Finally, my mother stepped into the center of the circle. Like Kaylen and O’Reilly, she came forward with her own handful of the powder. But unlike the other two, she didn’t look confident or afraid. She merely gave me a warm, loving smile and, before I could even ask her to, tipped her palm back to gulp down the powder. I hurried to catch up, wishing that I could hold her hand during this process like I had with Joshua.
Our final gulps must have coincided, because we met each other’s gaze with a mirrored kind of anticipation. Her glow didn’t immediately appear either. But when it did, the entire group of chanters drew back with a collective gasp.
My mother’s glow erupted across her skin like a wildfire, burning kerosene bright. As brightly as mine, in fact. Even better, our respective glows seemed drawn to each other, their flames curling toward each other like magnets.
Like two lines of fire that wanted to join into one destructive blaze.
Immediately the Seers began to speculate about what this meant. It didn’t take them more than a few guesses to decide that maybe she and I had Seer blood after all, that some forgotten genetic trait had made us exceptionally, supernaturally flammable.
But my mother and I knew the truth. Her fire-bright glow had nothing to do with our bloodline—it had everything to do with what she had agreed to. It had everything to do with the example Ruth had set and the sacrifice my mother had agreed to make, right along with me.
While everyone else talked excitedly, I leaned close enough that she could hear my whisper.
“What . . . what did you take?”
“Sleeping pills,” she hissed back. “Almost half a bottle, as I walked over here. I’d bet we only have thirty minutes, maybe an hour, before I can’t stay upright.”
Panic crackled throughout my body like lightning. Were it not for the determined look in her eyes, I would have backed out of our plan right then and there, ordering everyone to flee while Joshua and I raced her to the hospital. But who was to say that the demons wouldn’t smash all our cars to bits before we could leave, and snatch up my mother’s soul anyway?
If we stayed, at least this path would be of our own choosing.
Feeling a little light-headed with fear and anticipation, I turned to the Seers, most of whom had started to try and call forth their own glows. One by one, each of them ignited, until a group of living torches stood next to the earthly fire. When they finished, all of them looked expectantly at me, waiting for me to give the order.
So I decided to take a page from Kaylen Patton’s book. I repressed my sudden swell of terror, threw back my shoulders, and announced, “Okay. Let’s do this.”
Chapter
THIRTY-TWO
Against my vehement protests, everyone insisted that they join me near the entrance to High Bridge instead of waiting on the riverbank below it. This development horrified me. Obviously, I had my reasons for wanting to be up there alone. But I couldn’t stop everyone from coming with me to the bridge—not without giving myself away too early.
So now Joshua walked bravely by my side, showing a level of trust that both awed and wounded me when I thought about what lay in store for us. As we crossed onto the bridge, I glanced back at Jillian and my mother to make sure they followed us; they were the only two people I actually wanted on this bridge, since my plan just wouldn’t work without them.
Of course, there was one positive element to the Seers’ and non-Seers’ presence: eleven people glowing together like pillars of fire near the demons’ earthly fortress couldn’t help but draw some attention.
Fortunately or not, the demons didn’t wait long to prove me right. No sooner had Joshua and I reached the middle of the bridge than a deep rumble rolled like thunder through the river valley. Although the night had been full of stars only a moment earlier, darkness washed over the sky. Whatever it was, it blotted out all light except for the small patches around the few streetlamps that worked along the road.
The netherworld itself, however, hadn’t yet appeared—a fact that, for the first time ever, infuriated me.
“Hey!” I roared into the night, my voice echoing off the twisted metal of the bridge. “Did you guys decide to sleep in tonight?”
Joshua yanked me closer to him and hissed, “Seriously, Amelia? What are you doing?”
“Picking a fight,” I whispered, and then spun back around to face the river.
“Are you listening to me?” I shrieked. “I’m here. Just like you so graciously requested: I’m here.”
And you brought friends.
