Luminosity (Gravity Series #3) (The Gravity Series) Page 10

  I heard a noise below, like a door pulling shut. I glanced over the side of the stairwell.

  “Did you hear that?” I asked.

  “No, I didn’t hear anything.”

  I frowned, but dismissed the sound as my own mounting paranoia.

  We didn’t have much time together before the bell, so we parted ways. On the way back to class, I thought about his words. I knew he meant it completely when he said it was dangerous and that I shouldn’t go. But the relentless, unyielding tug inside me told me it didn’t matter. As much as I hated it, I would have to lie to him. I couldn’t ignore Dexter’s pull. Even though I hadn’t used the word promise, it felt like that was exactly what I was about to break.

  ###

  I told myself that I would be endlessly careful and take every precaution so that nothing would fall back on Henry. There was no turning back now.

  The necklace had been a gift to me from my mother and had belonged to my psychic grandmother, Eleanor. I’d lost it during our seance. I’d passed out, having what everyone else thought was a seizure. What it truly was I couldn’t remember.

  My Aunt Corinne, who was book smart about spirits but had no real ability, told me that the necklace might be a powerful tool in spirit communication. But I didn’t really get why or what it did.

  Jenna and I carefully made our way down Sanitorium Road towards the orphanage. I’d already parked my car in a hidden driveway. As we got closer, I picked up a small armload of hefty rocks. The cameras had to go first.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, watching me and wrinkling her nose. Her skin gave off luminescence in the dark, making her other-worldliness more obvious.

  “Making this easier,” I told her.

  The iron gate came into view and I slowed my steps. There were two cameras that I could see, oscillating on top of the fence. Red lights flashed like beacons in the dark.

  I held the rocks in my hoodie with one arm, and I shut one eye to try and improve my weak aim. Jenna chuckled beside me. I chucked one of the rocks at the closest camera. The rock flew inches away from its intended target. Undaunted, I lobbed a few more rocks. Missed.

  “You suck at this,” Jenna observed.

  “Bite me,” I said, sweat breaking out on my face.

  I moved a step closer and tried again. The last rock hit the camera square on, and it fell to the ground with a satisfying crash. I smiled.

  “One down, one to go,” I muttered under my breath.

  The second camera wasn’t as difficult. I hit it directly with the second rock I threw. I looked around for more cameras, but I didn’t see any sign of additional surveillance. I couldn’t be too sure, though, so I flipped my sweatshirt hood over my ponytail so I was as covered and shadowed as possible.

  Jenna and I stood in front of the gate, staring up at Dexter. In real life, the orphanage was a sorry wreck, blackened with fire damage and soot at the top. Despite that, it still stood large and intimidating. I felt a surge of energy gazing upon it.

  “I can’t stay away,” I said, mostly to myself.

  Rubbing her arms like she was cold, Jenna swept her eyes around. She took a step forward. “Where is the shed?”

  I looked at her in concern but didn’t let her see. I pointed through the gate’s bars to the left of the house. “The paper said it was destroyed by the fire. But it used to be over there. You don’t remember?”

  “I was disoriented that night. I think I had something over my head.”

  The large steel lock and chain to which Phillip’s key fit held the gate in place. I grabbed onto it, giving it a useless tug.

  “Maybe this isn’t the best time to do this,” Jenna said. “After all, it’s nighttime, and no one else is here.…”

  I looked over at my friend, who was shifting in her flip-flops. “Are you having second thoughts?”

  “I didn’t realize how creepy this place was going to be,” Jenna admitted.

  “It’s a haunted orphanage. What were you expecting, Disneyland?”

  “That is the Haunted Mansion, and yes, actually. I didn’t think that a haunted place would scare me since I could be a character there,” Jenna snapped. “This is something different, Ariel, it’s like a force.”

  She twirled towards me. “What if something happens to you?” There was anger in her voice, which just amped up my worry. “Did you tell anyone at all, anyone alive, that you were coming here?”

  I shook my head.

  “Henry had the right idea.” She thrust her pointer finger towards the building. “That roof looks like it’s ready to collapse!”

