Viator (The Viator Chronicles Book 1) (35 page)

Gary kept walking through the forest, heading to higher ground along the winding trail. Erin scrambled after him. He seemed focused on the path ahead and didn’t appear to notice that she was there, following him. She didn’t try to talk to him.

The sound of rushing water grew louder, and just ahead a river cut through the forest. The moment she saw it she stopped. She knew where they were. The river was about thirty feet wide, swift and deep in places, shallow in others, with boulders scattered across. Some of the stones were nearly submerged, and they looked slick and treacherous. She felt a sharp pain in her chest at the realization: This was where she had followed William the day he’d died. Gary walked up to the shore and watched the torrent rush past.

Erin knew he was going to cross the river, just as William had done. She hadn’t been able to save her husband, and now Gary would cross, and he would die, too. She couldn’t save him. There was no hope for him, and he was corrupt. She knew that now. There was nothing she could do.

She heard a whisper in her mind. “I see so much mercy inside you, stronger than a sword. Where there’s mercy, you’ll find hope.”

She didn’t feel any mercy. He could go to the devil.

A chill wind blew, and Gary groaned. He looked around, and Erin saw the fear on his face. When he saw her his eyes widened as if he hadn’t realized she was there. He shivered and took a step into the river. If he crossed, would mortifers find him and take him, as they had tried to do with her? Mortifers would give him no mercy. Could she simply stand by and let him die in torment?

She grabbed his jacket sleeve. “Gary, no. Don’t go across.”

“What?” Trickles of sweat ran down his face. She knew he was disoriented and terrified.

“Gary, let’s go back—we can go back that way,” she said, pointing back the way they had come. “We can make it.”

He looked at her with confusion and shook his head. “No, I’ve got to get over there.” He pointed to the other side of the river.

“You don’t know what’s over there. I’ve been there before, and I’m not ready to go there again. You don’t want to go. Stay here—the way out is down that path.” She pointed back the way they had come.

He shook his head again. “I have to go across.” He stepped onto a rock and jumped from it to the next stone without difficulty, making his way across the width of the river. When he reached the opposite shore, he leapt onto the bank and looked back at Erin for a moment, his face white and filled with terror, then he turned and walked into the forest on the other side.

The ache in Erin’s stomach gnawed at her and her head throbbed. If Gary could make it back, might there be some hope for him?
There will be no hope for him if a mortifer takes him.

Erin watched as Gary walked away.
I am a viator, and I fight those demons.
She leapt to the nearest rock in the river, slipped and almost fell, and stepped to the next. She struggled to make her way across, sliding on the wet stones, finally leaping to the opposite bank, where she pushed her way through the woods. She wished she had her sword. The memory of the mortifer that had found her there before was vivid in her mind, and she trembled, her stomach queasy as she looked around. She rushed to catch up with Gary and finally saw him in the distance ahead. He had stopped and was standing still with his back to her. A mortifer was facing him.

“No!” she screamed.

The shadow fled into the forest.

“Gary,” she called.

He turned around just as she reached him.

“Are you all right?”

His face was pale and drawn, and sweat ran down his cheeks. “I’m okay.”

“Come back. I’ll show you the way.”

“I’m finished. There’s no hope for me.”

“Is that what the shadow told you? It’s full of lies. Come back,” she said.

His eyes pleaded with her. “I need to go this way now.”

“Think of Fiji, Gary. Of dancing and scuba diving. Think of warm sunshine and running on the beach.”

He hesitated, his eyes searching hers.

“Come with me.” She took his hand and he let her lead him back to the river. The way was rocky and treacherous, and dense undergrowth scratched them and tore at their clothes as they struggled to get through. By the time they reached the river, they were dripping with sweat, their feet cut and clothes torn. They stood at the shore, watching the icy water rush past. Erin found the ford, but Gary drew back, trembling. She coaxed him to go in front of her onto the first rock, and they made their way to the middle of the river together, when Gary stopped and turned around. His face was white, and he was shaking, his breathing labored.

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a long knife. A mortifer’s blade.

