Children Without Faces, page 13
“Here we are,” Trip said, opening up the lantern’s light again. The tunnel ahead had been pitch black, completely devoid of the glowing moss. Even with the lantern shining, it seemed darker back there, like the shadows were alive and angry at being pushed back. The ceiling lowered and grew rougher, the edges reminding Toby of sharp bladed teeth.
He gulped and squared his shoulders; if Dem was there, that’s where he was going.
“Go on, then,” he murmured, urging them forward.
“I don’t like this,” Glen said darkly.
“You don’t gotta,” Dani said. “You can go back if you want.”
He snorted at that, and they got moving once more.
The tunnel twisted and turned, and Toby knew for a fact that he was completely lost, especially without the moss to help him get his bearings. Hopefully, the others knew where they were; Trip sure seemed to.
It continued on until, up ahead, Toby spotted the edges of the tunnel illuminated by flickering lights, like a fire. Trip must’ve saw it too, because he stopped and shuttered the lantern again. In the back, Kale put his hand on Toby’s shoulder, probably to help him find his balance. Without the light, it seemed like the whole tunnel was moving.
Slowly, they crept forward, moving foot by painful foot. The rough stone suddenly seemed fraught with all kinds of loose pebbles that clattered and clacked as Toby put his boot down. Between that and the pounding of his heart, it was a miracle the whole town above couldn’t hear him.
They got to the bend in the tunnel ahead and were about to peek around it when a large cloaked figure stepped out in front of them. “Ah, guests,” the Rider said brightly, spreading his arms out wide. “Welcome. I’m so glad you could come.”
Behind him, Toby felt Kale’s hand get ripped away, and the boy screamed.
18
Kale!” Dani yelled, turning to push past Toby, but he shoved her hard away from the Rider.
“Go,” he hissed. Ahead, Trip and Glen charged the Rider, and Toby caught a glimpse of the man’s fierce grin. A blast of wind caught them, and Toby felt his feet leave the ground, his arms flailing as he tried to get a grip on something. He twisted, slammed into a wall, and bounced off.
His breath left his lungs in a rush. Gasping, he tried to get up, the sound of snarling in front of his face. Through the gloom, he spotted Grim struggling to hold onto Kale, the boy’s face pinched and terrified.
“Don’t kill them, Grim,” Rider said, clucking his tongue. “Bring them inside. Come along, children.”
Another wind punctuated his words and picked Toby up, flinging him toward where the Rider had first appeared. This time, he managed to land better, only clipping his elbow on the rock wall. Scrambling, he spilled around the corner and into the room beyond.
The place came from a nightmare, from a winter’s tale of old, a time where mages ruled and did terrible things to those weaker than they. Torches spat sparks from their holders along the rock walls, casting enough light to get an idea of the horror. Chains hung from the walls, most empty, but not all.
Three tattered remains of what must’ve been children stared at him, the flesh purple and blue. Large boils wept yellowish pus down their naked bodies and crisscrossing hatch marks along their chests and thighs revealed blackened muscle and flesh underneath.
As Toby stared, one of the remains turned her head and wide bloodshot eyes met his. She blinked, and Toby screamed, stumbling back, smacking into something that grabbed him.
“Yes, they’re alive still,” the Rider said, his hand wrapping like a steel band around Toby’s arm. He twisted it behind Toby’s back, hard enough that Toby yelped at the blinding pain. Something threatened to pop in his shoulder when he tried to twist away. “Not for long. Something’s gone wrong, I’m afraid. An error I hope to fix with this next batch.”
“What have you done?” Toby gasped.
“Shay!” Glen shouted from behind, then roared. Trying to see, Toby twisted around, only to have the Rider snort and shove him hard. He stumbled forward, deeper into the room. Tables off to his right held sharp, vicious tools, along with several massive tomes. Cabinets lurked in the back, their doors half open to reveal glistening bottles, the contents of which Toby refused to see — for a moment, he thought he saw what could be an eye.
Fighting back his growing panic, Toby looked for another exit. Near the cabinets stood another door, and by the corner closest to the shackled children, a weathered blanket hung pinned. Along its edges, Toby saw dark shadows that seemed to twist seductively, drawing his eye. He took an unwilling step toward them.
