Chapter 18 #2
“No,” she coughs. “They thought they could starve the demon into making a deal. I told them I’m not possessed and they said that’s what the demon would want me to say. I even tried to fake being exorcised. It didn’t work.”
“This is all sorts of fucked up.”
“Tell me about it. I’m going to need so much therapy if I get out of here alive.”
“You will get out of here, and I know a great one. I can get you a referral. We send a lot of survivors to her.”
“Survivors,” Gemma echoes.
“That’s what you’ll be. Twice now.”
“It’s thanks to you.”
“Yeah,” I say with a smile. “It is. So don’t go giving up on me or anything. I’ll get these ropes loosened eventually, and just because I can’t burn my way out doesn’t mean I can’t use magic in another way.”
“How many times have you been in situations like this?”
“More than once. More than twice.”
“Aren’t you afraid your luck is going to run out?”
“No, because it’s not luck that saves me. I save myself. And I also put myself into these situations more than the average person. It’s my job to go poking around in the dark and scary shit, remember?”
“Yeah, I do.”
I stop struggling and let my body relax in the chair as much as I can.
I’m not getting anywhere by pulling on the ropes, and the kerosene is burning my skin in the places where it’s been rubbed raw.
I don’t want the pain to trigger the fire and have the whole place go up in smoke. I can’t promise we’ll get out in time.
“Can your whole body be on fire?” Gemma asks.
“I’m not sure, and I’m not going to risk it to find out.”
“Good idea. I definitely can’t be on fire,” she says seriously, and I laugh.
“Sorry. It’s not funny, just…it is.”
“Yeah,” she chuckles, and then coughs. “It’s so ridiculous that it is. What’s your plan?”
“I’m still trying to come up with one.” I know the banishing spell, but I don’t have the herbs.
I vaguely remember the healing potion, but again…
I’m empty-handed. Gritting my teeth and tightly closing my fists, I yank my left arm, twisting my wrist. The ropes splinter and dig into my skin.
It hurts like a bitch, but it’s starting to loosen.
Taking a few seconds to let the pain fade—it hardly does—I give it another pull. My left arm is almost free when the root cellar doors are pulled open. Fading evening light filters in. We’re nearing sunset.
Beth and Amos come down, carrying lanterns. The doors slam shut behind them, sending a whoosh of warm summer air down into the musty old cellar.
“You do know you’ve kidnapped an officer of the law,” I start. “You’re going to be in deep shit for this.”
“You’ll thank me when this is over.” Beth sets her lantern on the ground, and I can see the trail of kerosene better. It’s poured around me in a circle, and some has been dripped, probably on accident, near the stairs.
The flame in the lantern makes my heart race, but crazy Aunt Beth carefully avoids her death trap.
She opens a Bible and starts reading, voice so low I can hardly hear her.
She doesn’t really want to actually hurt us.
She legitimately thinks there is a demon inside of Gemma and reading the Bible is going to piss it off enough that it’ll strike up a deal and magically save her farm.
Being able to see things the way crazy people do is part of why I’m good at my job.
It doesn’t excuse their behavior, but understanding it lets me find them and save the next victim.
“You can’t make a deal if she’s dead,” I start. “Gemma is really sick.”
Amos shakes his head. “That’s exactly the thing he’d want you to say.”
“He?”
“The devil.”
“The devil isn’t talking to me. Or Gemma. Or anyone. I don’t think it works that way. Neither of us are possessed or in contact with the devil. So give it up.”
Beth keeps reading and I let out a sigh.
I’m tied up, drenched in kerosene, but at least I’m not being tortured.
Gotta find that silver lining somewhere.
I watch Beth read a few lines and then look up at Gemma.
She’s batshit crazy, but she’s concerned.
She wants the demon to surface and talk to her, and I know there’s no reasoning with her.
Unlike the last fucker who went after witches, she sees Gemma as a victim as well as a host.
“You’re going to kill her. She’s sick.”
Beth keeps reading and Amos goes to Gemma’s bedside, picking up a bucket and switching it out with a new one.
“We got a confession out of the demon,” Amos tells me. “We know all about you. Controlling fire is something the devil can do.”
“Give me some water and let me try to turn it into wine then. Maybe it’ll sway you the other way.” Neither Beth nor Amos find it funny.
“Ace is a good person,” Gemma says weakly. “She saves people. Puts killers behind bars. She saved me.”
“Did she? Or did she save the demon inside of you?”
“You people are fucking nuts.” I clench my fist and turn my wrist, giving the ropes another tug. They’re around me tightly and aren’t budging. If I could start the fire I’d be out of here in no time, and the frustration builds inside of me. My fingertips start to feel hot. Shit.
“Look…let me go. Let Gemma go. And we’ll walk away and you won’t hear from us again. And I won’t have you arrested,” I lie. “Scout’s honor.”
