The twisted dead, p.12
The Twisted Dead, page 12
“No. There were thousands of students at the uni and no restrictions on visitors. Some people thought it was a jealous classmate, but that was hard to imagine; he was so likeable. Others thought maybe an ex-partner had hired a hit, or he’d gotten tied up in the drug scene or maybe interrupted something he shouldn’t have. For all we know, it could have been random—someone wandered onto campus and attacked the first vulnerable student they found. Tragedies don’t always have a poetic twist to them.” He grimaced, looking uncomfortable. “I stayed long enough to be at the memorial service, then I quit school and came back home.”
“And never told anyone why,” Zoe murmured. “Everyone thought you were just burnt out, you know.”
“Yeah. My neighbours keep asking me when I’m going to go back. And I keep telling them, maybe someday.” His mouth twisted, like he’d tasted something unpleasant. “Better than telling them what I did, anyway.”
Keira leaned forward. “But…you didn’t do anything wrong.”
His glance was sharp. “I went into medical school to save lives. And then I kept walking while one was being taken less than twenty meters from me.”
“You didn’t know, though.” Keira felt a hard note enter her voice. “If you’d realised someone was being attacked, would you have stopped?”
“Of course I would have—”
“Then you need to stop being so hard on yourself. You didn’t know. It was a mistake, but not one you can be blamed for.”
He sounded indescribably tired. “That’s what the counsellor said too. But the ultimate truth is that I wanted to get to my exam on time, and if I’d cared about that even slightly less, Evan would probably still be alive today.”
Keira closed her eyes. She thought she understood how Mason felt. It had been such a tiny decision in the moment but one that was impossible to take back. And for someone like Mason, who based his identity on doing everything right, that was a hard thing to reconcile.
“You needed my help,” she said, looking up. “Did you want to see if his ghost is still there?”
“Yes.” Mason’s voice had dropped to a hoarse whisper. “Since I found out that ghosts can remain trapped, I can’t stop thinking about it. I…I want to know if he’s moved on. If he has…maybe I can…”
“Of course.” Keira filled her lungs, then let it out in a sigh. “Let’s look for him. And if he hasn’t moved on yet, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure he does.”
Mason sagged over his mug until Keira couldn’t see his expression properly. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
She wanted to hug him. Instead, she said, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner.”
“Ha.” He shook his head. “I know you’ve been nervous about people finding out about your gift. And I understand that. You don’t want to be exploited. And I…I didn’t ever want you to feel that way around me.”
“Hang all of that! Who’s exploiting who? You’ve given me free medical care. We’ve gone trespassing together. You gave me an entire mattress! And even if you hadn’t done any of that, you’re still my best friend. And I want to be allowed to look after my friends.”
“He’s your best friend?” Zoe asked, one hand to her heart, looking mortally wounded.
“Dual best friend status,” Keira conceded. “Seriously, though. I haven’t been able to do much for either of you yet. I’m actually happy I get a chance to help. Let’s go to the uni tomorrow. Zoe, do you have work?”
“I’ll call in sick.” Her grin was wolfish. “We can take a look at that rune at the same time. It’ll be the most productive of days.”
“The uni is about an hour from Tarrow,” Mason said. “With an additional eight-hour drive each way, it might be hard to fit everything in. We can get the trip done in two days. I’ll book some hotel rooms. Are you and Zo okay with sharing?”
“A hotel sounds good to me,” Keira said. “But there’s no point booking two. We can fit in one just fine.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind getting a second room. You might appreciate the privacy.”
Keira chuckled. “It won’t be any different from that time you and Zo had a sleepover here. No, don’t worry. I don’t think any of us are going to be prudes about it.”
“Neither of you has seen my fan fiction yet,” Zoe said. “I think a prude would self-combust if they got within ten paces of me.”
“I’ll take your word on it.” Mason nodded, rising. “Thank you. I’ll pick Zoe up and then bring the car down to the base of the driveway tomorrow. Around nine?”
