Night Terrors (Sarah Beauhall Book 4) (14 page)

“No more than a day,” Edith said, smiling. “Now be a good girl, lay back and close your eyes.”

I sighed again, they were so acting like lunatics. I did what they asked, however. Right before I slipped out of consciousness I noticed that Edith leaned over me and grabbed Gram by the hilt. She was wearing oven mitts.

What in the seven hells was that about?

Twenty-one

I found myself in a foreign place, strange and dangerous. I was dressed in civilian clothes, jeans, T-shirt and my Docs. No Gram, though. That was a shock. There was something else, however; a presence that throbbed in the back of my mind. A powerful object that whispered to me, called to me. It was the book—Katie’s diary. I had it locked in the closet down in the Kent apartment, but I could feel it.

I walked down deserted streets, trying not to be totally freaked out. There were things in the shadows, things that watched me with hunger in their eyes. Some of them were large, bigger than a dog, but most were smaller, rat-like things that scurried away as I approached. Twice I turned to find a shadow creeping up on me, but the light from my gaze sent it back into the deeper shadows.

After a few minutes I realized it wasn’t my gaze. It was the runes on my forehead. The runes that Odin had marked me with the day I saved him from those giants. The runes that allowed me to have flashes of insight, moments of clarity.

I shuffled toward the center of the street, away from the deeper shadows as the sun continued to fade. I had no real desire to enter any of the buildings, but instinct told me I didn’t want to be caught out in the open when the last light faded. If I had Gram I’d feel different, but Edith had taken Gram from me. Was it to prevent me from hurting myself while I slept, or was there some more nefarious meaning? I shook my head, trying to clear the rising despair.

Edith wasn’t out to get me. No more than Mary, or any of my other friends. It had to be exhaustion … or perhaps the general depression I was drowning in.

I sped up, looking from side to side, trying to find a building I could hole up in while I waited for the dawn. My feet began to feel leaden as the shadows pushed closer, narrowing the band of street for me to run down, pell-mell.

A flutter to my rear and the gut-wrenching dread caused me to spin, the light of the runes arcing a bright red line across a shadowy figure that had risen behind me to strike. It was something like a great bear, but with three heads and claws like knives. The red light severed one head and burned a slash across its body like a laser. It stumbled back, black blood spattering the ground between us.

Eaters ran from the blackness around us, dashing in to gobble up the blood. I’d seen this before. These were spirits, haunts that fed off the spirits or energy of the living, or the remains of each other. I felt bile rise in my throat as more, larger scavengers emerged from the alleys around us and brought the great bear-thing down.

It didn’t go quietly. I stumbled back several steps as it tore at its attackers, two heads snapping into wisps of smoke that held malevolent intent. But something greater was coming. A cold wash of fear fell over me and I suppressed an urge to vomit. Carrion and pain. That’s what was coming; something so far beyond the bear-thing that my mind was having a hard time staying in the game. A whiteness began to cloud my eyes and I let my arms fall to my side, weak and lifeless.

Run,
a voice whispered in my head. There was a moment of bright golden light, a spear of power that pierced the fog and caught the corner of my eye. I spun and sprinted down the cobbled street ignoring the stream of eaters that flowed toward the feast and headed in the direction of the flickering golden light.

For the first dozen or more steps I had no other thought than to run and hide. The terror drove me on blindly. Once I was far enough away, the sudden wash of fear left me and I slowed, exhausted. I’d had fluffier nightmares in my time, and I’d battled a dragon. Whatever was there, whatever was coming to feed was beyond my wildest fears. At least I didn’t pee myself this time.

The golden light winked out, but I had a good idea of the direction now. The city streets were giving way to parks and open ground. In the distance, there was a small outcropping and what had to be a cave. That’s where the light had come from. There was safety there. An ally perhaps.

The cave led to a series of roughhewn tunnels—chopped out of the raw earth—with dangling roots and crawling things. For a moment, the peace and confidence the golden light had brought me had fallen away. This was a place of death and decay. A flash of stumbling across Katie’s broken body clawing its way from a moldering grave rose up in me, and I nearly froze once again.

