33
Salem
Screams in the Dark
W hen I came to, I was shivering violently. My body ached with the vicious cold, and every breath I drew felt laborious. I couldn’t move, and several long seconds passed in terror as I wondered if I was dying.
Disoriented, I suddenly realized something warm and heavy was pressed against my back. When I groaned, the thing moved, and something wet and cold nudged against my neck, then my cheek. There was a snuffling sound, then a warm, wet tongue licked frantically at my ear.
“Loki...” My vision swam as I tried to look at him.
I had no idea how long I’d lain there in the snow, but it was only thanks to his body heat that I was still living.
I wrapped my arms around his fluffy neck, clinging to his collar to drag myself to my feet.
He stood patiently as I leaned against him, barely able to stand straight.
My body was too heavy, my limbs numb, and I slumped over the big dog’s back. Loki started walking, dragging me along as I clung to him. He moved determinedly, ears up, maneuvering us carefully through the snow. Then he paused, one ear forward and one back.
All I could hear was the roar and tumult of the storm. Loki stared into the darkness, his tail sticking straight out as a low growl rumbled in his chest.
“Salem! Help me!”
Chills went over my body. Panic churned in my stomach.
That was Rayne’s voice—faint, but undeniable.
Instantly, adrenaline shot through every limb.
I went from sluggish to red alert in mere seconds, but my body didn’t want to cooperate.
I tried to stand, walked only a few feet, and collapsed again in the snow.
Loki began to pant and bark, jerking against my hold on him. But I refused to let go of his collar. The voice sounded like Rayne, but memories of the angel and its mockery kept me rooted in place.
“Salem! Please! Help me!”
Her distant voice was sharp with agony. As panic rushed through me like a cold river, I yelled, “Rayne! Rayne, can you hear me?”
The wind snatched my words away, drowning them in the storm.
Loki lurched forward with a furious snarl, overpowering me. His wet collar slipped out of my grip and he ran through the trees and out of sight, his barking getting farther and farther away.
“Loki! No!” I had no light, and only a knife for a weapon. I had no idea where I was. Adrenaline alone kept me upright as I stumbled forward.
“Salem!”
“Oh, God, Rayne...”
What could I do? Every second of uncertainty was too long. I had to find Rayne, I had to . It was foolish to go on without help, but I didn’t even know if I could find my way back. I shouldn’t have come out here, I never should have left the house...
It was dangerous. Likely only death waited for me out there in the trees. But if I ignored her voice, if there was even the slightest chance that Rayne was really out there, I would never forgive myself for abandoning her.
My entire body ached with the cold, as if I were walking on needles. Loki’s barking was distant and vicious, as if he was in pursuit of something. Every few seconds, Rayne would call, but I didn’t dare answer. I moved as silently as I could, my head on a swivel.
I was not the hunter. I was the prey, and every step could be my last.
My flashlight cast its eerie beam through the swirling snow, but shadows were all around me.
My paranoia made me see things that weren’t there, as if dark figures were darting between the trees.
I swore I could still hear whispers on the wind, the soft sound of weeping making the hair on my neck stand straight up.
It was impossible to tell what was real, what was imaginary, and what intended to kill me.
My light flickered. Something was moving nearby, but I couldn’t see it no matter which way I turned. Loki’s barking was closer than ever. Despite my throat swelling with panic, I called softly. “Loki? Rayne? Are you... are you there?”
My neck tingled with the horrible sense of being watched.
From the dark came a whisper, “Salem... please... help me.”
The vague outline of a figure was crouched in front of me, my light flickering rapidly as I faced it. The air was sharp with a fleshy, metallic scent. Like an open, rotten wound.
I couldn’t speak. I didn’t dare. I held my knife at the ready, even knowing it wasn’t enough to defend my life.
Slowly, the figure stood up, and the angel turned its eyeless face toward me.
“Oh... God... no...” I backed away, arms shaking, knees threatening to buckle. The angel’s head twitched eagerly as it crawled toward me, rancid breath clouding in the air. Its nostrils flared and it screeched, the sound so awful that my heart clenched with terror.
In a perfect mimicry of Rayne, it said, “Help me, please... help me...”
My brain kept telling my legs to run ... run ... run ... but they wouldn’t obey. Screams were caught in my throat, my body rigid with terror. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.
