The Diamond and the Rough, page 14
part #1 of Jean Archer Series
Before she could sit down and give in to the soul-stealing powers all around her, the world shattered. Screaming, she threw her hands up to protect her face as tiny glass missiles flew around her, slicing her hands, piercing her forearms and neck, but sparing her eyes and face. As suddenly as the cacophony began, it ended.
Rena blinked and looked up the hall from where she sat. Kurt stood with a battered metal coat stand in his hands. He had speared the first mirror on each side of the hallway, sending a chain reaction along the corridor. It had reached and passed Rena, showering her with shattered glass, and proceeded onward.
Still shaking from the weariness, Serena climbed to her feet and shuffled her way to where Kurt stood. He put out a strong arm, which she accepted, and they moved off down a different hallway.
20
“Room for Despair” Chad stood in a small room. Red streaks – blood smears, he realized – decorated the muted gray walls from waist-high down. Not blood from the walls, but blood pressed onto them.
Looking around he found a gray ceiling and what use to be gray carpet, which had been stained with filth to a deep, murky black. From the stench rising around him, he didn’t want to guess what had soiled the carpet.
Behind him he heard a whimpering sound that startled him. He turned and found the fourth wall, but no door. Instead, a child that looked much like he had in his adolescence was cowering in a corner. He had on clothes just as filthy as the carpet and his hands were stained red. His fingers ended in stubs, nails torn and broken off. The red on his hands and forearms matched the red on the walls. In horror he realized the red streaks were from the child trying to claw his way out of a room with no doors, no window and a ceiling that, as Chad looked, appeared to be shrinking. It was now just overhead and as he paid attention, it dropped an inch or two and touched the crown of his head.
Beside him, the whimper had become a pained moan and the child had begun pulling at his clothing.
As he stood there in the gradually shrinking room, Chad stared at the child as he began to claw at his flesh, tearing away at the skin, then the meat, exposing tendon and bone.
Then, when the child began clawing at his face, Chad reached forward. “No, don’t–!”
With a banshee shriek, the child pushed Chad away and clawed at its own eyes, razor-like talons having grown where his fingernails had been. In just a few seconds, the child had torn away the flesh of his face; now just a bloody skull remained, the jaw held shut by tendon and muscle, the eye sockets dark bloody pits where orbs had once been.
Chad retched once, then twice, so suddenly that he splattered the contents of his stomach on his clothes and shoes.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, he looked up and spotted a door where moments ago only a wall had been. Desperate, he lunged for the door and yanked it open, only then noticing the mechanism bolted to the ceiling, which he swore hadn’t been there before. The motion of the door opening activated a series of pulleys and levers, at its end a large axe which swung down and sliced the child’s head clean off.
Chad screamed for the second time that day, stumbling backward from the room...into the astonished arms of Rena and Kurt.
“Chad, are you all right?” Rena asked, patting him down like a mother looking for broken bones on a child.
His eyes round with terror, Chad managed to point to the open door and the room beyond. The room appeared more in shadow now than it had before, as if it had lost some of its realness. “Little kid – I killed – Oh, my–” He stammered himself silent.
Kurt stepped over to the door, looked in, then closed it. “Nothing there,” he signed to Chad. “Empty room.”
“But he was there!” Chad protested, struggling against Rena’s firm ministrations.
“Calm down,” she said, keeping him held down with ease. “We’ve all been seeing pretty strange stuff. Personally, I don’t think I’ll sleep again for a year.”
Chad looked up at her, an imploring, barely hopeful look in his eyes. “Not real?” he asked.
Smiling kindly, she stroked his face with the back of her hand and said, “No, honey, not real. And neither is this.” Her smile turned to a growl, fingers to claws that tore into his face.
Yelling and thrashing, Chad fought with all his strength, but the ghouls still tore open his soul and feasted on it.
21
“A Guardian’s Patterns Revealed in Dust” If felt to Jean as if they’d been running forever without finding another living soul. Undead souls, they had in plenty. Some of them seemed harmless, others were struck down by Valera’s staff. The more Jean watched the Guardian use it, the more she appreciated Valera’s skill.
Near to exhaustion, the five of them crashed into what could only have once been the ballroom. Longer on a side than most basketball courts and half as wide as it was long, three large chandeliers hung in a row from the ceiling.
As they entered, Jean automatically checked for ethereal threats and with relief found none. She called a halt to their flight and the five of them collapsed to the hard floor.
“I’d about kill for some water,” Summer groaned to the ceiling. She lay back and closed her eyes. A moment later, a water bottle bumped against her head. Looking over, she saw Toff smiling at her and pointing to the clear container.
“Be my guest,” he said. Groaning now in anticipation, Summer grabbed it up, opened it and took a big swig. Choking and gasping a moment later, she rolled over and vomited.
Concern on his face, Toff asked, “What happened?” He was beside his sister immediately, helpless to lend assistance.
The wave of stomach heaves passed and Summer glared up at her brother. “What’s wrong with you?” she demanded.
