by Nathan Roden
“If you’re thinking of marching into that castle with this bunch of lightweight ghosts, you may as well step off of a cliff!” Tara said. “Because that would be a better death than the one you’re walking into!”
“We have a lot more firepower than this,” Duncan said. “Your father is an Army Major!”
“The Army is not like the fire department, son,” Robert said. “You can’t just call them and—”
“My brother was kidnapped at gunpoint, Sir!” Duncan said. “By a known criminal!”
“What man are we talking about?” Robert asked.
“The same man who—Holly? You didn’t tell him?” Duncan said.
“Tell me what?”
“The psychopath in that castle kidnapped Holly’s parents!” Duncan screamed. “They spent six months trapped in that dungeon!”
“What?” Robert screamed. “Holly—what is this boy talking about?”
“It’s a very long story,” Holly said. “He took them, yes—but he let them go, without a scratch. We had no evidence at all—”
“But why—?”
“Wellmore thought that they had the power to communicate with the ghosts. He finally gave up and released them. We thought that we were through with him, but he must have found out about Wylie—”
“I don’t understand,” Duncan said. “What does Wellmore want with Wylie?”
“He’s gonna try to team up with that demon,” Bruiser said. “And I bet you he thinks Wylie can help him do that.”
“Demon?” Robert said. “What demon?”
“That basement is chock full of demons, Chief,” Dougie Day said. “Crazy, scary demons. Especially that big one.”
“His name is Reygar,” Tara said.
“You know his name?” Arabella said. “How in creation do you know his name?”
“I…I…”
Tara’s eyes bulged. She began to shake. Her hands balled into fists. She closed her eyes and pressed her fists against the sides of her head.
“I don’t…I don’t know!”
Robert tried to put his arms around his daughter. He was thrown backward as if he had touched an electric fence.
Duncan grabbed Robert’s arm.
“We have to go, Major,” Duncan said. “We have no choice. We’re going to have to take that place out. Sir.”
“Take it out?”
Duncan paced back and forth.
“We go in with a first-strike team—maybe tear gas. Or a squad of MI-6. We grab Wylie, get him out, and then call in an air-strike. Maybe get a collateral damage assessment for a tactical nuke.”
“Woah, woah, woah!” Robert threw up his hands. “Son, I do not have the entire army at my disposal. We have to notify the local police—”
“There is no time for that, Sir,” Duncan said. “Let’s get to the hot zone and set up a perimeter.”
Robert took out his phone.
“I have two men in the area. They can be here within minutes.”
Duncan shook his head and moved to the edge of the trees.
“They can meet us at the castle,” Duncan said. “You have a five-person invisible surveillance team at your disposal, Major. Let’s move!”
Holly looked at her uncle in surprise.
“You heard the General,” Robert said. “Let’s move.”
Thirty-Eight
Wylie Westerhouse
Wellmore Village, Scotland
I heard noises outside of the closet door. Wellmore was back.
Was I about to die? Maybe Duncan and I could ride off into the sunset together. That wouldn’t be so bad.
The closet door opened. Sebastian Wellmore pulled the tape off of my mouth. He even did it gently, not like the way that the psychotic criminals do it in the movies. You know, where they get their jollies by tearing off a layer of your skin.
Wellmore pulled me to my feet and led me out into the room. This must have been his office or study. He has really nice taste. For a monster.
“Maybe you could tell me which rule I broke—”
“Save it, Mr. Westerhouse,” Sebastian said. He smiled—presumably at the look of shock on my face.
“Yes,” he said. “I know who you are.”
“Okay,” I said. “I realize that people make the assumption that all pop singers are rich, but the only money I’ve seen so far is—”
Sebastian Wellmore laughed.
“I’m not concerned with your money, or lack thereof,” he said. “Now, your friend, Lynchburg, I would very much like to have his money.”
Oh, no, I thought. Is that what this is about?
“But even a rags-to-riches multi-millionaire is not your most intriguing friend,” Wellmore sneered.
Sebastian stepped behind his desk and reached inside. He held a photograph in front of my face.
Gulp. He had an eight-by-ten photo of Holly.
“Why do you have that?” I asked.
“I know that you remember my letter, Mr. Westerhouse. I have the ability to take anyone I want, whenever I want.”
“You said you would leave them alone.”
“And so I have,” Sebastian said.
“What do you want with me? I won’t help you to get Holly.”
Wellmore put a finger on my chest. He pushed me backward toward a chair. He pushed me into it, leaned over me, and looked me in the eyes.
“What are you doing in my home?”
“I’m on holiday.”
“Where is she?” Wellmore asked.
“Where is who?”
Wellmore straightened up. He walked back to his desk and pulled a notebook from the drawer. He read aloud.
“Miss Holly McFadden: departed New York City. Arrived in London at ten A.M., three days ago. She accompanied her paternal uncle; Army Major Robert Jamison. The pair took the train to Edinburgh, arriving at roughly four in the afternoon. I lost track of them at that point. An associate whom I depend on for such information met with a…an unfortunate accident.”
“Holly doesn’t tell me about her every move,” I said. “If you knew everything, you would also know that we had a big fight. She’s not even speaking to me.”
