The ghost said nothing, only stood there, most likely looking at Frank, although he couldn’t tell. “I’ll think about it,” he told Frank eventually.
Frank nodded, eyes narrow. “Good, ye do that. But think fast, Al. Because if ye’re on the wrong side of things—or no side—ye’ll get no help from me when it’s all over.”
Al scoffed. “How would you help me, Frank? If what you say is true, then if the witches die, I die. So how would you help me?”
Frank leaned back, his anger subsiding some. “Those witches are already dead. They just don’t know it yet. Claire does, though, and so do I. What ye have to understand is, she can either work to keep ye alive, or not care. That’s the only chance ye really have at this point.”
Chapter Sixteen
Three days had passed since the package of four-leaf clovers arrived.
Claire had gone to Marissa and Jack and told them what was going on. Frank had been taken. They had to train and wait for Mitchen, and she expected them to train harder than they ever had before. They had to get out of the funhouse before they’d be allowed to go. Every day they didn’t complete that task, every day they wasted, was a day Frank might die.
It was a solemn affair; not even Jack had any jokes. Everyone liked Frank. Everyone wanted him back.
By the end of day three, a total of six days since Frank had left, Claire’s muscles hurt worse than ever before. She felt like someone had injected acid into every part of her body, and even the idea of moving created an almost physical revulsion.
It was ten at night, and all Claire wanted was sleep. They hadn’t made it out of the funhouse today, but they’d gotten closer. The closest they’d gotten, actually, which was encouraging. Still, the FBI wasn’t going to let the three of them leave without beating it. They wouldn’t risk losing any of them, even if it might mean getting Frank back, or rather, they wanted that risk to be very, very low.
Claire’s eyes were just closing when she heard her dorm room door. Her eyes flashed wide, and she whipped to her side before rolling onto the floor. Her hand shot under the bed—the wooden stake from last semester still there at all times—and she brought it out, ready to shove it deep inside whoever just entered her room.
No one was there.
The door stood open, but she saw nothing. Marissa was standing too, although she hadn’t grabbed any weapons.
“Jack?” Claire called. “Is that you? If you’re messing around, I’m going to kill you. I’m tired. We both are.” She slowly stood up.
“Claire,” Marissa whispered. “What if that had been Dean Pritcham? You were going to kill her?”
Claire waved away the question. She hadn’t thought about that, probably because of how tired she was. Yet, Dean Pritcham would have knocked. Claire still didn’t feel good about this situation. Because the door remained open, and no one was there.
She heard something move behind her and she whipped around, the stake at her shoulder ready to strike.
The chair had moved, pushed back like Jack did when he threw his feet up on her desk.
“Jack,” Claire whispered, feeling very scared now. “Jack, are you in here?”
“I’m not Jack.”
A chill rolled down Claire’s back when she heard the words. It wasn’t like a human talking, but more like a wind rustling through a forest—as if the leaves were speaking.
She looked at Marissa, who had turned as white as the moon. Marissa hadn’t taken her eyes off the chair.
Claire didn’t know what to say because she understood what was in her room right now. A ghost. There wasn’t any other explanation, and what did you say when a ghost broke into your dormitory?
“Wh-why are you here?” she stammered.
“I’ll shoot straight, I’m not happy to be here. That was a long trip, and I was naked most of the time,” the ghost’s voice still sounded ephemeral. “You’re Claire?”
Her eyes narrowed and the stake remained poised to strike, although at what, she didn’t know. “Yeah, I’m Claire. Who are you, and why are you here?”
“Lordy, that was a long way to come to meet you,” the ghost told her. The chair moved back slightly as if it were sitting on it. “You can call me Al. You know a little green leprechaun who drinks too much and has a bad attitude?”
Claire’s eyes widened, and the stake dropped to her side, but she didn’t even notice. “Frank?”
