“Are you totally insane?” asked Craig.
“Uh—”
“Kick him in the balls,” said Serge. “Kick him and run.”
Craig’s eyes slid to Serge. “I wouldn’t suggest that.”
The hair on my arms rose. I gulped for air.
“Whoa.” Serge stepped back.
My thoughts exactly.
“Both of you,” said Craig. “We’re going now.”
Serge’s chest puffed out. “I’m not—”
The wailing began again.
“Go! Now!” Craig pushed me and at the same time, spun and ran in the opposite direction of the house.
I sprinted down the street.
Serge kept up, but when the keening increased in volume, he stumbled and fell.
Craig doubled back.
So did I.
I grabbed one arm, Craig grabbed the other, and we dragged Serge down the street.
“I’m going to die,” moaned Serge. “I’m going to die all over again.”
“Probably,” Craig said through gritted teeth.
“But he’s already—”
“We’ll never make it.” Craig pivoted.
“Make it where?”
“There.” He pointed at an abandoned house. “Drag him there.” Craig put his arm around Serge and resumed carrying him.
The wailing grew closer.
Serge slumped forward.
“Hurry, Maggie!”
I was too freaked to argue, too terrified to pull rank or ask what he was doing. We dragged Serge through the broken-down wooden fence and onto the middle of the lawn.
“Keep him upright!” Craig let go.
My legs buckled under Serge’s weight, but I held him steady.
Craig dug into his jacket and pulled out a small vial. He uncorked the top and moved in a circle around us, chanting.
It sounded like Latin, but I didn’t dare question him. There was something in the way he moved, an authority in his voice that said whatever was coming at us, he was the guy to take it on.
A powder fell to the ground from the vial. As he spoke, it began to glow, black, blue, then a bright, pure white. Its brilliance shot upwards, contained us in a vertical cylinder.
He corked the vial and stepped inside the circle. Grabbing hold of Serge, he quietly said, “Don’t let him out. Don’t step out the circle.”
I nodded and swallowed, but my throat was desert dry and my voice box felt like it was stuck.
“I’ll explain it all, later. Right now, you need to trust me.”
The night went silent.
Deep in my bones, where the marrow and cells were born, fear was also birthed. My terror was deep, primal. I wanted to vomit and my legs barely kept me up.
The scream came immediately in front of us, loud, high, and full of murderous intent.
Instinctively, I took a step back.
Craig reached out, grabbed the front of my shirt and yanked me forward. “Stay still.”
A heavy, loud thump sounded. The luminescence of the tunnel obscured my view of the thing. But I could make out large, bat-like wings and red eyes. I was panting, now, rapid, shallow breaths. “What is it?”
“You don’t want to know,” Craig said, his expression grim, his tone flat.
“Is it human?”
He paused. “It used to be.”
And that frightened me more than if he’d said “no” or “yes.”
“It wants Serge?”
“Badly.”
“But he’s dead.”
“There are levels to death,” he said. “And with each level, there are…challenges.”
“What does that mean?”
“Hell is nothing compared to what this thing will do to him.”
Beside me, Serge stirred, moaned.
Craig let go of the ghost.
Serge sagged against me. He groaned and tried to rise.
Craig made a fist, and clocked Serge on the back of his head. Then he grabbed hold of the ghost once more. He glanced at me. “It’s better for him if he’s unconscious.”
A bright circle of white exploded in front of me and radiated out. The thing was hitting the shield.
A howl of frustration rose, a high, keening shriek.
“It’s trying to get in.” Craig yelled to be heard above the creature’s screams. He looked at me. “You’ll have to hold him.”
“Okay.”
He held my gaze. “You’ll be fine—but if this gets him…”
I swallowed and nodded.
“No matter what, you can’t let go.”
“I won’t.”
Craig turned. “I have to go out there. The spell won’t hold it for much longer.”
“It won’t hurt me. Will it hurt you?”
He laughed. “Oh, yeah. This is going to hurt.”
A glow lit his eyes, one I’d never seen before. It turned his brown eyes to amber, throbbed with electricity, and I got the distinct feeling I was no longer looking at a seventeen-year-old boy.
“Stay here.” His voice rumbled like a lion’s roar. He dropped his messenger bag and stepped out of the circle.
I shivered. Whatever he was, instinct said the creature had met its match.
Either Craig pushed the thing into the column or vice-versa because bright flashes of light pulsed in the milky screen of the tunnel, blue and green, black and red.
I gripped Serge, held him tighter as he moved.
Consciousness returned to him. He put his hand to his forehead and groaned.
I tried to imitate what Craig had done. Pulling my fingers into a fist, I slammed him in the back of the head.
“Ow!” He grabbed my hand. “Holy crap, Maggie. Why are you hitting me?” He winced and rubbed his head with his other hand. “That hurts.” He looked around, taking in the tunnel and the particles of light that moved skyward.
“Craig knocked you out. He said—”
“Where is he?” Serge stepped away and wobbled on his feet.
“Out there. Fighting that thing.”
“What thing?” He frowned. “Why don’t I hurt anymore?”
I thought. “Maybe it only has so much energy. It can’t fight Craig and hunt you at the same time.”
“What is it?”
“No idea…it used to be human.”
“Used to be?”
“Yeah.”
“Geez.”
“Yeah.”
Light continued to crash into the force field.
“Wish I could tell who was winning,” said Serge.
Me too.
A bestial cry rent the night.
I heard the crush of bone, the soft, squishing sound of blood and organs.
“Maggie,” said Serge. “I think we just found out who won.”
The force field dropped.