Night Cries (Hunters of the Dark #2) Page 10

  Echoes met them as they walked up to the first line of pews, the rain providing a serene soundtrack to the scene. A red carpet trailed up to an altar, matching the fabric the pews were lined with. On top of the altar sat a lone cup that Rachel imagined to be empty, but brought to mind images of red wine and the blood of Christ she’d been taught that it transformed into upon accepting it.

  “It’s creepy this empty,” Shanna whispered, running a hand over a mahogany armrest.

  “I’ll say,” Rachel agreed. “If we’re seeking refuge anywhere tonight, it’s not going to be here.”

  The wind suddenly threw the doors open behind them and pelted the inside of the floor with rain. The girls ran over to the doors to shut them quickly, but not before a bird flew inside in a flurry and disappeared somewhere over their heads, also seeking refuge from the storm.

  Suddenly getting a strange feeling, Shanna turned around and looked over the church slowly, pausing at the shadows that deepened in the corners. A shiver went up her spine. “I don’t like this,” she murmured.

  Rachel turned to look back at her, wiping rainwater from her face as she did so. “What’s that? Church? Or just Greek Orthodox churches? I’m not so fond of them myself.”

  “No, not the church, just…” she glanced around some more and shook her head. “I can’t get rid of this feeling like…we’re being watched.”

  “Watched?” Rachel perked up and swept the room with her eyes as well. “By whom? The scholars? Ghosts?”

  “I…I don’t know. I just had a similar feeling when we first arrived in town, like someone was in the shadows just…observing us. It just feels creepy here.” She shrugged and tried to laugh it off. “Maybe I have a concussion from the accident. Is paranoia one of the signs?”

  Rachel smiled thinly and took Shanna’s arm in her hand. “I’m sure you’re just fine. But maybe we should brave the storm if it’s making you feel uncomfortable here.”

  “Well, it’s not a big-”

  “Listen, I think there’s a lull right now.”

  Listening carefully, Shanna brightened. “I think you’re right.” She jogged over toward the doors as Rachel looked back around the room one more time, her eyes narrowing on a dark doorway behind the altar.

  “You are right,” Shanna called back, pushing the doors open. “We should probably get moving now unless we want to be trapped here.”

  Rachel reluctantly turned back toward her friend and forced a smile as she joined her. “Yes. Let’s go. I thought I saw a shop up the street where we can steal a few jackets.”

  Shanna frowned.

  “Not steal literally,” Rachel explained as she led her out of the church, umbrella overhead. “I have plenty of money on me. We’ll just have to leave the tags so they can ring them up later.”

  “Sounds fair.”

  “They’re lucky they’re getting any sales,” Rachel said with a nod, throwing one final glance into the church as she shut the doors. As the doors clicked closed, she noted a feather on the ground, yellow with hues of blue and pink running through it. She tried to remember if the bird that had flown in to avoid the storm had been such a color, as Shanna pulled her along.

  “I think I want a hooded sweatshirt,” Shanna told her. “I get cold easily.”

  “I have to approve all outfits that I’m purchasing with my money,” Rachel informed her with a stern look.

  ***

  It was late in the day by the time they reached the beach, being forced to settle in houses and shops along the way with the force of the fickle storm. By that point, it was easy to discern which way the lighthouse lay, as it loomed large on an outcrop of rocks, a silent sentinel watching over the town from a short distance away.

  “Shouldn’t it be…lit up?” Shanna wondered.

  Rachel glanced at her uneasily. “Not if there’s no one there to run it.”

  Their eyes met briefly before continuing on toward their destination, this time meeting with few shelters in which to seek refuge as the rain raged and ebbed at its whim. They were at its mercy until they finally reached the lighthouse, both girls soaked to the bone despite their umbrellas and new clothing.

  As they paused in the doorway, Rachel struggling to pick the lock, Shanna watched the waves crash against the nearby rocks angrily. It had been bad enough being sprayed by the saltwater along the beach, but from this vantage point, the sea took on a new frightening intensity, the waves seemingly much larger as they charged steadily toward land, determined to batter it relentlessly. She blinked as she watched a wave disperse on nearby rocks, splattering mist far and wide with its force.

