The Darkness You Fear Read online

  Angus nodded, and Virginia bent down. “Give me a torch,” she said.

  Angus put an unlit torch in her hand. “It’s the last one,” he said.

  She pushed her pack through the hole, and then got on her stomach and followed it.

  The stench of death permeated the chamber beyond, seeming to cling to her skin, her eyes, her mouth. She lit the last torch. There was a dead body at the center of a pile of bones, bloated, flesh not yet sloughing away from the skeleton. She caught a glimpse of a scurrying creature in the shadows and turned to see a huge rat as it slipped into a hole that seemed no larger around than the creature’s tail. She shuddered.

  The light of Edwin’s ghost was at the far end of the chamber, illuminating another hole that seemed even smaller than the one she had just crawled through. There was a rustle behind her, and Meredith came through. He crawled on his hands and knees through the bones, saw the rotting body, and got to his feet and stumbled to the back wall, next to Becky, who barely seemed to notice he was there.

  “Damn,” Virginia heard Drake say as his head appeared, his face flushed, his eyes wide with strain. “This is a tight fit.”

  The top of his shoulders appeared and then—nothing. He lay there gasping. “I think…I think I’m stuck.”

  Virginia almost laughed. This chamber of horrors was just too much. Bones and bodies and dreadful spirits, and now a stuck companion. She turned to Becky, who seemed to finally be coming back to the present. Virginia handed over her pistol.

  “Keep an eye on Meredith,” she said. “Shoot him if he tries anything.”

  She reached down and tried to find a way to pull Drake through, but she could barely get her slender fingers around his shoulders. Finally, she got them under his armpits and began to pull.

  Becky cried out behind her, and Virginia lost her grip at the same moment. She fell backward, landing on her rear. She cried out from the pain, momentarily blinded, stars flashing through her vision. Then she saw Meredith standing over her, pistol in hand.

  Virginia got to her feet, gauging the distance between them. Meredith backed up a step. “I won’t mind shooting you, Miss Reed,” he said.

  Virginia calmed herself, deciding she would have to wait for her moment.

  Meredith waved his gun toward the back wall, and Virginia followed his instructions, moving to Becky’s side.

  “Damn you, Meredith,” Drake snarled. “You’re finished.”

  Meredith took two quick steps and slammed his boot against the side of Drake’s head. The thud seemed to send shock waves all the way across the chamber, and there was a sharp crack. Drake’s head lolled unnaturally to one side and stayed there, unmoving.

  “Like a cork in a whiskey bottle,” Meredith said cheerfully. “That ought to keep the others out long enough.”

  Long enough for what? Virginia wondered, then saw Meredith’s leer.

  “Which of you should I kill first?” Meredith said. “Two beautiful women who have been nothing but a pox on my life. I’ll be glad to be done with you.” He grabbed Becky, who cried out.

  Virginia didn’t say anything, amazed that the man couldn’t sense the growing hatred in the chamber. The ancient spirits were rising out of the bones, coming through the walls, filling every inch with their red and blinding hatred.

  The spirits swirled around Meredith’s head, but he didn’t seem to notice them. Faster and faster they circled, and then, in a flash, they went into the man’s eyes, his ears, his mouth, and then into the center of his belly.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Lost Blue Bucket Mine, Oregon Territory, October 1851

  “Jonathan!” Meredith awoke to a harsh, shrewish voice he had once obeyed without question. He hadn’t thought of her in years.

  “Eliza?” he muttered. He felt the girl in his arms squirm a little. He held Becky tighter and jammed the muzzle of the gun to her head. It is only an illusion, he thought. My wife isn’t here.

  Eliza’s harsh voice overrode his doubts. “What are you doing, Jonathan? Where is Sarah?”

  At the sound of his daughter’s name, all the anger and hate that had crusted over his memories began to crack. He’d held back these thoughts, these feelings for so long. He’d denied his old life, his old emotions. But Eliza would not allow him that any longer.