“That’s the one,” Al replied. “He somehow convinced me to trek across the country, go to a shitty bar in this cold part of the world, and then find my way all the way out here. Wait, wait, I’m not finished. Then I had to break into this place, rummage through directories, and finally sneak into teenage girls’ dormitories. All while naked.”
“Why are you naked?” Marissa asked.
Claire laughed, unable to help herself.
“Frank isn’t the brightest, and I take it the rest of his friends aren’t either,” he responded, the chair leaning back even farther. “Because if I were wearing clothes, I might have been seen on the way up here. If I’m seen on a beach, I can just run. If I’m seen on a plane, there are not a lot of places I can go. And from what I’ve been told, everyone in here can see me.”
Marissa’s eyes narrowed. “Couldn’t you just drop your clothes if you were on a plane? Then no one would see you?”
It sounded like the ghost started to say something but then quit.
Claire was smirking. “She’s got you there. Maybe we’re not all as dumb as Frank. Or maybe you just really like being naked.”
“Yak-yak-yak,” Al mocked. “You want to hear why Frank sent me up here or not?”
The smile dropped quickly from Claire’s face. “Yes, of course.”
“First, we need to get a few things straight. I need some assurances.”
“What kind of assurances?” Claire asked.
“Well, for one, that you’re going to do something about me dying when you kill those witches. If you kill those witches. I have my doubts, but Frank seems to think you’re some kind of badass. I personally think you’re going to get down there and wind up dead, but let’s say I’m wrong. If I am, before you kill those witches and whatever spell they have on Miami right now disappears, I want some assurances that you’ll do your best to make sure I don’t disappear with it.”
Claire wasn’t sure how to answer, only that she had to get Frank back. She looked at Marissa. She didn’t know spells or how they might keep this creature alive, but if anyone did, it would be Marissa.
She met Claire’s eyes and shrugged.
Claire turned back to the chair. “I’ll do my best.”
“You give me your word on that?” the apparition asked.
“Yeah, you have my word. Now tell me what you know about Frank.”
The ghost sighed. “I really shouldn’t have ever gotten involved with that green munchkin. Should have just walked away when I saw him that day on the beach.” The chair straightened up as if he was now leaning forward. “The witches have him. He’s in a basement and guarded by spells. The ropes binding him aren’t going to break, not with any amount of muscle. He can’t use his teleportation abilities, either.”
“What are they going to do with him?” Claire asked. Her hand tightened involuntarily on the stake.
“He’s bait. For you.”
Like Dr. Byron said, Claire thought.
“But I can tell you where he’s at,” the ghost continued. “The exact location. I can bring you to him. It’s going to be up to you to free him and deal with the people holding him.”
Claire looked down at the floor. They hadn’t had any idea how to get to Frank once in Miami, so this was a godsend. Yet, they weren’t ready, and she knew it.
She looked in the ghost’s direction. “Okay, but you have to stay here for a few more days.”
“Stay here?” Al repeated.
“We’re not ready to go. We’ve got a few more things we have to do, but we’ll need you to take us to Frank when we’re fin
ished.” Claire’s face was hard. She knew what her bargaining power was here, and that she had to use it. “Wait a little bit longer. Hang out naked as long as you want. We’ll be ready soon, and then you can take us down there. If you do that, my friends and I will make sure you live through this. If you don’t, then we won’t.”
She could almost feel the ghost’s eyes on her. Studying her. Testing her mettle.
“Fine,” he agreed.
Claire knocked on Dean Pritcham’s door. Her body was still sore, and she had hardly slept last night after speaking to Al, but she’d been up at six in the morning all the same—because Frank needed her. This had developed into something beyond saving the world or protecting mankind, as ridiculous as it sounded.
For Claire, this was only about protecting Frank. Twice now he had gone above and beyond any kind of call of duty for her. He’d put his life on the line, and regardless of what the FBI and university wanted—or the world for that matter—she was going to save Frank.
If she had to burn witches, then that’s what she would do.
