The Hollows(78)

They each held a cup in their hands. Greg sniffed at the liquid and wrinkled his nose.

‘Are you sure about this?’ he asked. ‘It’s not going to make us sick?’

‘Of course I’m sure,’ Carl replied. ‘Abigail gave me the recipe herself.’

She had directed him to it, tucked inside the book A Sacred Space. They all knew that Abigail had often come into the woods alone, to meditate and commune with the spirits of the forest. They had stumbled across her once, when she was in the middle of one of these vision quests. She had been wild-eyed and spaced out. She had hugged all of them and Carl had noticed how her pupils covered almost her entire eyes. It had been kind of frightening to see her like that, sweat beading her brow, her mouth a little slack. The way she kept staring at things they couldn’t see. Later, she told them she had taken a potion that she had cooked up herself, made from flowers and plants she had picked in the woods. Herbs and berries that were easy enough to find, though it had taken Carl all morning to gather them.

‘What’s in it?’ Nikki asked.

‘That doesn’t matter. Just drink it.’

Nikki and Greg exchanged a glance. ‘I’m not sure,’ Greg said.

Carl wanted to force it down their throats. ‘Listen,’ he said. ‘You want the campers gone, don’t you? You want Abigail’s spirit to be happy?’

‘Of course we do,’ said Nikki.

‘Then drink. This is the first part of the ritual.’

Greg sniffed at his cup again. ‘Can’t we just, like, smoke some weed or something?’

‘No! It has to be this if we want the ritual to work.’

He hadn’t told them exactly what the ritual involved, just that Abigail would guide them. He hadn’t told them about the teachers or any of the rest of it. He knew they would freak out, refuse to take part. They had to be led to it, so that when they got there they felt like they had no choice but to take part. That it was a joint idea.

The potion was part of that. Maybe he could have got them drunk or given them weed, but he didn’t think either of those things would be intoxicating – transporting – enough.

This will be perfect, Abigail had said. And if anyone knew, she did.

‘Drink,’ he said again, and he raised his own cup to his lips. It was lukewarm and bitter, even though he had added sugar to make it go down easier.

‘Gross,’ Greg said, after he’d downed it.

‘Come on, Nikki,’ Carl urged. ‘Please.’

She looked into the cup again. Then she sighed, shrugged and tipped the liquid down her throat.

‘So gross,’ she said, and that made her and Greg giggle.

‘Do you think we’ll see visions like Abigail did?’ Greg asked. ‘Spirits?’ He seemed equally frightened and excited.

‘Abigail said the spirits will guide us and show us what to do,’ replied Carl. He checked his watch. It was time. ‘Now, come on. Let’s go. Don’t forget your masks.’

They walked in silence, away from the lake and into the woods. It was even darker here beneath the canopy of trees, but Carl found he had no trouble following the path.

‘This is freaky,’ Nikki said. ‘But it’s like I can see in the dark. Like I actually am a fox.’

‘Me too,’ said Greg.

‘It’s the potion,’ Carl said. It was actually working.

‘Do you feel anything?’ Nikki asked.

Greg replied that he wasn’t sure and Carl wondered too. And then, like a rush, he felt it. A light-headedness. A strange taste in his mouth. At the same time, his vision sharpened further and then – whoa. The trees appeared to be glowing.

‘Can you see that?’ Nikki asked, reaching out to touch a tree.

‘That’s awesome,’ breathed Greg.

Carl looked down at his feet, at the path, and saw the ground shifting, pine needles squirming like bugs, and he felt branches reaching towards him – not threatening, but like they were trying to touch him, to stroke him.

‘I think I’m going to be sick,’ said Nikki. She had stopped and was leaning against a tree. ‘Everything’s swimming. I don’t like it.’

Carl stared at her, trying to think straight. She was smaller than him and a lot smaller than Greg. Maybe he should have given her a smaller dose. He hadn’t thought about body mass and all that.

‘I don’t like it,’ Nikki repeated. Her voice sounded like it was coming to him through a long, dark tunnel. Beside Nikki, Greg was motionless, as if he’d forgotten how to walk. Both he and Nikki turned their faces towards Carl and their pupils were like Abigail’s had been. Vast. Black. It was like staring into the void, into a pit. Carl shivered and his heart plunged, his stomach cold, and he felt a terrible foreboding, like he had made a huge mistake, unleashed something he didn’t understand and couldn’t control.

It’s okay, Abigail whispered in his ear. It will be okay. Just wait.

She calmed him. Quelled the panic.

‘I want to go home,’ Nikki said. ‘I don’t . . . Oh Jesus, what’s that?’

Carl followed her gaze. She was staring into the trees, a look of enrapt wonder on her face.

‘Oh,’ she said, her voice breathy. ‘Oh.’

‘What is it?’ Greg asked. His voice had turned thick and deep, like he was a bear that had learned to talk, and Carl wasn’t sure if it was an auditory hallucination or if Greg really did sound like that now.