19
Salem
A Call from the Grave
“T his preacher loved the Lord and his wife in equal measure. But when his wife was murdered, the Lord was all he had left. The preacher’s wife was a beautiful woman, but when they found her, her throat was slit from ear to ear.
” He made a grotesque motion with his thumb, as if slicing open his neck.
“She bled to death. She bled so much her entire body was stained bright red, drenched with it. That was how he found her, with her body broken on the rocks below the lighthouse. They say the whole island heard him screaming. He prayed to God for justice. He prayed and wept, wept and prayed, until his face looked just like his wife’s—skeletal and dead .
” Michael lunged at one of the girls with a snarl, laughing when she shrieked and slapped his chest. “But no matter how much he prayed and sacrificed, no matter how great his faith, justice didn’t come. His wife’s murderer was never found.”
He paused to pace around the fire, building anticipation in his audience. I hated to admit it, but I was tense as I waited for him to continue.
“He built her a beautiful resting place, right there, in the graveyard behind me. He had a stone angel commissioned, and placed it over her grave, so she would be watched over forever. No one could ever harm her again. And still he prayed. Please, God, please. Listen to your loyal servant. Strike these sinners down, Lord God, so my wife’s soul may rest in peace. Judge them as they deserve .”
I cast a wary glance over my shoulder, looking for Rayne.
I knew this story. She’d told it to me. Her mother’s murder and her father’s grief.
My stomach coiled to hear it relayed like this, as a spooky tale to scare teenagers instead of a tragedy.
I almost told him to stop, but my curiousity hadn’t been satisfied.
I wanted—no, I needed to know what everyone seemed so determined to keep hidden.
I couldn’t leave here and be left wondering forever.
The crowd of teens, formerly boisterous and playful, had become subdued as they listened to their friend’s tale. My rum was gone, and I wished I had more to get through whatever was coming next.
A knot of dread grew inside me as the storyteller turned, his face cast in flickering shadow.
“Finally,” he said, “God heard his prayers.”
“I think that’s enough.”
I nearly leapt out of my skin at the deep voice beside me.
I turned to find a dark-haired man with a neatly trimmed beard standing there.
He was around my parents’ age, and he gave the teenagers a look that reminded me of my dad as he said, “Run along, enjoy the festival. Don’t scare our poor visitor with your fairy tales. ”
“Yes, Mr. Balfour.”
“Sorry, sir.”
The mumbles and apologies as the group scurried away made me realize who it was beside me even before he reached out his hand to introduce himself.
“Gerard Balfour. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last. You must be Salem.” His smile was friendly, his hand warm. His eyes were the same dark forest green as Rayne’s. “Your last night on the island, I assume? I hope you’ve enjoyed your time.”
“Oh, yes. It’s been lovely.” It had also been weird, mind--blowingly hot, and disturbingly creepy, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.
“You’ll have to excuse the kids. Wild imaginations, especially when they’ve been sneaking liquor from their parents’ cabinets.
” He laughed lightly, but I didn’t. The story had been about his own sister-in-law, his deceased brother’s wife.
Had it been so long that the tragedy, and the stories surrounding it, simply didn’t affect him anymore? “Surely you’re not here alone?”
“Oh, no, Rayne is with me. She just stepped away to talk with the sheriff.”
He nodded slowly, the kind smile frozen stiffly on his face.
“I wish you a safe journey home tomorrow, Salem. Do be safe tonight. I’m sure Rayne has already told you, but don’t wander too far.
” He laughed again, but it didn’t sound as easy as the first time.
“The old roads and forests get terribly dark. Easy to get lost.”
As he walked away, I could feel eyes on me.
Distant strangers in the crowd hurriedly looked away, but it was like I could feel their whispers slithering over my skin.
Suddenly self-conscious, I sidled over to the other side of the bonfire.
The churchyard behind me was empty now that the teenagers had gone, filled only with the crickets’ song. Except...
I frowned, looking over my shoulder toward the graveyard. Was I only imagining things? Was it a strange echo? I swore I could hear something like a whimper, a persistent sound of distress that prodded the knot of dread in my stomach.
I really wanted Rayne to come back.
“Please don’t hurt me.”
A full-body chill washed over me, and I looked back at the graveyard again. The trees creaked, dry leaves rustling. I’d heard a voice, I had no doubt.
“Oh my God... please...”
My heart sped up in alarm. The voice was distant, and something about it was uncanny, but I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what. The cadence was strange.
“Hello?” I took a few steps closer, trying to see into the trees. Leaving my cup on the ground, I dug my phone out of my pocket and turned on the flashlight. “Is someone there?”
No one else was close enough to hear it. The trees were too dense for me to see much at all past the graveyard’s fence.
“Please help me... somebody, please...”
The voice was so small, so weak. The voice of a terrified young woman. My throat tightened with alarm, and I stood still with indecision. Rayne still hadn’t reappeared.
