Witch Island (23 page)

Jim’s legs grew shaky as all the energy seemed to get sucked from his body. His breathing grew shallow. He was having a panic attack. They were trapped on the island. He had the ring, which made him feel better, protected, if the story about it was true, and why wouldn’t it be? Somehow, it must’ve protected him and hurt the witch when he laid his hand on Darren. Expelled the bitch.

“Okay, we need to stay close together,” Jim said. “I know this is all very hard to believe, but I think the legend is true.”

“I can’t believe you people are buying this crap about a witch,” Shay said, shaking her head in disgust.

“I don’t know, Shay,” Melinda said. “I’m starting to.”

“Don’t fucking talk to me, bitch.”

“Wait a minute,” Jim said. “You pulled those nails from the ground, right?”

“So?”

“You said they were old, probably special,” Jim said. “They had strange markings on them?”

“Again, so?”

“So maybe they were there for a reason. I mean you said it yourself. There’s no explanation why the clearing is like that. Those spikes must’ve been there for a reason, right in front of the rusty old pole. I bet that’s where the witch was burned, and by pulling those things up, she was released from her prison.”

“I think you’ve all lost it,” Shay said. She pulled at her own hair and screamed, clearly losing it. Her eyes narrowed to slits. She looked at Jim. “You’re all in on this together, aren’t you?”

“No one’s in on anything,” Gwen said, stepping forward. She threw her arms up. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t you see some strange shit is going on? I don’t want to believe in any legend either, but I’m starting to think it’s real.”

Shay started to speak, but said nothing.

“Enough of this shit,” Jim said. “We need to find Steve and Julie, then leave.”

“How? The boats are gone,” Gwen said.

“We swim,” Darren said.

“As much as that black water scares me, I’ll do it, but I’m not waiting around for anyone.” Shay glanced at Darren. “Not with murderers hanging around.”

“Shay,” Melinda said, sounding a little angry for the first time, “it isn’t like that. Darren wouldn’t hurt a fly, you know that.”

“You’re the one who caused all this,” Shay said, taking a step toward Melinda. “Couldn’t keep your legs closed while your man was away.”

“Calm down, Shay,” Jim said. “You’re not helping.”

“Eat shit,” Shay said. “Paul was your best friend and you’re just going to side with these two, one being a killer?”

“Shay, damn it,” Jim said, losing his cool. “Something else is going on here. Can’t you see that?”

“All I see are fools, who I thought were my friends.” She looked at Gwen. “You coming, or staying?”

“I don’t want to leave until we find Steve and Julie.”

“They’re better off wherever they are,” Shay said, practically yelling. “Safe and away from all this shit.” She was fuming now, her chest heaving in and out. “You know what? Fuck you all.” She held up her middle fingers. “I’m done here, and when I come back, I’m going to bring the police with me.”

Shay turned to leave when her feet were yanked out from under her. She collapsed to the ground with a thud. Vines were wrapped around her ankles, trailing into the woods. “Oh, what the fuck is—” Shay words were cut short, replaced by a high-pitched scream. The vines had slid up and around her calves.

Jim couldn’t believe what he had seen. He dove to help her, but was too late, as he watched her get dragged into the forest, her arms flopping like a rag doll’s.

“What the fuck was that?” Melinda said, now glued to Darren’s side.

“I’m going after her,” Jim said. He scooped the machete off of the ground. “You guys go back to the camp, find Steve and Julie, then get the hell off the island.”

“I’ll come with you,” Darren said.

“No, you stay with the girls,” Jim said. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got the ring.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jim moved as quickly as possible, following the sound of Shay’s screams. He reached into his back pocket for his flashlight and dropped it. It was too dark to find, so he just ran. Branches tore at his flesh, poked and prodded him. He swung the machete with reckless abandon, hoping to clear whatever might be in his way. He tripped over branches, crashed into tree trunks and fell hard whenever a downed branch or log tripped him up. The moonlight hardly made a dent in the above canopy. Jim’s vision had adjusted to the dark, but without a flashlight, he was running virtually blind.