Glen pushed past him and ran to the girl, his hand reaching out toward her. “Shay. Gods, Shay.”
The girl opened split lips that no longer bled, a blackened tongue trying to wet them in vain. “Glen,” she rasped, then coughed and spat something thick at her feet. The glob seemed to move; Toby shuddered and looked away.
The door slammed, trapping them in the room, Grim at the doorway. He had Kale by the throat, the boy no longer kicking, his face red. Trip stepped back, shaking. “Tad?” he asked, softly.
Grim snarled, his mouth stretching into a hideous grin. “Not anymore,” he said, laughing.
With a scream, Trip charged the Rider, who sighed. “Don’t be tiresome,” he said, and gestured with his hands. The air shimmered and rippled, passing over Toby. Invisible needles slammed into his limbs, and he yelped and tried to scramble back, but found his limbs unwilling to move.
Vainly, he struggled to throw off the invisible grip, but the burning increased until, panting, he stopped. Something nagged at his mind, an urgent whisper. His head still moved, so he looked wildly around. Glen stayed frozen next to Shay, and the other two boyish remains sagged on either side of her. The chains from the ceiling swayed in an unfelt breeze, and the chamber filled with the stench of sickness.
“Let’s get you all put away,” the Rider said, walking over to Grim. He held out his hand. “Give him here.”
Grim snarled, but shoved Kale away. The boy fell limp, snagged by his collar; Rider dragged him over to a pair of shackles and started to hook him up.
“Glen,” Toby hissed. “Trip. Can you move?”
The older boy sobbed, his shoulders shaking, head bent. Trip squirmed, making a small whimpering sound in the back of his throat. “N-no. I can’t; I’m caught.”
The shackles snicked closed and the Rider sighed contentedly, turning to face them.
Dani! How could Toby have forgotten her? He looked around wildly, but she wasn’t frozen like they were, not in the open. Had she escaped down the tunnel, or was her body broken and twisted outside of the door, overcome before they’d even reached this nightmare?
“Why? What is this?” Toby asked, staring at the Rider.
The man tilted his head and studied Toby, his gaze cold and calculating, like a butcher eying a choice cut. “Curiosity is good. You’ll need to know what’s happening, you see, or you can’t help me. I’ll need to know what’s happening on the inside, of what you feel.” He walked over to Trip and grabbed him by the hair. Trip whined, twisting helplessly as Rider dragged him closer to the wall.
By the door, Grim growled, licking his lips endlessly with his thick glistening tongue.
A movement caught Toby’s eye, and he risked a look. Over by a cluster of barrels, Dani’s head peered around the side. She spotted him, and raised a finger to her lips.
Quickly, he looked away, heart pounding. “Then tell me,” Toby said desperately, hoping to stall the Rider from his grim task. “What are you gonna be doin’ to us?”
The Rider sighed, and took a rusted manacle. “I seek to perfect my project. A plague, you see. Alas, the subtle answer seems just beyond my grasp, which leads me to all of you and your delightfully isolated town.” He grunted, tapped the clasp against the wall, knocking chips of rust away.
“There’s something in the stones here, lad, something powerful and dark. Stay still long enough and you’ll hear it whispering, insidious and soft. Mayhap that’ll be the key, which is the thing I endeavor to utilize with the delightful gift you’ve brought me.”
By the wall, something rasped, loud enough that Grim’s large eyes turned that way. Toby’s mouth went dry with fear, and he raised his voice. “Is that why you needed Dem? Thicket kids too weak ’n scrawny for you? Or did he just see you prowlin’ around in the wrong place?”
The Rider grunted as he finished chaining Trip, then turned toward Toby, frowning. “I fear panic has weakened your mind, lad. Why would I take what would be missed? You homeless orphans are all I need. No one will ever miss you and, trust me, down here, no one will find you.”
“Liar,” Toby growled, struggling again against the unseen bonds that held him still. “You took him, ’n you brought him here! How many before this have you twisted?”