“That suits me just fine.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Keira picked up her backpack from beside the stone fence outside her cottage. She travelled light: a change of clothes and her toothbrush were all she needed.
She’d asked Adage to watch Daisy, which he’d gladly agreed to. She’d also spoken to Solomon, asking he if would be patient enough to wait another few days for her return. Then she’d packed the backpack, locked up her cottage, and found she still had another few hours to burn before Mason was expected to arrive.
Keira spent that time in the cemetery. Starting with the tombstones that had spirits, she’d begun weeding around them, clearing away dead flowers and wiping moss off the stones. It was a relatively insignificant job in the larger scheme of things, but it still seemed important to Keira. A neglected grave struck her as an achingly sad sight; it was like saying the person inside the grave had been forgotten too. Many of the markers were so old that any close relatives were long gone. But as long as Keira was there, they didn’t have to remain forgotten.
She finished gingerly pulling thistles out from around the elegant Victorian lady’s monument just in time to meet Mason. She gathered her weeds, threw them into a pile past the forest’s boundary, then picked up her backpack and began following the driveway to the main road.
Mason’s car pulled into view as she reached the driveway’s end. Keira checked the time on her phone. They were both a few minutes early. She found herself grinning at how predictable they were.
Mason reached across the passenger seat to open the door for her. Keira threw a glance into the back seat and found Zoe already lounging there, a gummy snake hanging from her teeth as she sent a message on her phone.
“You get to sit up front,” Zoe said without preamble. “I get to pick the music and dole out the snacks. Deal?”
“Hello to you too,” Keira said, tossing her backpack into the rear seats with Zoe before pulling her seat belt on. “Did you get the note to Dane okay?”
“Yeah. The gates were locked, but I reached through and jammed it onto a branch where he’d see. I wrote my number on it too, so he can call us if he needs to.”
Keira nodded. She hadn’t wanted to leave Blighty without telling Dane why she was leaving and when she’d be back, but he was almost uncomfortably hard to contact. He hadn’t given her any phone number and she doubted he’d have an email address, so without many other options, she’d asked Zoe to leave him a note promising that she wasn’t giving up on him.
Mason waited until she was settled, then turned back onto the road. He looked more like himself than he had the previous day. His smile was back in place, his hair tidy, his clothes comfortable but still professional. Keira had the distinct sense that this casual air came at a great effort.
“Are you doing okay?” she asked.
“Yes.” He caught her watching him and cleared his throat. “No. I’m nervous. And desperately uncomfortable. But that’s probably the best I could expect to be.”
She reached across the space between them and lightly pressed his arm. He smiled at her, and this time it was with real warmth.
“’Scuse me,” Zoe said, leaning through the gap in the seats to shove between them. “It’s my job to put the music on. Can’t leave us wallowing in our own thoughts for too long, can I?”
She plugged a USB into the dash before slinking back into her seat. There was silence for a second, then a deafening blend of untimed drums, screeching violins, and miserable wailing filled the car.
“What the—” Mason flinched but managed to avoid driving the car off the road.
“It’s Harry’s new album,” Zoe called, nonchalantly fishing a pack of cotton balls out of the bags around her. “He’s in that band, remember? Transcontinental death metal or whatever genre he claims it is.”
“Post-transient death grunge,” Keira called back. “This is what it sounds like, huh?”
“We’re lucky. This album is super exclusive. Only two copies sold, and one of those was to his mum.”
The furious drums abruptly faded out, leaving them in a brief reprieve of just the off-tune violin. Then a voice joined in, starting low but slowly building into the most awful scream Keira had ever heard. It sounded like a mountain lion being murdered. It stretched out longer and longer until Keira began to wonder just how much air Harry was capable of holding in his lungs.
“It’s, uh, intense.” Mason had to yell to be heard. “Did you want to try something else? I have a track of top one hundred hits—”
“True artists are never appreciated in their time,” Zoe said, somehow remaining serene even as she stuffed cotton balls into her ears. “But by gosh we’re going to appreciate this one.”
