Where the Truth Lives

by Mia Sheridan

  Her only choice was down.

  She had no idea if there was even anywhere to go, if she made it down those stairs or if it was a dead end where he’d trap her, handcuffing her again or something worse. But maybe if she could manage to escape, or even hide, he’d be unable to perform whatever sick ceremony he was attempting with one of his players gone.

  And she had to try to warn Reed. He was moving closer even now.

  Adrenalin pumped through Liza’s veins.

  As Axel raised the gasoline can again, busy with his chore, Liza dove out of her chair, heading for the steps. She heard Axel yell behind her and then a loud crash and a grunt of pain—his she thought—but she didn’t waste the seconds it would have taken to look back.

  She flew toward the stairs, jumping over them entirely, her feet contacting hard packed dirt as she went into a momentary crouch, springing to her feet and fleeing into the darkness below.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Reed followed the tire tracks with his light. It looked as if they stopped at the gate, and then turned and went back the way they’d come. Someone who’d gotten lost and taken a wrong turn? Possibly. Indecision caused sweat to bead.

  God, this could be nothing.

  If Axel had brought them all here, how had he gotten them inside? Then again, he’d used his strength to move dead bodies all over town and huck others from buildings. Reed shined his light beyond the gates. It looked as though the house was a good quarter mile back. He moved his light up, searching for a way past the fence, but the bars were made of solid iron, swirled with decorative elements that would make it impossible to squeeze through anywhere, the top featuring large spikes, sharp and covered in rust.

  Christ, just what he needed . . . to get skewered out here with no one knowing his location. He could shoot the lock off but . . . no, he couldn’t risk the noise of a gunshot.

  He looked through the bars of the fence once more. If Axel had found a way inside, he might have figured out another route from the back, but . . . Reed didn’t have time to search for that either.

  He dialed Ransom’s number again and when his voicemail came on, he spoke in low tones, telling him where he was and that if he found nothing, he’d be headed to meet them within the half hour.

  Reed left his car where it was, lacing up his boots and heading down toward the river where the fence turned into the woods.

  Fuck it was dark, practically pitch-black. Liza had mentioned a moon in her imaginings but there was no such light that night, any glow completely obscured by clouds and the cover of trees. Reed’s breath came quicker, whispers picking up around him. He knew it was just the wind moving through the branches, but he swore there were muffled words in there, whole conversation slipping past him as he moved.

  Christ, get a hold of yourself, Davies. He’d never been afraid of the dark. But here . . . there was a feeling. One he couldn’t explain, but some sixth sense reacted to nonetheless.

  Over the whispers in the wind, Reed heard the distinct sound of the river lapping the shore, and the movement of night creatures in the foliage around him. Another chill went down his spine as he fought his way through the overgrown brush, trying to walk as close to the border of the fence as possible, attempting not to rush and trip over something that couldn’t be seen.

  It took him twenty minutes to make it to the edge of the fence. He stood there for a moment, holding his light low while still trying to see the property beyond.

  An owl hooted in the woods and the soft snap of a twig had him sucking in a breath, his hand going to his weapon. His heart whooshed in his ears and he held himself still, listening. Nothing. After a moment he released a slow breath, lowering his hand, and raising his light again as he swept it over the dilapidated exterior.

  The place was in ruin.

  Completely deserted.

  Every ghost-hunters wet dream.

  Fuck!

  He’d just wasted forty minutes on a wild goose chase when he could have been among the search team.

  Still, he had to look inside, just in case. Reed picked up his foot, ready to step out of the cover of trees, past the edge of the fence.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Liza heard a crash behind her as she turned a corner, barely able to see as the filtered lantern light behind her diminished. Her breath came sharply, heart hammering as she rounded another corner in what was a labyrinth of underground rooms, one wide open space flowing to the next, each growing dimmer and dimmer as her lungs burned in her chest. She heard Axel behind her, his steps slow. “Angel,” he called. “Liza, there’s nowhere to go. Come back. Don’t be afraid. You’ve got this all wrong, Angel. This is going to be the most wonderful night of your life.”

