Possessed By You (Overworld Underground Book 1) (43 page)

My head jerked back against the headrest as we raced back the way we'd come. The first SUV backed out of the driveway, blocking the road, but Tyler swerved through a yard on the left to miss it, and jerked the car back on the asphalt. The street curved sharply, bordered on the right by a steep wooded slope. Misty gloom hid the bottom of the hill.

Two more SUVs roared around the curve. Residents' cars parked along the road blocked Tyler from swerving around the blockade. He slammed on the brakes. Hit reverse. Another SUV closed in behind us.
Trapped!

Tyler slapped the steering wheel. His teeth clenched. Then his eyes narrowed. He looked at me and said, "Hold on."

"I'm already holding on already, thank you very much." My white-knuckled grip on the door handle grew sweatier by the second.

Tyler swerved right. The front end of the car dropped off the road and onto the slope. I screamed as my view tilted downward at an alarming angle just before we plunged downhill. He twisted the wheel, somehow gliding the car between the trees. At the last minute, I saw a log partially hidden by leaves. Tyler cursed, but it was too late to avoid the obstacle. The car screeched, and bounced hard. My body pressed tight against the seatbelt as it locked in place. The tires slammed to earth and the metal frame jolted with a horrid crunch of metal.

We slid sideways for a brief moment, and my door slammed hard against something, sending incredible pain lancing up my arm. The impact flung me away from the door, and only the seatbelt kept me in place, the latch digging deep into my hip.

"Emily!" Tyler managed to reorient the car so it faced down the slope.

We jounced over a mound of dirt. Skidded into a flat area and careened onto railroad tracks running through the floor of the small valley. With a resounding shriek of metal, the car came to a stop. The engine shuddered and died. Tyler twisted the key, but the car only answered with a line of steam from beneath the hood.

"I think the radiator cracked," he said. "Shit!"

I moaned. My right arm hurt so terribly, I feared it might be broken. I turned and looked up the hill to see a small army of figures in black descending the slope on foot. "Run, Tyler," I said. "You're faster without me. Get away somewhere safe, and I'll rejoin you when I can."

Tears gathered in his eyes. "But—"

"No buts, you bloody fool! Now run!"

He gave me a fierce kiss that numbed the pain if only for an instant. "I will find you again. I promise."

With that, he unbuckled his seatbelt, opened the door, and got out. In a burst of incredible speed, he vanished into the dim light of the new day.

I groaned, wanting nothing more than to pass out from the pain in my arm. Then I heard the faint sound of a horn. A train horn.
Good lord, can't the bloody world give me a moment of peace?
I fumbled with the seatbelt. The button wouldn't depress no matter how hard I tried. I examined it and saw the metal was bent where my hip had slammed against it. Fighting down panic, I slid off the shoulder strap, and squirmed against the belt strap. It was tight, locked in place by some inner mechanism.

Ignoring the terrible pain in my arm, I fought to slide under the belt, but it was too tight to slip beneath. Neither my breasts nor the frame of my bra would allow my chest to fit in any case. Instead, I tried to pull up my legs. Slowly, I managed to slide out. Then I felt the car shake. I heard a rumble. I looked to my right and saw the headlight of a train paint the trees as the lumbering locomotive bore around the curve.

I panicked, twisting and screaming, trying to get my legs out of the damned seatbelt, but it was so tight I could hardly move. I glanced back toward possible rescue, and saw one of the Exorcists running pell-mell down the hill, arms flailing. The figure stumbled, and went rolling down the slope. I didn't know if he was trying to rescue me or not, but he had no chance of reaching me in time.

I turned my face toward the train at certain death. I felt an odd sense of calm detachment. "Goodbye, Tyler." Hot tears burned my eyes. "I hope you find peace."

"No!" shouted a tortured voice from outside. Tyler streaked around the car to my door. He yanked on the handle, but the door wouldn't budge. "Try the inside handle!" he shouted.

I pulled on it, but the mechanism seemed broken. "Leave me!" I screamed as the train blew its horn and the sound of metal wheels screeching on the tracks reached my ears.

Tyler's eyes glowed with an inner fire. A deep growl sounded in his chest. "
No!
" He reared back his fist. "Look away from the glass."