The words hissed themselves across the bridge, loud enough for everyone to hear. But this wasn’t Eli, projecting one of his warnings. This voice belonged to a demon: I could tell by how amused it sounded, how it seemed to slither over my skin.
I didn’t have the chance to respond to it before a thousand shrieks, all blended into one horrible sound, pierced the night air.
“Wraiths!” I cried, pointing to the edge of the bridge where the first tendrils of black smoke had already begun to creep over the railing.
Our reinforcements raced to us as fast as they could, making it there just in time to see a huge cloud of inky smoke pour itself onto the pavement. The wraiths broke away from one another quickly, each forming its own pillar of darkness to counter our pillars of fire. Except, of course, there were a lot more wraiths.
I threw a glance over my shoulder at the young Seers, expecting to find some of them paralyzed with fear. I was dead wrong: Hayley and Drew both wore savage grins, as did Annabel, Felix, and Scott. This was what they’d been preparing for; this was their moment. Seeing their faces, I felt adrenaline flood my veins. Without another thought, I released Joshua’s hand and dove for the nearest wraith.
With a menacing shriek, the wraith dove for me as well. But the moment it collided with my hands, the black thing hissed and writhed away from me. Instead of counting that a victory, as I had in the past, I clawed for purchase and—unexpectedly—found it. Although the creature looked like some vile mix of liquid and vapor, it actually had substance. And an arm, judging by the limb I now grabbed.
“They’re solid!” I yelled to my companions, gripping the wraith harder and pulling it closer to my glow. As it drew nearer, it struggled more frantically and hissed so hard that disgusting gray spittle flew out from where a human mouth might be. Even worse, the portion of the shadow that I now held began to steam. The harder I clawed into it, the more the shadow billowed into the air, releasing an overpowering stench of sulfur. When the steam dissipated, the black beneath it had curled back to reveal an arm.
A human arm, reaching out desperately from the ink.
I was so stunned that I accidentally loosened my grip, and the wraith skittered away. But apparently, the damage I’d done was irreparable. As I watched, the black substance began to bubble and peel away from the wraith, falling in nasty blobs to the concrete until all that remained was a bent human figure with faintly luminescent skin.
A ghost.
The figure looked up at me, and I took an involuntary step backward. If anyone had asked me ten minutes earlier what I thought that black shadow contained, my last guess would have been this middle-aged woman with a beehive hairdo and cat-eye glasses. But there she sat, huddled and frightened in her pink Jackie O suit. Aside from her ghostly shine, this woman looked like a fifties librarian. Or maybe a mom.
“Help,” she gasped, obviously struggling for breath. “Help . . . us.”
I stood there, frozen for just another heartbeat. Then I spun back to my friends and yelled, “They’re human! But you’ve got to try to burn them—it will make the shadows peel back.”
The Seers flew into action. Hayley snatched at the wraith closest to her, while Drew lunged toward two wraiths at once, pulling them both into a weird embrace. All around me, the others did the same—even Kaylen, who leaped onto a particularly large wraith and managed to wrestle it to the pavement.
Grinning triumphantly, I turned and saw Joshua fighting as well,
although he somehow made the effort look more like a rescue. Like his cousins, he also held a wraith but as he did so, I heard him soothing it.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, crouching with it as it transformed into a hunched old man in faded denim overalls. “It’s going to be okay.”
For some reason, the sight of Joshua comforting that broken ghost made my eyes sting. So I rushed to the ghost that I’d felled and knelt beside her.
“Are you okay?” I whispered, tentatively brushing my fingers on the back of her hand. She startled at the touch, staring down at our hands with wide eyes.
“W-what . . . ?” she stuttered.
“I’m a ghost too,” I explained gently. “And I’m here to help you. All of you.”
“Don’t let them go,” she replied, jerking her head toward the other wraiths that had started to scatter across the bridge. “Don’t let them . . . go back there.”
I nodded, fighting another swell of tears, and shoved myself to my feet. I was ready to set another wraith free, when I caught a glimpse of something I didn’t like—something that made my stomach flip violently.