His mouth agape, Toff said, “What? Did it go stale or something?” He reached down to pick up the water bottle and froze. What glugged out of the clear plastic wasn’t clean, sparkling water, but dark crimson and warm. He fell backward onto his backside, his mouth hanging open.
By now, the other three had turned and stared. “I’m guessing that’s not tomato juice,” Jean speculated. “I swear, Summer, when it left my hand it was water. I
promise!” Holding up a hand, Spring silenced her brother and said, “Relax. She knows. I think she’s just in shock, is all.”
Summer had curled up and was hugging her knees, her mouth still haloed in red.
Ever the one to take charge, Spring kicked the bloodfilled water bottle across the ballroom floor, then knelt beside her sister and, using her own sleeve, cleaned the last of the mess from Summer’s face. She talked to her middle sister in low whispers, calming her.
After a minute or so, Summer was able to pat her brother on the arm. He turned, his eyes red with unshed, angry tears, and enveloped her in a hug.
The kind of hug that always made Jean feel fluttery all the way to her toes. What’s wrong with me, thinking of that at a time like this? she wondered, but at that moment, the only thing she wanted was to be folded into those strong arms and never let go. Instead, she said, “Okay, we still need a place to take cover.”
“I’m starting to think that we’re safest out in the open,” Spring said. “At least then you can see what’s coming, can’t you?”
Jean’s eyebrows shot up at the thought of being on their front line of defense. Here sat three accomplished martial artists and they were looking to her for protection! Are you kidding me? But aloud she said, “I guess I could. I’m not sure how this...ability works.” She looked around and found Valera standing vigil behind her. “Do you?” she asked, done with feeling stupid talking to thin air.
Valera looked thoughtful for a while, then said, “I believe that you have the ability to see anything manifesting from the spiritual realm.”
“Lovely. Then, is there any place here we can hide?” she asked. “Someplace defendable?”
Valera paused again and this time the light of an idea shown in her eyes. Looking at the floor, she walked out into the middle of the ballroom without leaving a footprint in the thick dust. “If you carefully gather here in the center, disturbing as little of the dust as you can, I believe I may be able to create a circle of power which will shield you until it is broken,” she suggested.
Nodding, Jean said, “And what could break it?”
“Well, a more powerful attack than the amount of energy powering the circle, or if the rune itself is broken by someone smudging it.”
Jean thought the idea over for a few moments, then nodded decisively. “Okay, that’s what we’ll do.” She turned to her friends. “I need you to carefully walk to the center of the ballroom one at a time, smudging as little of the dust as possible.”
Four sets of eyes looked on her with doubt, but she held firm, championing Valera’s idea.
Sighing, Toff said, “Okay, I’ll go.” With that he took long, careful strides toward Valera, stopping beside her without even knowing it.
“Okay, it doesn’t matter who’s next, just make sure to step in Toff’s footprints,” Jean instructed.
Summer split off from her sisters and in silence made her way to stand beside her brother. She clasped his hand in hers in a show of solidarity.
One by one the girls followed with precision and in the end it was Jean who ended up complaining about the length of Toff’s stride.
When the five of them stood united, Jean looked over at Valera and said, “Go for it.”
The Guardian smiled and with the tip of her staff, began tracing a circle around the crowd.
The Rainn siblings gasped as, seeming from nowhere, a circle began to form in the dust around them. It spanned several feet across, large enough for all of them to sit down.
“No reason to be uncomfortable, ey?” Jean asked Valera.
“My thoughts precisely,” the Guardian replied without looking up. She had completed the first circle and was now tracing a second one about six inches out from the first, with the teenagers creating the “bull’s eye” in the center. Everyone watched in silence as the ends of the second circle came together, then Valera began tracing unfamiliar patterns in the space between the two circles.
Jean tried to picture in her mind what it must look like to have all of this happening while being unable to see Valera. On one hand, it validates my claim of the Guardian’s existence. On the other hand, it validates my claim of the Guardian’s existence!
The whole process took several minutes, but when it was done, the five of them stood inside a large circle made of symbols and sigils that looked older than anything they’d seen painted on ancient cave walls.
As the last phase of the process, Valera touched her staff to the edge of the completed circle and said a word in a flowing, beautiful language; red energy sparked out of the staff and began racing around the circle, lighting its path as it went. Moments later, the circle and the runes glowed with the same red energy that chased itself around Valera’s weapon.
With a nod of satisfaction, the Guardian turned to Jean. “That’s the best I can do. It should suffice. I’ll be back as soon as I can. In the meantime, don’t let anyone – or anything – break the circle. No matter what. Understand?”
Jean agreed and said, “Right, no one breaks the circle, no matter what.”
Valera bowed her head slightly and said, “I’ll see you soon.”
Then she was just gone, Jean would try to explain later.
At Summer’s suggestion, the five ghost chasers sat in a circle, backs to each other to face the protective rings. “This way, we have a full view of the entire large room and nothing can sneak up on us.”
It made sense to Jean, plus the room’s open design assisted. The way it reflected sound talking at a regular speaking volume was all they needed to communicate.
