Undone: The Complete Duology, page 36
Stacks of banged up gas cans filled the interior with only a path through them. The vapor fumes scraped my airway.
“This is nothing like Luke Hemming’s barn,” Mac murmured.
I sauntered into the barn and dragged my finger along the top of the nearest cans. “This is where the mayor keeps the town’s gas supply. I haven’t been in this barn since I was a teenager.”
“So you just want to hide in here and hope the townspeople run right by us like in a cartoon?” he asked, but he reached to close the doors anyway.
I put a hand on his arm to halt him. “I have a better idea.”
“Anything is a better idea than that.” He hesitated. “Except I don’t like that look on your face, either.”
I grinned. “We’re basically sitting on enough gasoline to blow up this town. If the full moon spell isn’t going to happen, we can just get our hands dirty and do it the old-fashioned way.”
“What happened with your spell?”
My grin disappeared. “Your brother was…”
I trailed off and let him do the math.
He narrowed his eyes at me.
“Look, let’s just focus on the present.” I waved my hands dramatically in front of me. “I’m assuming that despite his confession you aren’t going to let me throw him on an altar and remove his heart, right? So I’m offering a different solution.”
Mac blinked at me a few times, absorbing the fact that I had intended to kill his brother. He seemed to file away that discussion for later.
Instead, he turned to take in the gallons of gasoline at our disposal. “That’s really dangerous, Gracie.”
“For you.”
He looked at me with raised eyebrows.
I held up my hands and wiggled my fingers. My magic pulsed through me in time with my heartbeat. An extra little jolt, and I could blow up this town with willpower alone. Since we only had one chance at this, I was going to use the gasoline store, but my magic would play a significant role in making sure Mac and I got out of here alive.
Well, me. I wasn’t going to let him get anywhere close to the danger. He was brave and strong, but he was no match for an explosion big enough to be seen from space.
I, however, was. Now, anyway. Since this latest leveling up.
Thank the Goddess.
“Let’s create a perimeter,” I said in a rush. “We don’t have a lot of time. I’ll do that, and you gather up as many of those old beer bottles back behind the barn and make some Molotov cocktails like you did before, okay?”
He looked doubtful, but I rubbed my palm against his shoulder.
“We got this, Mac.”
He didn’t seem assured.
“What happens after that?” He cracked open the barn door and we peered out. The coast was clear, but not for long.
“Once we have a perimeter, you make a run for it. I’ll lure the townspeople close enough, light it, and boom.” I mimed an explosion with my fingers. “Many of our problems are solved.”
“Except in that boom,” he said, mimicking my explosion gesture, “will be you, too.”
“Right, that’s where my magic comes in. I’ll shield myself from the fire long enough to escape.”
He opened his mouth, but I cut him off.
“You’ve seen my magic, Mac. You know I can do it. I don’t know if it’ll free the town, but it will give us a chance to do what needs to be done so we can escape.” I pointed towards the door. “There’s no way we can figure out the next step while we have these people on our tail like this.”
Mac surveyed the cans of gasoline, still not sold on the idea. Then he sighed. “What choice do we have?”
I clasped his shoulder. “That’s the spirit.”
We had no time to waste. It wouldn’t take the townspeople long to home in on our hiding spot. I had no doubt they were already canvassing the area looking for us.
I shooed Mac away, and he disappeared outside to gather the discarded empty beer bottles.
With protesting muscles, I lugged the first gas cans out the door and into the field surrounding the barn. I set to work pouring a rectangular perimeter larger than my basement. I wanted to get as many people inside the trap as possible. A few were sure to escape, but there should be enough casualties and injuries to seriously decimate their numbers. If we got really lucky, the survivors would take us seriously enough to back off, too.
Gas can after gas can I lugged outside and soaked the ground like I was coloring in the perimeter. Mac returned to the barn and began filling and stuffing bottles. When I had sufficiently used enough cans on the ground, I took up arm loads of Molotov cocktails and moved them to the trap. I planned to only light one to ignite the others. By the time the townspeople realized what had happened, it would be too late.
Some may never have a chance to figure out they had been tricked.
I should have felt guilt, and maybe old Gracie would have. Given half a chance, these people were going to maim and kill us. They had backed us into a corner. I’d asked them to stop. I’d begged them. They hadn’t listened. Instead, they’d taken delight in hurting and tormenting me, and now they wanted to inflict damage on Mac too.
Years of their insistent abuse had come to this. I would have chosen any other option, but they had given me none.
I placed the last Molotov cocktails on the gasoline-drenched ground, then paused to listen. The crowd was moving in closer. If it wasn’t for the rocky hills behind us, they would have seen us by now.
Mac joined me, a scowl in place.
“You need to go,” I whispered, then nodded in the direction of the footsteps and the talking. “They’ll be on us any minute. Just get as far as you can. I’ll be right there as soon as I set off the fire.”
He slid his hand down my forearm and entwined his fingers with mine. “I think this is a really bad idea, Gracie.”
