Devils night, p.25
Devil's Night, page 25
I’m in the bank at Eden, Linden realized. Anvi had brought her here. But she had no idea why.
“This is where the guilty are punished,” Anvi said.
That didn’t sound good.
Anvi set down the water bottle next to Linden. “You’ve been asleep all day. You need to get up now.”
Linden tried sitting up. Her head ached, and she felt nauseous. Her hands were bound in front of her.
“Anvi, whatever you think I did—”
“I know it wasn’t you. It was him.”
Did she mean Tripp? Linden was about to agree, but she wasn’t sure that was a good idea, either.
“I really need to pee,” Linden said. Anvi nodded.
“We can go over here.”
Anvi helped her up. Blue and green light flashed in through the building’s upper windows.
She and Anvi stepped over a conduit which organized the cords along the floor. Before now, Linden had only peeked inside the bank. Most of the electrical for the music show passed through this building and out to the scaffolding around the stage. This was also the place where Scott had gotten tangled up in the cords along the wall. Almost strangled. It was an awful thought. Linden couldn’t imagine a worse place to die, surrounded by these charred walls.
Could she scream? Would anyone hear her? Not over the music. She heard the DJ’s voice shouting at the crowd. Their answering cries. It was the third night of the festival.
Devil’s Night.
Linden looked down at her hands. She was wearing handcuffs. Where did Anvi get handcuffs?
“We really should go.” Linden kept her tone even. “They’ll need us at the festival. It’s starting.”
“Not yet. We have to wait.”
“Wait for what?”
“It’s him who’s guilty.” Anvi paused and glanced to the side. “Only the guilty are punished.”
That again. “Do you mean…Tripp?”
She hesitated. “Yes. I think so.”
They reached the far corner of the bank. It smelled bad over here. So this was the bathroom, apparently. Linden breathed from her mouth, accepted Anvi’s help with her pants, and did her business. This was not the moment to panic.
Alright, think, Linden told herself. She didn’t know what was wrong with Anvi’s mind right now, and really, she didn’t want to know. She just wanted out of here. In one piece, preferably.
When they’d crossed the room again, Linden said, “I’m pretty angry at Tripp too. Maybe he deserves to be punished for what he did. But I’ve got other plans tonight, so…”
“He won’t give me the code,” Anvi murmured. “He could end this if he wanted.”
“What code?” Linden asked.
Anvi looked at her sharply. “You don’t understand.”
“Hey, I get it. He hurt me, too.” Tell her the truth. Maybe that would get through. Linden laughed, though her eyes stung. “I was convinced he was going to marry me. Can you believe that? But he doesn’t love anyone but himself.”
“I gave him so much.” Anvi knelt by Linden’s side, her eyes suddenly more focused. “And then he took more, and he threw me away when he was done. Everything I worked for is gone.” Anvi brushed away tears. “It means nothing to him.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetie. Truly. But is he really worth…” Linden nodded at the surrounding space. “Whatever this is?”
Anvi rubbed her face. Her eyes were going distant again. She got up and walked a few feet away. Her body stilled, her head tilted. Like she was listening to something. The music?
“There are other options,” Linden said. “We can end him online. With our contacts—”
“He has to pay for what he’s done,” Anvi screamed.
She dug into her pocket and produced a gun.
“Oh, shit.” Linden held up her cuffed hands, like that would help protect her. “No, no, no. I’m on your side, okay?”
Anvi wasn’t pointing the gun at her. But Linden was glad she’d already peed, because if not, she’d be a mess right now.
“We’re in this together,” Linden said. “You and me. Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”
Anvi nodded. “When he gets here.”
Still holding the gun in one hand, Anvi took out her phone with the other. Her face glowed in the screen’s light. She started typing with her thumb.
Linden heard a sliding sound. In the shadows of the room, something was moving.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
I’m Penny Wright.
I was born…April 18, 1994. My father is Lawrence Wright. My mom is…my mom…
Penny struggled to remember. “Debbie,” she whispered. “My mom is Debbie.”
She opened her eyes. She was lying with her back on the hard floor. Everything was dark. Slowly she sat up, her body aching. Her throat was sore. She coughed, but the pain only worsened. Music thumped from some distant place.
She’d been trapped inside Anabel’s memories. Penny had spent days, weeks, months inside this stinking room. She’d felt the utter desperation of knowing she’d never leave. Even if that door suddenly opened, she could never leave. Because if she did, who would take her side? Who would give her a roof? Food for her baby? No one cared if she lived or starved.
Except him. The man she hated most.
And he’d given her the single comfort that she had in the world. A baby daughter.
But it hadn’t been him who held Penny down. There was no ghost here but Anabel; Penny understood that now. Anabel was reliving the most terrible moments of her existence in this room. She had died, but she’d never been able to go beyond the hallways of the hotel. Always, again and again, Anabel returned to this room and endured her torture anew.
But Anabel had retreated. Why? Had Penny been able to push her away? Perhaps even freed her, like she had Matthew’s mother?