When everyone had taken their place Jean tried to explain what she knew. It was a disappointingly short tale, in her opinion. The more she talked about what Valera had said and explained the most recent nightmare, the sillier she felt. Then she would look over at the red runes in the circle of power and her conviction would return.
“What I don’t understand is why this is happening now,” Summer said.
Spring blinked at her and said, “That’s what you don’t understand? Am I missing something?”
Jean smiled at the girls’ easy teasing and for a moment it seemed like they were back on the Rainn’s trampoline in the back yard, sitting in a circle and telling ghost stories. But the stories had turned out to be real and the ghosts were out to kill them, or worse. She felt it was her job to keep her team calm – and alive – until they managed to escape.
“Valera hasn’t said why now. All she’s said is that this valley is collecting energy. Probably the same energy that’s powering this circle,” Jean theorized, intentionally keeping her voice even and level.
“That’s impossible,” Autumn protested.
“Maybe, but after what we’ve experienced so far tonight, and last night at Lost Lake, I’m willing to take her at her word,” Jean said.
Toff looked over at her. “What happened last night at Lost Lake?” The accusatory tone in his voice gave her a strong impression of how Toff may have felt earlier in the evening when she’d found out he and Kurt had already scouted the asylum.
Unable to meet his gaze, Jean traced designs at the dust near her shoes as she went through the Camelot investigation detail-by-detail.
22
“Disheartening Discovery” It seemed like they’d been walking through the massive building for forever. Each turn in the hall took them down another corridor and after a while Kurt couldn’t be sure where they were in the facility, or where they were in relation to the rest of the team.
So, when he and Rena rounded another corner and almost stumbled over Chad, it came as a bit of a shock. The kid was laying on his side, curled into a ball beside a plain closed door.
“Chad!” Rena exclaimed and knelt down beside him. Kurt followed her example. Closer, now, he could detect the faint twitching of Chad shivering.
“Chad?” Rena said, trying to cradle his head in her lap, wiping his hair back from his sweaty forehead.
Scanning his friend with his gaze, Kurt still couldn’t understand why, when he concentrated he could hear Rena’s voice perfectly.
His quick triage didn’t reveal any visible wounds, but he did notice a couple curious things: Chad’s fingers were curled like claws; he smelled like he’d been thrown into a dumpster outside a street restaurant shut down for poor sanitation by the Health Department; though his eyes remained open, Kurt was sure that they didn’t see him or Rena. But when they focused on her a few moments later, the shivering stopped, his eyes bulged and he cried out in fear.
Rena winced and for a brief moment Kurt was glad the weird ability he had somehow acquired hadn’t kicked in where Chad was concerned.
Chad began thrashing around, knocking Rena and Kurt both away, then curling into an even tighter ball.
“Hey!” she exclaimed as she fell back against the gray wall. “Chad, stop it. I’m just trying to help you.”
The boy’s shivering continued, now accompanied by his lips moving in what Kurt could only assume was muttering.
Rena looked to Kurt for support and all he could see was pleading in her eyes. He shrugged and said, “Your guess is as good as mine.”
Rena knelt beside Chad again and tried to soothe him. This time, though, Chad didn’t thrash around or push her away. She leaned down, putting her lips right by his ear and whispered to him for several seconds.
Not wanting to eavesdrop, Kurt stood and walked several steps up the hallway. Looking around at the pale gray walls and the once-taupe carpet, it occurred to him that he’d been in this hallway before. According to memory, they weren’t very far from the balcony that Chad had hung down from. He took his radio from a back pocket, glad it hadn’t been lost in the chaos, and keyed the mic. “Radar to Fuzz. Radar to Fuzz. Do you read me?” he said. l
Jean wasn’t quite finished with her story when Toff’s radio chirped and they all heard Kurt’s clear voice calling for Toff to respond.
With relief on his face, Toff grabbed his radio and replied, “Fuzz to Radar. I can hear you, I mean we can hear you. Are you guys okay?”
After a burst of static, Kurt replied, “I think so. I have Rah-Rah with me and we just tripped over Toast laying in The Diamond and the Rough - 163
a ball on the floor. He’s in hard shape.”
Beside her, Jean heard Summer ask, “Since when can
Kurt have a regular conversation over a walkie-talkie?” Jean shrugged and said to Toff, “Ask him if he knows
where the ballroom is.”
Nodding, Toff did as she requested.
After a few moments of silence, Kurt said, “I think so.
Is that where you are?”
“Yep,” Toff said. “We’re waiting for Jean’s Guardian
Angel to find us a safe way out of this place.”
It was a longer stream of static before Kurt said,
sounding caught off-guard, “Uhh...okay.”
Growing impatient, Jean snatched the radio from Toff
and said into it, “Just come and find us. We’ll explain when
you get here.”
There came no reply.
Jean scowled and said, “Radar? You there?” Still silence.
Then Kurt asked, “Fuzz, you still there?”
Baffled, Jean handed the radio back to Toff. “I’m here. Jean was trying to talk to you, but I
guess you couldn’t hear her,” Toff said, shrugging at Jean
helplessly.
“Nope, just you and Rah-Rah, so far. Maybe Toast.