Wellmore waved his arm in front of himself.
“Yet, here you are. Walking through my home.”
“I bought a ticket.”
“Major Jamison also has a gifted daughter,” Wellmore said. “Have you met Tara?”
Inside my brain, circuits were misfiring. Gears were grinding together and breaking their teeth.
Wellmore studied my reaction. He had caught me completely off-guard.
“Such a collection of fascinating young people!” Wellmore clapped his hands. “With their supernatural powers.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have any—”
“Spare me, Mr. Westerhouse,” Wellmore said. “Do you recall meeting an exuberant gentleman in the boarding area at Heathrow a few months ago?”
Wellmore switched to a friendly voice.
“I spend quite a lot of time in America, you see. Are you Wylie Westerhouse?”
Wellmore laughed. He must have found the look on my face delicious.
“Why, you were traveling with a full cast of invisible friends!” Wellmore said.
He leaned in toward me again.
“What a splendid gift our dear Miss McFadden bestowed upon you—the power to move freely between the world of the living and the world of the dead!”
I couldn’t think straight. Wellmore knew too much.
“It was only temporary,” I said.
“We will see.” Wellmore grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. He pushed me ahead of him.
“Walk.”
I knew exactly where we were going.
Wellmore pushed open the cellar door and stepped inside. A cold wind and a foul stench hit me in the face. Something had changed since I was last at this spot, only a couple of hours earlier. Wellmore shone a flashlight in the steps. We descended.
I stood
aside as Wellmore opened an immense iron and wood door. The cold and the smell intensified. I was swarmed by the horrible spirits that Bruiser, Dougie, and Delbert had told me about. While a cast of horrible visions passed in front of my face, Sebastian Wellmore grabbed my hand.
“Ha, ha, ha, ha!” Wellmore roared. His laughter came to an abrupt stop. With his free hand, he backhanded me across the face.
“Temporary?” he screamed at me. “Temporary, Boy? LIAR!”
I shook my head. There was nothing else I could do. The ropes that bound my arms to my sides barely allowed me room to breathe. I could taste blood in my mouth.
Wellmore grabbed my face. He moved my head from one side to the other. The ghoulish creatures floated around me, cackling. The emaciated men. The headless man. The woman with no skin on her face.
“Maybe it is only temporary,” Wellmore said in a mocking voice. He made a deliberate show of unsheathing a long and nasty looking dagger.
“Perhaps I could just cut off your hand and dispose of the rest of your worthless, lying body.”
A huge translucent form whooshed past me. This creature must have stood over seven feet tall. He had huge arms and an immense barrel chest. The black hood he wore left his mouth exposed. Drool dripped from his fanged mouth. I closed my eyes when he raised his ax over his head.
“I do not need your help, Imbecile!” Wellmore screamed. I opened one eye.
The executioner lowered his ax and stepped aside. Wellmore put his dagger away.
“I’m sure that your severed hand would wither and rot. It would eventually cease to work at all,” Wellmore said.
“Exactly,” I said. “That’s what would happen.”
I jumped when Wellmore screamed into the darkness.
“Where are you, Reygar?”
I could not believe my eyes. A horrible beast that was the stuff of nightmares rose up out of the floor.
My first thoughts at this terrifying moment confirmed that I had lost my mind. I couldn’t help thinking that I was watching the most awesome opening to a heavy metal concert in the history of the world.
The enormous red best had ivory horns coming out of its forehead. His eyes blazed with a sickly yellow glow. Sticky saliva dripped from its large, sharp fangs.
I was dizzy and my knees started to buckle. I doubled over and lost my lunch.
It was only days after probably the greatest day in my life. And I was about to die—in the most horrible way imaginable.
“What have we here?” the beast growled.
“Everything that we need,” Wellmore said.
“Will you ever serve to be anything other than a disappointment?” the beast said. “I told you to bring Tara Jamison to me!”
I was barely coherent, but now I was also confused.
How did this demon know about Holly’s cousin?
“This boy possesses the gift!” Wellmore screamed. “The McFadden girl passed it to him.”
“The gift perhaps,” the beast said. “But where is the power? The delicious fury and rage! This boy possesses none of the Jamison girl’s abilities, or you could not have so easily—”
Wellmore drew his dagger again. He raised his hand. I had not noticed it before, but his little finger was taped to the one next to it.
“That’s right, Reygar! It is I who am made of flesh and bone! It is I who can be broken and suffer! So, lust after the girl’s power all you like. I will not be killed or crippled to satisfy your madness!”
The beast roared with laughter.
“So, you have brought me this toy, instead! If this boy’s blood permits our union to be made complete, we will become powerful indeed.
“But with the blood of one as powerful as Tara Jamison, I could march on the gates of heaven and hell!”
My heart was beating fast—too fast for my capacity to get oxygen to my brain. I had seen a lot of horror movies in my life, but nothing could have prepared me for this. I was listening to a demon and a psychopath discuss the benefits of my blood—on the floor of a Scottish dungeon.
“I have no powers,” I said weakly. “And I told you—the ghost sight is only temporary.”