Shay kept screaming, begging for help, clearly panicked. But Jim heard pain in her cries as well. He moved faster. Something jabbed him in his right eye. He flinched as pain shot through his skull, but he kept going. Bugs flew into his mouth, tickling the back of his throat. He spat most out, but swallowed some. He didn’t care. Shay was in trouble and needed his help. The witch was real, and it seemed like his and Steve’s rings were the only things that could protect the group.

Jim’s cheeks burned from scrapes. His right eye felt like it was swelling, his already awful field of vision growing smaller. Something sticky engulfed his head. He pawed at his face, removing a huge spider’s web. He imagined the eight-legged insect crawling through his hair and swatted his head. He hated spiders. It seemed like a silly thing to worry about, especially now, but the thought of it entangled in his hair was unnerving. He swiped at his face, ears and hair again, making sure the spider wasn’t there.

Shay’s cries had stopped. A chill went up his spine. The crackling of forest debris under his feet was all he heard now, making him feel even more alone, vulnerable. He had a machete and the ring, reassurance surging through him again. He wondered why the witch hadn’t attacked him. If he was the one with the ring, why wouldn’t she want to take him out first? Maybe she couldn’t. He wished he’d listened more to his grandparents and learned all about the legend, the ring included. If he was invincible to the witch, then he’d have some advantage in dealing with her, but he just wasn’t sure.

Shay’s screams started again. They sounded like they came from a place of excruciating pain, and Jim knew she was being tortured. He broke from the thick woods into a small clearing. The change in light was almost overpowering. He winced, his wounded eye feeling as if a knife were lodged in it. He was thankful to be out of the woods, with its clawing, slicing fingers, but the sight before him was horrifying, something from a nightmare, and for a moment, he wished he hadn’t followed Shay.

She was suspended about six feet off the ground. Her arms and legs were stretched out by vines leading back into the forest. Her head hung low, but he could see her face. It was bruised as if beaten on, and lined with cuts, caked in blood. Her left eye had swelled closed and looked like a plum. Twigs and leaves clung to her hair. Her dress was in tatters, revealing numerous scrapes and gashes covering her flesh. A tree limb of decent size was protruding from her left side, dripping with blood.

Jim lost his breath, falling to one knee. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He’d failed. Shay was dead. He made a fist, feeling the iron between his fingers. Anger bubbled beneath his skin. He had to believe he was all that stood between the witch and his friends. It was up to him to save them. He rose to his feet and started forward, feeling rejuvenated.

Shay stirred.

Jim paused, surprised. “Shay?”

Her head rose, and she looked down at Jim. Blood trickled from her nose and mouth. “Jim…help me.”

Jim hurried to her.

Shay’s arms and legs were pulled taut, the vines retracting. She cried out in pain. Jim stopped, machete raised. Her body convulsed, her good eye rolling back into her head.

“You are all mine,” Shay said, but the voice was high-pitched and scratchy, clearly not Shay’s.

Goose bumps rippled along Jim’s flesh.

“Fuck you,” he said. He lowered the machete, thinking he wouldn’t need it to free Shay. He had the ring. Laying it against the vines might expel the witch, like it had when he touched Darren. At least, he hoped. He started forward.

Shay’s eye returned to normal. Her body sagged. “Jim?” she said, looking at him, then screamed as the vines tightened and pulled. The flesh on her shoulders tore, blood squirting forth. “Ahhhhhhhh, help me, Jim—”

Jim reached out to grab a vine, but was too late, as Shay’s arms and legs were ripped from their sockets, the limbs dragged into the forest. Blood exploded from all four wounds.

Jim shielded himself as the red stuff covered him.

He staggered back, wiping at his face. He cleared his eyes and saw that Shay was still alive, her eyes in shock, body trembling. Blood continued to flow from the wounds, but more like a leaky sewer pipe. There was nothing Jim could do for her.

