INK: Vanishing Point (Book 2) (24 page)

“We don’t know. And unless
you have something to contribute, you should leave,” Carl says,
walking across the living room. He, much like everyone else, does not
like Trish. He snaps a look in my direction. “No, it’s
that.” He points to the drawing of Trish.

“What are you looking at?”
Trish approaches the kitchen island where all the drawings are
splayed out. She picks up the image of her and her eyes widen, then
narrow. “What the fuck is this?”

“We don’t know,” McNab
interjects, and he takes the paper from her hands.

“What do you mean you don’t
know?” Her voice reaches an upper register. She starts looking
at the other images. “This is fucking sick! Did Shay do these?”

“We really don’t know what
they are or where they came from,” I tell her while I put my
hand on her shoulder for comfort.

A hopeless expression crosses her face.
Seeing her so lost and off guard is foreign to me. There’s no
malice in her countenance, only fear and confusion. She looks up at
me and tears spill out of the corners of her eyes. “Eli, what
is happening?” She curls into my chest, and my whole body goes
rigid with extreme discomfort. Trish has never been a touchy-feely
person, and I like it that way.

“Eli.” Carl nods at me, and
I’m assuming he wants me to comfort her, but it’s
difficult. I put my arms around her and hold her stiffly, and the
sobbing and incoherent questions flow from her.

In between her sobs I catch bits and
pieces of what she is saying. I hear her say Shay and Kevin’s
names and “Why” and “What the fuck?” It goes
on for a solid five minutes, and we are all just standing there,
astounded that Trish actually seems to have some sort of soul.

“Hey guys, sorry to interrupt.”
Pitch stands in the doorway to the hall wearing an alarmed
expression. “We’ve got some strange activity in here.”

“What’s going on?”
McNab slides off the stool and heads for Pitch.

“The EMF reader is off the charts,
but I got the ghost box working, and I can make out bits of pieces of
conversation,” Pitch explains, then hesitates. “There’s
something else.”

“What is it?” McNab asks.

“Well, now there’s two of
them.” He’s still unsure of what he’s saying.

“Oh shit.” Carl looks at
McNab, his face riddled with apprehension.

“Two of them?” McNab blinks
several times as though it’s helping his thought process. “Two
Shays?”

“Yeah.”

I realize this is so much worse than it
was five minutes ago. “Elise.”

McNab throws his head back in full
understanding. “Jesus, this is bad.”

“What the hell are you all talking
about?” Trish blows her nose.

“I can’t explain right now.”
I head straight past Pitch and McNab. I don’t know what I’m
going to do when I get in there, but I have to do something. I can’t
continue to stand here with my dick in my hand.

“Guys, you gotta see this,”
Quag calls from the bedroom.

We all crowd around the doorway of the
bedroom, and it’s the freakiest thing to see the multicolored
figures moving on the screen. I can hear talking, but I can’t
quite make out the words.

One of the figures is holding still,
turning only to track the movement of the other. The one that’s
moving is running, and instinctively I just know that’s Shay.
She falls, and the other figure moves toward her. We all suck in a
collective breath as we watch the scene play out. We are all impotent
to do anything other than watch.

“McNab, Jesus Christ, we have to
do
something
.”
It comes out of me like a whimper. I feel so helpless.

McNab’s expression is more
alarming than the images on the screen. Seeing him looking completely
clueless is scary as hell, because I have no idea what to do and I
was hoping he knew.

“Carl? What do we do?” I
turn to him, pleading.

Carl’s eyes are closed and he’s
bracing himself on the wall. He looks like he’s in pain.

“Carl?” McNab barks, but
Carl doesn’t answer.

Pitch goes to Carl and puts a hand on
his shoulder for a moment, then looks at McNab.

“Carl!” McNab moves toward
him.

Pitch puts his hand up. “Give him
a minute, he’s in.”

“Eli, would Elise hurt Shay?”
McNab’s voice is trembling.

I think about it. I want to say no, but
I just can’t. The only thing predictable about Elise is that
she was bitter and hateful. “I don’t know, I can’t
say she wouldn’t.”

