Wilde's Fire (Darkness Falls #1) (5 page)

We’re unable to hold our breath any longer.

“Took you guys long enough,” Brad says, running his fingers along the surface of the water.

“We found a cave!” Brit says.

“Really? How can you see anything when it’s so dark?”

“Well, we think it’s a cave, but we’ll have to come back later, when it’s lighter. You want to check it out with us?” she asks.

“Absolutely.”

The water loses its warmth; goose bumps pop up all over my skin. I step out of the river—my teeth chattering, body trembling—and put on my clothes as fast as possible. It doesn’t take long for the others to follow.

I lead them back to camp, running the entire time, hoping to heat up. I throw some scrap wood into the fire pit while Brit works to get it lit again. Once I’m warm, my stomach growls.

We all shove a few granola bars in our mouths while sitting around the fire, shivering.

At least, Brit and Brad got some sleep. I’ve pretty much been running around all night. The tent is calling my name, and I give in to my exhaustion.

They follow.

We unzip our sleeping bags and huddle together to calm our trembling bodies.

Brit falls asleep and rolls away. Her absence makes my shaking worse.

Brad opens his arms, allowing me to burrow into his chest to get warmer. He kisses my forehead. Brad’s never done that before, not that the kiss bothers me enough to move away from him. But the kiss—combined with his drunken love profession—is enough to make me unsure of his feelings, for the first time in our long friendship. I try not to think about the meaning behind his kiss, and instead, I wonder why he didn’t see the light.

“Kate, wake up,” Brit says, pushing my shoulder.

Judging by the heat in the tent, it must be late in the afternoon. I’m still wrapped in Brad’s embrace, and there is nothing important enough to make me want to move. My best friend’s arms make me feel safe and comfortable. I don’t understand this new closeness between Brad and me. I want to talk to him about us, but not with Brit around.

My eyes stay closed tightly, and I try to ignore Brit’s attempts to wake me.

“
Guys
!” Brit yells.

Brad and I jolt.

Opening his eyes, he tightens his hold on me and groans at Brit. “
What
?”

“It’s almost five … you know, at night! Unless we want to waste the rest of the daylight, we should start exploring the cave soon.” Brit looks deliberately at me.

“Cave time?” Brad asks.

“Yeah, come on, it’ll be fun.” I want to go, but I’m still unwilling to move from his arms.

“Would you two just get up already?” Brit is clearly peeved.

I give in, peel myself away from Brad—who looks unhappy about me getting up—then get dressed. He keeps his eyes averted while I change my dirty clothes, but I couldn’t care less about who’s in the tent—the crispy feel my shirt and pants have, from being wet and subsequently dried by a fire, means they have to come off.

After dressing, I grab another granola bar and gather some gear. “Let’s see, a flashlight, some rope, and our waterproof camera. That should be enough. What do you think, Brit?”

“Great, let’s go.”

Brit and I have issues containing our excitement as we walk toward the swimming hole—she’s practically running, and I keep tripping over things. Brad stays so close to me, I’m afraid my ability to hide my enthusiasm might fail, and we’ll end up having to explain the whole odd story to him.

I don’t understand why a light guided us to the cave, and, I find it odd Brit and I are both so willing to go exploring. But, I push these thoughts from my mind and rush on, hoping the cave is not totally under water, so we can stay in it longer without worrying about how we’re going to breathe.

Shrill laughter rings out ahead of us. The closer we get, the more obvious it becomes that we’re not going to be alone at the swimming hole.

Brit stops at the end of the trail.

“Crap.” She stares at five children splashing around, while their parents watch from the other bank.

“Be nice. We can just wait for them to leave,” I say to my impatient sister.

“What’s the problem?” Brad asks.

“If they decide to follow us, do you want to be responsible for them getting hurt?” I come up with the one response that makes sense.

The children being here shouldn’t bother us, but seeing as we found the cave using a mysterious light, I think we better wait. Not that Brad is aware of this, but he buys the excuse.

We sit on the bank, waiting. The parents watch us the entire time, not even attempting to make their stares inconspicuous. They must figure we’re up to no good. Five or ten minutes pass before they collect their children from the river.

I tip my head in their direction. “Look, they’re getting out.”

At last, we’re free to go explore our cave.

I place the gear on a rock and undress down to my underclothes while Brad turns his head, once again.

Brit eyes the gear. “Do you really think we need the rope and camera right now?”

“No,” I say.

We each carry a flashlight; the rest of the gear we leave behind.