Right away, Penny knew that was impossible. Anabel’s spirit was infinitely more disturbed than Matthew’s mother had been, and Penny had no way to form a bridge with her. She’d been so helpless there on the ground, those images playing out in horrifying detail in her mind.
Then she remembered the very last of them—the terror of falling through the air. Her frail body shattering on the ground. That was what made Anabel leave; in Anabel’s lingering mind, she hadn’t perished after that fall. She’d merely returned to her torment. She couldn’t accept that she was dead.
Marian had tried, but she couldn’t save Anabel. She had taken the child—the child that had never been hers.
Penny pushed onto her hands and knees, then stood. She swayed, catching herself against the wall. The wood vibrated just slightly with each beat of the music. She had to get out while she still could. But she could hardly see. She looked to the window and realized—night had fallen. She might’ve been lying there for hours, for all she knew.
It was Devil’s Night. But what had happened to Linden? Or Anvi?
At the window sill, Penny lifted herself up, arms shaking. She got one leg over, then the other. Jumped down. The softened earth caught her fall. Dirt slipped inside her shoes. She looked up at the small square of dark sky between the buildings. Dizziness made the square spin. She braced her hands against her knees.
I can’t.
No. That wasn’t Penny’s thought, but Anabel’s. Marian had climbed out of here with a baby and supplies strapped to her. She’d reached that narrow third-floor window. Penny was healthier and had no such burdens. She could do it.
But it was dark. She could hardly see.
I can’t, that voice insisted.
“You must,” Penny said. Linden was out there somewhere, maybe still in trouble. And Penny couldn’t endure any more time in the secret room with Anabel.
She began to climb.
At first, she visualized the rock-climbing wall at her gym in LA. This one was more challenging. She had to search out the hand and footholds almost entirely by feel. She used the opposite walls for leverage. Just like at the gym, she found a rhythm.
Then she felt the presence again at her side.
I can’t do this. I’ll never be free of him.
A weight sunk onto Penny’s shoulders. Yet she kept propelling herself upwards. She had to make it out. She passed the boarded-up second-floor window and kept going.
After countless minutes, her fingertips touched the next stone windowsill. The glass and frame were entirely gone, leaving the rectangular opening. She didn’t look down, but she sensed the open chasm beneath her. That terrifying drop.
No, Anabel cried inside of her. I can’t go.
Freezing air blew through the window into Penny’s face, forcing her back. Her fingers slipped from the stone. She brought a hand up again, groping for better purchase.
I’m so tired, Anabel said.
But the ghost’s power was growing. Penny’s muscles shook. She wasn’t strong enough to keep holding on. She would never see anyone she loved again—Linden, her parents, Krista, Bryce. And Matthew most of all.
The spirit of the dead girl was pushing her back down. She was going to fall.
“Anabel, please. We have to go.”
The ghost couldn’t hear her. Had no consciousness of her as a separate being. But Penny reached out to her, just as she had to Matthew’s mother the night before. The terrible images—the shame and aching despair—once again engulfed her. But she let them come. She’d helped Mrs. Larsen. So she could do this, too. She had to.
“We can be free. If we go. If we leave this place.”
I can’t be free.
Anabel’s voice was hesitant. The deluge of memories slowed.
Penny’s fingers were nearly giving out. She made one last desperate grab. Her hand closed over the inside curve of the windowsill. She pulled herself up and through the window’s opening and rolled onto the floor. The floorboards creaked beneath her. Her chest heaved, lungs sucking in air.
Anabel was still there. But she was tentative. Confused.
“Your baby is safe,” Penny whispered. “But you fell.”
The ghostly presence started to retreat, returning to her prison, but Penny held to her. Penny played back the memory of Anabel plunging through the air. The shock of the impact.
Tears spilled down Penny’s face.
“You died. You’re free now. It’s time to go.”
The ghost lingered there another few seconds. And then suddenly, Anabel’s presence was gone.
Penny’s mental defenses were gone, too.
She was aware of the scores of people outside on Main Street, the energy of hundreds of souls. Most living, some dead.
Further down the street, an immense darkness hovered, far deeper and colder than the night that surrounded them all.
But here, in the Paradise Hotel, Penny was alone.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Ray kicked the metal sides of the cargo trailer. He was lying on his back, staring into the pitch-black space.
“Can anybody hear me?”
Of course, no one responded. Nor had they for all the hours he’d been here. He was losing his voice. His only sense of time was the crack in the cargo trailer’s door, which he’d discovered while trying to find a way out. For a while, he saw daylight through the crack. The stem of a lock and dirt on the ground. He could hear the generator trucks humming somewhere nearby, that distinctive rumbling noise they made. The metal trailer had gotten unbearably hot.
But now, the daylight had faded, and night was coming back. At least it would cool off again.
Ray had tried thinking about it from every angle, but he just didn’t understand why Anvi would do this to him. She’d left him his wallet, but she’d taken his gun and car keys and everything else—including his pride. She’d attacked Linden, too. Why?
He went to the door and pushed, sucking in the fresh air from the gap.
His throat was painfully dry. His clothes were stiff with evaporating sweat, and his mouth tasted like bile. His eyes were still sore from the bear spray, weepy and ringed with crust no matter how much he rubbed them. And his head hurt so bad. There was a bump on the back of it that almost made him pass out when he touched it.