One person wasn’t fighting the wraiths, or even hiding from them. This person moved through the battle like a glassy-eyed zombie, taking methodic, inescapable steps toward the railing of the bridge. I’d seen a walk like that before; I’d made that walk.
“O’Reilly!” I screamed, racing toward him before the possessed boy could plunge himself over the edge. “O’Reilly, stop!”
Unsurprisingly, his relentless march didn’t even falter. So I did the only thing I could think of: I dove at him instead of the wraiths. As I struck his midsection and knocked him to the ground, I couldn’t help but think, So that’s why I never played contact sports.
Pain vibrated through my body, from both my blow to O’Reilly and our blow to the ground. I groaned as a wave of nausea crashed over me, but O’Reilly pushed himself up, stepping on my wounded shoulder in the process. Like some clockwork automaton, he started to use me as a ladder to climb the guardrail.
“Help,” I moaned, but my pain was so strong that my voice barely rose above a whisper. “Someone help us.”
My head lolled to one side and, although I could see a number of newly freed ghosts mingling among the Seers, I could also see that we were outnumbered. The wraiths had regrouped and were now diving at the Seers like birds of prey. Worse, Kaylen and Hayley now appeared to be possessed too, since they moved with inexorable slowness toward the guardrail.
“Stop,” I whispered, but not to my friends. “Make this stop.”
You can stop it anytime, Amelia, the demonic voice whispered back sweetly. Just make the choice.
“Okay,” I panted. “Okay, I will. I’ll join you. Just let them go—all of them.”
Swear it, the voice hissed, suddenly vicious. Swear it, or they’ll possess him next.
Joshua—the demons would take Joshua. So it really was time for me to do what I’d feared I would have to, the night I watched Ruth Mayhew die.
“I swear,” I whispered, feeling weak as a single tear rolled down my cheek. “I swear I’ll turn myself over to you, right now, if you’ll let everyone on this bridge go. Including the wraiths we freed.”
For a long, brutal minute, the demon didn’t respond. Then, in that booming volume that the darkness used for its most serious pronouncements, the voice replied, It is agreed.
Suddenly, O’Reilly’s foot slipped from my shoulder. He crumpled beside me, as Kaylen and Hayley slumped unconscious to the ground. Although the newly freed ghosts remained, cowering uselessly on the bridge, the surviving wraiths vanished like the puffs of smoke they resembled. All the living people who hadn’t been possessed whirled around frantically, clearly unsure of what had just happened.
“Did we . . . win?” Joshua asked hesitantly. But when his gaze fell on me, a look of sheer panic crossed his face. He bolted toward me, practically sliding across the road like the star baseball player he was. I was so weak, both physically and spiritually, that I let him pull me gently to my feet. Just before he folded me into his arms, I caught Jillian’s eye and gave her the slowest, most unwilling nod of my existence. The nod signaled that she should now enact her part in my plan.
Joshua didn’t see her move furtively toward us; all he could see was me. Whispering my name feverishly, he sought my lips and then gave me a desperate, frightened kiss. I stiffened, not wanting this to be the last time our lips touched.
But knowing that it was, I relented, kissing him with more passion, more love, than I ever had. I wanted to do this forever: to hold him close, to breath him in as if he were mine for all eternity.
The kiss was too short. Too painful. Too perfect, as always.
With a violent sob, I broke away from him and darted for Jillian, ducking behind her as she threw herself between me and Joshua.
“Grab him!” she shrieked at Scott. “Do it!”
Scott blinked in confusion, but did as he was told. He dove for Joshua, pinning his arms behind him and signaling to Drew and Felix for help. Within seconds, they had Joshua immobilized.
“Amelia?” he cried, struggling in their grip. “What . . . what the hell?”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m so, so sorry. And I love you. Always.”
Then I pulled the gun out from beneath the back of my shirt. Everyone must have seen it at the same time, because they froze all at once.
