Something Strange and Deadly (Something Strange and Deadly #1)(83)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

With barely a splash, the oar slid from the Schuylkill’s water. Each of Daniel’s sure strokes in the stolen rowboat brought the Spirit-Hunters and me through the morning fog and closer to the cemetery’s steep, rocky hillside.s

Jie and Daniel had commandeered the boat downstream—south near the Girard Avenue Bridge—where simple boats such as this were rented out for pleasure-fishing. We needed the water to magnify Joseph’s powers, and we needed the boat to carry the influence machine. If all went according to my plan, we’d end this war today, in this river.

None of us spoke. I sat at the front and imagined the plan over and over. The influence machine was behind me at the boat’s center. Its hulking form was as high as my knees, and it was covered with Daniel’s coat to protect it from the water. Next to it was a bag of the remaining pulse bombs.

Jie held her sword, and her head swiveled all about. Joseph held his head in hands. His lips moved, and I thought he might be praying.

Behind him were two sturdy tree branches, stripped of leaves and bark—one for Joseph, one for Daniel. Weak defense against savage corpses, yet the best we could do.

When we reached the riverbank, Daniel hopped out and dragged us onto the narrow strip of silty shore. I clambered out and glanced around. My palms were slick with nervous sweat, and I wiped them over and over again on my trousers.

The orange glow of morning hung low on the horizon, and the new light made new shadows. I was scared of those shadows.

“I cannot sense the Dead,” Joseph whispered. “But soon the Hungry will sense us.”

These were the only words spoken before we toiled up the hill. It wasn’t a long slope—fifty feet at most—but it was steep and treacherous, with jagged boulders and loose pebbles.

We crested the ridge and reached the forest edge that marked the beginning of the cemetery grounds. A corpse burst from the trees. Its clothes and skin had rotted away long ago, and all that remained was bone and gristle. In moments it was on me—not even giving me time to panic—with its teeth chomping at me faster than I could flee. I staggered back, lifting my hands instinctively to cover my face.

With a crack, the chomping stopped. I lowered my hands to find the skull snapped to the side and detached from the spine. Another crack, and the skeleton’s knees crunched, and the monster toppled to the ground. Daniel stood behind it, the branch in his hand and his chest heaving.

I stared in sick fascination. The headless skeleton dug its fingers into the earth and dragged its crippled frame toward me. How could it still move? Truly, the only way to stop these corpses was by stopping the energy that animated them or by annihilating the bodies.

Two more Dead crashed from the brush. Jie and Joseph tackled them head on.

“Run!” Daniel yelled at me. “You have to go now—I’ll follow!” He whirled around, and with a loping gate, he dashed to meet the nearest corpse.

Yes. I had to go now. That was my job: to reach Elijah before the Dead reached me.

I bolted from the battle and into the tiny strip of forest. Briars and brambles clawed at me, but I barreled through. The Dead could be anywhere, and speed was a safer option than silence.

In seconds I reached the last tree in the forest fringe and stumbled onto a cemetery plot. A tombstone loomed beside a gaping hole. What had once been a grassy mound was now a pile of disrupted soil and casket splinters.

I scanned the view before me. I had visited Laurel Hill many times over the last six years, and I knew its winding paths well. Yet, for a panicky moment, nothing looked familiar. All the trees, monuments, and open graves looked the same.

Then there—to my right, I saw the carriageway I needed. Relief flashed through me, and with a long, steeling breath, I clenched my fists and set off toward the path—toward where I knew Elijah would be: our father’s grave.

The sun was coming up faster now, and its beams pierced the sky and layered the cemetery in thick shadows. I spun my head side to side, constantly searching for movement. Every grave I passed was open. As Clarence had said all those days ago, I hear all the corpses in Laurel Hill have come to life.

Then I heard a distant pounding. Unnaturally quick feet. I spun about until I spotted to my left and down another path the rapid, rolling stride of a Hungry. Still distant, but vicious and bounding toward me.

Panic exploded in my chest. I had no choice now but to run.

I pushed my feet as hard as the terrain and my body would let me—down dirt paths, across grassy plots, over empty graves, and around tombstones. Faster, Eleanor, faster. I had to get to Elijah. I had to get away!

The corpse was gaining ground.

I leaped over red zinnias and raced onto a crowded expanse of tombstones. The corpse was so close now I could hear its bones scraping and its teeth gnashing.

God, I wasn’t ready to die. In a flash of awareness, I understood Clarence’s wild determination to live. It’s one thing to fear death, but it’s another to fear the Dead.

I reached a marble tombstone topped with an angel. Straight beyond it would lead me to Elijah. I had to get around the damn thing, and that meant I would have to slow.

I hope there’s an open grave on the other side.

I aimed my stride for the right edge of the tombstone’s marble base. When I reached its corner, I skidded around. Once on the other side, I bolted left. I was directly in front of the tombstone now, and the hole I’d hoped for gaped before me.