  “Why did you kill me, Jonathan?” His first wife had been a harridan, a nag, a scold…and yet, she had always known how to get through to him with her sharp voice and her uncanny ability to see his vulnerabilities.

  He felt a small stirring of guilt. It was just a small crack in the hardened shell of his defenses, but he sensed the reservoir of shame beneath, a wellspring he hadn’t known existed. Not because of Eliza—she had deserved her fate—but because it reminded him of Sarah.

  He could never think about Sarah for long before feeling himself soften and lose focus, so he never thought of her; he never spoke her name.

  Until now.

  “You killed Sarah,” he said.

  “No, Jonathan,” Eliza said. “You killed her. It was you who harnessed the horses. It was you who neglected to fix the wheel. I tried to stop, but you had spooked the horses too much. It was you, Jonathan.”

  “No!” he cried. Without realizing it, he let go of Becky, who dropped to the ground. He didn’t see her grab a femur from the pile of bones. He didn’t noticed her raising it over her head.

  His head exploded with pain at the same time that all the guilt and shame he’d hidden from himself and from the world broke through and filled his body like fire. He dropped to his knees.

  He only vaguely noticed when Virginia Reed approached him. He felt his arms being wrenched behind his back and bound, but he didn’t care. He only cared for the burning light before his eyes.

  “You killed Sarah!” his wife wailed, and then the light exploded, and he was blinded.

  Out of the darkness, flash of light rose up from the bones in the shape of his precious Sarah, floating in the middle of the chamber.

  “Papa?” The small girl’s voice circled the chamber as if it was seeking him. “Where’s Mama?”

  It isn’t real, Jonathan thought. It is just this place getting to me. Nothing more.

  “Where’s Mama, Papa?”

  “Shut up,” he said aloud.

  The Reed girl was looking at him peculiarly. “It isn’t real,” he said to her—and to himself. “She isn’t here.”

  “It’s all real,” Virginia Reed said. “I hear her.”

  “Papa?” The small voice, which had once been so precious to him, began as a mere spark. But with every word, the blaze was growing.

  “Sarah,” he said. “Sleep in peace, daughter. None of this concerns you.”

  “Why did you hurt Mama?” the voice continued, soft and yet relentless.

  “She was already dying,” he said. That was what he’d always told himself, that smothering Eliza was a kindness, that she was so mangled and torn that she never would have survived, that the rage he had felt while holding his hands over his wife’s nose and mouth was directed at God, not at her.

  Sarah’s little broken body had been lying by his side as he killed his wife. His daughter’s eyes had been closed. She couldn’t have seen what he had done. It was an illusion, created by the ghosts of this place. It was the danger playing tricks on his mind, or perhaps it was the bad air, and he was being smothered and his tormented body was contriving nightmares.

  “Why didn’t you save me, Papa?” Sarah’s voice asked. “Why didn’t we stay home? I liked it there.”

  “I wanted a better life for you, Sarah,” he answered. He didn’t care anymore that the two women in the chamber were staring at him. “What if something happened to me? I wanted us to be someplace where there were more people, where I could help you. We would have been dirt-poor back home, Sarah. I couldn’t have taken care of you.”

  “Papa?” The little voice still seemed to be seeking him, as if she didn’t recognize her own father. His heart shredded, the p
ainful shards spreading through his body. He was not the Papa she had known, kind and attentive and loving. He’d turned away from all that in his anger, determined to take from this world what he wanted, if for no other reason than to keep others from being happy.

  “Where are you, Papa? Why did you leave me?”

  “I’m here, Sarah. I’m sorry. I didn’t leave you!”

  “Papa!” The small voice grew in volume, turning into the wail of a banshee. Jonathan cried out and fell to his knees.

  ***

  “What’s happening?” Becky whispered.

  “The impossible,” Virginia said. “It appears that Jonathan Meredith has a conscience after all.”

  “Sarah was his daughter,” Becky said. “But she died on the trail, only a few weeks after leaving Independence. How could she be here?”

  “I don’t think it matters how or why,” Virginia said. “The guilt is in his mind, and this chamber intensifies it.”

