Circus of the Dead: Book 1
Page 7
Juliette grins and bounces out of the little house, leaving me and Lorena alone. The house seems smaller with her gone.
“She is a force to be reckoned with,” Lorena says.
“That she is.” I could definitely see myself hanging out with Juliette, but Amy scares me a bit. “How many people are on the island full time?” I ask.
“About fifty. Fifty-one in two weeks when Amy has her baby.”
“Does she have them here? With no medical help?”
“Don’t underestimate Ruth. She is a terrific nurse. I swear that she’s magical.”
“Maybe she should magic Amy some birth control.”
Lorena laughs. “Maybe. Amy reminds me a lot of Mary Poppins. She once told me that she wants twenty kids.”
Twenty kids would drive me nuts. Who on earth wants that?
“Why do some people live here full time, and others don’t?”
Lorena sighs and hesitates. “Well, you’ll figure it out sooner or later. And the sooner you learn, the safer you’ll be. Luke didn’t want you to know this yet, but I think you should.”
She points to the chair next to the table. Finally some answers about the weirdness.
“Know what?” I sink onto the chair. She pulls a couple of sodas out of the fridge and sits across from me. She hands me a strawberry one. It tastes too sweet.
“This is a cursed place.” She says this with a dead straight face.
I don’t believe in curses. Mom did, but even as a child, I realized she was a little whacked. But Juliette seems to think curses are normal, too, so maybe people here are just superstitious.
“How so?” I ask.
“Well, the full-timers here are stuck. They can’t leave, just like you.”
“But I’m leaving in two weeks.” I don’t care what Mom said about me staying for the whole summer.
“No, you’re not.” She waves her hand dismissively.
“They can get on a boat just as easily as I can.”
“No, they can’t, and neither can you. A deep magic keeps them tied here.”
I don’t believe her. But I’m not quite sure what I think because nothing makes sense. Magic isn’t real, but the people here seem to believe they are stuck. Though, not everyone.
“What about Benny and the other people who are only here during the circus?”
Lorena stares at me, suddenly serious. “Do you trust me?”
At this point, I’m not sure she’s all there, so no, but if I say no, she won’t give me any answers.
“Yes,” I lie.
“I’m going to tell you something that you might not believe, but you need to understand what you’re up against.”
“Okay.” More superstitious crap, I’m sure.
“Benny and a lot of the other circus entertainers are ghosts. They become corporeal twice a month. Their job is to kill those who attend the circus.”
My mind races to understand. “What’s corporeal?”
“They become tangible. Solid. You can touch them and wouldn’t know they’re ghosts.”
I can’t help it. I laugh. This goes way beyond superstitious.
She shakes her head. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but it’s true, and the sooner you accept it, the better chance you have at protecting yourself.”
“So you’re telling me that Benny really did try to kill me?”
“I’m not quite sure there. Yes, their job is to kill, but not Benny, which is why all of us were so surprised when he trapped you in with Fiona.”
“If Benny is a ghost, and ghosts kill those who attend the circus, why doesn’t he?” This is all a load of crap. But I have to go along with this or I’ll never understand how things work here. I’m obviously stuck for a few weeks, maybe even longer.
“Some sort of deal with Samuel. But, maybe they had a falling out. Honestly, if Benny had tried to hand you over to one of the ghosts, none of us would’ve been surprised. That’s what Benny does. But he never goes straight for the kill himself.”
“He was with me all night. Why didn’t he try earlier? He could’ve fed me to the snake man.” I shudder at that memory, the poor girl being attacked by that snake. That could’ve been me. Well, if Lorena is telling the truth. What am I talking about? She can’t possibly be telling the truth.
“Because they can only kill as the sun rises.”
I lean forward. “Look, Lorena, I like you a lot, but I don’t believe a word of this.”
She sighs. “I know. But you will. I just want to make sure you understand your fate. Be careful on the new moon. It’s the only time ghosts can kill. I like you and don’t want to see you dead.”