Ray had only moved to Ashton to spend more time with his dad. Sometimes one of them didn’t sleep at home, and that was fine. They’d go to work the next day and not see each other till dinner, without a single comment on where they’d been. Ray and his father had a convenient understanding—no questions, no need to give answers. But that meant his dad might not even be looking for him yet.
Then again, was he that eager for his sergeant to find out about this? Failing to maintain control of his weapon? Getting overpowered by a girl who couldn’t be taller than five three? That was going to look outstanding on his termination report.
Ray slammed his fist against the trailer door. Then again. He hollered and pounded until he’d spent his energy again. His body slumped against the cool metal.
Then he heard a noise. “Hello? Is somebody in there?”
It had come from outside. Ray sat up, his veins flooding with adrenaline. He banged against the door. “Help! Get me out of here!”
He heard the clank of the lock, and then the door rolled open. “Holy—Ray, is that you?”
Ray tried to step out, but his knee buckled. He landed facedown in the dirt.
Chapter Forty
June thumped her way into the white tent, where the servers were setting out platters of appetizers on a long table. Linden and Penny weren’t here yet; hardly anyone had arrived. June’s crutches dug into her armpits, and the cast on her leg was already starting to itch.
Kelsey put a hand on the small of June’s back. June was exquisitely aware of that touch. But she doubted it would happen again once the other guests arrived. God forbid Kelsey’s father—SunBev VP Jeff Richardson—saw them as anything more than friends. But Kelsey had come to the festival, at least. It was more than June had expected.
“Do I need a name tag or something?” Kelsey asked.
June’s girlfriend had her hair up in a twist. She’d worn a pair of dark jeans with a sparkly tunic, and let June borrow the dress she’d brought—June couldn’t fit into pants because of the cast.
“No name tags,” June said. “We wanted the party to be more…low key.” She glanced around. They’d brought in potted plants to make it feel organic, less like a temporary space. LED candles twinkled on the bar-height tables. She’d gone over the final plans with Linden and the Sterling team just last week, but it felt more like last year.
After leaving the hospital yesterday, she’d wanted to just slink away and hide. But Penny had asked her to stick around, and Kelsey had promised not to leave her side. Even so, June wished to be anywhere but here. What would she say to her co-workers? Sorry about ruining the other party two nights ago. Clumsy me.
Because she certainly couldn’t tell them the truth.
Despite endless questions from the doctors and her bosses and from Kelsey, June had struggled to explain why she’d been up on the second floor of the Paradise Hotel. Her memory was hazy. Partly, it was the concussion, which poor Matthew Larsen had apparently also suffered by having to save her. But her recollections from that night also didn’t make much sense. She’d felt sick, upset. She’d imagined that she heard a voice. Maybe it was a ghost, or maybe June had just made it all up in her mind.
Yet all day today, and especially during the shuttle ride up to Eden, she’d been thinking about what happened in the hotel. When she and Kelsey walked through the festival gate tonight, the Paradise had loomed ahead of her. The memories had only gotten stronger. She remembered that voice, calling out to her. She couldn’t hear it anymore, but she could feel it. The pull to go closer, as if that despairing voice had called to the ever-present sadness that June kept hidden inside.
Last night, she’d wanted to explain it to Kelsey. That voice in the hotel. How it had drawn her to the second floor. But the words wouldn’t come.
Whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault that you fell, Kelsey had said. Maybe she was right.
June had heard someone in the hotel. Penny would’ve believed it. But even if nobody else did, the truth was still the truth. And it wanted to come out.
“What’s wrong?” Kelsey asked. “Do you need to sit?”
June was shaking. A few people were trickling into the party, and she retreated farther from the bar, hoping they wouldn’t notice her yet.
This wasn’t the right time. She was supposed to be smiling, chatting with the SunBev sales team, talking about their imminent product launch. But she didn’t think she could keep this inside anymore. Being here in Eden again, with Kelsey this time—it had made something crack and spill over inside her.
“I need to tell you,” June said. “Now. It can’t wait anymore.”
“Okay.” Kelsey found a chair, took June’s crutches, and made her sit. Kelsey sat beside her, leaning in. “What is it?”
But when June opened her mouth, she didn’t talk about the ghostly voice. A different truth came out.
“It’s about your father.”
In whispers, she told Kelsey about what happened several months ago. How he’d touched her. Humiliated her, and then acted like it was nothing.
Kelsey’s face turned red, and then tears filled her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
Then, Jeff Richardson’s voice boomed across the space. “Kelsey, honey! Isn’t this a surprise. What’re you doing here?”
June’s stomach dropped. She knew that Kelsey wasn’t close to her father. He’d barely been present while she was growing up. But nobody wanted to hear this kind of thing about her parent.
Please don’t leave me, June thought.
Kelsey wiped her eyes, standing. “We’ll talk more about this later, okay? I’m so sorry it happened. But right now, tell me what you want me to do. If you want a scene, I’ll make one. If I should stay quiet, I can do that too.”
