Something Strange and Deadly (Something Strange and Deadly #1)(85)

He rose and dusted off his hands. “I... well, I’m sorry, El.”

I gulped. “For what?”

“I’m failing at my task. If you’re here to see Father then you’ll be disappointed.”

I clambered to my feet. “You can’t bring him back?”

“No.”

“Then don’t. It’s...” I reached for his sleeve. “It’s all right to stop.”

“No, it’s not.” He hunched over and pressed his palms to his eyes. “Over and over again I’ve tried, but Father’s spirit won’t answer my call. It’s as if... as if there’s something in my way. Something in the spirit realm that blocks him.”

“So leave it and come home. Please. Mama and I need you.” I tilted his chin to look at me. “We’re out of money, Elijah. Almost all of it is gone, and we need you.”

He jerked away from me. “Money won’t be a problem. I’ll go back to Egypt. I’ll resurrect the Black Pullet, and we’ll live in wealth for the rest of our days. Everything will be all right. But first, El, I need to bring Father back.”

“Please don’t!” I cried. “Please come home. I need you! If you stop now, we can go home and pretend none of this ever happened. We can climb the tree, read Shakespeare, and—”

“Listen to yourself.” His face scrunched up. “We can’t go back. Things will never be—can never be like they were. I’m not the weakling who left town, and you’re not the little girl I left behind.”

My breathing turned shallow and fast. I clenched his filthy sleeve in my fist. “Then we’ll leave. We’ll go abroad and see the world.”

He nodded slowly. “Yes, but first Father must see what I have done. What I’ve accomplished. Nothing stands in his way now! He can run for city council and do all the things he dreamed of.” Elijah took my hand in his. “He always said, ‘We must show them.’ Well, I have. None of those Gas Ring devils will ever trouble him or me again.”

And that was when it hit me. The full weight of the situation careened back into my mind and my heart. My brother was insane. An army of decayed corpses surrounded me, and the wasted body of my father lay only a few feet away. Elijah had killed men—killed Clarence!—with no remorse, and I knew he would do it again. He was the devil here, not the Gas Ring.

And I was here to stop him, not to save him.

I licked my cracked lips. “You have to stop,” I said with all the authority I could muster. “Now.”

He scowled and stomped to the edge of the open grave. “I’m so close, El, I won’t turn back. It’s that damn spirit,” he growled. “It keeps releasing my army from my control. Whatever it is, it knows necromancy, and it knows it better than I do.” His eyes fixed on mine, their blue depths murky. “One by one, it releases them from my control, so they turn into those...” He waved in the direction from which I’d come. “Into those crazy, desperate Hungry Dead.”

“Then why keep trying?” I stalked toward him. “Give up! Lay the Dead to rest and—”

At that moment thunder boomed. It rattled the earth, and my knees shook. It was one of the pulse bombs.

Elijah lunged at me. “What was that?” He gripped my shirt and heaved me toward his face. “The Spirit-Hunters are here, aren’t they? You betrayed me.” The edge of his lips twisted up. “Well, there’s no escape for them. Not today.” He shoved hard, and I tumbled to the earth.

Elijah twirled around to his army. With his arms thrust high, he chanted words I didn’t understand or recognize.

The rows of Dead lurched to a start. Ancient feet scuffed and bones creaked, and in seconds the army was shambling away. Toward the river. Toward the Spirit-Hunters.

I heaved myself to my feet but didn’t speak. What could I say? Reason would not work, nor would begging. My best option was to stick to my plan.

Elijah snatched me by the shoulder and dragged me to Father’s grave. “You’re going to help me raise Father.”

“No.”

He scoffed. “You have very little choice in the matter. I carry the power to raise the Dead, which means you do too. And it’s about time you shared.”

“Wh-what do you mean I hold the power?” I demanded.

He didn’t answer. He just clamped his hands on my shoulders and pivoted me toward the grave.

I balked at the sight before me. The lid to Father’s dark mahogany coffin had been shoved partly off, leaving the top half of his body exposed. Other than the tattered black suit, I could see nothing in this skeleton that resembled the man I had loved.

“The power to reach the Dead—it’s a special skill that only a select few have.” Elijah dug his nails into my arms. “And oftentimes it runs in a family. It runs in a person’s blood. Can’t you feel it?”

An electric tingle whipped through my body, and as before at the library, I found my muscles locked in place. Behind me Elijah chanted. The current was not strong—it merely tickled and made me want to scratch my insides—yet I could not move or resist it.

A minute of Elijah’s murmurs passed. Then he let go, and I stumbled and fell next to the grave. He jostled me aside.

“We did it, El! Look! We did it!” He leaped into the hole.