I can see at least a foot of the top of the cave above the water, but Brad cannot. “Are you sure you can’t see it?”

“I swear,” Brad says.

Brit and I exchange glances.

“Can you see it under the water?” she asks.

Brad dunks his head. “Yes.”

With a quick wink, Brit and I decide we should enter from below.

I smile. “Ready?”

They both nod.

We all take a deep breath and immerse ourselves.

As soon as we swim through the mouth of the cave, the water evaporates, and our bodies slam into cold, hard ground. I stand, confused, and wipe off the dirt and stones covering my wet skin.

The air is at least twenty degrees cooler than the air on the other side, and smells of rotting wood and mildew.

Intuition tells me the situation is wrong.

We need to go back.

We are not in a cave.

“We should go—”

Something so horrible, so powerful, takes control over my body—I fall onto my hands and knees and scream.

he cold ground makes my bones ache. My soul is in agony from the wicked atrocities playing through my mind. The vision of gruesome creatures slicing through the terrified, helpless people before me is too much to bear. Their misery becomes my own, like an overpowering poison simmering inside my skin. Fire ignites women and children; as they burn and are left to die, the flames scorch through me. Plumes of blackened smoke rise from cottages, bodies, and from the forest, making the air unbreathable.

“Please stop screaming, Kate. I promise we’re gonna get out of here,” Brad says, rocking me in his lap, forehead pressed against mine. His heart beats so hard, it thumps against my right shoulder.

Gasping for air, I wish I wasn’t here. I wish we were back at home where this hallucination would be gone. But, for all my pleading, it doesn’t go away; the painful vision of devastation only plays stronger in my head.

The beautiful blue sky turns black. Mothers cry out for their children, husbands for their wives. A shrill scream comes from a young girl standing alone. Men and women both run for her, but aren’t fast enough. I watch as the child is torn limb from limb by fiends.

“Kate, shut up, please, just shut up,” Brit says, her voice trembling.

I’m scaring her with my screams, but if she could understand I’m seeing and
feeling
the creatures of my nightmares from the past six years, she would never ask me to be quiet.

The tall, mangled beings murder hundreds, thousands of people. These beasts seem to become stronger with each life they steal, moving from one victim to the next, faster and faster until they look like blurs of gray. There is no hesitation, no remorse. They kill with excitement.

“K-Kate, s-s-stop screaming.” I haven’t heard Brad stutter since fifth grade, when he had to give a speech about Patrick Henry in front of our class.

The fear in Brad’s and Brit’s voices registers in my brain. It’s not the breathless fumbling of my sister’s words that bothers me so much, but that of Brad’s. When his mom collapsed in front of us three years ago in his barn, he didn’t even flinch. He grabbed his cell phone, dialed 9-1-1, and began CPR on her. Brad saved his mom’s life then. Something tells me he’s trying to save my life now.

I take slow breaths, in and out, force the visions to the back of my brain, and open my eyes onto this strange, dark place.

Brad helps me to my feet and holds onto my hand, steadying me.

There is no moon, there are no stars above our heads, no streetlights, nothing but darkness.

Brad and Brit grab our flashlights—providing the only light that can be seen—from the ground and point them on something approaching.

I freeze.

Sniffing the air while moving toward us, like a pack of dogs, are six creatures that could only be from Hell. What I see doesn’t make any sense; the beings before us must be remnants of the visions I’ve experienced. But the panic on Brad’s and Brit’s faces tell me the beings are real.

These creatures have plagued my nightmares for years, but I’ve never seen them like this. Their bodies look somewhat human, but their bones are crooked and mangled beyond belief. They’re naked, with pasty, gray skin and bony fingers. Long claws hang from the hands by their sides. Their eyes, hollow sockets of pitch-blackness, focus on us. Every smooth step they take seems unnatural for such deformed creatures.

Tears spill over the edges of Brit’s deep green eyes, race down her cheeks, drop from her chin, and splatter on the dry earth under our feet. She must understand the finality of this situation.

We are all going to die.

Maybe this could have been avoided if I’d ignored the yellow light that led us into this disaster, or if my parents were with us, like they should have been.

I squeeze Brit’s hand to get her attention.

She looks at me, eyes wide and tormented.

I know what I have to do to save her and Brad.

I love you
, I mouth to her.

She mouths it back.

I turn around and shove Brit in the chest as hard as I can, knocking her through the entrance of the cave, and I pray she’ll make it home to safety.