I turned my face and heard glass crunch. When I looked back, Tyler was swiping away the crumbling safety glass with bloodied hands. He gripped the door. With a roar, he yanked hard, the muscles in his arms bulging. The door groaned in protest. He bared his teeth and screamed, his face turning dark red. Something metallic snapped, and the door swung open. Tyler leaned across me, tried the seatbelt button, but it didn't work. He tugged hard on the seatbelt fabric. His face went even redder than before, veins standing out in his neck. The latch popped open. I was free! He grabbed me, turned, and dove away from the car in one dizzying motion. A terrible crunch boomed through the valley, followed by tons of steel screaming against steel. A hot wind hit my face.

Tyler somehow got to his feet with me still cradled in his arms and ran a few more feet. He stumbled, tripped, and we went down in a pile of leaves. His eyelids fluttered half-open. "You're safe." With that, he slumped against me with a groan, eyes closed.

I looked back toward the tracks and saw nothing of the car except a tire lying to the side of the tracks as the train, sparks flying from beneath its wheels, screamed past, unable to stop.

"Tyler?" I shook him, but he'd apparently passed out. I struggled to gain my feet, but his weight pinned me firmly to the ground.

The first Exorcist, possibly the one I'd seen fall, reached me first. I gasped at the pale emotionless masquerade mask staring at me from beneath the cover of a black hoodie. It covered the wearer's entire face. Cracks in the thick lacquer paint gave it the appearance of a porcelain face suffering from age and neglect. Dread blossomed in my throat, and only the weight of Tyler's body prevented me from squirming away from the sight. Judging from the broad shoulders stretching the black hoodie, I felt certain this Exorcist was a man. He rolled Tyler off me with gloved hands, and examined me, perhaps searching for wounds from the wreck.

"Leave us alone!" I shouted, rolling atop Tyler and hugging him as tears poured from my eyes. "Just leave us the hell alone you bloody assholes!"

More Exorcists appeared from the trees, all dressed in similar clothing—black hoodies, dark slacks, and the odd porcelain masks. I noticed they also bore white clerical collars around their necks though without the usual black-collared shirts normal priests wore. It made the white bands look like shackles around their necks rather than clothing.

I tightened my hold on Tyler, trying desperately to shake him awake, but the sheer effort required to save me must have drained him. Only his steady breathing gave me hope he was okay, and not dying.

"You will come with me," said a female voice with a neutral accent. "This man is not what he seems. We will help you."

"She is not taken," said a man to her side, holding a smartphone with what looked like the same emblem of a partially peeled orange on the back I'd seen on George's phone. "It's just the male."

"I know exactly what he is." I hugged Tyler tight. "He's not evil. He's good. And he didn't steal this body. The previous owner killed himself."

"It makes no difference," the woman said. "Some are evil, some are simply curious observers. But none of them have the right to be here."

"Says who?" I shouted back. "A bunch of crazies in freaky masks?"

"We protect the people." Her voice remained calm, unwavering. "We are the thin, holy line protecting this mortal plane."

"But he isn't possessing the body. Can't you see that? The original owner killed himself. He only filled the void." My vision blurred with tears. "Please don't take him from me.
Please!
"

The woman knelt next to me, held out a gloved hand. "It will be okay, dear. It's easy to become emotionally involved with demons. That's how they operate. You may feel strongly now, but I promise you once he's gone, you'll realize the mistake. You'll feel whole again."

I ignored her hand. "No. You're the ones who don't understand. I've been without him, and it tore me apart. He's different from the others. Without him I won't be whole." I sobbed, unable to bear the thought of losing him. "If you send him back, the others will torture him because he wants to be human."

The woman looked up at the man who'd scanned me with his phone. He nodded. She turned back to me, lowering her hood to reveal silky blonde hair cascading to her shoulders. Then she removed the porcelain mask. I gasped at the sight of her face. One side was unmarred, the skin smooth, the angle of her jaw and line of her nose delicate, beautiful even. The other side of her face bore a long scar, traveling from her forehead, across the eye, and curving down across her cheek almost in the shape of a scythe, marring that half of her face.

I stared at the blighted eye, white with blindness from whatever cruel weapon had deformed her fair face.