  Liza came to a wall, turning left and right frantically. He was right, there was nowhere to go. Only backward. She’d come to a dead end.

  What do I do? What do I do?

  Panic surged as her eyes lit on what looked like a round door near the floor. A tunnel. The water runoff tunnel. Gasping, she bolted to it, running her hands along its rim, finding a handle on the side and pulling with all her might as a burst of foul-smelling rot hit her nose. “Angel,” Axel called. He was closer. In the room just beyond.

  Liza looked into the pit of darkness in front of her, frozen with dread. It was her only chance. Tears streamed down Liza’s face as she climbed into the tunnel, her hand landing in a pool of slimy wetness. Something skittered in the darkness beyond. She eased the door closed, crawling forward, his voice coming from behind her, but even through the closed metal, she could hear that he’d entered that final underground room. He’d see the tunnel door in a few seconds, if that. It was either go deeper or allow him to capture her. Liza crawled forward, slime squelching beneath her palms and her knees, her face breaking through a thick spiderweb as she moved just far enough that the small amount of light from the room wouldn’t penetrate to where she was. Liza rubbed her face against her shoulder, stopping as the door squeaked slowly open, pressing herself against the wall of the tunnel. Something crawled under the collar of her shirt, scurrying down the back of her neck as Liza’s breath hitched, her muscles quivering as she forced herself not to move.

  “Li-za,” he singsonged, his voice echoing through the darkness. “Liza, Liza, Li-za. Elizabeth!” She saw the very faint outline of the circular entrance but knew he couldn’t see her where she sat shivering, her knees pulled to her chest, holding her breath as tears tracked down her cheeks, waiting. Axel sighed. “We don’t have time for this, Angel. I wish you could understand. You’d come back if you did.” He paused for what felt like a long time as though he was considering what to do. The spider under her shirt scuttled down her back. She felt another one run across her hip. There were more all around her, on her. There had to be more. “This won’t change anything.” Liza’s heart sank as a scream rose inside her. “I know you don’t like the dark, Angel. But if you refuse to be a part of our ceremony, then I have to make sure you won’t interrupt it. It will be over soon. Even from here, you’ll rise.” And with that, he shut the door, the lever dropping into place.

  No, nononononono! She rushed forward, crawling back toward the door even as she heard his footsteps moving away, simultaneously batting harshly at her back, brushing at her hip.

  She splayed her hands against the cold metal, pressing, her heart hammering, fear rising inside her like the swells of a storm. Liza was locked in the blackness. Alone.

  She sat back against the wall again, rubbing her back frantically over the hard surface to ensure whatever had been crawling on her skin was crushed dead. She brought her inner elbow to her mouth and bit down on the fabric of her sweatshirt, muffling a scream.

  “Liza,” Mady said softly.

  She shook her head, closing her eyes even though she couldn’t see in the pitch black of the place where she sat. “You’re not really here. You can’t help me.”

  “No, I’m not here. And I’m not Mady. This is your voice, Liza. It’s always be
en your voice. You have to trust it. Claim it, Liza. It belongs to you.” The voice grew fainter, moving away. “It’s time for me to go. You were always the strong one. Trust yourself now. You know what you have to do.”

  Liza let out a small sob, opening her eyes, shaking her head back and forth against what she knew was the only way. She had to crawl forward. A fresh bout of petrified tears poured from her eyes. Think! Think! This tunnel . . . it was a water runoff tunnel. This house had been built around it. That was its purpose, which meant it let out somewhere below, near the river. Freedom. The entrance was blocked now, locked by Axel.

  But there’s an exit.

  You just have to get to it.

  “I can’t do it,” she whispered brokenly to herself, fear rolling through her body in wracking tremors.

  Yes, you can. You can do it, because you have to. You can do it, because Reed and Arryn and Sabrina and Milo are depending on you.

  Reed.

  God, Reed.