I realize how ridiculous it is that I’m
talking about a dead person like it were normal to predict her
actions. McNab is looking at the screen again, watching Elise’s
movements closely.

Elise crouches down next to where Shay
is laying and strokes her hair. She’s speaking, but we aren’t
able to understand it.

“Damn it, Pitch, can’t you
get the ghost box to clear that up?” McNab snaps. He’s
really shaken, which has me very concerned.

“I’m getting a reading, and
Shay is as okay as she can be. But we have to pull her out of there.
I can’t read Elise, but I don’t think she has Shay’s
best interests at heart.” Carl finally comes out of his trance.

“Someone’s got to go in, but
who?” McNab looks at each one of us, me last. “It can’t
be me.”

“Of course I’ll go. Tell me
what I have to do to get her out of there.” I volunteer without
any clue as to what I’m supposed to do, or how, or if it’s
even possible.

“Eli, you have to save her.”
Trish speaks up from down the hallway.

“I’m going to,” I say
with resolution.

“Okay, we have to put together a
plan and I have to explain some things to you.” McNab looks at
me like I’m a dead man walking. Whatever it takes to get her
out of there, I’ll do it.

“Eli?” Trish is full of
concern and it’s throwing me off.

“I’m going to get her back.”
I put my hands on her shoulders and watch as the tears stream down
her cheeks. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Shouldn’t someone with some
sort of experience be going in?” Trish asks, looking straight
at McNab.

“It would be ideal, but there’s
no one here that has as much of a chance to get her out as him.”
He ticks his head in my direction.

“Can you go with him?” she
asks.

“No.” McNab answers quickly,
too quickly for my taste. “I think it’s time for you to
go. Don’t you think you should go?”

“I– I–” Trish
stammers.

“Listen, those drawings have me
spooked; we’ll explain everything later, but–”
McNab cuts me off.

“It’s not safe for you here,
it’s not safe for anyone that’s here, so it’s best
if you be on your way.” He pushes past her, careful not to
brush against her.

Trish grabs him by the arm. “Hey.”

McNab shudders and pulls away,
stumbling. “Nobody touches McNab. You need to leave or you’re
going to end up like the picture.” His tone is cruel. I’m
feeling a little bad for Trish.

“Fine.” Trish goes to the
kitchen island and grabs her purse. “You’re a fucking
weirdo, you know that?”

“Get out.” McNab’s
voice hits a lower register full of threat.

“Call me when you hear something.”
She click-clacks across the tile foyer and looks back at me over her
shoulder. “Eli, be careful.”

“I will.”

She puts her hand on the doorknob, and I
can see her head shaking. She turns around one last time. “Eli?”

“Yes.”

“I still think you’re a
fucking asshole.” She just couldn’t help herself.

“I know.” I smile.

She gives me the finger as the door
closes behind her.

“Okay, what do I have to do?”
I turn to McNab.

Carl sits on the couch and motions for
me to do the same.

“Yeah, you should sit down for
this.”

I sit across from Carl and hold my head
in my hands and await my instructions.

“This is going to be dangerous;
are you sure?” McNab asks.

“I figure it’s dangerous or
you’d be doing it.” I hope he detects the annoyance in my
voice. “Whatever it takes to get her back.”

Shay

The smell of peat and mud fills my
nostrils, and I can feel the grit of dirt in my mouth. I roll over
and open my eyes to see Elise standing over me. It takes a minute to
regain my senses of what is happening. A sharp pain shoots through my
head straight to my chest when I realize that I’ve lost Aiden
again.

“Are you okay?” Elise asks,
seemingly concerned.

I look at her with disgust and answer.
“Yeah, everything’s peachy.”

“Hey, I’m the sarcastic
one.” She smiles. Weird.

“Well, let’s take
inventory.” I count on my fingers. “I’m stuck in
Hell with my dead sister and I have no way to get out.”

“We can finally be together, be
the sisters you always wanted to be.” She kneels down to meet
my gaze.

She’s pulling at the parts of what
I always wanted but know that I could never have. Not even now. Why
would she ever want me to stay here with her in Hell? “I think
that ship has sailed.”

“You can stay here with me. Stay
with me, Shay.” She pushes the hair away from my face.