  “It’s open,” Rachel announced behind her finally. “Come on.”

  Shanna obeyed passively and the spell of the sea was instantly broken the moment the door closed behind them. She looked down at herself and tried not to think about how awful she must appear. She shivered lightly and smiled weakly at Rachel while she pulled off her coat.

  They had entered a small room where shoes gathered on the floor unceremoniously and other coats were hung carelessly on hooks. Shanna added hers to the collection and set her umbrella against the wall beside the door. Despite making a fair amount of noise, no one appeared as they moved on to the next room cautiously.

  Across another small room was a small living quarters of sorts, where the person who kept up the light house must have stayed, had they been present. A quick peek across a messy loft area confirmed their suspicions as an untidy room with clothes thrown every which way faced a kitchen littered with neglected dishes and pans.

  “A bachelor’s pad if I ever saw one,” Rachel observed.

  Shanna nodded slowly and paused as they turned back to the small room they’d crossed. A spiral staircase led upstairs and as she gazed upward, she noted that it went nearly to the top of the old building that groaned with the barrage of gales outside.

  “Well, I’m not getting any sense that the mystery will be solved here, but let’s see what else we can find,” Rachel said, grabbing hold of the banister and plodding up the stairs.

  Shanna followed reluctantly, surprised to find the railing wet to the touch. She gazed upward again and noted drops of water falling from overhead, and shared her observation with Rachel.

  “Yes…” Rachel turned her head to the side. “I hear wind…like an open window. The person who was here must have left it open when they abandoned the place.”

  Shanna considered this and nodded as she followed the other girl slowly up the creaking, rickety staircase. As they neared the top of the building, the noise of the whistling air increased and when they finally emerged at the top, they were buffeted with wind that carried rainwater in its wake. They moved out of the way of the wind and stood blinking disbelieving at a huge hole in the side of the building. One entire side of the lighthouse was open to the elements, the window that had occupied the space having shattered all over the top floor, covering the hardwood with sections of glass as large as machetes, as well as thousands of tiny slivers that threatened to slice any unprotected feet to ribbons. Along with the window, part of the ceiling had collapsed on the side of the building that faced the sea, wooden beams and shingles mixed with plaster and cement over a large area of floor.

  “What…did this?” Shanna gasped. “The storm?”

  Rachel frowned. “Whatever it was came from outside - it got glass inside everywhere.” She pointed to the light beacon that was suspended on a platform just over the staircase. “And it was probably after that.”

  Shanna swallowed hard at the crumbled frame of the beacon, crushed roughly into the shape of a ball, glass covering the platform haphazardly. It had originally been about the size of a loveseat, but was now hardly fit to be a pillow that lay upon it.

  “That can’t be good,” Shanna said weakly.

  “You’re telling me.” Rachel tentatively pushed the former beacon, which shifted on the platform with a loud protesting squeak. “And t
his thing isn’t exactly lightweight.”

  “Hello?” A man’s voice called out suddenly desperate over the sound of the wind and rain. “Is someone there? Anyone, please? I’m trapped!”

  Shanna looked over at Rachel momentarily before springing into action. The voice had been coming from the rubble of the collapsed ceiling. Together, they moved a beam and sections of ceiling as the man continued to call out to them.

  “Oh, thank goodness. Thank goodness,” the man wept as they finally caught a glimpse of him, dusted white from plaster and wet from the storm. “Thank you, thank you.”

  They were finally able to clear the man of the debris and he sank back, as if exhausted.

  “Are you alright?” Shanna asked him gently as he labored for breath. “Can you walk?” She moved to help him up when he suddenly sat up straight and wiped the dust from his eyes. He looked around at his surroundings with something of wonder.

  “Sure hope he’s insured,” Rachel muttered as she moved closer to examine him.

  “Who’s there?” he called out loudly. “Hello?”

