Chapter Thirty-Five

Hastings Mills, NY, July 21st, one year ago

Alone.

Claudia drifted in the endless black abyss of death and no matter how much she cried for help, no one answered.

Shari. Her sister had to be nearby. Every time she’d visited this place, Shari had come to her.

Where was she?

—Shari!— She heard the words in her mind but no sound existed in the void.

She called for her sister again. And again.

Nothing.

Terror pulsed through her nonexistent form. Had something happened? Was she unconscious?

Dead?

What about Stone and the others? The last thing she remembered was brushing her teeth, her eyes still red and swollen from crying, her heart in jagged pieces at the thought of Shari being tortured in Hell because of Claudia’s pitiful attempt to hurt the demon.

Then nothing.

As she contemplated the blank spot in her memory, a light appeared in the distance. For a second, Claudia’s hopes soared.

Shari!

Then the glow took on an angry red cast, the unhealthy crimson of hellfire. It expanded rapidly until a terrifyingly familiar desert formed around her. Towers of flame belched up in random patterns. Her body took shape and scorching heat assaulted her flesh.

The ground ruptured and Asmodeus’s massive throne rose up. The demon slouched casually, its five heads staring down at her with eyes of yellow.

“Welcome to Hell, witch.” The human head spoke, but the booming voice came from everywhere. The lion head bared its fangs, the horse shook its flaming mane, and the lizard flicked a forked tongue. The head in the center, a shaggy goat, stared at her with palpable lust.

The demon flicked its hand and a human form took shape at the base of the throne. In the next instant, Shari stood there, her flesh a ruddy pink as her pale skin reflected the flames.

“Claudia—”

A stream of fire shot up and twisted around Shari’s body. The burning loops constricted, squeezing Shari so tightly her arms and legs bent into impossible angles. More fiery tentacles attacked her, entering every orifice. Shari’s cries escalated into agonized shrieks as her flesh blistered and peeled away.

Claudia leaped forward but the ground cracked open and disgorged a stream of lava. She could only stand and watch as Shari’s skin melted and her bones charred. Claudia sank to her knees and reached out, helpless to do anything except—

Wait.

Why couldn’t she feel Shari’s pain? All their lives they’d shared any kind of intense physical sensation. Spankings, fights, burns, broken bones. But now, nothing. Why?

The answer came immediately.

—Because it’s not real, sister.—

—Shari!—

—Hush. Come with me. We don’t have much time.—

—Where?—

A vaporous hand appeared. Claudia took it and then watched in awe as she left her body behind and sailed into the darkness, an ethereal form rocketing through a starless universe. A light appeared ahead and Shari guided them to it. They came to a wall of prismatic hexagons, each displaying a different picture. Claudia had no time to focus on any of them before they entered one and then she stood before Robert Lockhart in a cheap motel room. He sat naked on a bed, his face in his hands. In the bathroom, a young girl washed herself with a cloth. He glanced at the girl and took a large knife from a duffle bag on the floor. Oblivious to Claudia’s ghostly presence, he placed the edge against his throat.

—You have to stop him. His work isn’t done.—

—How? He can’t see me.—

—He can if you want him to.—

That confused Claudia for a moment. How was she supposed to—

Her body took on substance, not quite solid but no longer transparent. Lockhart gasped and dropped the knife.

“Don’t do it.” Claudia had no idea what was happening, but she trusted Shari implicitly. “It’s not your time yet.”

“My soul is black with sin.” Lockhart looked at the girl again, who still had her back to them. “I don’t deserve to live.”

Claudia thought hard. She had to convince him. Her word alone wouldn’t be enough.

“God sent me.” She thought about Shari and a bullet wound appeared between her breasts. Lockhart’s eyes widened.

“You,” he whispered. He reached out and his hand passed through her. Tears welled up in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks into his goatee. “I’m so sorry for what I did to you. Please forgive me.”

“That’s not for me to do.” Claudia saw her opening and took it. “Only God can forgive you. But not if you kill yourself.”

“I won’t. I swear. I’ll wait for God’s sign.”