Move,
the whisper came again. I’d come to a complete halt at the intersection of three tunnels—one ran downward out of sight; one upward, which made no sense as I’d not gone down and the surrounding area had not risen, as far as I had seen on my way here. The third tunnel was likely my best bet. It was wider and ran forward with a smooth tunnel and torchlight ahead. It seemed the right thing to do.

Left,
the voice said again, as I took a step straight ahead to the well-lit tunnel.

I looked around. The left tunnel went down into darkness. There was no real sense of well-being there, only damp and cold. I took three more steps into the clear tunnel and stopped beside the first torch, looking ahead.

Back, dear god, back,
the voice begged me. I stopped, looked around again and shook my head. All my senses told me to go forward to safety. Even the runes had no opinion here. But the voice had saved me from whatever was coming on the surface. Should I trust it? Or was it luring me back to be eaten?

I reached out and took the torch from the sconce to my right. A little part of my mind wanted me to listen to that voice. There was something familiar about it. It wasn’t Katie, but it had a certain timbre, a specific pitch I almost recognized.

The next step down the tunnel in front of me came without conscious thought. My body was going on autopilot and all sense said to go forward.

I guess it was the stubborn streak, and what da said was my innate need to be contrary that saved me in the end. I turned back once again. The tunnel led up a just a little ways ahead and it seemed sunlight streamed out. Only a few more steps forward and I’d be able to see the sun again. I tried to shift the torch to my left hand but found that I couldn’t let go of it. I grabbed it with my left hand, attempting to pry it out of my right, and the world shifted. What had appeared to be a torch was a winding tendril with a glowing tip, and it had wrapped itself around my right arm and was ever so gently tugging me forward.

The image of the sunlight exit wavered, and for a split second I could see another image. There at the end of the tunnel was an enormous gelatinous mass—writhing and pulsing with fairy lights. I could see into the translucent form where corpses, human and otherwise, hung suspended inside, each in a different state of decay. As I watched horrified, a small human skull was pushed from the undulating body to hit the cave floor with a
crack
, and roll toward me. The bone was polished and shone white in the glow of the lights.

The floor around me was littered with broken skulls and bones of a thousand other victims, each digested by this great eating blob. And the tendril pulled me forward another step—so close I could lunge forward into the muck.

I pulled back, but the tendril stretched lightly and another shot forward, wrapping around my right leg. I jerked to the right, using my left hand to support my right, and smashed the glowing tip of the tendril into the cave wall. The glowing bulb at the end exploded in a spray of light and pain.

The creature gurgled as the tendril ripped backward, leaving ripped flesh in its wake.

Pain flared from both the burning spray and the tearing flesh of my right arm. I twisted, stamping down on the tendril that had captured my right leg and it burst like a water balloon, more acidic fluids splashed my boots and jeans.

I stumbled back three steps, the pain finally destroying the illusion before me. Three more steps and I’d left whatever part of myself that was in this world behind forever.

I had no trouble making my way back to the intersection after that. The monster had plenty who would wander down its passage to keep it growing, I’m sure. But not me, not this day. I juked toward the lower hall and staggered down, letting the moist air take the edge off my burning flesh.

At the very bottom the tunnel opened into an immense cavern with a clear lake. Stalactites hung from the ceiling and the walls were adorned by many similar features. I rushed forward into the shallow water, realizing the alkaline water would offset the acidity of the gelatinous goo all over me. Bathing my wounds helped immensely. The pain didn’t magically disappear, but the burning stopped.

I lay on the edge of the lake panting and trying to clear my head. Part of me wanted to sleep, but I realized I was asleep. In my room at Circle Q. Edith had given me something to sleep and here I was.

Get up,
the voice said again, and I struggled to my feet. So far, it was batting a thousand. I tried to ignore the way my right arm didn’t want to work, and the way my feet and legs felt raw and weeping. I looked around, saw a golden flicker to the left side of the lake and began making my way around.

The next tunnel was crystalline, fetid and abandoned but with a hint of something lurking, something hungry. My thoughts raced with an urgency that had no specific focus, but which drove me forward nonetheless. The voice did not return, but the very air grew more visceral.

