many secrets.
“Hi! Hi, we saw…something, but it was…” Before Anna got too far into an explanation, she noticed me edging away from her and followed. I saw the policewoman’s outline and then I saw the policewoman herself. Tall, thick through the shoulders, a little heavy; she was older than my mom, with short black hair peppered with gray and a pair of glasses on her face. She had her hand on her hip, but not near her weapon. I let my hands drop to my sides.
“Ms. Dietrich called me out when she saw you drive up. What are you girls doing out here?” she demanded.
Jess trotted up next to us. She was pale, her eyes a little bigger than they ought to be, but she faked being okay better than me and Anna. Anna looked green, her arms wrapped around her middle as if to hold her insides inside. The wind had picked up, whipping the grass around our feet into a frenzy. My wet clothes clung to my skin. I shivered, my teeth loudly chattering. “We were playing Truth or Dare,” Jess explained. “Go into the church at night.”
“Got ya. Well, how about you show me a license and registration so you can Truth or Dare your way back home?” the cop said.
The officer drove us back to the car, remarking not once, not twice, but three times about how bad we smelled. Anna had shared our bat encounter. The cop grunted, regretting inviting us into her cruiser. This was the type of stench that lingered.
At the car, Jess handed her paperwork to the officer. My eyes swung back in the direction of the church. Mary was there somewhere. Or maybe she wasn’t. It was hard to tell which thought was more terrifying. She’d either slithered back through the water and into her glass world or she was here, in this world. Maybe she was hunting me. Maybe she was tearing up Ms. Dietrich. I felt sick from the smell and the fresh gouges in my sides. My arms ached. My legs itched from the memory of beetles dancing over my skin.
The cop tapped Jess’s license. “Are you related to—”
“Gus McAllister. He’s my grandfather,” Jess interrupted.
The officer nodded and handed the ID back. “All right, here’s the deal. You’re going to get in that car with your friends and you’re going to drive straight home. Massachusetts law still has a curfew for teenagers, and if you want the privilege of driving, you honor it.” The officer turned to point at me and Anna like we were Jess’s shameful secrets. “And no more trespassing, girls. That church isn’t a playground. Someone could have gotten hurt.”
She di
dn’t know the half of it. “Thank you, officer,” I said.
The silence was oppressive during the ride home. When Jess got us back to the section of the highway that had things like streetlights and modern buildings, she turned on the radio. Anna reached out and snapped it off. Jess glared at Anna. I caught a glimpse of Anna’s furious expression through the passing lights.
“Just take me home. I’ll get my stuff from you tomorrow,” I said, my voice ragged from screaming. My throat felt like I’d gargled with dust.
“Are you staying with her tonight, then?” Jess asked Anna. Anna hissed a confirmation back. Jess shrugged off Anna’s anger, but I knew Jess was bothered—her shoulders were tense and her jaw clenched.
I was wet and scared. The salted tape was securely on the windows, but I wanted more. I wanted every ward we could muster to keep Mary away, and right then, we had nothing else.
“Do you think she’s…Is she free? Did we free her?” I asked, my voice warbling.
Anna groaned, a feral whine that sounded more animal than human. Jess shook her head.
“No. I’ve never heard of that happening,” Jess said.
“But you don’t know for sure,” I added.
“Well, I’m taking an educated guess. Mary went away the moment the policewoman showed up. So she probably disappeared or—”
“But if she disappeared, does that mean she blinks out like you flipped a switch? Or does she physically have to go back to the place she passed through?” I asked.
Jess hesitated and then sighed, defeated. “I don’t know. Maybe Cordelia would, but I don’t know.”
Silence filled the car as Jess pulled into my driveway to drop off me and Anna. Jess lifted her hand in a half wave; I returned the gesture. Anna ignored it. I put my key into my house lock, doing my best to overlook the flickering lightbulb in the building’s hallway. I’d never noticed the light or heard its low-grade hum before, but I noticed a lot of things lately that I hadn’t a week ago. Perpetually searching for a ghost had heightened my senses, like a rabbit living among wolves.
Mary (Bloody Mary) Page 13