“Hello? Do you need help?” I cupped my mouth and called into the trees. The crickets fell silent, but the playful chimes of the carnival rides still played behind me. The silence drew on, until I began to suspect I had imagined it after all.
But then...
“ Help me. ”
I startled back several steps. The voice was still muffled, but it was harsher, sharper. Riddled with pain. Hands shaking, I lifted my flashlight and walked to the cemetery gate, shining my light down the path.
No one was there.
“Come on, Salem,” I said, trying to hype myself up. “You’re not going to walk away from someone who needs help, are you?”
No, of course I wouldn’t. But that didn’t keep my hands from shaking as I started down the path.
The farther I ventured into the graveyard, the quieter it became. Almost all noise from the festivities was gone, and those sounds I did hear were muffled and eerie: childish screams and drunken laughter.
Gnarled roots grew out of the path, which was rutted with puddles. Blackberry vines tangled in the thick, tall grass, their thorny tendrils catching on my pant legs. Lifting my phone a little higher, I cast my light all around.
Snap.
I whirled to the left, in the direction of the sound. “Is someone there?”
My mouth was so dry. The alcohol had made me brave, but the cold and the dark had chased the last of my warmth away. I couldn’t see shit. Why would anyone be out here without a light? Had a small child gotten lost?
Another twig snapped, stopping me in my tracks. Leaves rustled softly, slowly. As if something was creeping through them, moving with silent intent.
“I can hear you!” I shouted. I had to act like I wasn’t afraid. “I heard you calling earlier! Where are you?”
The total silence that followed told me whoever was out here did not want to be found.
But I had a feeling they wanted to find me .
With chills running up my back, I decided I’d gone far enough. Ready to enjoy the last few hours I had here, I turned around and lifted my light—
Only to come face-to-face with a glowing skull-faced thing .
I screamed. Screamed like I’d never screamed in my life. Frankly, I didn’t even know I had it in me.
With only my phone in hand, I instantly chucked it at my assailant.
I followed it up with fistfuls of twigs, leaves, and more screams. I was throwing anything and everything I could get my hands on.
But the more I threw, the more I realized the monster’s face was askew and its red glow was flickering. It was laughing and puffing.
“Calm down!” it shouted, holding up a pale white hand. The temptation to pick up a rock and throw that next was strong, but I resisted as the teenager pulled off his mask, revealing his unfamiliar face. “It’s just a prank, lady—shit!”
He stumbled backwards as something zipped past his face and hit the tree beside him with a thunk. A large knife protruded from the trunk, and we both immediately looked toward the one who’d thrown it.
Rayne was storming toward us—no, toward him . He put up his hands, swiftly mewling some kind of excuse as she put herself between us. She yanked the knife out of the trunk and jammed it back into its sheath, and his shoulders visibly sagged with the blade put away.
But even without the knife, Rayne’s voice as she got in that boy’s face made me shiver. “Did you fucking touch her?”
“No! No, I swear, I just scared her! It was a prank, just a prank, I swear! I’m sorry, Rayne. I’m sorry, okay?”
He looked at her like she was going to skin him alive. Slowly, she glanced back at me.
“Did he touch you?” she said, jerking her head toward him.
“No,” I said quickly. “He just scared me.”
She nodded and gave the boy one last disgusted look. “Fuck off then. You know better than to be out here in the dark.”
“S-sorry. Sorry.” He mumbled the words to me hurriedly before he fled.
Rayne picked up my phone from the ground, its flashlight shining like a beacon. As she handed it back to me, she said, “Did you hit him with it?”
“Yeah. Right in his stupid face.”
She tried so hard not to smile that she curled her lips between her teeth for a moment.
“You shouldn’t have come out here,” she said once she’d composed herself. “I thought I told you not to wander off.”
I frowned, folding my arms. “Are you scolding me?”
She folded her arms too, mirroring me. “Yeah. I am. I told you not to wander and you did anyway.”
“Well, I thought I heard somebody crying! Then that asshole came out of nowhere.” I sighed. “I hope he gets a black eye.” It was only then I realized Rayne had brought no flashlight. My phone was the only illumination we had, casting her face into deep shadows. “Did you run out here in the dark?”
“I heard you scream,” she said, as if that explained everything.
“How did you know it was me?”
She gave a low, humorless laugh. When she stepped closer, her eyes caught the light and I tried to back away, only to encounter the tall stone grave marker behind me. She leaned her hand against the marker, looking down at me with an expression I couldn’t fully understand.
“I would know your voice anywhere,” she said. “Remember, I’ve made you scream for me. While you’re on this island, under my roof, I’m the only one allowed to do that. Got it?”
Her closeness left me breathless, but I swiftly nodded my head. “Got it.”
“Good girl.” She kissed my forehead and took my hand. “Let’s get back to the festival. The only people out here are the dead, and if you hear them crying, trust me: It’s better to leave them alone.”