  I thought about the birds dying, about the wall that Alyssa had spoken of when she couldn’t go into school. Then I thought about the dog sitting patiently on his paws, waiting for me to find the necklace. “I’ll be extremely careful and I’ll get in and out as fast as possible. I have my phone if I need to call for help. I will be okay.”

  “You had better,” she said sternly. I hadn’t won her over completely, but she was relenting. “I don’t want you joining me in the afterlife; you’d make a lame ghost.”

  “I’d make an awesome ghost and you know it.” I gestured to my all-black outfit beneath my red checkered coat. “I’m already in tune with my Goth roots.”

  She rolled her eyes at me, but a phantom grin touched her lips. “How are you going to get in?”

  “The same way I assume Warwick did,” I said, pointing up towards the starry sky. “By going up.”

  Two horizontal bars ran the length of the fence, and I put my foot up on the bottom, testing its hold. When I was sure it would handle my weight, I hoisted myself up. It was a reach to get to the second bar, but I gripped it with my gloves and, gritting my teeth, yanked my body up to the top.

  Looking down at the dark ground, I fought off a swirl of vertigo. I’d been a pretty renowned tree climber in our neighborhood, but it had been a while since I’d left the ground.

  Don’t look down. Don’t look down.

  I flipped myself over the fence in one movement. My coat caught on one of the spikes lining the fence’s top, and then I was sliding down and my shoes hit the ground. I wobbled a bit but remained standing.

  I turned around, feeling a little proud and attempted to grin at Jenna. But her face had changed; she was staring through the bars at Dexter with a look of horror.

  I glanced back at the building but couldn’t make out any change. It just seemed to sit there, an empty, ugly husk. The glass had burst out of the windows in the top two rows, and crisscrossed wooden boards had been nailed over the frames.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked Jenna.

  She shook her head. “I can’t go in there. I can’t go back in there ever again.”

  Before I could ask her what was causing this sudden panic attack, she wrenched herself around and sprinted off down the road. I called her name, but she disappeared into the black air.

  I was seriously reconsidering this trip. I hadn’t thought I would be all alone. I’d felt a sense of safety thinking Jenna would be by my side. I assessed whether I should vault back over the fence. It wouldn’t be too hard.

  That’s when the dog began to bark.

  CHAPTER 11

  THE DARK INSIDE was stifling as I cracked the front door. My flashlight didn’t help, and neither did the boarded-up windows. I slid in, leaving the heavy door cracked. Taking little, mincing steps towards the center, I squinted around.

  I did not want to be here. My mind screamed at me to flee. This was my worst nightmare and I was walking right into it like a trap. I pulled out the phone—my back up plan. No service. It beeped as the battery warned of its imminent death. So much for keeping safe.

  The hallway appeared vaguely like the one in my dream, but there was nothing nice about it. No furniture or possessions; just a few boxes that looked like they were from the haunted house a long time ago.

  I passed down to the end of the hall and turned back over my shoulder. The door was still standing open, a gleaming
rectangle of alluring light.

  One last chance to forget all about this.

  It took every ounce of will power not to run away. But I was here.

  I smelled a whiff of wet dog, fading quickly, and that settled it. It was as though a finger made of smoke had appeared, beckoning me to come.

  I didn’t see much sign of fire damage down on this level, but it wasn’t easy to find my way. Unlike the dream, the interior wasn’t set up with merely one long hallway. That would have been too easy.

  There were all kinds of rooms, some wide and some short, some that seemed vaguely familiar and some not at all. They were connected to each other like sewer tunnels. The architect that had designed the place must have had some serious screws loose.

  I felt like something was creeping up on me. The feeling crawled across the back of my neck. I told myself it was just my nerves and kept walking.

  Scratches behind me. I whipped around, shining my flashlight. There was no one behind me, but the shadows were twitching again. I swallowed my squeal of fear. I hurried on and arrived at another short, twisty hallway.