  If she didn’t try to crawl toward help, Reed might step on that tripwire, he’d be blown to pieces. He’d be dead because she hadn’t tried. Her soul withered at the thought. She let out another quiet sob, picturing him in her mind’s eye, his smile filling her head, her heart.

  Liza had never had faith in forever. That idea had always been far too painful. Because she’d suffered and she didn’t want to believe that suffering never ended. But in that moment as she pictured the man she loved, she wanted desperately to believe. She wanted to clutch to the idea that their souls were immortal and that there was such a thing as eternity, because she wanted to spend it with him.

  The realization gave her strength, purpose, something to fight mightily for. To fight monsters and demons and whatever might lie in wait in the seemingly endless darkness before her. Liza turned her body away from the locked door. She put her hands down on the wet, slimy floor of the tunnel and she crawled farther into the hole.

  How far do you think it is? One hundred feet? Two? What if the end has been sealed over somehow? What if the exit is underwater?

  No, don’t think of that. Just move.

  She crawled forward, feeling the downward slope of the tunnel, tiny rocks and sharp objects stabbing the fleshy parts of her palms and digging into her knees, her hands squishing into gelatinous puddles she didn’t want to think about. It smelled like rot and decay and dead things, both fresh and ancient. A piece of spiderweb caught on her lip, and she tucked her head to protect her face. Some creature let out a high-pitched shriek that echoed against the walls. Liza swallowed back a scream. Just a rat or a squirrel. Keep moving, just keep moving. That’s right. Reed’s depending on you. Arryn and Milo and Sabrina need you too.

  A hissing sound vibrated ahead and Liza drew back in terror, her teeth chattering, every muscle in her body primed to flee from that sound. Serpents in the dark, watching her as she crawled past them blindly. Of course there were snakes hiding in there. Because it was dark and wet and there were plenty of rodents for them to hunt. Liza scooted back, sobbing silently.

  No, no, I can’t do it.

  What’s worse? A snake? Even twenty? Or living with the fact that Reed is blown to bits and you might have saved him? Arryn burning in a raging inferno just like Mady did?

  No!

  Liza took in a shaky breath, putting one hand forward and then the other.

  She moved ahead, her hand slipping as she picked up speed, a low keening sound coming from her chest, vibrating. As she set her hand down, a snake slithered over it—fat and heavy— and she cried out, turning her head, sliding her hand from beneath its body and hurtling forward. She pressed her lips together and shut her eyes, waiting for the whip-quick strike, the sharp bite of fangs embedding in her skin. She heard another snake, two, three, maybe more, slithering away as she moved past them, her hands and knees pounding over the rocks, the clink of stone against stone echoing around her, her own heartbeat hammering in her head.

  She lunged forward, her palms slipping on the sludge beneath her, something jagged slicing into her wrist as she caught herself.

  Something furry brushed past her ankle as she moved and she let out a small, panicked gasp, kicking backward, bile filling her throat. She almost heaved, but held it back, continuing forward, not stopping.

  The darkness was absolute, so all-consuming that monsters swelled up from the emptiness before her, causing her to whimper and draw back in terror, her muscles going rigid. They were worse, so much worse than rats or snakes. They would rip her apart slowly, chewing her flesh, there in the blackness where her screams could not be heard. She was going to die alone.

  Stop!

  That’s just your mind playing tricks on you. There are no monsters here. Picture Reed. Hold his face before you. Clutch to that.

  A breath shuddered from Liza and she continued forward. If the end is sealed, I’ll have to turn back and make this trip again. Fear pommeled her chest, a drumbeat of dread. It was unthinkable, it was—no! Picture Reed. Only him.

  One hand forward then the other, each inch closer, closer.

  A gray light emerged from the gloom and Liza let out a disbelieving sob of joy, of hope, crawling faster, not caring about the wounds on her palms. An explosion of rodents skittered all around her suddenly, as she disrupted a nest. Liza threw her body forward, as the creatures shrieked and brushed past her in the darkness, their sharp nails ripping open her exposed skin. Small bodies crunched beneath her knees and her palm landed on one, the rodent emitting a death wail that quickly ended as its body squished beneath the impact. One latched onto her hip and she reached around, tearing it off and throwing it against the side of the tunnel, it’s body smacking wetly against the stone. Liza shook her head back and forth, humming a garbled sound of fear and disgust and horror as she raced closer to that muted circle of gray.

  Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop.

  She smelled river water, the scent of plants and foliage and mud, crawling so fast, her arm went out from under her and her chin slammed into the floor of the tunnel. She groaned, lifting her head, and continuing forward until the muted glow grew bigger and bigger, the sound of the skittering creatures dissipating. She felt air on her face, and her relief was so intense that she began sobbing again, her head emerging from that dark hole into the sweet night air. There was ground beneath her and she spilled out onto it, taking only seconds to lay there, sobs wracking her body as she fisted the blessed mud under her palms.

  Liza pulled herself to her feet. The river dropped off sharply to her right, the only path uphill was through the woods. More darkness. You can do it.

  Yes. I can.

  Liza stepped back into the darkness and she didn’t just walk. Liza ran, her breath coming in sharp gasps as she struggled for purchase, slipping in the mud, going down on her knees, pulling herself up. The earth grew less slippery the farther she went, as dead leaves and dry grass covered that higher ground. Liza’s muscles burned as she ran straight uphill, as fast as her body would allow, grunting with the extreme effort. Branches and foliage brushed past her, surprisingly gentle, feeling like the hands of those who may have made this trip before her, encouraging, guiding her forward. Go, go. There’s so little time.

  It was the journey of a warrior. It was the passage of a woman whose heart was so filled with love that it billowed over and suffocated all those other voices, the ones who’d told her she was weak and without power. The ones who’d deemed her unlovable. Soiled. Ruined.

  She was not ruined. She was not.

  There was light ahead, she could see it through the thick brush and she raced toward it, somehow avoiding the rocks and dips in the ground. She emerged through the edge of the forest with a sob of victory, stumbling, but remaining upright.

  She saw movement ahead, the outline of a man as he began to step toward the house, toward the tripwire he didn’t know was almost directly under his feet.

  “Reed!” she screamed. “Stop!”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  Arr
yn’s muscles tensed as the man named Axel climbed the short flight of steps and stepped back into the chamber where they were. Alone. He’s alone. She pulled in a tremulous breath as he walked to where she lay on the ground, still handcuffed to the chair. She’d watched Charles Hartsman give something to Liza with his feet, watched—incredulously—as she’d used the small tool to free herself, Arryn’s heart beating out of her chest with terror. Liza had done it. Somehow, she’d done it, and when she’d run for the stairs that led down into some lower part of whatever hell they were in and Axel had taken chase, Arryn had used her toes for leverage and thrown her body in front of him, colliding with the large man, both of them slamming to the ground.

  He’d been up and after Liza in ten seconds, but Arryn had bought her that much. At least that. And here he was, no Liza in sight, which meant it’d worked? She’d escaped? Or had Axel hurt her? Please, please don’t let that be it.

  She’d watched, terrified and dumbstruck, as Charles maneuvered his bleeding body in an obvious attempt at escape in the few minutes Axel was gone. And though he’d managed to raise his feet to his mouth, grasping something in his teeth, he hadn’t achieved freedom. He now simply hung from his chains, his chest slick with sweat, a few beads rolling down the side of his face.

  Was that why he’d passed a tool to Liza first? Because she required less time to use it, and Charles needed a distraction to free himself from the position he was in?

  Axel lifted Arryn easily, setting her chair upright. Blood rushed to her head, making her dizzy. She watched him as he stood straight, muttering something unintelligible. He turned around, his gaze going to each of them in turn. “Stupid,” he said. “So stupid. But what’s done is done.”

  “Where is she?” Arryn asked, afraid to hear the answer.

  He turned back to her, his eyes narrowing. “She’s okay. She climbed into the old sewer. I had to lock it. She left me no choice.”