“Come in,” the dean called from the other side of the closed door.
Claire opened it and stepped in. She was alone. Marissa and Jack were preparing. Claire had made up her mind. Today was the day, everything else be damned.
“Hi, Claire.” Dean Pritcham looked at Claire with confusion. “We don’t have a meeting, do we?”
Claire shook her head. “No. Nothing scheduled, but I need to talk to you about the weapons they’re developing. After today, we’re going to be ready to go to Miami. So is Dr. Mitchen going to be finished?”
Dr. Pritcham leaned back in her chair. “If I said no, would it matter?”
“Not to me. Maybe to the team, but I doubt it.” Claire shrugged. “I’m leaving after today, and if that means I get kicked out of school, that’s fine. I want to do it with your support, and I’d like to have whatever weapons Dr. Mitchen working on, but the most important thing is getting to Frank.”
Dr. Pritcham studied her for a few moments, and Claire wasn’t sure what the woman would say.
It’s actually not important, she thought. Your mind is as made up now as it was when you left for this place. The dean isn’t changing it.
“They did a good job when they picked you,” Dean Pritcham commented, bringing her hands up in front of her so that the fingers touched. “I don’t know if I ever told you that, but you’re an asset to your country. I think the weapon will be ready today, but you’ll have the school’s blessing to go if it’s not As long as you pass Dr. Kilgore’s test.”
Claire nodded. “Don’t worry about that.”
The three students stood in the field next to the funhouse. At two in the afternoon, the sun was hot overhead. They were in athletic gear, stretching and preparing for what came next.
Dr. Byron and Dr. Tharos stood behind the students.
“Where is he?” Jack asked, meaning Dr. Kilgore. “He knows we’re doing this today, right? Like, you didn’t mess up the scheduling, Claire?”
Jack didn’t look up as he spoke. He sat down and started stretching his hamstrings.
“He’s coming, Mr. Teams,” Dr. Byron spoke up. “He’s just inside, making sure everything is ready. If you three live through what comes after this, you owe him a severe debt of gratitude. The man has worked tirelessly to prepare you for your coming test.”
Jack switched legs. “He’s worked tirelessly to torture us. I feel like fire ants are running around inside my skin each time I move. We’ve been at this for days, If we do survive what comes after, I’m going to bring one of those ghosts, trap it inside that damn building, and then trap Dr. Kilgore in with it.”
Claire looked over her shoulder at Dr. Byron. “Sorry. We’re all a bit grumpy.”
The professor gave her a wink. “That’s just his usual expression.”
The door to the funhouse opened and Dr. Kilgore stepped out, looking like a mountain. “Back again. You must like it inside. Maybe you will sleep here tonight when everything is done?” He laughed as he walked across the grass to them.
Claire didn’t pay him any mind. Her body was bruised and hurting, but she’d managed to avoid the headshots she’d taken the first time. She hadn’t told Dr. Tharos or Dr. Byron anything, but she imagined Dean Pritcham had, and they’d shown up for moral support.
Somehow, this felt bigger to Claire than when the vampires had arrived at the university.
Because then you had more control, she thought. You were prepared. Here, in this, you have to get someone’s approval to move on—and that approval may also be for saving Frank’s life.
Claire got to her feet and glanced at Kilgore. “Can you give us a few moments?”
“Sure, sure. I will wait.” He smiled and stopped moving toward them.
Claire looked at the two stretching on the ground. “Let’s talk for just a minute, okay?”
Both hopped to their feet. They were sore, yes, but much more limber and stronger than they’d ever been in their life.
Maybe Byron is right. Maybe this is really making us better, despite how much it hurts, Claire thought as she backed up to give the group space between them and the instructors. What she had to say, she only wanted her team to hear.
They formed a small circle, and Claire met their eyes. “We haven’t beaten this funhouse yet, but we’ve gotten closer each time. We’re in there longer each time before it gets the better of us. That isn’t good enough, though, and I think each of you knows it.”