“I won’t be around for the new moon.” Sweat drips down my back from the heat. The things she says don’t make sense, but there is obviously something weird going on. I just have to figure out what—and it won’t end up with a bunch of supernatural crap. There is a logical reason for all of this. Well, maybe not logical, but definitely not ghosts.
She grips my hands. “Dear, you drew the eight of swords. You’re as trapped here as everyone else.”
I jerk my hands from hers. “No. That’s not true. I’m getting out of here.” Her and her ghost stories. They can’t be true, but if that is what everyone here believes, then I’m in danger from a bunch of nutters.
She lets out a breath. “After two weeks, at the full moon, you come and see me, and I’ll fill you in on the rest of the details.”
The noise is almost deafening at Amy’s house. Kids are loud. No wonder Juliette moved out.
“Tell me more about California.” Lizette puts a hand on my arm and blinks her wide blue eyes at me. She’s fourteen, I think. Annette and Collette, just younger than her, wait for my answer as well. The three boys, all under the age of eight, play with cars on the floor under the table. Juliette holds the youngest, Babette, who is just over a year old, and chats animatedly with her mom.
“The weather there is nice, not hot like here,” I say.
“It’s not always hot here, just in the summer,” Lizette says.
“Well, at home, the weather is always perfect. Not humid like this, either.”
Annette sighs. “Must be nice. Do you know any movie stars?”
I shake my head. Which isn’t exactly true. I know a few, which comes with the territory of Dad’s career, but I don’t want to answer a thousand questions about them. Mostly they are normal people with the odd asshole thrown in.
Amy gets up and bustles about the kitchen. She comes back with plates of brownies and ice cream. The kids are polite as they take their desserts, which surprises me. I expected there to be pandemonium.
I like this family a lot and am grateful for the normalcy even though it’s not my normal. No talk of ghosts or death.
“Time for bed,” Amy declares after everyone is done eating. There is a collective moan, and I grin.
“Come on,” Juliette says. “I’ll walk you back home.”
Annette grabs my hand. “You’ll come back tomorrow, right?”
I look to Amy. “You’re welcome anytime,” she says.
“Of course. See you tomorrow.”
After I get home, I don’t know what to do with myself. I absolutely cannot stay here. Mom and Dad have no idea what this is like. There has to be a way out. Luke took me out on that dinghy the first day and tried to get me away. I can try that. I’ll just do it myself.
Mom said I couldn’t come back, but if I showed up at home, they wouldn’t send me back here. This much I know.
I have an emergency credit card that has a limit of a thousand dollars. I’ll use that to buy a plane ticket to L.A. and Uber home. Getting to the airport could be a problem, though.
Well, I just need to take the boat to the ferry dock. Then I’ll flag down a car and hitch a ride into the city. Yeah. That will work. It’s dark now, but as soon as it’s light enough, I’ll go.
I look around my newly decorated shack. Seems a shame to abandon it, but maybe the next girl who is tr
apped here will have a nicer place to stay than I did. Because there is no way in hell I’m staying here.
By this time tomorrow night, I’ll be sitting on the shores of the Pacific once again.
Chapter Eleven
I wake up a thousand times during the night and have no idea what time it is. Finally, I get out of bed. It’s still dark, and I’m not going to leave now, but I pack up my bag and find a notebook in one of the cupboards. It has all kinds of crazy spells, and one page holds what looks like a dried blood stain. I shiver.
I tear out a blank page and write Juliette a long drawn out note explaining I was so happy and grateful for her friendship, but this is not the place for me. Then, I wait. Lights flick on in Elias’s houseboat, but he doesn’t come out.
About a half hour later, light creeps into my window. I hoist my duffle over my shoulder. The air is thick with humidity once again but almost cold, and the frogs in the swamp are making a racket.
“Where ya goin’, little girl?”
Elias is sitting on his porch, whistling.