  Shanna blinked and stared at him. “Are you…I’m sure it’s the dust from your eyes, sir. But we’re going to help. We’ll get you to a hosp-”

  “Hello?” he called again, louder.

  “We’re right here,” Shanna told him.

  “He can’t understand you, Shanna,” Rachel said. “He has no idea what you’re saying.”

  “What, he’s in shock?”

  “No, he’s Greek.” Rachel laughed, grabbing his arm to help him up.

  And just like with the cat before, her hands went right through his arm.

  The man shuddered and pulled his arm closer to his body as Rachel and Shanna both stared, wide-eyed at the man as he got to his feet.

  “What…can’t you see us?” Shanna demanded. “Can he not hear us?”

  Rachel shook her head slowly as the man backed slowly toward the staircase.

  He paused before climbing down the stairs saying “Thank you, if you are an angel. If you are the devils who lured the other men to their deaths, I curse you.” With that, he descended in a hurry, like he couldn’t get away fast enough.

  Shanna stared at the point on the staircase in which she’d last seen his head before he disappeared completely, before turning to look at Rachel. “What…what does it mean?

  “The cat…” Rachel sat down on the floor carefully. “Just like the cat…I couldn’t touch him.”

  “But we can touch everything else,” Shanna said. “See?” She grabbed some of the rubble, pushed at the beacon. “We’re real. We can touch things.”

  “But not anyone else,” Rachel murmured, then smirked.

  “What?”

  Rachel began laughing and Shanna watched her carefully, with a sinking heart, as tears rolled from her eyes with the laughter. After a few minutes of this, Rachel finally stopped with a sigh and wiped at her eyes. “We’re all alone.”

  Shanna looked up sharply. “No. I know what this means.”

  Rachel pursed her lips, suppressing another laugh. “Well?”

  “Isn’t is obvious? The cat…that man…they aren’t ghosts. We are.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “What…we’re not dead,” Rachel insisted.

  “Oh, yeah?” Shanna began pacing the room feverishly. “The blast - the white light, for God’s sake! I don’t know why I didn’t realize this sooner. Obviously, the thing that got the men from this town got us too. That’s why we couldn’t find the other hunters. They survived. We didn’t.”

  Rachel smiled despite herself. “Don’t be so dramatic. We’re fine. Something just happened. Something…that light. Whatever it was, it obviously disrupted our molecules. And now I sound like I belong on an episode of Star Trek.”

  “I think I actually saw this on an episode of Star Trek,” Shanna frowned.

  “Okay, but this isn’t Star Trek, so let’s…” Her voice trailed off for a moment. “Okay, my hand felt a little cold when I passed it through the cat and that man. And the cat obviously felt the same thing, because it kept bristling when I tried to touch it. And it looked around for the source of the cold air once.”

  “The man cradled his arm to himself,” Shanna added. “Wait…ghosts can make the temperature drop.”

  “So can demons. And plenty of other things, so let’s not jump to conclusions, okay? I very much doubt that this is an afterlife of any kind. We can easily interact with our surroundings. We just need to make contact with someone who can help us.”

  “I…guess we might not be ghosts then. On the bright side, being invisible should be helpful in rescuing the other hunters.”

  “See?” Rachel nudged her. “It’s not as bad as death. And once we rescue our comrades, Jade the brain will find a way to restore us.”

  “But first we have to find them.”

  Rachel sighed. “Yes, there is that.”

  ***

  “I don’t think my feet would feel this sore in the afterlife,” Rachel whined, pausing to kick off her shoes and rub her feet two hours later. “I don’t think I’ve ever walked for this long in my entire life.”

  “Who’s exaggerating now?” Shanna asked with a wide smile. “And anyway, if this is Hell, your feet most certainly would hurt.”

  “Ha ha. So amusing.”

  “I thought so.”

  “But I doubt there would be shopping in Hell. Although, being stuck alone with you for all time…I take it back - this is most likely Hell.”