The creature’s mouth gaped open, revealing a void-like maw full of teeth.
It lunged, slamming into me and sending me sprawling to the ground.
I slashed the knife wildly, hoping desperately to feel it pierce into flesh.
Putrid saliva dripped onto me, claws raking into the snow around me, and as the blade made contact, something wet and hot splattered across my face.
But the next beastly scream I heard wasn’t from the angel. It was Loki.
He was like a shadow sprinting from the trees and flying through the air. He barreled into my attacker, jaws snapping closed around one of its long limbs. In a flurry of snow and horrific sounds they tumbled to the ground, and it was impossible to tell beast from dog in the chaos.
A gunshot rang out. Loki had not come alone.
Rayne stepped into the beam of my shuddering light, her clothing soaked, her hair wild. Blood was splattered on her face and had drenched her coat, but she moved swiftly to take aim and fire again.
The beast screamed as it rose up on its hoofed hind limbs.
Bloody wounds peppered its chest, but it roared its defiance and slashed its claws at the dog as he danced around its feet, snarling and snapping.
It was dangerously close to me, and as it swung around to face me again, I lunged forward with a scream and plunged the knife into its thigh.
The angel flailed, its wretched shrieks threatening to burst my eardrums. One of its long limbs struck me as it turned to flee, and I was knocked to the ground. Dizzied, I watched it disappear into the darkness, leaving a trail of dark red blood.
Strong arms wrapped around me, dragging me to my feet again. “Salem! Come on, get up, we have to go, we have to go now !”
Rayne held me tight, one arm around me as the other held her gun. She whistled, one quick, sharp sound, and Loki came bounding to us.
Stumbling in the snow, we made our way through the dark. Loki followed close behind us, stopping every now and then to stare back into the shadows. The eerie shrieks of the injured beast were frighteningly close. We hadn’t defeated it; we’d only made it angry.
“Rayne... where are we?” I said.
“I don’t know, exactly,” she said, gritting her teeth. “We just have to keep moving. I crashed the ATV. Couldn’t fucking see where I was going.” She tried to whistle again, but her lips were chapped from the wind and cold. “Loki! Home! Go home!”
The dog cocked his head as he listened to her command. He put his nose to the wind, then to the ground, and started off determinedly through the trees.
“Follow him,” Rayne said. “He’ll find the way.”
We kept going, trudging through fresh snow as Loki guided us. The arm Rayne wrapped around me was soaked with blood; I could smell it, feel its stickiness, and when I looked down, her hand was stained with it. Fresh, bright, and cherry red.
“Rayne, you’re bleeding... you’re hurt...”
“Never mind that.” Her eyes had the look of a hunted animal, wide, wary, and feral. “What about you?”
“I’m not hurt.” I wasn’t entirely sure that was true, but my own injuries didn’t matter to me right then. “God, Rayne, there’s so much blood.”
She suddenly stumbled, barely catching herself against a tree. Swooping under her arm, I supported her as she bared her teeth, cursing in pain.
“We can’t stop,” she said. “How did you get all the way out here? You shouldn’t.
.. shouldn’t have left Andy’s house.” Her strength was fading fast. Her eyes rolled back and her legs buckled, nearly taking both of us to the ground.
Loki whimpered, coming back to Rayne’s side and nuzzling his nose into her limp hand.
“Go home, Loki,” I said, dragging Rayne upright. The dog barked, looking over his shoulder as he trotted ahead. Without his guidance, I would have had no clue which direction to go. We kept moving, one painful step in front of the other, until we reached the gates of Balfour Manor.
“Good boy, Loki,” I gasped. I wanted to collapse right there inside the gate.
The stairs looked like an impossible task.
Sheer force of will propelled me up them, even as I nearly slipped countless times on the ice-slick stone.
Rayne was barely keeping her feet. She hadn’t said a word, and I wasn’t sure if she was fully concious.
My fingers were so cold, I barely managed to hold the house key steady to unlock the door. We stumbled inside, and as if crossing the threshold flicked a switch, Rayne collapsed, one hand clutching her injured arm.
I swiftly slammed and locked the doors, then knelt at her side. “You need a doctor.”
She shook her head, eyes squeezed shut. “Can’t make it to town. Not without the ATV. North side of the island... doesn’t have electricity. It went out... that’s how it got to me.”