Something tugged at Claudia’s arm. The disembodied hand again. She let it pull her back into the void. Another burst of rainbow color, and then she stood in a different room.

Where Stone Graves held a gun to his head.

It’s over. There’s nothing left. Stone contemplated the gun in his hand. Death surrounded him, and it was all his fault. In the bathroom, Ken Webb reclined in a tub filled with bloody water, both of his wrists slashed open. He’d left a note blaming Stone for bringing him to Hastings Mills, where Del had been murdered by a group of homophobic good old boys who ‘didn’t want no fags in their town’. Rather than live alone, he’d decided to join his husband in death.

In the bedroom, Randi lay on the bed and Claudia on the floor, both of their heads blown away by the very same pistol Stone now held. Murder suicide. Claudia had put two bullets into Randi’s face and then stuck the barrel under her own chin and said, “You killed my sister and ruined my life. Now you have no one.”

A second later, her brains splattered on the wall.

She’d been right. He’d killed Shari by bringing her here. And all the others. None of it would’ve happened if he wasn’t a greedy, selfish bastard.

You can fix that. Give them what they all want. What they deserve.

He stared at the gun.

Yes. You have nothing to live for. The people you love are gone. Your career is ruined. Do what’s right. End the pain.

Do it for us.

Stone looked up. Claudia stood there, Shari at her side. They looked as beautiful and whole as the day he met them. Randi was with them, smiling and young again. Ken appeared with Del, their hands clasped.

Set us free.

Stone put the gun to his temple. If he could help them…why should he live when they were dead?

“No!”

Claudia shouted before she had any idea what she’d say.

Stone turned and frowned, his confusion obvious as he glanced from her to the other Claudia behind him and back again. She understood what he must be feeling. Angry burns marred her flesh and her hair hung in limp tangles. Other-Claudia wore clean clothes and looked perfectly sane. And solid.

She took a step toward him and saw his frown deepen as Shari’s image appeared next to her for a moment and then vanished.

“Don’t do it. None of it’s real. It’s a trick.”

“How do I know you’re not the trick?” He turned the gun so it pointed at her.

“You didn’t betray me. You wouldn’t. I’ve seen inside you. You’re a good man.”

“No, I’m not. I wasn’t good to Randi or you. You both deserved better.”

She took another step. “I love you, Stone.”

“We both do.” Shari’s ghostly form flickered into existence and faded again, but not before Claudia felt the surprising truth of her sister’s words.

“We’ll never leave you.” Claudia held out her hand to Stone.

The gun shook and she worried he might pull the trigger by accident. Dreamland or not, she felt sure that if either of them died here, their earthly body would perish as well.

—Yes.— Shari’s confirmation only added to her nervousness.

“Never?”

“We promise. Give me the gun and everything will be okay.”

He slowly leaned forward.

“Don’t do it, Stone.” Randi’s harsh tone stopped him. “You have to pay for your sins.”

“You have to pay for me,” a new voice said. A little boy appeared next to Randi.

Shari whispered inside Claudia’s head and she repeated the words aloud.

“Nick. They’re lying. Death isn’t the answer.”

Stone’s eyes widened at the use of his real name and then narrowed as he stared at the boy.

“You weren’t my fault. Not you. Not any of you.”

He handed the gun to Claudia.

“I trust you.”

The room disappeared in a cascade of rainbows.

Stone sat up and opened his eyes. His arm was extended and his fingers bent in the form of a gun, like a child playing cops and robbers.

“Holy shit.” He slowly lowered his arm and unclenched his hand. Sweat coated his face and chest. The temperature in the room had to be eighty.

Across from him, on the love seat, Claudia moaned and reached out for something. He had a feeling he knew what. Afraid that touching her might send him back to the dream world, he went around the living room turning on the lights. Ken and Del lay on the floor, both of them muttering in their sleep. Lockhart sat in one of the chairs, awake but with his eyes more haunted than ever as he stared at Claudia.

“Did she save you too?” he asked, not looking at Stone.