“Silence!” Sebastian Wellmore pointed his dagger at me.
“Temporary?” Reygar said. He chuckled.
“I think not. The Heir of the Great Alistair Wellmore has been without the ability to see or hear me for the entirety of his life. A thousand years I have waited for the blood of destiny! This blood will forge my bond with the heir of Alistair Wellmore—the first of his name! The Great One who summoned me from the depths! The Magnificent Architect of Vengeance who was struck down by the human ignorance of his day! I shall, at last, be free from the walls of this once magnificent palace of evil! Free from the bonds of the spirit world!”
“You should rejoice, child! You will play a pivotal role in my ultimate transformation! Your blood will enable an alliance that this world has yearned for—a union that will shake the foundations of the world!”
“Yours is only half of the equation, Reygar,” Wellmore said. “Lest you forget, my transformation happens this day, as well.”
Wellmore opened a pair of cabinet doors. Inside was a single gold chalice. It was adorned with jewels and looked to be worth a fortune. Wellmore pushed me against the wall and sat the chalice on a table.
“When our union is complete,” Wellmore said to Reygar. “When I am free of human limitations, I will bring Tara Jamison and Holly McFadden to this place. We will make a toast and drink their blood together!”
Wellmore reached for my hand. I balled my hands into fists, but I was bound and terrified, and he was too strong. Wellmore bent my fingers back. He placed the tip of the dagger against my palm.
Wait for me, Chunky Dunky.
Thirty-Nine
Holly McFadden
Wellmore Village, Scotland
Robert Jamison parked his car at the bottom of the hill beneath Castle Wellmore. Robert, Holly, and Tara got out, as did the ghosts.
“Let’s get at it, then!” Arabella said as she started up the hill.
“Wait!” Duncan said. Arabella returned, but she was not happy about it.
“Mr. Scoggins,” Duncan said.
“What?” Delbert whined.
“Uh, unless you have a more discreet outfit with you, I think you should stay here,” Duncan said. “You’re a little too….noticeable.”
Delbert snapped off a salute.
“Stay here! Got it, Commander! Thank you very much.”
Duncan looked at Bruiser.
“Bruiser—”
“I ain’t stayin’ here!” Bruiser Brady growled. “I don’t know what you’re thinkin’, Dunky—”
“I’m thinkin’ that those…things in there have seen you before,” Duncan said. “If any of them spot you, they’re going to know that something is up, and we lose the element of surprise.”
“He’s right.”
Robert and Arabella said it at the same time. They looked at each other awkwardly.
“They didn’t see Dougie,”Arabella said. “Right, Dougie?”
“No ma’am,” Dougie said. “I was in and outta there like a ninja! Like water off a duck’s back! Like—!”
“We got it, Dougie. They didn’t see you,” Duncan said. “Bruiser, I think you should come up the hill with us, but to stand watch and stay hidden outside. Arabella, Dougie, and I can check out the dungeon and the rest of the castle if need be. Let’s try that back wall with the boarded-up windows first.
The ghosts flew up the hill. Moments later, a car with its lights off rolled to a stop beside Robert’s car. Archer Thompson and Ned Collins stepped out.
“Robert?” Archer whispered. “Is this your daught—? Wait, do you have two daughters?”
Tara took a step backward. Archer and Ned held up their hands.
“We’re on your side, Tara,” Archer said. “We go back a long way with your Dad. We’ve been through a lot together—most of which we’ll never be able to talk a
bout. We’ll do everything we can to keep you safe.”
“We’ve been ordered back to base, Robert,” Ned said. “We have a debriefing meeting at o-seven-hundred.”
“You…you haven’t told them anything,” Robert said.
“No!” Archer said. “I may be paranoid, but I’m not sure they’re buying my stories. They could very well be tracking our movements. We didn’t bring our phones with us. I won’t beat around the bush—they think you’ve turned vigilante.”
“We’re talking about my daughter!” Robert said. “Do they expect me to stand by while she’s tracked down like a bloody animal?”
“Who is this young lady?” Ned asked.
“This is Holly McFadden, my niece,” Robert said.
“Holl—” Ned said. He looked at Archer. Both men looked uncomfortable.
“This is getting waaay out of control, Robert!” Archer said. “Intel had already intercepted a trace on Holly McFadden by a man with connections to—oh, we haven’t time to get into it now!”
“We have to do something now, Archer,” Robert said. “Or I’m sending a request to deploy Papa Team.”
“Papa—” Ned said. Ned and Archer stepped close to Robert.
“Don’t even think about it, Bobby,” Archer said quietly. “You’re talking about ending your career as well as ours. We’d be lucky not to spend the rest of our lives behind bars!”
“What are they talking about?” Holly whispered to Tara. “What is Papa Team?
Tara stared ahead.
“Papa. P….”
She turned to Holly.
“I’ll bet that stands for ‘paranormal’.”
Holly gulped.
“Do you think the army has a paranormal team?”
Tara nodded.
“If they don’t, they’ll have one soon enough.”
“Miss McFadden,” Archer said. “Do you have similar…abilities?”
