Midnight Ruling (16 page)

I could hear Cooper’s footsteps above my head. He’d be in Mona’s room right now.

My eyes shifted toward the shadows near the window as they lengthened—stretching toward me in slow certainty.

I blinked, and they appeared normal again, undisturbed and stationary.

I tried to control the rising fear that tickled my muscles. I wanted to run, every instinct screamed for it, but I couldn’t.

Closing my eyes, I tilted my head back, feeling my tangled hair falling down my spine. I would have preferred to be wearing something a little more protective than pajamas, but it was too late now. “Come and get me, Damien,” I said out loud, my eyes remaining closed.

I heard Cooper’s frantic race around the upper level of the house. It distracted me enough so that I didn’t focus on every tiny creak and shuffle that would make me flinch.

“Nora!” I heard Cooper shout, his voice strained and frightened.

I couldn’t answer him. He’d be taken soon, just like me. I tried to separate myself from the situation, to not get caught up in the panic, but it was hard.

“Nora!” he screamed, louder.

Wincing, I held back a reply. A tang of guilt and relief mixed in some crude concoction when I didn’t hear his voice again.

The crash forced me to open my eyes. Joel tumbled down the stairs, hitting the landing with a thud, and I heard a wheeze as the air rushed out of his lungs. Startled, I realized I thought he’d be gone by now. What if I was wrong? What if they could still get out and Claire was outside right now?

“Where’s Cooper?” I asked.

Joel was lying on his back, his arms up as he focused on the ceiling. “The closet…” He struggled sluggishly to his feet and peered up the stairs, holding his spine. “The closet door in your room shut.”

“And where were you?” I snapped, shoving him in the shoulder. I wasn’t sure what made me think shoving a guy three times my size was a good idea.

Joel spun to face me. “Something up there tried to grab me! No thanks to the two of you, I was trying to get away. And I found this.” He held up the golden ankh. It was glowing, illuminating his hand in pale light.

“Life,” I said before I could stop myself.

Joel glowered at me and started for the stairs again.

I grabbed for his arm. “They’re gone. Don’t you see? It wants life. You…”

Before I could finish my sentence, Joel whipped around. His elbow lifted and went wild. I don’t think he was aiming, but it hit me in the side of the head. A jarring dizziness wrapped around my head, throwing me off balance. Staggering away from him, I fell against the wall, grateful for the minor steadiness. But it was short lived.

The room began to spin. Faster and faster it went, throwing my world out of control until not even the wall could steady me.

Black dots danced, growing bigger, and the edges of my vision were closing in on me. The world collapsed in on me until there was only darkness.

My eyes flew open to see the
shabtis
swarming me.

Their painted, familiar faces peered down, expressionless and cold despite some of the smiles.

For some reason, I was lying on my side, arms behind my back and shoulders aching.

The dolls were in front of me, moving around my body—no, floating. They hovered a few millimetres from the carpet, seemingly with some purpose in mind.

This wasn’t a dream. The pain in my shoulders was a sharp reminder. I was still in the entryway of my house, the stairs just a few feet away.

I wish I hadn’t woken up to this, to see each doll hard at work with ropes to bind me.

They didn’t even have arms, but somehow they commanded the ropes to snake around my ankles when they drew closer.

I could feel the uncomfortable tugging and grating against my skin as they worked feverishly, smiling and wooden. My wrists were still being tied together behind me, my ankles barely had rope on them, and my mouth hadn’t been covered.

I was intuitive enough to know that screaming would do me no good, but…

I jerked my arms with a start, writhing as the fear sparked to life. My forearm hit one of the dolls hard, and I heard a
thud
against the wall.

The ropes loosened around my wrists.

I shouldn’t have to go like this. I’m willing! Why torment me with ropes and the faces of my friends?

I worked my hands and rotated my shoulders until I swung one free arm in front of me. Lifting myself up, I pulled my other arm from behind my back.

Peering over my shoulder, I saw the Phoebe-Doll nearing the loose rope behind me. Her determined, narrow gaze—which was a common expression of hers—only enhanced the
shabtis
‘s intentions.