“I’m getting out of here.”
He chuckles. “No, yer not. Yer trapped jist like the rest of us.”
I hesitate. It is one thing for Lorena to tell me the stories, but to have another corroborate is something else altogether.
“Why can’t I leave?”
He moves to the edge of his porch and leans against a post. “You don’t know? This island, and the big green skull, it keeps people. You ain’t never gettin’ away.”
“How?”
He takes a long drag on his cigarette and blows out the smoke. “Voodoo, little girl. It’s buried deep in the ground here. If the island don’t want to let you go, you ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
“But you can drive the ferry.”
“Only to the docks. If I tried to escape, I’d die. The island knows.”
“You’re lying.” I trudge down the boarded path and into the never ending shades of green. I don’t know why everyone is trying to keep me here.
“Yer funeral,” he replies.
The swamp is still shadowy, and I watch out for dangerous snakes, but my path is surprisingly clear. It’s muddy though, and dirt coats my toes. A tree rises up next to me, and I’m momentarily distracted. Something about the way the branches curve into one another. Would the island try to kill me if I left?
No. That’s stupid. But Elias’s words haunt me, repeating over and over in my head. The island knows, he said.
I pass by the path to Samuel’s house, and I’m strangely drawn to his place, desire flooding my stomach. I hesitate. What would he do if I show up at his door? I don’t even know what I would say. Hey, I’m incredibly attracted to you. Wanna make out? I tear my eyes away from his house. No, I have to get out of here.
I trip over a stick and hit the ground hard, scratching up my palms. I welcome the pain. It reminds me that this island is toxic and bad even though inside I’m feeling like I shouldn’t want to go.
I shake my head and rush toward Luke’s. I carefully lower my bag into his dinghy. I don’t want to wake him, so I use the oars to quietly ease myself away from the docks. The air smells moldy.
I grew up on the water, so I know how to drive any number of boats. It’s going to be loud, but I risk it anyway. I pull the cord to start the engine.
Crickets.
I try again. And again. And again.
Nothing.
Crap.
Well, I’m strong. I’ll just row myself back to the mainland. I pull on the oars, and the boat moves forward at an agonizingly slow pace. It’s like one of those dreams where I’m trying to run but am somehow trapped in molasses. I should’ve moved a ways, but I’ve only gone ten feet. The water bubbles around me. Frogs, probably.
I force the oars into the water again. I push with all my might for ten good strokes but only move another few feet. This is ridiculous.
I look to my left.
Still Luke’s boathouse.
Fear sinks into my chest. Maybe the bottom of the boat is stuck in mud. But that can’t be right, because my oars are pushing through the water. I lean back and sigh.
I don’t know what I’m going to do.
Eyeballs peek up from under the water. I swallow. I’m in a tiny boat, and I can’t move it. Another pair pops up on the other side of the boat. I freeze.
The smell of death floats in the air. The boat rocks suddenly, and I grip the edge. I’m scared to look over the side. Water splashes into the boat, and a foot that isn’t attached to a body disappears into the water. What on earth? I grip the oars and spin the boat around, heading back for Luke’s. The boat moves much faster, thank goodness.
An alligator head pokes up right in front of the boat, and I bite down a scream. I force the boat over him, and it sways back and forth, but I’m moving. The entire swamp seems to come alive. Splashes and snapping. I row as fast as I can.
I make it back, and the water around me is still writhing. I throw my duffle up onto the dock and take three deep breaths. I almost look down into the water but think better of it. I hoist myself up and hear the unmistakable sound of jaws snapping.
I glance down and bite back a scream. Bodies are sinking into the depths. Blank faces stare up at me with mouths stitched up like voodoo dolls. I squeeze my eyes shut. This is impossible. I peek once again, and the bodies are gone. The entire swamp has gone silent once again. There are no eyeballs, no splashing. It’s as if there isn’t a creature in the whole thing.
Did I imagine it?
Maybe.