  The building creaked and groaned around me. The stuffy air reeked of the scent of charred wood, choking me. Ashes and dust motes swirled thickly in the flashlight’s beam.

  I expected a ghost, the dog itself—anything—to jump out at me any second. It was a shade above pitch black and I had to fight my fear to keep moving. The room ahead of me was completely empty and narrow. Nothing looked familiar as I’d never been in this part of the house. I had no sense of direction, especially since the rooms had weird angles and seemed smaller than they should have been.

  I kept walking, nerves escalating to a fever pitch. I swung the flashlight left and right, breathing heavy in my ears. I started humming, then realized it was a bad idea. Below my feet, I could pick up the faint beating I had been expecting, the beating of Dexter’s infernal heart.

  I heard scurrying footsteps, but tried to tell myself it was my imagination again. A panic attack started to ripple through me, but I forced it away, breathing evenly.

  Dark creatures flew up around me and I shrieked, covering my hair and ducking down towards the floor. Wings flapped around me, too close and loud for comfort. The flashlight dropped out of my hand and rolled away.

  Birds. It sounded like birds.

  But the shrieks they emitted were higher pitched. I looked up and saw a group of flapping bats. They shot up towards the ceiling and flew off.

  Sweat broke out across my brow. This was stupid… so, so stupid. I fumbled around on the floor for the flashlight; the tumble had turned it off. Praying I hadn’t broken it or damaged the batteries, I wrapped my hand around the shaft and pulled it up. I flicked the switch and after a moment of flickering, the reassuring beam came back on.

  A figure ran past me on my right. My heart skipped a beat and I froze, turning my head that way. The room was one of the few I’d seen that looked packed, with some old furniture and a pile of cages. I recognized it from the haunted house tour. But I couldn’t see anyone. There was no way out other than coming right where I was.

  I didn’t want to call out, in case someone answered me back.

  I took a few careful steps. A figure rushed past on the other side. This time I knew I hadn’t imagined it. Whoever they were, they were closing in.

  I started to run, crashing into a hallway, praying that I could find some way out. Blood rushed through my ears and I felt like I might pass out. I’d completely lost my sense of direction. Around me the shadows warped and twisted, starting to take shape.

  I wished I’d told someone where I was. I wished I’d listened to Henry. The more driven I became, the more reckless I acted.

  Suddenly, I saw the dining room in front of me. Like in the dream, the wall had been broken through. A fireman’s ax lay on the floor.

  Maneuvering through the hole I stepped over chunks of plaster. I forced myself to calm down, the fear replaced by tentative excitement.

  Here the details of my dream were more relevant. It shocked me to see that the table had indeed been broken in half by a big chunk of wood that had tumbled from above. The chairs were still standing, though, tucked in neatly underneath the mutilated tabletop. I looked up at the high ceiling and saw the the bluish full moon shimmering through the jagged hole.

  There was a space on the wall that I hadn’t noticed before—a thick crack that ran up about six feet. I traced my finger down it, wondering if it had somehow come from the fire. Judging by the a clear, rectangular swath among the stains on the wall, something was missing from in front of the crack.

  I stopped in front of the fireplace. It was so large that the mantle went a foot over my head. Dexter’s portrait was still there, but it had been split in half right down the center. A shaft of moonlight caught Dexter’s painted eyes. There was something so cold and knowing in his look, like he knew I was trespassing. I shivered, rubbed my arms and tore my eyes away.

  Part of me expected to actually see the dog digging around in the rubble, but he was nowhere to be found. No spooky kids, either, which didn’t bother me one bit. The faster I could get out, the better. The nerves Jenna thought were made of steel had turned to Jell-O.

  I went to the corner and knelt down at a pile of ashes, stones and wood. I tried using my hands, but I hated the unnatural, gritty feel of the debris.

  Back at the table, I grabbed an old candelabra. Using the broken candle holders, I shoveled away as much of the debris as I could.

  I thought I heard a dog growl behind me. I stopped, turned around and stared into the dark. Nothing. I dug quicker, dirt flying everywhere. At the bottom was the green stone of Eleanor’s necklace. The silver chain was encrusted with dirt but all the links were still intact.