I swatted at the wooden representation of my friend. My swing just missed her, and she floated back.

My friends definitely weren’t in these dolls. They wouldn’t do this to me. Would they? I thought of their expressions when they saw me in the last dream.

Using the wall, I managed to get to my feet, ankles still bound. The dolls, though effective to a point, were slow moving. I couldn’t see Joel or Cooper anywhere as I bunny-hopped out of their range.

The soft glowing ankh stopped me in mid-spring near the banister. It floated in the middle of the stairs, several feet off the ground, glowing brighter than it had before. The ankh brought the dolls to life, I realized.

Reaching down, I fumbled for the ropes still tangled around my ankles.

Behind me, I heard a series of thumps. Glancing between my knees, I saw the wooden pursuers flop over, lifeless. Their eerily lifelike depictions, all stared at me. Their stillness sent chills up my spine.

Standing to my full height, I heard the rustling behind me.

Turning too fast to intercept it, I lost my balance and fell onto my butt. The pain stabbed up my tailbone, but I held back the cry as I searched for the noise that could be life or death.

Before I could twist to see who was on the stairs, a hand collided between my shoulder blades, shoving me face down onto the floor.

Another hand latched itself over my mouth before I could scream.

It wasn’t a doll this time.

I shoved the heels of my palms into the carpet to get up, and every muscle seemed to give out at once. It was so sudden I decided to try to push up again when I realized I couldn’t feel the muscles in my arms.

I felt remarkably weak, like my entire body was constructed of Jell-O.

I had no control. My skin tingled just before numbing. The sensation was so quick my mind was reeling to keep up, to find a loophole to gain the upper hand again.

It was hard to feel the hand on my back or the one over my mouth. After several foreboding seconds, my fingertips began to tingle, but I couldn’t move them yet. I wanted to try and scream again, but my voice was lost with my muscles.

The hand removed itself from my mouth. I could feel the skin slip away from my face, leaving a trail of pins and needles. It felt like my entire body had lost circulation and was gradually gaining it back.

The sensation was becoming stronger to the point of painful when the intruder grabbed my shoulder. If I could wince, I would have.

I flopped onto my back, helpless and open for attack.

I found myself staring up into bottomless black eyes.

Damien wore a black t-shirt and black cargo pants this time. His hair blended in with the shadows on the ceiling.

His smile was dangerous, making me think of a dog—no maybe a wolf—before it lunged. “Stop trying to get away. You called
me
, remember?”

There was movement out of my peripheral vision, but I couldn’t turn my head. Feeling the hot tears blur the edges, I realized I was completely at his mercy. If he wanted to stab a knife into my belly and be over with it, he could. How stupid could I be to want to go back?

Blinking until a tear slid past my temple, pricking sensitive skin, I could see the cheerful smile on the Robin-doll as she came near.

The miniature harbinger had the rope in front of her, floating and ready to wind itself around my wrists. The flare of pain from its touch shrieked in my brain. I couldn’t jerk away or flinch. I had to feel every shredded fray as the rope ground and pulled against raw skin.

They were tying my arms in front instead of behind my back this time. I knew what it meant. I’d lost. I wasn’t a threat anymore.

Even as they moved my arms together, I felt the stabbing pain of a thousand pin-pricks in my pores. It reminded me of being sick with the flu, when even clothes made you ache when you moved.

“Life and death can sometimes be so closely linked. Most of your world is oblivious,” Damien mused, watching the little workers move about. “They’re not your friends,” he said, answering my unspoken question. “But they could be, if you’d like. A life beyond death. This one would be pleasant for them, I’d think.”

My eyes narrowed at him.

“Harder to wield it here, isn’t it?” he said, canting his head to inspect me. “You’ll find it harder still in my world for a while. Now that I know what you are.”

I blinked, though it was lethargic and slow. What was he talking about?

Damien pushed one finger into my stomach. It was gentle, but the sensation reminded me of poking a finger too deep into my belly button as a kid. “When you finally feel it,” his eyes flickered to my face, “don’t let it go.”

I wanted to flinch away but couldn’t.