The Rider shrugged and started toward Toby, his steps measured and unhurried. “I’ve contented myself with these three. And Grim, of course. He was the first — needed a little help, and demons are so susceptible to being bound by those of stronger will.” He smirked, and glanced over toward Grim who sniffed at the barrels. “Grim, heel.”
The demon-possessed boy yelped, yanked backwards toward the Rider. He struggled, then his shoulders slumped as he ambled over to cower at the Rider’s feet. Toby didn’t miss the malevolent look from beneath the boy’s twisted brow.
“You see?” the Rider said, smiling again. “Let’s get you put away. Before we work on you, lad, you’re going to tell me where that girl is.” He paused, frowning. “Come to that, I thought I saw her with you. Where has she gotten off to?”
In answer, a blurred shape dashed out from the shadows. “Here,” Dani said, and swung a length of wood, twisting her whole body to give it power. The beam caught the Rider underneath his arm, and he staggered back. A cool wash flowed over Toby’s skin, and he was running before he realized that he could move again.
“Grim — attack!” the Rider barked, and Toby heard the wet slap of feet angle his direction. He reached the table, looked frantically for a weapon, and grabbed a long slender blade.
Turning, Toby met the crazed hungry look of Grim as he leaped through the air, hands reaching, fingers open. With a shout, Toby yanked the dagger up and held it with both hands.
It punched into Grim’s throat, and the demon fell onto him, knocking him back against the table. Groaning, Toby twisted and shoved, pushing the thrashing boy off.
“No!” Rider shouted, a flash of fire throwing Dani to the side, her board broken and aflame.
Black inky smoke poured out of the ragged red gash of Grim’s throat, an overwhelming feeling of malice seeping into the room.
Toby ran, reached the blanket, and yanked it aside. Instead of a tunnel, the doorway led into a small room that contained nothing other than a slab of stone. Red crusted handprints covered the black-mottled gray surface. A pool of dark blood slowly swirled in a trough around the altar as if a current compelled it to forever move.
It made him want to bow, to press his face into that blood and breath in deep, to drink the life-giving fluid into his lungs and let it take him up and away to a place free of these pathetic sorrows.
Dimly, he heard Dani screaming; Toby looked down at the ocean of blood, amazed he could’ve ever thought it a mere moat. He knelt, hands reaching out, and the blood bulged up, ready to meet his flesh. It felt eager and hot, hungry and powerful.
“Toby!” Something grabbed his shirt and yanked him back. The shadow-streaked bloody hand followed him, and Toby looked in horror as it reached toward his boot, ready to drag him in if he wouldn’t come willingly. Scrambling back, he smacked into Dani.
“You’ll pay,” the Rider snarled, standing in front of them, his bald head glistening in the torch’s light. He raised his hands, and the chains in the room trembled and rattled, then flung themselves out. Toby dove to the side, the steel length clipping his shoulder, trying to twist around his arm.
The roar of rushing wind drowned out everything as darkness flowed over him. He felt the hungry hatred of Grim, familiar now in a way both intimate and terrible. It passed him over, and the Rider shouted as it slammed into him.
“Quick,” he gasped, crawling over to where Dani lay dazed. “We’ve gotta go.”
She shook herself, and together they ran toward the other door. It opened for them, and they ran into the dark tunnel beyond. An unholy shriek tore the air, loud enough that Toby clamped his hands over his ears and could still feel it splitting his skull.
“Amara commands you, yield!” the Rider howled, and the shrieking drowned even him out before cutting silent.
Dani swore and sped up, leaving Toby gasping as he pushed himself to keep pace. No doubt the Rider had gained control already, and the demon would give chase.
A soft welcoming glow of the luminescent mold surrounded them when they turned the corner. It left no clues as to the right way to go. Toby followed Dani, praying to any god he could think of that she’d know the path.
She didn’t slow when the tunnels split, and though her limbs must be burning as much as his were, she only skidded to a stop when a dead-end loomed ahead.
“Shit,” she said, starting to turn, but Toby grabbed her hand and pulled.
“Wait.” He ran to the wall and looked down. The toe prints protruded from the stone’s base. His mind flashed back to the heel print he’d seen in the Peach’s cellar. “Help me look. This has to open!”