“Yeah. I think so.” Not wanting to discuss his nightmare, Stone changed the subject. “Where’s Father Bonaventura?”

Lockhart pointed at the kitchen. Stone went down the hall and found the priest at the table, pillow creases still on his cheeks and what little hair he had tousled from sleep. He was reading his Bible and marking passages with a red pen.

Stone sat and waited for him to finish and glance up. His eyes were bloodshot and worried. When he saw Stone’s face, he nodded.

“It came to you in your dreams as well.”

“It?” Stone asked, although he had a pretty good idea what Father Bonaventura meant.

“Tell me everything.”

Stone did. Halfway through, Claudia entered the room and sat down next to him. When he finished, she told them about her experiences. As each member of the team joined them, Father Bonaventura asked them to recite their dreams. All of them had experienced something terrible. For Ken, it was reliving the day he came out to his parents, only instead of accepting him and his life choice, they kicked him out and he’d ended up hustling sex on the streets and living in a shelter. Del’s involved being trapped in a cemetery where all the people whose lives he’d taken as a soldier came back to avenge their deaths. Randi said she’d been shown a future where she lived alone in a tiny apartment, broke, starving, and sickly.

All of them said Claudia had appeared just in time to stop them from committing suicide.

Lockhart didn’t give any details, just said that he’d relived a dark moment from his past and he’d been near suicide before an angel of God came and saved him. He didn’t mention Claudia but from the way he looked at her, Stone felt pretty sure he knew the truth.

“It’s the demon’s way,” Father Bonaventura said. “Many times, when the despairing stand at the brink and look down, it’s a demon that gives them a push. They sow darkness and despair, and tempt people to the sin of suicide so they can harvest the souls.”

“Did you have a nightmare as well?” Randi asked.

The priest shrugged. “I’ve had them every night since the beast returned, although until two days ago, I had no idea why. But now we must put aside our fears, move past the demon’s unholy persuasions. It failed to break us, thanks in no small part to the powers granted us by God.” He gave a quick nod in Claudia’s direction. “And today we must drive it from this world forever.”

The table jumped and shook. Glasses in the sink shattered. Upstairs, Abby shrieked and doors slammed. Curt Rawlings shouted for help.

Stone ran for the stairs, the rest of the group behind him. When he got to Abby’s room, Curt stood at the door, his mouth open in shock. Invisible hands tossed Abby’s body through the air like a rag doll, slamming her into one wall and then the other so hard there were dents in the plaster over her bed.

“Help her!” Curt shouted. Stone tried to grab her but a nightstand smashed into his legs and knocked him over. It rose up and swung sideways, striking Curt in the ribs with a brittle crack like tree branches snapping in the wind. He screamed and clutched his side. Del took him by the arm and pulled him from the room. Abby fell onto the bed, her elbows raw and bleeding. She shouted at them and green spittle flew from her mouth.

“Fuck you to hell. You’ll all die! Die! Muri! Morir! This town will burn and your souls will be mine.”

Father Bonaventura pushed past Ken and threw holy water across Abby. She howled and bashed her head against the wall, her eyes rolling crazily.

“Bastardis sacerdos! Sus turpis! Prostituta irrumator praetor!”

Abby gasped and went limp. Her eyes closed and her chest heaved as she panted like an overheated dog.

Father Bonaventura left the room, waving for everyone to follow. He shut the door and leaned against it.

“The demon grows stronger. I must prepare myself before I begin the ceremony again.”

“We need to get Curt to the hospital,” Randi said. He leaned against the wall, his face white with shock and pain. Stone nodded.

“Have Del take you. The rest of us will help Father Bonaventura.”

“Okay. I’ll call you when we know anything.” She took Curt’s arm and helped him down the stairs. Del followed, after Ken hugged him and told him to be careful.

Stone looked at Father Bonaventura.

“Tell us what to do.”

From the other side of the door, the rough voice of the demon shouted at them.

“Burn in hell! That’s what you’ll do! Burn forever with your whore!”

As he walked down the stairs, Stone prayed that Father Bonaventura could defeat the demon.

Because the alternative was too frightening to consider.