She looked at the knife and looked up at his face.

His eyes pleaded with her.

“I’m sorry. I have to do this.”

He shoved the knife into her belly.

Her eyes opened wide and she stared at him as she gasped. The sharp pain pierced through her, spreading through her whole body. She clutched her hands to her stomach and felt her blood pulsing out. Gary pulled out the knife and threw it into the river; his face twisted with horror.

He shook his head and whispered, “I had to.”

Erin tumbled into the rushing water, and Gary scrambled across the rest of the rocks, reached the other side, and ran back through the forest the way they had come.

The icy water caught her, rushed over her, and pushed her downstream. She saw her blood mix and swirl with the water. Huge rocks that jutted out of the river caught and slowed her, but the water flowed over her face pushing her down, and she gasped for breath. Her strength was draining away. She was in agony and cold and too weak to stop herself. The river pulled her away from the rocks, and she swirled downstream again.

She held her breath as long as she could, then gasped and choked. The rushing water battered her against more rocks as she swept past until a low-hanging tree branch finally caught and held her in a shallow pool. Forcing her legs to move, she crawled up the shore on the far side, where she dragged herself into the shelter of some fir trees, coughing water and blood. She tried to stand.

Dizziness overwhelmed her, and she collapsed onto the hard ground. A gray haze settled over everything, and the forest grew cold. Erin felt like such a fool. She lay on her side and curled her knees up to her chest, covering her face with her hands. Her body shivered and her teeth chattered. How could she have allowed this to happen? She had been so blind. Michael had tried to warn her, and she had pushed him away.
Oh, Michael
. She felt so much agony, and now she was dying here, alone in the dark forest where no one could find her, and her children would have no one.

She moaned. Her stomach was on fire, and she was utterly alone. She had failed completely. The blackness surrounding her was spinning, and she felt herself spiraling down, further and deeper into the darkness, full of thorns and ice that pierced her again and again. Pain spread from her wound and shot through every part of her body. She smelled a sick, sweet odor, and terror filled her mind and her heart. She was lost.

Chapter 50

The drive from Portland was grueling on a Friday night, but Bruce finally made the turn into Anacortes and drove up to Aleesha’s house. The house was in darkness; he wondered if she had gone to Michael’s to meet him there. He pulled into her driveway, hopped out of his car, and sprinted up to the door. It was locked, so he pulled out his key and let himself in. No one was there. He flipped on some lights and saw the note on the message board:
Bruce—Erin was in a car accident. I’ve gone to the hospital in Mt. Vernon. I’ll call you when I can. Love, Aleesha

Bruce sat down. A car accident. Must be bad if they were at the hospital. He got up and went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of beer, popped it open and took a drink. The phone rang.

It was Aleesha. “I’m so glad you’re there. They’re airlifting Erin to Seattle—they don’t know if she’s going to make it.” He could tell she was crying; it was hard for her to speak. “Gary’s pulling through—he’s going to be all right. But Erin …”

“Do you want me to come and get you? I can take us there,” he said.

“No, you don’t need to—Hannah and Carlos are here, and they’re driving. I’ll go with them. But Bruce, try to reach Michael, okay?”

“I will,” he said. “I’m sure she’ll make it. She’s a strong woman.”

“She’s been through so much already,” Aleesha started sobbing. “Damn it. I don’t want to cry.”

“Babe, she’ll be all right.”

“Okay. I’ll call you from Seattle.”

“Try not to worry,” he said.

Bruce dialed Michael’s cell phone, but there was no answer, so he left a message. He tipped back his beer and drank half the bottle, then went and lay down on the couch. If Erin were wandering in the dream world, maybe he could find her. He had to try something. She had saved him before, and he had to do what he could, but he wished he could find Michael.

He closed his eyes and relaxed each muscle in his body, one by one, taking his time. When he relaxed his face and eyelids, he felt himself slipping away, and he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He imagined Erin’s face. He took another deep breath, opened his eyes and found himself in a forest. It was twilight, and he could see the silhouette of the fir trees against the sky. The air was icy but smelled fresh and clean. He found a narrow path and followed it toward the distant sound of running water.