Amos ignores me and grabs a leather bag from the cellar steps. He pulls out a jar of what I’m guessing is holy water and unscrews the lid. So much for not being tortured.
“You’ve let the devil inside of you, and I can get him out. Send him back to hell. But if you show yourself, demon, we can make a deal.”
“You’re wasting your time,” I mumble, and pull my wrist again. I’m bleeding now, gritting my teeth so hard it hurts my jaw. Don’t catch on fire. Don’t catch on fire. Don’t catch on fire…
Amos steps back, and Beth keeps reading. My new plan is to wait until they leave, and then thrash my arms and legs until the ties come loose or the chair breaks and hope I don’t catch myself on fire along the way.
She reads for what feels like hours, going over verse after verse that condemns witchcraft. Beth moves closer to Gemma, face tightening with fear. I’m not sure what she thinks is going to happen, but Gemma looks so weak and pitiful right now. She couldn’t hurt a puppy even if she tried.
“Please stop,” Gemma cries. “I’m not possessed. I can’t make your crops grow.”
“You partook in black magic and let the devil inside.”
“No. I didn’t. I promise. I didn’t.” She shakes her head, wrapping her blanket tighter around her shoulders. “You know me, Uncle Amos. I’m not a bad person.”
“You weren’t.”
“I left so I could help others. I’m a nurse now.”
Amos looks away and Gemma coughs so hard she almost throws up.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I yell. “She’s going to die down here. Do you want that?”
Beth stops reading, looking up with tears in her eyes. “Amos, maybe we should—”
“No!” he shouts. “If the elders find out we brought her back in this…in this state, you know what will happen.”
“Fuck the elders,” I say, yanking on the ropes again. “Your niece is going to die!”
Amos rounds on me and I’m so fucking pissed but trying hard not to feel the flames leave my fingers. My entire hand is burning hot, and I squeeze my eyes closed in an attempt to curb the fire.
And then Amos screams. My eyes fly open and I see fire. At first I think Beth dropped her lantern. But she didn’t. It’s on the ground next to her, perfectly intact.
Flames shoot up around Amos’s feet, and he madly runs around in an attempt to put them out.
Beth screams and cries, and Gemma throws her blanket at Amos, telling him to smother the flames.
In his panic, he knocks into Beth. She drops the lantern and oil spills out, igniting the flames coming from Amos’s feet.
He jumps back, tripping over the blanket and falling hard to the ground. The fire around his feet smokes and goes out, but the fire from the spilled oil burns hotter and brighter. It’s blocking the way to the stairs, and the flames inch closer to the line of kerosene poured on the ground.
I don’t know much about kerosene fires. I think it burns slower and less intensely than a gasoline fire, but the flames will travel wherever the oil has been spilled. And one of those intentional spills leads right up to me.
“Fucking shit,” I curse, giving the ropes another tug. I kick at the ground, trying to cover the line of oil leading to the chair with dirt. The flames are high but not touching the ceiling. Not yet. If the ceiling catches on fire, we’re all dead.
If the walls catch on fire, we’re dead.
And if the oil just burns on the dirt floor and doesn’t catch anything else on fire…we’re probably still dead because of the fumes.
“Amos, do something!” Beth cries. She presses herself against the wall, face taut with fear. The stairs are blocked off with a line of fire, and the small room is getting hot fast.
“Cover your nose!” I call to Gemma. She’s already having a hard enough time breathing as it is.
I yank my left arm again, crying out in pain as my skin tears.
Gemma takes a bowl of water from the floor next to her cot and throws it at the fire.
Water isn’t going to put out an oil fire.
It needs to be smothered, and Amos is standing there like a deer in headlights with the blanket still around his feet.
The fire pops and sizzles, growing again.
The stairs are moments away from being engulfed, and when that happens, we’ll all be goners.
Amos takes Beth’s hand and pulls her away from the fire.
If they can get out, they’re going to take that chance and leave us down here, tied up like worthless animals. They’re going to let us die.
“Smother the fire!” I yell over the crackling flames. “Do it now before the fire gets out of control.”
Amos flicks his eyes to me, debating if he can trust me or not.
“It’s not fucking witchcraft. It’s science!” Dammit. That might be the same thing in his book.
Beth takes the blanket and tosses it over the spilled oil, covering the lantern. It floats to the ground, and for a brief moment, the fire dies down. But it’s not enough, and a second later, the blanket starts to burn.
Smoke fills the small room. My heart races, and for the first time since waking up in this stupid place, I’m scared shitless. I’m going to die of smoke inhalation and then I’ll be burned to a crisp. What a fucking way to go.
But then the root cellar doors are torn off, and a large, dark shape descends on us, large black wings spread out behind his body.
Jacques’s eyes meet mine, and he leaps over the fire.
Beth screams and scrambles away, going closer to the flames just to avoid Jac.
She looks at me, finger pointed at my face.
I return her terrified look with a grin.
“You wanted the devil…here he is.”