My anxiety was going haywire, but my brain had found its override: I could ignore my panic for the sake of helping her. Dissociating but bizarrely calm, I closed my eyes for a moment and forced myself to put my next actions into a logical sequence.
“We need to get that wound clean,” I finally said. “Do you have a first aid kit? Needle and thread?” She nodded. “Alright. We need to get you warm too, so... okay, let’s do this, come on.”
My hands were shaking and my stomach was in knots as I helped her to her feet and up the stairs. She was shivering violently; every step made her breath catch with pain.
What if her wound got infected before we could get the doctor out to the house? What if I couldn’t clean it thoroughly enough, or what if my hands shook too hard when I tried to plunge the needle into her skin?
She stumbled on the final step, gripping me tighter for balance. “It used my mom’s voice. It... fucking mimicked her. I don’t... don’t understand... how it could know...”
I had to carry her on my back down the hallway. Her head lolled limply as I dragged her into the bathroom and propped her against the wall. As the tub filled with hot water, I scrambled through the cabinet for supplies.
“Need a drink,” she groaned.
“Let’s focus on stopping the bleeding before we start the liquor infusion,” I said. I hadn’t meant it as a joke, but she laughed softly, and I almost wept at the sound. How it hitched with pain. “I need to get your clothes off. Can I...”
“I thought you’d never ask, sweetheart.” Her slurred words ran together, her head hanging tiredly. I peeled off her sweater and unbuttoned the shirt underneath. A deep, swollen gash ran from her shoulder to her bicep.
“You need stitches,” I said, pulling off her boots. Mud spattered across the floor as I tossed them aside, then pulled down her trousers. Her skin was like ice as I helped her into the bath. She lay back, eyes closed, dirt and blood tinting the steaming water.
“I’ll do it myself,” she whispered. “Don’t need help, I’m... fine...”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. Using a soft cloth, I washed her body and took extra care around the wound, cleaning away dirt and blood. I drained and replaced the water, then rummaged under the sink for a first aid kit.
Rayne kept her eyes closed, her breathing slow and deep. For a few minutes, I thought she was asleep.
Then, “You came looking for me. You thought... thought you’d save me.”
“But you saved me instead,” I said. “Loki knew something was wrong. He ran off to find you.” Her wound was still slowly bleeding, a bright red stream in the white porcelain tub.
If I didn’t take care of that now, she wouldn’t be conscious for much longer.
Sheer willpower could only win against biology for so long.
“Rayne.” I crawled close to the tub, and her eyes were unfocused as she looked at me. “I need to... to, um...” Gulping down the nausea, I forced myself to calmly say, “I’m going to stitch up your wound to stop the bleeding. I need to get you out of the water to do that.”
She forced her eyes open wider, drawing in a breath. “Okay.”
She grasped the edge of the tub, unsteadily, refusing to glance at my hands as they hovered around her. She stood up straight, dripping water and blood, a goddess returning from war. I swallowed hard, staring at her for a moment, at the stone-cold determination in her eyes.
She held out her arm and said, “I can’t step over alone.”
She looked straight ahead as she said it, as if the words were a knife in her own guts. I steadied her, but her knee buckled as she stepped onto the tile. Catching her under the arms, I eased her to the floor, hurriedly dragging over towels to wrap around her and keep her warm.
Her eyes drooped, her expression listless as she murmured, “I shouldn’t have left you. What would I do... what I would I fucking do if you...”
“Save your strength, please,” I said. “Be quiet.”
I dabbed disinfectant around her wound, trying not to think of what had to come next. There was a curved needle and sterile thread in the kit, but my hands were already trembling.
Rayne opened her eyes. They were reddened and glassy with exhaustion as she raised her arm, bringing her hand to my face. Her fingers traced over my cheek, slow and tender.
“You shouldn’t have come for me,” she said, but the words seemed to exhaust her, deflating her like a balloon. She slumped toward me and I propped her back up, bracing her against the tub.
“Stop being a martyr,” I said. “Focus on staying awake so you can tell me how to do this.”
My stomach churned as I threaded the needle. My fingers jumped and trembled, and I gritted my teeth.
“Okay, okay, I... I can do this. I’ve sewn some things before, um, little things. Stuff for costumes.”
“Nerd,” she whispered, eyes nearly closed again. I pursed my lips, my hands shaking a little less. “You can do it. I’ll tell you how.”