  Becky gulped. She was white and shaking, and without a doubt dealing with her own guilt and shame, just as Virginia’s mind was filled with regret and pain over failing Jean Baptiste and Bayliss, just as George Donner now hovered before her, asking why she couldn’t have been stronger, why she couldn’t have saved them all. No matter that it was Donner who had led them to the slaughter—the guilt she felt was as deep as if she had been the one who had chosen the route, who had entrapped them in the snows.

  Meredith was on his knees, gibbering. “Sarah…Sarah…” he repeated over and over again. He fell onto his side and curled up in a ball. “I never meant to hurt you. It wasn’t my fault!”

  Becky approached carefully and poked him in the side with her foot, as if not quite trusting her eyes. “I think maybe he loved her,” she said.

  “He loved himself,” Virginia said. “His daughter was merely an extension of that.”

  Becky shook her head in wonderment. “No, you didn’t know him. He was different before Sarah died. Not a good man, but…”

  “Every evil man has his reasons for the evil he does. He may have loved Sarah, but that is no excuse.”

  Becky didn’t try to defend Meredith further. In the ensuing silence, they heard distant voices. There was a small scraping sound, and they both turned to see Drake’s lifeless body moving forward a few inches.

  Becky took one of the dead man’s arms and Virginia took the other, and between them, they pulled him all the way into the chamber. Angus scrambled through the hole moments later, gun in hand.

  He took in the sight of the two women, and then his eyes darted about the chamber, not even seeing Meredith until he heard the man groan.

  “Sarah!” Meredith cried out at the top of his voice. Then he curled up even tighter into a ball.

  “Will wonders never cease,” Angus said. “Who’s Sarah?”

  “Long story,” Virginia said. Angus peered into her face, then decided to accept her explanation, or lack thereof. He leaned through the hole and shouted, “It’s safe! Come on through!”

  Jed scrambled in and went to Becky’s side, taking her in his arms. She seemed to almost collapse at his comforting touch, and put her face against his chest and started crying. Virginia felt like crying too, and it was clear that everyone was feeling the same strong emotions.

  “What is this place?” Jed asked.

  “It is all our fears and all our shame and every little thing we ever did wrong,” Virginia said. “We can deal with it later. Don’t think about it now; we’re all guilty of something.”

  “Some more than others,” Angus said, looking down at Meredith in horror. “I have to say, I never thought I felt any guilt over the loss of my comrades in arms, but Sergeant Fitzgerald seems to be holding a grudge. Old Carr and young Stilton, whom I barely knew—they’re coming at me. How do we get out of this place?”

  They all turned to Becky, who pushed herself away from Jed, wiping her eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t think Allie and Cager and Edwin like this place much.”

  “Edwin?” Jed called out.

  A light appeared at the far end of the chamber. It was flickering, barely there, but gave enough illumination for them to see a small hole in the rocks. Then the light blinked out.

  “What do we do with this blighter?” Angus said, walking over to Meredith and toeing him in the stomach, though not as gently as Becky had. “We can’t very well carry him out of here.”

  No one responded at first. All of them knew the answer, but none of them wanted to say it. Instead, they turned to Virginia.

  “If the deed must be done,” she said, “it must be one of you.”

  Again, there was silence.

  “I say we just leave him here,” Jed said. “Let him rot.”

  “With his hands tied?” Virginia asked. “Kinder to shoot him.”

  Becky looked down at the shivering man. It was as if Meredith was gone, replaced by this mound of empty flesh. “We will untie him, and we will leave him. If he dares to show his face, we make sure that he is arrested for his crimes. We have enough witnesses, enough evidence to make sure he never does any more harm.”

  “What if he escapes?” Jed demanded. “What if he goes back East and hurts other people?”

  Becky held out the pistol. “You have my blessing to shoot him right here.”

  Jed glanced away, his countenance darkening, his hand twitching on the gun, and for a moment Virginia thought he’d take up the dare. Then he looked at the ground and sighed. “I can’t just kill him, no matter what he did to Edwin.”