Eventually I became aware of other entities sharing my tunnels, hunters and hunted. There was a force, a malevolent hunger that dogged my trail. It followed me through my sleep, never drawing nearer, but always there, in the back of my mind, a presence that spoke of pain and death.

Once more, before I woke, just as the crystalline tunnels began to fade, the voice came to me one final time.

She is not here,
it said, full of sorrow and pain.
Do not return.

Then the sudden light of a new day flooded the room where I slept. I moaned, covering my face with my arms. First thing I really noticed was that my limbs weren’t burned, physically in any case. I felt drained and weaker than normal, like maybe I had been battling the flu or something. But I distinctly remembered the burns. I blinked my eyes open and moaned.

Julie stood over me, the blankets I’d tacked up over the windows in her hands.

“Time to face the world again,” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed and brushing the hair from my eyes. “Time to see your daughter, and time to talk about next steps.”

I sat up and she reached for me, pulling me into a hug.

“I know you miss her,” she said. “But you can’t give up your life. You have things you need to do.”

I cried then, letting the grief and anguish I’d been holding inside flood out in hot, wet tears. What scared me the most was the undeniable feeling that I had narrowly eluded horror beyond my imagination. Not the gelatinous mass. That wasn’t a thinking creature. No, the thing that had scared me so bad was when the three-headed bear had fallen. The thing that pursued me through the crystalline tunnels at the end. I was being hunted, or rather, something hunted for the thing I hunted.

My deepest fear was that this entity was death, pursuing Katie. No matter what the voice had said, I knew I was right. Katie had been there, had passed through those lands at some point. The runes throbbed with a comforting assurance. I just needed a way to find her.

I’d slipped sideways in my dreams. I knew it in my soul. My dreams were merging with that place of eaters and wandering spirits. I wondered if every dreamer went to this world from time to time. Was this the source of nightmares, the land of the fear? Or was it reserved to those marked by ancient gods, claimed by magic swords, or on the verge of losing their one true love?

Twenty-two

Apparently I’d slept for thirty-two hours. I was stiff and sore, but a hot shower and a steaming mug of chocolate and coffee had me almost feeling human again. I sat at the kitchen table, struggling to focus, reliving moments of my dreams in my head while the three Circle Q women sat with me.

Edith refreshed my coffee, Mary slid a second helping of scrambled eggs in front of me, and Julie upended a bottle of chocolate syrup over my coffee until there was barely room to dip a spoon in to stir it.

“Thanks,” I said, glancing at the three of them each in turn. “Thanks for everything.”

Edith patted my hand, Mary smiled, and Julie sat back, crossing her arms across her chest.

“I’m giving you thirty more minutes to get your shit together, then we’re heading out.”

I looked at her, watched the way her eyes danced, and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

She nodded back and took up her own cup of coffee. The three of them chatted about things that needed doing. Mary was going to run out to the Grange for a bit to talk to one of the other farmers out here about leasing him twenty or so acres.

“I’m just too beat to do much more farming,” she said with a smile. “I’ll keep the horses, but there’s nothing wrong with letting Lester and his boys put in some wheat. We’ll both do all right, I reckon.”

We spent the next thirty minutes on minutiae, and I loved it. It let me settle my head before the drive out to Black Briar. By the time I’d polished off the food and coffee I was ready to face the world. I went in the back, changed into my normal attire, and came out to meet Julie at the truck. Of course, I’d brought Gram. I’d decided it was stupid of me to ever go anywhere without her, honestly.

Nidhogg had named me her Fist, whatever that meant, and there was something hunting Katie, or me … or both. Julie just watched me for a minute then motioned me to her truck. As I slid in, I set a sheathed Gram on the seat to my left. I looked back as we started the truck and saw that Julie had her shotgun behind the seat. All right then. We were in agreement.

On the ride out to Gold Bar, Julie filled me in on the last several days while I had gone mentally AWOL. Katie’s condition had improved to the point that the doctors considered her stable and had suggested that she be moved to a long-term care facility. There was nothing physically wrong with her that they could detect. She just wouldn’t wake up.