Damien raised his eyebrows at me as if he expected me to answer. When I didn’t, he seemed satisfied and stood up. Watching the ropes give one last tug of the knot, he winked and walked out of my range of vision. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t move my eyes to follow him. I couldn’t blink anymore either.

A soft wind touched my face, though this didn’t spring needle-like pain. Instead, everything went dark again, except I was awake.

I’d officially entered the Demon’s Grave.

As the soft breeze died and light filtered through my closed eyelids, I dared to open them.

I wasn’t certain how much time had passed between my house and Damien’s world. It had all been disorientating. Up, down, north, east, left, or right could all be the same direction.

I found myself staring at an overhead torch secured to a cage. I wiggled my fingers; the painful tingling had vanished, and every limb felt as if it were my own again.

I looked around to see the little
shabtis
dolls had disappeared, but my wrists and ankles were still tied together.

At my back, a powdery yellow dirt that was finer than sand swirled as I moved my head. I breathed in enough to cough. The sound echoed, and I clamped a hand over my mouth. The quick movement flung more dust in the air, and I had to hold my breath until it quieted back down. Easing into a sitting position, I finished coughing behind closed lips and rubbed my nose to prevent a sneeze. My muscles felt stiff from clenching them for so long, and I concentrated on relaxing.

Moving slowly, I took in my surroundings.

On either side of me were tall metal cages rank with foreign vines and oversized leaves. They must have towered twelve feet above me. I could make out Egyptian-like hieroglyphics carved into the metal.

I tried to peer into the cages on either side of me, but the thick vegetation made it impossible.

Rolling onto my knees, I wriggled and shuffled to my feet. The ropes burned at every twitch. Before I could go exploring, I would have to cut these ropes. I glanced behind me and saw that the pathway seemed to travel on forever, fading into an ominous mist.

In front of me, I saw something glitter in a dim light, but it was something. Hobbling, I concluded that there’d be no way to shuffle without pitching forward for a mouthful of dust.

Frowning, I tried to ignore the ridiculousness of my situation and took my first experimental jump.

With a precarious balance, I hopped along the dirt path, the fine dust coating my socked feet as I drew closer to an opening. I could make out a dusty red hotdog stand and a bench in a circle surrounded by cages. The dust had different-sized footprints in it. People had been here before me.

Glancing up, I could see it wasn’t sunny and cheerful like it should have been when visiting a zoo. It was heavily clouded, almost black. Torches blazed against the cages, casting wriggling shadows everywhere. They were hung too high for me to reach.

I inspected the rope around my ankles and wrists before studying the hotdog stand ahead. Maybe there were knives in there.

I began to wish for not only more clothes but shoes as I hopped bit by bit toward the red mobile cart. Thankfully, the dirt was soft and devoid of sharp objects.

Reaching the hotdog stand, I opened the first compartment. Without thinking, I looked inside and was struck by a rancid scent. The food in this one had long since turned to mush, secreting foul liquids that tempted my gag reflex.

When I shoved the lid back on, it clattered, and I paused, listening to the quiet. After several seconds, I tried another compartment. This time, I didn’t look inside right away. The last one must have burned nose hairs because I could still smell it. Easing forward, I saw napkins, paper plates, plastic utensils. I doubted the plastic knife would work as urgently as I needed it to.

I stopped myself from slamming the lid down this time. I needed a way out of these damn ropes!

Biting my lips together, I took a deep breath and knew that if I didn’t hold my temper, my common sense would suffocate.

The first sound to hint at life in the distance nearly had me toppling, but I grabbed the edge of the stand for balance.

A monkey, who I couldn’t see from my hiding place, chattered in the distance.

Freezing, I listened until the sound stopped. Silence warped the air, leaving a hum in its wake.

Rolling my eyes up, I noticed the four separate pathways leading away from the hotdog stand.

Each had a colorful Egyptian archway held up by Pharaohs on either side. Beneath the arch was a wooden sign. The one I hopped through said:
Snakes & Vines
. The others read:
Desert Dogs, Mangy Monkeys,
and
Raging Reptiles
.