“Fantastic,” Mason managed, just as Harry’s mangled voice broke into a chorus of “Death death death death death death death death!”
They passed out of Blighty’s bounds and into the countryside surrounding it. Mason was a steady driver as he navigated the narrow mountain roads. Eventually they passed through Cheltenham, stopping briefly to pick up drinks before returning to the drive.
Zoe continued to play Harry’s album, which seemed to never end and experimented with styles Keira hadn’t even known existed. With no warning, a banjo was introduced around track eight. Another track was just sixteen minutes of Harry quietly sobbing into the microphone and those were sixteen of the most uncomfortable minutes of Keira’s life. Despite repeated requests, Zoe refused to switch it off. “The man wants to express himself,” she said. “Who are we to say he’s not allowed?”
As the clock ticked past noon, they began to look for a place to get lunch. Zoe spotted it first. “Rest stop to the right. Lots of trucks are parked outside that diner. That means it’s good. Truck drivers know the best places.”
“Yeah?” Mason said, switching on the indicator as he took the exit. “I like the sound of that.”
The diner was old but painted in bright, barely matching colours. It was also bustling. As they pushed through two ancient, creaking glass doors, Keira tried to pull some money out of her backpack.
Mason waved her away. “You’re doing me a favour,” he insisted. “That means I get to pay for food.”
Zoe, next to Keira, nudged her. “Meanwhile, I’m just a freeloader.”
“You can be the emotional support,” Mason said. “For both of us.”
Keira couldn’t stop herself from glancing around the diner as they entered. It was old, its furniture faded and its floorboards well-worn, but it had a comfortable feel, like a place that had more happy memories than sad ones.
They managed to get a seat near the window. The food arrived quickly and smelled amazing. “Told you,” Zoe said as she picked up half of a toasted sandwich that was oozing with cheese. “Truck drivers know the best places.”
“We’re making good time,” Mason said, picking at the plate of chips they were sharing while checking the map on his phone. “Tarrow is the closest destination. That’s where Zoe’s friend found the rune. We’ll stop there first to make sure you have as much time with it as you need, Keira. Then we’ll sleep at the hotel and continue on to the university tomorrow. Does that sound like a plan?”
“That works for me,” she said.
Their server moved past, her dark, curling hair tied high on her head. As she checked their drinks she said, “Sounds like you’re having a long trip. What brings you to this part of the country?”
Zoe grinned. “Ghosts.”
“Oh?” Her eyes lit up. She leaned close over the table. “You know, we have a ghost of our own here.”
“You do?” Zoe mirrored the motion by leaning towards her, toasted sandwich forgotten. “Tell me!”
“Don’t worry, he’s friendly.” The server winked. “He’s an old regular. Bob. Used to come in seven days a week. Always ordered the same thing—a salmon sandwich and a ginger beer. He was so reliable that we’d have his order ready before he even stepped through the door. Well, one evening when my coworker was leaving, she noticed Bob’s car was still in the parking lot. He’d eaten his lunch, gone to drive home, and had a heart attack while still in park. It would have been over with quickly, the coroner said. But since then, we sometimes see Bob still here.”
“Yeah?” Zoe whispered, enraptured.
“Never clearly.” The server matched Zoe’s conspiratorial whisper. “Sometimes you get a glimpse of him in a mirror. Sometimes you hear the sound of him clearing his throat. Or you swear you see him sitting at his old seat out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn, he’s gone. It’s lucky he was such a friendly person, because half the staff swear they would have left otherwise.”
Keira couldn’t help herself. She nodded to a stool at the bar. “He used to sit there, didn’t he?”
The server inhaled sharply, her eyebrows rising. “You knew.”
“Just a guess,” Keira said, picking up her own sandwich. “That seat’s the most worn.”
“Hmm.” The server glanced from Keira to the empty barstool and back, intrigue dancing behind her eyes. “What an odd thing to notice. Maybe you have a bit of a gift. That might be worth exploring, you know.”