“I know, but it’ll be okay. I promise.”
He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. We didn’t have time for this, but I melted into the kiss anyway. I threw my arms around his neck, careful not to touch my gasoline-smelling hands to him.
Somehow, this man had not only wandered into my life, but he had stayed by my side. The town had tried to divide us. I’d given him little reason to trust me. Even after discovering his brother, he had given me the benefit of the doubt. Now, I was about to start an inferno that would impress the gods themselves, and he was still here. Either he loved me, or he was crazy.
Perhaps those were the same.
I pulled away from him. “I love you, Mac. Now, go.”
He didn’t move. Sounds broke over the incline and at the top, shadows shifted.
The townspeople were coming. They would see us in moments.
“Go,” I hissed, nudging him.
His gaze flicked to the shadows coming over the incline, then back to me. I nodded, doing my best to look confident and in control.
My magic buzzed until my head hummed with its song.
“Here, you’ll need this.” He handed me a lighter from his pocket. Then he took off into the darkness, putting distance between him and what I was about to do.
With my magic welled up inside me, a force that I could barely contain, I turned to face the townspeople. They flooded over the incline, surging towards me.
21
MAC
I scrambled to the top of a rocky incline, far away from where Gracie stood facing the townspeople head on. She’d strategically backed up to the opposite end of the trap, putting the waiting inferno between her and the crowd.
When they saw her standing alone and vulnerable in the field, they picked up their pace.
I clenched my jaw. I felt like a coward standing out of their line of sight, but I knew my limits. No mortal would survive the impending blast once the fire hit the barn. Gracie would need every drop of her magic to shield herself long enough to escape unscathed. She wouldn’t be able to help me, and my interference would only complicate the plan.
It was straight forward. I just had to let it play out. She would be fine. She had survived all this time without me.
Grace Miller did not need a hero. What she did need though was a way out of this town once she had ignited the fire.
I pulled the map back out of my pocket and held it up again. If I aligned the star, just as dear ol’ Dad had said, then everything else made sense—except the church insignia. According to the map, the church was at the end of the river, which wasn’t correct no matter how I looked at it. Somehow, I didn’t think Dad had been mistaken, yet I couldn’t understand what he was trying to convey here. Had the church moved? Gracie would have known if it had, and that didn’t seem likely anyway.
I’d never gone past the river. The farthest I had traveled was into the waters during the Feast, and I barely remembered anything after gorging on enchanted food and drinks. Otherwise, Gracie had been adamant not to go any farther, and the shifting forest had left me less inclined to explore anyway.
Everything about this town was just a little off even by its own logic. The map almost worked, but not quite. The Reverend had let me kill him with sudden resignation that hadn’t made a damn bit of sense. Yet he spoke of someone else who was growing restless with the town. Was that Sheriff Ditka? The headmaster? Someone else I hadn’t had the distinct pleasure of meeting in this horrible little hole?
Then there was Gracie. I’d seen the Reverend make fire in his hands, and I’d had more than one run in with the shadow demons that roamed the town like stray dogs. The foundation of this town reeked of the supernatural, even if I had not yet determined what kind.
But Gracie was the only actual townsperson with magic. Everyone else, as delusional and wild as they were, were just normal people. Deranged, but not magical. Not even Amelia and her coven had any proof of magic.
So how was it that Grace Miller had become the sole person in this town to develop supernatural abilities? She hadn’t been born with them, so how had she discovered she’d manifested divine skills no one else around her been blessed with?
When had they even occurred?
A sickening feeling rolled through me. I knew the answer without even asking: Grace had become a witch after she had been brutalized and left to fend for herself in a town determined to tear her to shreds. When she had realized she was up against an undefeatable force. When she had decided she would never back down. When she knew she was alone in her quest to defeat the evil that lurked in this town.
She had seen the Reverend and his fire, and the demons in the shadows. The odds hadn’t been just stacked against her. She hadn’t stood a chance.
She’d known it, but Grace Miller would fight for her innocence until her last breath even if she had lost all of it in the process.
I’d seen her in the storm that night, ethereal and untouchable. But I’d also seen the forest shift and ravines split open in the earth. The storm spoke more to Thorn Tree than Grace Miller’s magic.
She’d healed my migraine that day in the kitchen too, but it wouldn’t be the first time mind had ruled over matter. In my own way, I’d also wanted to believe in her magic for the same reason she did: it gave us hope in this bleak battle. It was already easy enough to believe in the unknown in everyday life. In a town like Thorn Tree, it was impossible not believe everything was simply beyond this world.
Grace Miller was many things—strong, determined, fearless. She was beautiful and cunning. I had never met anyone like her, not even close, and never would. She enchanted me in so many ways and I could not imagine a life beyond this without her beside me.
But Gracie Miller was not a witch. Somehow, I’d always known that in the back of my mind. It wasn’t until this moment, when she was putting her life on the line, I had to confront it.