He pressed his hands over the stone, looking for a latch or an opening, some way to yank the wall apart.
“We left them,” Dani gasped, trembling by his side as she searched. “I didn’t even think, I just…ran. They’re there, back there, alive and twisting, ready to be carved open and implanted with —”
“Stop,” Toby said, glaring at her as he continued to feel. “We had no choice. We had to run! You ’n I, we couldn’t stand against them, not alone. We’ll get help ’n go back, I swear we will!”
“There’s always a choice,” Dani said, her voice soft, eyes lowered. “Always.”
“No there ain’t. Sometimes, the strong just shit on the weak ’n we’ve gotta take it till we can find a way to stop it. Not all of us have your strength, Dani. Not all of us can take on a whole gang of bullies like Dale’s — ’n if we got our asses kicked by them, what hope do we have against Rider?”
Dani didn’t say anything, but she grunted as she yanked a root away from the wall. A soft grinding made Toby step back, the wall sliding apart to reveal the dark Inn’s basement.
Whispers echoed around them, coming from the tunnel behind. “Hurry,” Toby said, slipping through the gap and jumping over a puddle. He ran up the stairs and his fingers fumbled with the latch that opened the cellar door.
“Push,” he grunted, throwing his shoulder against the heavy barrier. Dani came up the steps behind him, her hands planted against the wood. Somewhere, her fingers had gotten cut, nails split and bloodied. The sleeves of her torn dress fell back as her muscles strained against the weight. Toby stared, horrified by the clear handprint bruises that gripped her forearms.
They were huge; far too large to be even Dale’s.
The cellar door gave and a wash of cold air slapped them. Salty wind howled in the ocean’s fury, dark clouds blocking out the sky. Rain fell, sweeping into the cellar, soaking them in seconds as they stumbled into the open and toward the Inn’s shelter.
“Dani, your arms —”
“Not now,” she snapped, glaring at him so fiercely that Toby nearly tripped. She pushed past him, starting to run toward the streets.
Dreadfully familiar laughter came from the Inn’s shadows. Dale slouched against the wall, leering at Dani, Reg at his side. “Didn’t I tell you that they were hanging out here, Reg?”
“You sure did,” Reg said, pushing away from the wall.
“You have to run,” Dani said, shaking her head, eyes wide. Fear flickered there, and the sight of it made Toby pissed off all over again. They didn’t have time for this shit!
The boys laughed, and spread out to block their path away from the cellar. The rain whipped around them, dripping off their faces. Dale’s cat-green eyes looked Dani up and down, and he smiled cruelly. “I don’t think so, bitch. We have unfinished business, we four. In this storm, there won’t be anyone who’ll hear you above the wind’s howl. Don’t fight, and we’ll make the beating short.”
An explosion behind Toby made him drop to the rain-slick ground, and a spray of wooden splinters punched into his back. Darkness poured out of the cellar, flashing eyes in the swirl swept over them.
“What in Daivat’s name?” Dale gasped, staring in horror.
“Fool,” Dani gasped, bleeding as she yanked a wooden shard out of her neck.
“Get back!” Reg shouted, his face red as he stepped in front of Dale, his fists raised in menace.
The darkness rumbled in wicked laughter, and Reg screamed as it poured into his mouth and nose.
His eyes turned black as night.
19
You hurt Master,” Grim said through Reg’s mouth, and his voice gained extra cadences, like men speaking in unison. “I like that.”
“Reg?” Dale stammered, staring at his friend in horror, a hand outstretched. “Reg, it’s me. Stop fooling around. We’ve got to make them pay, right?”
Grim turned toward him, his smile ghastly and sharp. “Oh, yes. I’ll make them pay. And you. I want to eat you, mortal. Slowly. Would you like that? I’ll keep you awake, and maybe, I’ll tear your leg off and make you eat it too.”
Slowly, as to not attract its attention, Toby slipped to Dani’s side. “We have to run,” he whispered, quickly. “It won’t make a scene. It can’t.”
“Can’t I?” Grim asked without turning away from Dale. “Master is hurt; he can’t stop me, not while I’m doing what he wants.” Finally, he looked over at Toby and licked his lips, drooling. “Let’s start.”