“No,” someone whispered, although I couldn’t be sure who.
“I have to,” I said quietly. “I can’t let them have me as a Risen ghost. Whatever they do to me—it will be too painful.”
And I need the demons to think I’m desperate, I added in my head.
Annabel and Felix understood what I was saying first; they both nodded their grim assent. My mother and Jillian already knew, as did Scott, judging by the way he held more tightly to Joshua.
Joshua, however, began to scream. Deep, guttural sounds that wrenched through me.
The darkness must have enjoyed those screams—relished them, in fact. Almost as if it wanted to set the scene, the netherworld began to appear around us, plunging the bridge into abject darkness. Everything frosted over, and the temperature dropped so dramatically that Joshua’s screams started to puff visible in the air.
Still standing behind Jillian, I took a few steps closer to the edge of the bridge. Peering over the railing, I could just see it below: the horrible, swirling maelstrom of the hellpit.
It waited for me.
“Help me up,” I croaked at Jillian, jerking my head toward the guardrail. She simply winced and then shook her head vehemently. Instead of arguing with her, I gripped the gun by its barrel and held it out to her.
After a long pause, she took the gun and tucked it into her belt, her hands trembling badly as she did so.
Trying not to tremble as well, I turned around so that my back pressed against the guardrail. Then I placed my hand on Jillian’s shoulder and began to climb, backward, up the railing. However unwillingly, Jillian boosted me and steadied me whenever I needed help. My movements tore through my shoulder like a gunshot, but I kept going until I could grab a girder and balance upright on the edge of the rail.
From that vantage point, I had a clear view of my companions. Kaylen, Hayley, and O’Reilly still lay motionless on the bridge; Annabel held tightly to my mother, who’d already started to sag under the weight of the chemicals in her system; and the boys . . . the second my eyes flitted toward the boys, I started tearing up so badly that all four figures seemed to blur together.
I squeezed my eyes shut, whispered, “I love you,” and prayed that Joshua heard my last words to him.
When I opened my eyes, I was startled to find that Jillian had already pointed the gun at me. But her hands shook so badly that I couldn’t tell exactly where she intended to shoot.
“You okay?” I asked her.
At first, she blanched. Then Jillian released a short, incredulous laugh.
“Are you
kidding me, Amelia?”
Through all that horrific pain, I felt my lips lift into a faint smile. But it faded so quickly, I doubt Jillian even saw it.
“Do it,” I urged. “Please.”
Hearing me, Jillian took one shuddering breath. In the split second before the gun went off, I thought I heard her sob. But then the bullet pierced my chest, and I didn’t hear anything anymore.
The pain was so vivid, so hot and cold, that I stopped breathing altogether. I reeled backward, letting go of the girder. As I fell through the air, a single memory flitted through my mind: Gaby, clutching the gunshot wound in her abdomen and telling me that it didn’t hurt.
She lied, I had time to think. Then utter darkness enveloped me.
Chapter
THIRTY-THREE
By the time I woke up somewhere cool and dark, all my pain had vanished. No throbbing, no burning, no searing. No physical sensations at all, actually.
I rolled over and pressed myself into a seated position, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. While they did, I patted my jeans pocket, relieved to find that the Transfer Powder had stayed with me. Then I performed a quick self-assessment. I was surprised to find that my glow had returned. Not the protective fire glow, but the one I’d had as a ghost—the one that Joshua used to tease me about, when I shined faintly in the dark.
It was done, then. I was truly, fully dead again, like Gaby had been after Kade shot her. And this place was hell.
I was surprised by how . . . ordinary it looked. No fiery cavern full of torture devices and gleeful devils. Just a tall, seemingly endless corridor, painted dark gray and lit overhead by a similarly endless line of metal light fixtures.
The only things that disturbed the monotony were the long rows of black metal doors that lined each wall, extending on into the distant horizon as though a million different rooms led off the same hallway.