“Jim…” Shay said, whispering.

More vines came from the darkness and shot into Shay’s gaping holes, causing her to resemble some nightmarish experiment from a science fiction horror movie. Jim saw the things slithering under her flesh, like some kind of flesh serpents.

“Kill me, Jim,” Shay mumbled, spitting up gobs of chunky blood. Shay’s body collapsed in on itself, as if she were nothing more than an inflatable doll. The vines pulsed, each one resembling an anaconda after a meal, except the meal moved rapidly along their bodies. The vines were eating Shay from the inside out, like a spider eats its catch.

Jim shook with fear, watching his surroundings spin. He lost his balance and fell. His brain couldn’t handle what was happening, the shock too much. He needed to make sense of it all, but wasn’t able to.

The witch is real.

The witch is real.

Run.

Run.

He got to his feet, shook his head, then put the ring in his mouth and bit down, feeling its strength. He reminded himself that he wore it, and that he was all that stood between the witch and his friends.

He heard the sound of Shay’s body being emptied, the sloshing and sucking, then the distant voices of his friends, calling out to Steve and Julie.
His friends
—they needed him.

He took one more look at Shay, swallowed hard, then took off toward the camp.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The campfire crackled with low flames. Low shadows danced around the clearing’s perimeter. No one wanted to go near the tree line. Everyone was afraid something would reach out and snatch them. Shay’s distant screams could be heard, sending chills through the group. Darren kept saying he should’ve gone with Jim, helped him out. Gwen kept reminding him he was needed where he was. The big guy wasn’t himself, acting jumpy and timid.

“They should’ve at least answered us by now,” Gwen said, arms hugged close to her body, hands pinned under her armpits.

“Julie!” Melinda called.

“This can’t be good,” Darren said. “I hate to say it, but maybe they aren’t coming back.”

Melinda spun on Darren, anger carved into her face. “Don’t say that. Why would you think such a thing? They’re probably just…just…”

Darren shook his head. Even with everything that had happened, everything he knew, he still loved Melinda. He wanted to scream at her, tell her she was a whore, but it just wasn’t in him. His heart still beat a little faster when he was around her, even now. He watched as she called out her cousin’s name, saw the hope in her eyes and he loved her more for it.

He feared the worst, and probably should’ve kept his mouth shut, but it was beginning to become obvious that the witch had gotten to them. Sure, there was the chance they were someplace where sound didn’t travel well, and they were so enamored with each other that nothing else mattered, but he didn’t think so. Bad things were happening, and those two having gone off into the woods almost guaranteed they weren’t going to return.

He thought about what he’d done, killed Paul. The whole thing seemed like a dream, like it wasn’t real, but then again, it was. He had strangled his friend to death. He wasn’t sure he believed in the whole witch story, but it was as plausible as him killing Paul, he guessed, even though it wasn’t really himself that had done it. He’d seen Shay get dragged off by vines. Wasn’t that proof enough that something evil was happening to them?

No matter what happened tonight, he needed to make sure Melinda was safe. He couldn’t live with himself if anything happened to her.

“We need to leave, now,” Darren said. He reached out and grabbed Melinda’s wrist.

“Not without Julie,” she said, and yanked her hand free.

“I think Darren’s right,” Gwen said, glancing around, looking worried. “If one of us—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—but if one of us gets possessed again, we might all be done for.”

“You mean me,” Darren said. “If I get possessed again, you won’t be able to stop me. I could easily kill you all.”

“Look, we don’t know exactly what’s happening,” Melinda said, “but yeah, if you go crazy again, we don’t stand much of a chance. But I’m not leaving without Julie. I can’t.”

Gwen sighed and ran her hands over her hair. “If Julie and Steve are still on the island, we’ll find them, but it’s stupid for us to stay here. Paul’s dead and something on this island wants us dead, too. We should get the police, let them come and do their thing.”