As the server left, Keira looked up again, her second sight held open. The man on the barstool, hazy and as pale as mist, raised a glass of ginger beer in Keira’s direction, smiling.
She’d only seen one ghost interact with a spectral object before: the elderly Victorian woman and her elaborate walking cane. Otherwise, they seemed to have a small amount of control over the clothes they wore but very little else.
She guessed they might sometimes be able to manifest objects as well…but only objects so familiar that they existed almost as an extension of the person. For Bob, who had eaten every lunch there for years, the glass of ginger beer and the plate of salmon sandwich were likely always waiting for him.
Bob didn’t appear to be waiting for help. He’d move on in his own time, Keira suspected. He just didn’t want to say goodbye to such a familiar home. Not just yet.
They returned to the car and to the deafening notes of Harry screaming about how he wanted to crawl into a coffin and never come out again. They weren’t on the road for long, though. That stretch of the highway must have been something of a local attraction because they passed multiple tourist traps, all in the form of large novelty sculptures off the side of the road, and Zoe begged them to stop at each one: World’s Largest Prawn. World’s Largest Banana. World’s Second Largest Owl.
“I appreciate their honesty,” Zoe said, stopped outside the owl. “I’m pretty sure the others were pure hyperbole. World’s largest prawn? That thing was barely the size of a bus. I’m sure I could find a bigger one. This owl, though? It acknowledges that it’s only number two. I trust it.”
“Uh-huh.” Mason took the requisite photo of them in front of the owl, then tucked his phone back into his pocket. “If you’re done, we’re still a couple of hours from Tarrow—”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. They have the World’s Largest Grapes just up ahead, and I want to judge it for its unchecked hubris.”
Their voices faded into the background as Keira froze. They’d pulled off the side of the road to pose with the owl, and traffic continued to move past at a steady pace. A white van whistled along the asphalt before fading into the distance. Its emblem had only been visible for a second, but it had sent shards of ice through Keira’s limbs.
It was the emblem belonging to Artec, the organisation that was hunting her.
Stay calm. They didn’t see you.
At least, she didn’t think they had. She’d been half shielded by Mason’s car and the van had made no attempt to stop. She watched it until it disappeared over the crest of a hill in the distance.
She’d last seen a vehicle like that at Cheltenham’s hospital, when she’d visited with Adage. If they were at Cheltenham, it made sense that they would be spread across the surrounding area as well. She would need to be careful.
“Keira?” Mason had noticed her distraction. He came up beside her, examining her face and then following her gaze towards the road. “Is something wrong?”
“I’m fine,” she managed. “Just…nervous. What if the bunch of grapes is too large?”
“You’re asking the right questions.” Zoe threaded her arm through Keira’s and gave her a squeeze. “Truly, how big can mankind make a bunch of grapes before the universe checks our unbridled ambition? We need to be reasonable or it’ll be the Tower of Babel all over again.”
Keira let Zoe escort her back into the car and ate the gummy snake that was pressed into her hand. Even Harry’s distraught screams faded into the background, though, as she scanned the road ahead and behind them, looking for any more white vans, or any sign of the unpleasantly familiar logo. Even though they stopped at the grapes—which were insultingly underwhelming, according to Zoe—no vans came for her.
Still, Keira found herself breathing a little more easily once they turned off the freeway and into the narrower, calmer roads of Tarrow. Mason finally turned down the music as he followed his phone’s instructions to reach the location Zoe had given them. Zoe’s friend hadn’t provided a street address but a set of coordinates. There was a reason for that, it turned out. The coordinates led to a sparse forest just outside of town.
“Are you sure we can trust your friend?” Mason asked, pulling his jacket on. They stood outside the car, parked off the edge of a road that ran alongside the forest. There were a few houses in the distance, but no other cars on the street. “In your expert opinion, what are the chances they’re trying to lure people here to steal their organs?”