  Shanna chuckled and looked up at the sky. The rain had let up nearly thirty minutes earlier, allowing the girls to wander the city freely, trying to find something that would help them in their quest since the lighthouse had yielded nothing.

  “Like what?” Shanna had asked as they’d left the lighthouse to trek back into town.

  “Who knows? Something’s got to begin making sense here, hadn’t it?”

  But nothing had yet. And Shanna was beginning to lose hope that it would. She looked up at another white-washed house and let out a breath. “This is like being stuck in Suburbia - everything looks the same.”

  “Another point for the Hell scenario?”

  “I don’t know. I kind of like suburbs, despite the bad wrap they get. They may be safe and sterile, but that’s on the outside. It’s what goes on inside those houses that counts, right? Creativity and culture can come just as easily from a suburb as from the heart of a city.”

  Rachel considered. “In cities, cultures converge though. In suburbs, there’s a fear of what's different. Hardly the best environment to breed new ideas.”

  “True…but there’s also less distraction to focus on art.”

  “Wow. You really did grow up in the Midwest, didn’t you?”

  Shanna glared at her.

  “Is it my imagination or does that sound like an alarm clock?” Rachel asked suddenly, grabbing Shanna’s arm in her excitement.

  Shanna tilted her head and confirmed the sound. “But it might be on a battery. Let’s not get our hopes up…again.”

  Rachel nodded and took off at a run toward the sound. “I think it’s the house at the end of the street!” She reached the front door and was caught off guard by the door having been firmly locked in place. “Huh. The first locked door we’ve encountered here and it had to be this house. Why not?”

  “No big deal.” Shanna grabbed a rock from beside the cobblestone sidewalk and slammed it into the glass pane beside the door, taking Rachel by surprise.

  “Jesus!”

  “I’m sure they won’t mind,” Shanna mumbled as she knocked out the remaining glass so she wouldn’t cut herself, and reached her arm inside. She fumbled for a moment, but eventually found the lock and opened the door with a wide smile. “Voila!”

  “Alright,” Rachel smiled. “Let’s end this nightmare.” She took off into the house with Shanna a step behind and followed the sound of the al
arm to a small bedroom off of the living room. Rachel turned the buzzer off and they both took in the lamp that had been left on, the humming of the refrigerator in the kitchen a few doors down. “Finally! Now for the phone…”

  They couldn’t find a phone in the bedroom, but quickly located one in the kitchen, where Rachel had to take a few deep breaths to brace herself before picking up the receiver. She paused as she held it to her ear and her face broke out into a wide grin. “A dial tone! I hear a dial tone!”

  Shanna hopped on her feet excitedly as Rachel dialed one of the emergency numbers to patch them directly through to Valor, from memory.

  After a few seconds, Rachel heard Valor bark a greeting into the phone.

  “Valor!” Rachel cried. “It’s Rachel. Something went wrong with the scholars and we got separated from the rest of the hunters. We’re sort of trapped in this deserted town and…I don’t know, things aren’t right. We…”

  Her voice trailed off as Valor talked over her. “Hello? Is someone there?”

  “Hello?! Valor, it’s me, Rachel!” she screamed into the phone. “Please, help us - we’re stuck here. Me and Shanna are separated from everyone else!”

  “Trace this call,” Valor instructed someone in a low voice before returning to the receiver. “I don’t believe that this number has been reached out of coincidence. If this is one of our employees, rest easy with the knowledge that help is on the way. I’m going to hang up now, but I repeat, help is on the way.”

  Rachel blinked as a dial tone entered her ear again. She stared at Shanna as she replaced the receiver in its cradle.

  “What? She didn’t hear you at all?” Shanna asked nervously.

  “No, not at all. They’re sending help, but…if she can’t hear us, and the man couldn’t see us…and we can’t touch anything living - how are they going to be able to find us?”

  Shanna stared back at her numbly. She was right, of course. “We’ll find a way. We can…write on a piece of paper or something. They can see the things around us, even if they can’t see us.”

  “Maybe,” Rachel mumbled.