The stinking voodoo symbols are everywhere. The circus is the epitome of a horror show. And even Lorena tried to tell me that Benny is a ghost and that I am trapped on the island because of some stupid fortune. Maybe there is something supernatural going on here.
No way.
I dismiss the thought and wipe sweat off my forehead. Clearly, I’ve been watching too much TV. Or listening to too many of Maddie’s stories.
The bodies might have just been gators, and I was letting my imagination run wild. But that doesn’t explain why my boat wouldn’t move.
I trudge back to my own little houseboat.
Those snakebites on that woman the first day I arrived looked real. The faces in the water staring up at me. The circus changed in an instant.
Maybe magic is real.
Chapter Twelve
Samuel calls out to me as I pass the path to his house. Blood rushes to my face. “Hey,” I call back and suddenly face a dilemma. I don’t want the humiliation of explaining what I was doing, but on the other hand, I really want to talk to him.
But, maybe he doesn’t want to talk to me. Maybe he’s just being polite.
Ugh. When did I become such a girl?
Probably when hot guys decided to talk to me. No, that’s not true. There were always plenty of good looking surfer boys. But none of them made me weak in the knees like Samuel does. I look around. It’s just me and Samuel. In the creepy swamp.
I adjust my duffle and stand a little taller. Talk to him, it is. I make my way down the path and stop just before his porch. He leans against a post, shirtless, with a coffee cup in hand. He smells clean like soap and laundry. I can’t help but stare at his body. He’s got abs that every woman would want to touch. I force myself to look up into his baby blues.
“What are you doing out so early?” he asks and glances at my bag. Frogs croak in the distance, and I look down into the swamp. A face stares back at me, and I quickly glance back up.
I let out a sigh and rub my hand along my shorts. The fabric is scratchy. “Trying to get out of here. You said yourself this was a dangerous place.”
He creases his eyebrows. “You really want to leave?”
“Yes.”
He looks off into the trees. Then he stares right at me. “The island…it won’t let you.”
“That’s what everyone keeps saying. That can’t possibly be true.”
A raccoon suddenly snatches a muffin from the table
next to Samuel and skitters away. He doesn’t even seem to notice.
He sets his coffee down on the table and moves toward me. I stand my ground, refusing to be intimidated, but I am, just a little. He takes both of my hands in his and stares deep into my eyes. For a second, I think he’s going to kiss me, and my brain races through what to do. Do I want him to kiss me? Yes. No. I don’t know. If he tries, I’ll duck away. I won’t let him take that from me until I’m ready.
“You are stunning, you know that?” His eyes are intense and smoldering.
My breath catches in my throat, and I don’t say anything. He takes a step back but doesn’t break our gaze. “But you still haven’t accepted the island and its magic. When you do, come see me. I’ll help you.”
“Why can’t you help me now?”
“Because, love, you wouldn’t believe me. Once you come to accept the magic, everything will make sense.”
I swallow. “Maybe I do believe. There is stuff I can’t explain.” I just haven’t figured out the logical, rational explanation for those things yet.
His eyes light up. “Well, then, I guess you’ll be seeing me sooner rather than later. At some point, it will not even be a question.”
He lets go of my hands, and I immediately miss his touch. He turns and saunters back onto his porch. I don’t want to leave, but he’s dismissed me.
“Hey, can I use your phone? I want to call my sister.”
He turns. “Oh, love, I’m sorry. The phones are down, and I don’t know when they’ll be back up. It could be weeks or even months.”
What? My stomach tightens. My family was my only lifeline to the island. Suddenly, my obsession with Samuel seems stupid. I should be focusing on my life outside of this wretched place. I rush away from Samuel. He probably thinks I’m crazy, but I don’t care. Everything is working against me.
I throw my duffle next to my bed and stare at the letter I left for Juliette. I tuck it away in a cupboard. I might not have escaped this time, but I will in two weeks, and that letter will come in handy.