  I never thought I’d see it again. Theo had told me that I’d tossed it away during the seance. It looked remarkably unscathed for all the time it had spent beneath the rubble. The green stone stood out like a beacon, sparkling invitingly.

  It felt unreal to see it. I’d barely remembered what it looked like, but the memories all flooded back. One thing I hadn’t forgotten was the way it heated up. As I reached out tentatively to grab it, I paused. Heat was definitely emanating from the stone again. It burned the skin of my hand as I held it a foot away. Hot now—not merely warm—and pulsing like lava. Or a heart ripped freshly out of someone’s chest.

  “Ariel, you have the most gruesome mind,” I chastised myself.

  I wrapped my sleeve around my hand, reached out and grasped the pendant.

  Electricity shot from the tip of my finger up to my shoulder. Silver bolts danced in my eyes. My head began to float as my whole body shook. I felt myself being pulled through my own skin. My vision went black and then brilliant white as I felt my spirit careen through space.

  CHAPTER 12

  IN A FAIRYTALE, the deep, rich purple of the sky would have been beautiful. But in Dark, the violet sky looked like a sickness, an ugly pool of blood beneath damaged skin. I could barely stand to look at it, feeling it infect my sight and transform the world around me into funny colors.

  I was crouching on the ground, black dirt beneath my now bare feet. To my shock and horror, I noticed the white dress wrapped around me again. It was like an infestation that wouldn’t go away. The bottom was torn, but it was otherwise intact.

  I brought myself to my feet to get a better look at what I’d gotten myself into. It wasn’t good. Dexter was on fire in front of me, and I could see it better now that it wasn’t completely obscured by smoke.

  Figures screamed and writhed inside, barely visible through the blackened windows. I swallowed a horrified scream. They were already dead. I couldn’t save them.

  I ran to the gate and pushed it open. I didn’t know where I was going, but I had to get as far away from the orphanage in its native state as I could.

  The air was thick and it was hard to breathe, but I kept running down the road. My limbs were slow and heavy, but my fear forced my feet to p
ound the pavement. My feet didn’t register pain like they should have, but I didn’t stop to think about it. The tops of the dark trees were on fire, filling the air with choking smoke. It surrounded me like fog, obscuring darker shapes I didn’t want to see.

  When I finally came out past the trees, I saw lines of buildings that I didn’t quite recognize. There were familiar features, but nothing I could grasp on to. Nowhere felt safe. I stopped in the middle of the road and whirled around, desperately looking for a way out.

  I shut my eyes, trying to wish myself back home. This couldn’t be real. It had to be a nightmare. There’s no place like home.

  I opened my eyes and was staring back up at Dexter again. I was on the lawn like I’d never left. Two small children were standing calmly in front of me, wearing masks. Their clothes were tattered and stained, red scrapes marring their bony knees. The taller one was wearing a pig mask, the shorter one a rat. They were holding hands.

  Help us. The words jammed into my head like unwanted fingers.

  I took a step forward, but the orphans split and ran in different directions towards the back of the building. I felt a tapping on my back that snaked a chill up my spine.

  Turning around, I saw another child standing behind me wearing a black cat mask. The whiskers had been singed off. It was a little girl; she was wearing a tattered dress with a torn ribbon. Black eyes stared at me through the holes in the cat mask.

  There was something burning in those eyes, a raw intensity. Something inhuman and hateful. The children’s apparent innocence made me suspicious.

  Before I could react, the girl reached out and seized my hand. Her grip was powerful and unrelenting. While I protested, she pulled me with her and we ran across the lawn.

  She led me to the caretaker’s shed; in Dark it was still standing, although the roof was harshly crooked. We ran inside and she slammed the door shut. It was lit just enough so that we could look at each other, stepping back from the door and into the room.

  What have I gotten myself into?

  I was about to try to ask her what was going on, when I heard it—the shouts of the children outside. Scampering feet ran up and stopped outside the door. The knob began to turn.