  Angus was standing to one side, a bemused look on his face. “I’ll do it for you,” he said. “I have a feeling he wouldn’t think twice in the same circumstances.”

  Becky shook her head. “It must be one of us. But I think John Meredith is finished, one way or another. He’ll be but a shadow…a ghost of himself.”

  If we are lucky, a ghost who haunts only himself, Virginia thought. Still, if he escaped and did further harm, it would be on their heads. “Let’s go,” she said. She motioned toward the exit, and Jed and Becky immediately made for it, wanting nothing more than to escape the bone chamber and its quandaries. Angus motioned for Virginia to go ahead of him, but she shook her head.

  “You go on,” she said.

  He peered at her face as if trying to read her intentions. Then he nodded, squirmed into the narrow hole, and disappeared from view.

  Virginia went back to Meredith, who was no longer moving or speaking at all. He was breathing heavily, but seemed unaware of his surroundings or of her.

  Virginia pulled out her bowie knife and knelt beside him. She put the blade to Meredith’s throat.

  It might be a kindness, she thought. Then she heard her father’s voice—not that of his ghost, for John Reed was still very much alive, but that of her hero, the man she most admired. “Never take a life unless you must,” he’d said to her once, when she had shot a coyote on their property and then just left it on the ground.

  “You must leave.” Drake’s clear voice filled the chamber. She gasped and turned to his body, but he was unmoving. Instead, there was a bright light hovering above the corpse. “Tell Mary…” his voice said. “Tell her I loved…”

  And then the light shrank and blinked out.

  “I’m sorry, Drake,” Virginia said sadly.

  She looked down at Meredith, all thoughts of vengeance vanishing. She lowered her knife and quickly cut his bonds away. “Don’t ever show your face again,” she whispered.

  She sheathed her blade and turned away. She went to the hole and looked back. John Meredith moaned, “Sarah, please…”

  Virginia began to leave, but at the last second, she turned back and addressed the ghosts of the First People.

  “I promise you, no one will ever disturb you again,” she said. “You may join your ancestors. You have the word of the Canowiki.”

  She didn’t know if the word meant anything to them, but something must have gotten through. The dread she had felt since entering the bone chambe
r lifted from her, and for the first time in days, she felt hope as she climbed up toward the light far above.

  ***

  The ghosts did not bother the rats. The creatures felt neither guilt nor shame. They were hungry, but the man quivering on the ground was still alive, even healthy, so it took some time before they approached him. One of them took a quick bite of an exposed finger, and when the prey didn’t react, the others crawled over him, each looking for a soft place to begin feeding.

  He cried out when they started tearing into him, but he didn’t rise; he didn’t swat them away. One rat crawled onto his face and began eating the soft lips even as they were moving, making the same motion over and over again, a sound the rat didn’t understand.

  “Sarah…”

  ***

  Edwin floated, leading the living away from the bone chamber. He especially didn’t like it there. The old ghosts were powerful, and when they noticed the ghosts of the children at all, it was to fill them with dread.

  At first, he had drifted, aware that there were living people in the upper chambers but content to leave them alone. He didn’t remember how he’d gotten here. Then he had woken in darkness to see Allie and Cager standing over him, looking as confused as he felt.

  “Edwin?” Cager asked.

  It was then that Edwin noticed that Cager’s leg was healed. Edwin sat up and kept rising until he was floating above the floor. It scared him. “Where am I?”

  “You are dead,” Allie said. Her voice was flat, but it sent him flying about the cavern, looking for escape, looking for oblivion. Instead, he found his own broken body, blood welling from a hole in his back, and then he remembered: he’d followed his stepfather to this place, feeling proud that Jonathan was finally including him in his business.

  “I found gold,” Jonathan had said.

  Edwin had thrilled to the idea. He would be so rich that he could find Becky Catledge and propose to her.

  Instead, in the darkness, he’d stumbled across the bones of his friends. He had begun to turn to confront his stepfather when he felt something slam into his back, as if the walls of the cavern had fallen in on him.