"I thought they were different once, too," she said. "But they can't be human. They're incapable of it. To them, our lives are just a game, and we are toys."

"It's not the same," I said in a blubbering voice. "You don't understand." My heart swelled with agony, telling me what I already knew, but couldn't make myself say. "I love him."

The woman drew back, the eyebrow on the unmarred side of her face rising above a wide eye while the scarred side of her face struggled to mirror her shock. Murmurs went up from the others. The man who'd reached us first said nothing, but even in the misty gray of the dawn, I could see his eyes tighten behind his mask as he regarded me. He looked up at the man with the phone, and tilted his head slightly to the side.

The man checked his phone, and nodded. "She's telling the truth. It's not a compulsion."

The first man looked back at me, and shook his head slowly, as if unbelieving.

"What's wrong with you people?" I said. "Can't you just leave us alone?"

The scarred woman gave me a genuinely sad look. "I'm sorry, dear, but we can't."

Something jabbed me in the neck. My hand flew to the spot. I turned in time to see another dark figure pull a needle away. Shock parted my lips. The last thing I saw before I passed out was the sad look on the blonde woman's face.

Chapter 40

People in masks chase me through a never-ending maze of dark alleys. Tyler calls to me from somewhere ahead, but no matter how hard I run, or where I go, I can't find him. I can't see him through the gray mists. I run around a corner. A hulking figure with a broken porcelain face stands there, and I slam into him. Iron hands grip me, and the neutral porcelain mouth curves up in a cruel smile, sending cracks racing along its surface.

The mask shatters. The black hood contains nothing but a void where a face should be, and cold laughter echoes from within.

I screamed and jerked awake.

Something bound my wrists behind my back. Grogginess permeated my mind, but I managed to wriggle myself into a sitting position. I was in the back seat of an SUV—one of the Exorcist vehicles, I realized with a shudder. I looked down and noticed a wide, plastic band securing my feet together. I tried to move my hands, but whatever bound them seemed attached to something immovable.

Fumbling with my fingers, I found a metal loop, probably used to secure baby seats, with the sturdy plastic cuff running through them. I looked through the windows, and saw SUVs parked to either side of the one I was in, along with a few black sedans neatly lined up in a large parking lot. A large gray-stoned church with a steeple towering overhead dominated the forward view. Trees bordered the parking lot, but I could see high-rise buildings in the distance. It appeared I was back in the city—which area of it remained a mystery. The church looked familiar. It might have been one of those Tyler had found in the Yellow Pages. I had never asked him why he'd been to all those churches. Had he been looking for the Exorcists? Had his search only revealed himself instead of them?

Urgency cleared the grogginess from my system. I had to find him before the exorcism ritual. Before they sent him away. I strained against the cuff on my wrists, but it was too strong to break. The strap on my feet, however, wasn't secured to anything. I looked around the cabin for something, anything to cut my bonds, but aside from a few scraps of paper, it looked bare.

Shouting in frustration, I tugged, squirmed, and fought the strap on my hands, wriggling desperately, but it was hopeless. As I leaned back, breathless from my exertions, I felt something hard press against my backside. At first, I thought it was the seatbelt buckle, but it felt too small. Using the forefinger on my left hand, I probed the area, and found something wedged in the crack of the seat.

My middle finger partnered with the first, forming a pincer to pull the object closer until I could grip it. It felt rough to the touch. But as I moved my hand down it, I felt cold metal and the sting of a sharp edge.

A knife!

Thanking whatever happy accident had stranded it in the crack of the seat, I angled it the best I could and rubbed it against my bonds. My hand cramped from the awkward position, but the knife was apparently razor sharp, making short work of the plastic cuff. Blood rushed back into my hands, bringing with it the pricks of needles as full feeling returned.

After slicing loose the bond on my feet, I examined the knife. It was small with what looked like a carved bone or plastic handle and a hinged blade—a jackknife. If it had merely slipped from someone's pocket, why was it open? Nobody slipped an open knife into their pocket unless they wanted to risk opening an artery. The mystery could wait, I decided, as I folded the knife into the handle and palmed it. My dress had no pockets, no easy way to carry it, but it might come in handy.