The sky was a little brighter in the direction he was heading, and the brightness grew as he walked. He was dressed in black with his sword at his side, and he moved silently through the forest. The sound of the water grew steadily louder, and he finally came to the bank of the river.

He frowned. He knew this was a dividing line, and if Erin was on the opposite shore, he didn’t know if he could reach her. “Erin Holley!” he called out. There was no response.

He saw the ford in the river, and he stepped out onto the first stone. His foot slipped off into the water; he caught himself and tried again. The rock was so slick he couldn’t stay on it, so he took off his boots. The water was biting cold, and he still couldn’t gain a secure footing. He put his boots back on and scrambled along the rocky shore, heading downstream, looking for any sign of Erin. Finally he saw a figure in the shadows of the fir trees on the opposite shore. He drew closer; it was a tall man with brown hair dressed in khakis and a blue shirt. He was standing still watching Bruce approach.

Bruce stopped and called, “I’m searching for a woman!”

The man said nothing, but his brow creased, and he pointed to the ground at his feet. The dense undergrowth hid whatever was there.

Bruce’s heart pounded. “Is she there?”

The man pointed at the ground again.

“I can’t get across,” Bruce called out. The man made no sign.

“Shit,” Bruce said under his breath. A crow flew overhead.

“What?” said a voice behind him. Bruce whirled; Michael stood there.

“When did you get here?” Bruce said.

“Just now,” said Michael. “The crow led me, and I came as quickly as I could. What’s happened?”

“I think Erin’s across the river. She was in a car accident. I don’t know how bad it was, but she’s not answering.”

*****

Michael’s stomach twisted as he scanned the opposite shore. “Who’s that?” he asked, looking at the man standing in the forest.

“Don’t know. I asked him if he’d seen Erin, and he pointed to the ground at his feet. I think she’s right there.”

Michael lowered his voice to a whisper. “I think I know who that is.”

He walked to the edge of the water and called out, “William.”

The man looked over at him.

“Is Erin there?”

William pointed to the ground.

“I’m coming.”

“There’s a ford upstream, but I wasn’t able to cross it,” Bruce said.

“I’ll try.” Michael didn’t know if he could get across, and if he did make it, he didn’t know if he could get back. They made their way upriver to the stony ford, and Michael took off his boots and stepped onto the first rock. His foot slid off, but he caught himself and tried again. This time he kept his footing and stepped to the next stone. Bruce watched him from the shore. Michael carefully stepped from one stone to the other, and was more than halfway across when he slipped and fell into the rushing water. The current pulled at him and started to wash him downstream. He came up, gasped for air, and reached out to grab onto a boulder. His grip held; he got his feet underneath him and stood, braced against the pull of the water.

“You all right?” Bruce yelled.

Michael coughed. “Yeah,” he shouted, feeling for his sword and knife, finding them both still tight against him. He readied himself to force his way across the remainder of the river against the current. He pushed against the boulder and kept his feet on the rocky bottom as he struggled the rest of the way across. He reached the shore and lay down on the grassy bank.

He caught his breath and stood up just as Bruce called out, “Mortifer!”

Michael smelled its putrid odor before he saw it, and he drew his sword and whirled around. The shadow rose out of the forest floor and pulled a staff from its black robes. It swung the staff, preparing to hit Michael across the head, but he dodged and thrust his sword to slash at the shadow. It laughed and jumped away. “You are out of your world, viator. I have the power here.”

Michael gritted his teeth. “Show me.”

The shadow howled, and another mortifer rose out of the ground beside it. It lunged at Michael with its sword while the other one leapt forward with its pole and brought it smashing down. Michael countered with his own blade, and blocked the pole with his arm. He heard a loud crack and intense pain shot through him. He swung his sword fast, advancing on the mortifers before they could ready another attack. He slashed through one, and it let out a screeching wail before it blew away on the breeze. The other dodged his blade and thrust its own sword back and forth. Michael leapt aside and brought his sword down on its head, cleaving it in two—the shadow shrieked and was gone.