Gracie did not have magic, and she was about to cause an explosion unlike anything this town could imagine. The only thing stopping the blast from taking her out too was a veil of magic that existed only in her mind.
I took off back towards the showdown, shoving the map into my jacket pocket. I scrambled down the rocks, dropped to the ground, and sprang in her direction. My lungs burned as her silhouette came into fuller view. Across from her, the entire town flowed together, amassing in a battalion to take down their greatest foe.
“Come on, you fuckers!” she shouted across the distance at them. She lifted the lighter and flicked the flame to life. “I will destroy you all.”
“Grace, no!” I stopped, doubling over to catch my breath as my side tightened with pain.
She spun on me, fear and indignation on her face lit by the tiny flame in her hand.
“Grace, put that away!” I waved my hand. “Put it away!”
I started towards her again, but pain shot from my feet all the way up through my body. I dropped to my knees.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she shouted at me, keeping an eye on the crowd that shuffled amongst itself, preparing their moves.
I struggled to my feet and staggered towards her. I just needed to grab her, drag her away from the gasoline and Molotov cocktails, get her the hell out of here before she got herself killed.
She held up the flame, staring at me. “What—”
I stumbled forward.
A cry rose up from the crowd as they surged towards her, weapons raised. They hit the killing field and flowed right into her trap.
She put out her free hand and bent to lower the flame to the first Molotov cocktail.
I wasn’t going to make it in time.
“Gracie, stop! You’re not a witch!”
The words ripped out of me with agonizing pain. I didn’t mean to take away the one part of her that made her feel strong enough to keep going. I didn’t want to tear off the tape that held her together.
But she could not light that trap.
She hesitated, just far enough from the gasoline nothing lit—yet.
“I’m sorry, but you’re not. You must know that. Please believe me. Don’t light it. Don’t light it. Please, oh god, don’t light it.” Words gushed from me, despair underscoring every one of them.
The town closed in. Gracie slowly turned her head to me, and her eyes glistened with hurt and tears.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
She looked at her outstretched hand, then raised her gaze to the blood-hungry crowd nearly on top of her.
Fear overcame her expression. Then she turned and bolted.
I charged after her, the town right behind us. They screamed and shouted obscenities as I joined Gracie. I grabbed her bicep and led her back towards town. She kept running without a word, but tears streamed down her face.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” I murmured over and over, though I had no idea if she could even hear me over the chaos behind us.
We scrambled over the rocky incline and kept going. Stones clattered behind us as the crowd came up over the rise.
I veered us towards the woods. We slipped on the remaining snow and ice but kept going, racing through the trees as if we knew them like home. I tried not to think of what had become of my brother. Had he managed to escape? Had he frozen to death out there?
Grace and I kept running. We stuck to the trees. Even though the townspeople pursued, they couldn’t quite catch up.
The woods wrapped around the edge of town until it met the hill where the church had been. We darted out from cover and kept going. The remains of the church laid in a heap right where it had fallen. Demons prowled in the shadows, but they seemed uninterested in us as we passed by them.
We took the backside of the hill since the front had been divided from the town by the appearance of the ravine. Then we found ourselves in the woods again, this time on the other side of town. If we headed to our left, we would come out in the field across from Honey and Hive where the Feast had been held.
That meant we were only a short distance from the river.
“There’s nothing to see here,” Gracie said, breathless. “If we’re not careful, the forest will shift.”
“Just follow me,” I said, but I didn’t answer farther. As long as we veered inwards as we headed towards the water, we should—I hoped—miss triggering the forest.
The river appeared through the trees. No knives this time, just flowing cold water. It should have been frozen over in this weather—I’d lived in the cold long enough to be certain of that—but it flowed along like a warm summer day.
I grabbed Gracie’s hand and plunged into the water. She stumbled in after me and braced herself against my back.
The river bubbled up in rapids, and the water level began to rise. I looked down the river, in the direction back towards town. There was no accounting for the sudden change, yet the river rose to our knees, then thighs, before submerging us to our waists.
The sky flashed, and I tipped my head back to watch as deep red clouds rolled over the barely-lightening dawn. The clouds folded in on themselves, thickening, churning until they achieved the color of fresh blood.
The water surrounding us reflected the color. It wasn’t until a distinct metallic scent wafted through the air that I realized it wasn’t a reflection.
The river had turned to blood.
“We should go,” Grace said, panic in her voice. “I don’t know what happens next, Mac. We’re not supposed to be here when it’s not the Feast.”
I squeezed her hand submerged below the blood as the river rose towards our chest. “That’s why we have to do this. We have to see what’s beyond the river.”
Grace stared horror struck as the water churned darker red.
Then, together, hand in hand, we trudged down river towards the strange insignia on the map—and the truth.
22
GRACE
I waded down the river, reaching out one arm to grab onto Mac when I lost my footing. The blood water rose to my chest, and I swam short distances through the rapids. Blood touched my lips, filling my head with the metallic taste.
All those years of bloodletting into the river during the Feast had coalesced.