“I’m not staying. I’m
getting out of here. But first I have to find Aiden.” I try to
stand up slowly. It’s difficult, and my footing is very unsure.

“Aiden?” she spits. “This
is about him? He’s gone. Besides, you know you’ve never
really had him.”

A laugh rumbles out on my breath. “This
isn’t about ‘having’ anyone. This is about caring
about him and wanting to help him.”

“Help him with what? Torture
himself some more? Parade yourself in front of him like you’re
some kind of prize?”

“Help him get out of here.”
I don’t like what she’s implying, and I’m not going
to stay here and listen to it. I look in the water for any sign of
him and start walking in the direction the river is flowing, though
it’s settled down considerably.

“You can’t leave here,”
she says maniacally.

“Watch me,” I hiss.

“Nobody leaves here, Shay. We
belong to him now, we are his.” She says this as though it were
a good thing.

“Who?”

“You know. Look, I don’t
want to summon him right now. I want to try to help you accept this,”
she whispers, reaching for my hands.

“I’m not accepting this. I’m
getting the fuck out of here, and if you’re not going to help
me, you need to leave me alone.”

“Alone.” She says it as
though it’s all she’s ever known, which could actually be
true.

“You know I’m really sorry
that things happened the way they did. But there was nothing I could
do. I tried to help you; I tried to be there for you. But let’s
be honest, that’s not what you really wanted. You were never
happy unless you were making me miserable.” My anger’s
rising with the prospect that even in her death she blames me.

“No Shay, you were never there for
me.” She hangs her head and turns away from me.

“You’re so wrong.”

“Am I? Then stay here with me,”
she pleads without turning around.

“No. I can’t. I won’t.”
I continue walking in the opposite direction, leaving her behind.

***

I walk for what feels like days, miles,
and years. There’s no sign of Aiden. I sit on the bank of the
river which makes it look like I haven’t moved at all. I can
still see the remnants of the dock. It’s like I haven’t
gained any ground at all. I’ve resigned myself that Aiden is
gone.

How many times am I going to lose him?
Why is it always this way with him, constantly having to say goodbye
to an empty room instead of to him? Just once I’d love the
chance to tell him goodbye and have it be on my terms and not his.
The thoughts continue to ramble through my mind, and it occurs to me
that I’ve never had the chance to say goodbye to him because
I’ve never had the strength to let go.

I put my fingers to my lips as a single
tear glides down my cheek. “One day I’ll get to say
goodbye on my terms. Right now, I have a problem to solve.”

Sitting in this spot, I start to go over
all the different ways I’ve tried to get out and how and why
they didn’t work. Maybe I wasn’t ready to leave; maybe
because I knew Aiden couldn’t come with me, I didn’t
really want to leave. But now it’s time to stop sitting here
like some sort of weakling. I’m not weak; being sad and
indecisive isn’t weak. Is it?

Fortifying myself, I stand and walk
forward, heavy with purpose. A thousand voices ring in my head.
Voices of the dead. My mother, Elise, Alice and Gary, Kevin and many
I don’t even know. They are all begging me to stay. Then I hear
one voice telling me to come home. It’s Eli.

People start appearing before me in
various states of death and decomposition. All the bodies to go along
with the voices, Mom grabs my elbow. “Don’t go, dear.”

“Let me go, Mom, I don’t
belong here.” I push past her, and her grip tightens on my arm.

“Don’t go, dear,” she
repeats in an absent tone.

The need to get away from her boils in
me. All I can think of is getting away from all the hands and voices
reaching out to me, grabbing at me, pulling me. When I feel pulled
under, I fight harder to get out. Out of the corner of my eye, I see
a sword; instinctively I reach for it and start cutting at the arms
and hands. I can’t look at all the faces, and I keep telling
myself this isn’t real. Regardless of how Mom felt about me,
she wouldn’t want me to be here. I have to hold on to that,
believe it, feel it, know it.

Blood pools at my feet from all the
cutting through the arms and vines. Finally, I come to a clearing.
Eli and Aiden are standing side by side, and I know with certainty
what I have to do to get out of here.

Eli

“What if he gets stuck in there?”
Quag asks with concern as he attaches another electrode to my chest.