21

 

Deep black pressed as I tripped and stumbled down the tunnel. Breath coming in hitches, I struggled to keep panic at bay as I ran. Jagged outcroppings tore at my sleeves and bruised my arms as I pushed forward, navigating the sinuous path in the pitch dark. Behind me, I heard a low howl echo.

Keep running. Don’t look back.

A faint glow appeared as I rounded a curve. I moved faster, straining for the light. The ground rose, angling up and my leg muscles burned as I climbed. Ahead, tangled vines hung over the opening and I reached for them, tearing through the curtain of greenery with a frantic gasp. Tumbling to my knees, I blinked, confused.

Where was I?

With grass between my fingers and fog shifting just above the ground, I stood with shaking knees. Panting, I looked around at the forest. Oak branches swayed and creaked overhead as the wind pushed the thick mist between the trunks. The dark cloying haze of the woods seemed to close in and I stood, wanting to move. To get away.

Far off, the ocean waves crashed below, and I squinted at the rocks just outside the tree line. A stone semi-circle against the sky; I was at Crescent Point. I listened at the tunnel’s opening, but nothing followed me out. No ghostly remains reached out of the darkness to pull me back and my heart calmed.

Noise, men’s voices, floated to me, so I walked to the edge of the cliff and looked down at the beach below.

Sheriff Thompson stood next to his golf cart parked on the sand near the water. Several deputies stood next to him, their hats off as they stared down at the ground.

My heart leapt. I needed to get down there, to tell him what happened. Whoever or whatever chased me into the tunnels might still be there. Turning, my gaze snapped to the path that led down from Crescent Point to the beach. I ran. Through the trees and brambles, I hurled across small meadow flowers whipping at my legs. Skidding down the final stretch of dirt road, I slid to a stop just before the sand. My lips parted with surprise.

An ambulance drove up the strand, lights and sirens off, easing next to the others. Parker Jones got out and unfurled a tarp. Its bright yellow expanse snapped in the wind. He covered a form on the beach.

Thompson stood, arms crossed, talking to him.

Gnawing worry gripped my gut and I peered, trying to get a closer look. It was a body, I was sure of it. Why else would they have an ambulance?

Thompson turned as I walked up. Putting up his arms, he shook his head. “Raven, this is a crime scene—” His brows furrowed. “What happened to you?”

“I–I was…who is that?” An offshore breeze pushed the edges of the tarp, and I gasped when I saw a gash on the arm. Unable to tear my eyes from the damage, I lunged, reaching for the edge of the covering.

“Hey, hey,” Thompson caught me by the upper arms. “You can’t—”

“Who is it?” I shouted. His eyes narrowed, and I realized between my ripped sleeves and tangled hair I must look like I’d lost my mind. Forcing calm to my voice, I tried again. “Please, Thompson, I just want to know if it’s someone I know.”

Letting go, Thompson gave me a long look before hooking his thumbs in his gun belt and nodding over his shoulder. “It’s a kid from town. Troublemaker named Elgin Matthews.”

“What’s wrong with his hand?” I covered my mouth, horrified. “He looks…he looks slashed.”

Thompson sighed, turned to Parker. “Secure that cover, will you?”

Leading me away from the scene, Thompson took his jacket off and draped it over my shoulders.

“Elgin? I know his family…” I let him steer me towards the road, so tired and on edge from what just happened, only to see another body. I needed to tell Thompson about the tunnels. Struggling to form words, to think straight, my sentence was cut off as a wailing scream ripped across the sand.

“Aw, man,” Thompson swore under his breath at the woman racing across the shore from the opposite direction. He turned to me. “You stay here.”

Jogging back to the body, he met the older woman as she ran up on the scene. Hair in rollers, robe flying, she wore an expression of pure terror. She fought Thompson, finally collapsing to the sand sobbing Elgin’s name. Someone had called that poor boy’s mother, and Thompson barked at a deputy who looked both mortified and guilty. I moved and the woman’s gaze snapped to me. She wrenched herself from Thompson’s grasp, barreling down the beach towards me.

“Them!” She pointed at me, her eyes crazed. “It was one of those people.”

“Mrs. Matthews,” Thompson and Parker caught up with her, holding her by the crooks of her arms. “Calm down.”

“She’s one of them,” she screamed, yanking as she tried to get to me. “Skulking around in the woods and living on the water like pirates. They’re thieves and killers, everybody knows that.”

Backing up, I watched a mother crazed with grief and anger drag two men with her as she lunged for me.

“Calm down, Susan,” Thompson yelled. “He was in the surf and washed up. It wasn’t her!”

The grisly revelation stopped her short and she blinked, momentarily confused, before putting her hands to her head as if to keep her mind from shattering. “I just talked to him this morning…just a few hours.”

“Where did he go?” Thompson asked. “Did he say if he was meeting anyone?”

“He–he was working at the docks.”

“Has he had any trouble—?”

“Yes, I’m telling you, it was one of those gypsies,” she snarled the epithet, glancing up at me. “They live on the water, Thompson. Elgin was found in the water. What is wrong with you? Why won’t you arrest them?”

“Everyone who is Romany, Susan?” Thompson snapped. “Just go and grab all of them? How about anyone with a boat, too?”

“Do something,” she shouted back. “Because if you won’t do your job and get whoever did this, then Elgin’s brothers will do it for you.”

Thompson got in her face, his expression cold. “Don’t make threats you’re not willing to pay for, Susan.”

She shrank from him, her eyes blazing. Casting a final look at me, she spit on the ground and turned, wrangling her robe around her frail body as she stalked from us.

Thompson faced me, exasperated.

“What?” Confused, I flapped my hands at my sides.

He leaned in, his whisper harsh, “You going to tell me what is going on with you? Because that’s two bodies you happened to be near when they were discovered and you look like you’ve been in a heck of a tussle.”

“I–I was in the woods…” I looked down at the scratches on my arms, my wet skirt, and pressed my lips together. After what he’d just said, I doubted now was the best time to let him know I thought a ghost chased me down a secret tunnel in the fun-house.

“Yeah, I got that,” he said, eyes searching mine. Did he think I was lying?

“I went to the—”

Mrs. Matthews’ voice cut me off, her high pitched screech snapping Thompson’s gaze from mine. She ran towards a fast approaching golf cart painted lime green with flames; Elgin’s brothers.

They jumped off, ran to the tarp and tangled with the deputies while their mother screamed profanities and smacked at the men trying to stop her sons.

Thompson ran towards the melée, leaving me in the sand to watch. Movement overhead caught the corner of my eye and I looked up at the Crescent Point rock formation, startled.

Staring down from the cliff, Siyah stood with a dagger in his hand. I shrank back out of his line of sight. He watched the twisting crowd near Elgin’s body with an expression that sent a shiver through me. Eyes hard, jaw tight, he looked furious. The wind blew the trees and whipped his unbuttoned shirt open to reveal a crimson smear across his white t-shirt. Shuddering, I remembered what Thompson had said about Niklos.

He’d been stabbed.