Nods met her, affirming what she was saying.
“We’re out of time,” Claire continued. “I wish we weren’t, but Frank needs us, and that fucking building is keeping me from him. I’m walking out the other side of that thing today, and then I’m going there to find him. If it was one of you’d down there, I’d do the exact same thing because we’re family. So, I need you both to dig inside yourselves and do whatever it takes to get out of there on your own today. We haven’t got any other choice. Frank needs us. You know the plan. We think that when we get closer to places they don’t want us in there, they will send more people to attack us. They don’t want us in those places because there’s light, and the moment we find that, Marissa is going to tear through those fake spells, and we’re ending this whole endeavor. I remember how to get there, to the place where they attack us the heaviest.”
Claire put her hand into the circle. “You with me?”
Two hands piled on top of hers.
“Let’s do this,” Jack told them. “I’m tired of Kilgore’s stupid smile.”
“Let’s go help Frank,” Marissa agreed.
Claire straightened up and looked at Dr. Kilgore. “They’re going to need to hire a new trainer after today.”
“No, no,” Dr. Kilgore shook his head while smiling. “I will just need to make things harder. Come, come. You have an audience today. Do not want to disappoint.”
Claire led the way, and they entered Dr. Kilgore’s funhouse.
They moved into the small room as they had each time before. Claire’s muscles reminded her of each previous failure, the beatings that came in the darkness, and her and Jack’s inability to protect Marissa before she could make it through the spells.
Dr. Kilgore stood in front of the door that opened into the funhouse. “You remember what I told you, yes? You remember to listen to your senses?”
Claire nodded without taking her eyes off the door. “We’ll remember.” She thought of nothing but finding a way to trust her senses and ward off the coming attack. Doing that was the only way to get to Frank.
Dr. Kilgore twisted the doorknob, looking solemn as he did. He understands, Claire thought. He knows how serious this is to me. To us.
The trainer pulled the door open, revealing the darkness inside. “Good luck.”
Jack and Marissa assumed their positions behind Claire—Marissa in the middle with Jack pulling up the rear, forming protection around her. They stepped to the door, and Dr. Kilgore plopped the
notebook into Marissa’s hands. Claire only stared forward, confident about doing her part.
The three stepped into the darkness and heard the door close behind them.
They had made it farther than ever before last time, and Claire thought she knew where to go. She hoped so, at least. The three said nothing in the darkness, but Claire felt Marissa’s left hand latch onto one of her belt loops. Jack was in place behind her, and it was time for them to move.
Claire’s senses had become much more attuned to the darkness in this place, and she knew the attack was coming from her left. She ducked this time, just as she had the first time they entered the funhouse, but not with the intention of avoiding the punch or kick.
Her leg launched out quickly, and she connected hard with someone’s knee. She heard a muffled yell and felt the person drop by her outstretched leg. Claire popped back up, knowing that one of the villains was silenced, but that more were coming.
Jack whispered from behind her, “Nice job.”
Claire walked slowly, as they had practiced, right leg, then left. That way, they moved as a team, and no one would get accidentally left behind.
“Behind us,” Jack said in a harsh whisper. Claire didn’t move, knowing that to do so would leave Marissa open to attacks from the front. She was of primary importance here. They simply had to get to the light.
Claire heard three quick whacks in succession from behind, and then a body hit the floor.
“One more down,” Jack whispered.
They all knew what was coming. More. The first two had been dispatched quickly, but Dr. Kilgore hadn’t set this up to get easier as they moved forward. No, it was about to get much, much harder.
The group walked deeper into the darkness.
Claire sensed the two people on her left and right; she could actually hear their quiet breathing. “Left!” she shouted as she moved right, Jack knowing exactly what to do. Claire ducked again but didn’t strike out with her leg. The person felt too close for that. Instead, she snapped her arm out and hit the attacker in the stomach.
Paranormal University- Second Semester Page 16
