Waves of fatigue washed over Raven, making it close to impossible to lift her head off the pillow. The Rake knelt by the bed and pawed at her, telling her that it was time to move. She felt his despair and knew he was correct.
Forcing herself up, she followed the creature out of the prison and down the path to the dock, where she saw the Nuckelavee laying on its side, front hooves pawing at the ground.
Raven forced herself to move, her legs muscles burning as she picked up the pace. “I’m coming.”
When she reached the beast, the rider was in the process of pulling himself free of the horse whose flesh he shared. He tore free with a snapping of tendons, grunting with the effort.
Raven reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, her other hand resting on the exposed flank of the horse, which was rising and falling slowly with each shallow breath.
“Leave us be, lass. We are dying,” the rider said in his thick Scottish brogue.
“Be still. Let me work.”
Placing a bony hand on Raven’s arm, the rider pulled her hand away from his mount. “It’ll not work.” He nodded towards the bay. “There is freshwater out there. It’s like poison flowing through our veins.”
“Damn you. Let me try.”
The rider pulled himself across the ground and lay across the body of the horse. “Save your strength, lass. You have done enough. We will die free. Better that than wastin’ away in some damnable prison.”
Raven moved back and watched as the rider whispered in the ear of his horse, his hand caressing her flank. They both stopped moving at the same time, their hearts stopping in unison.
She stood and raised her face to the sky, letting loose a scream that sent tremors through the concrete beneath her feet.
The Rake backed away in fear, head bowed in supplication.
Raven turned to face the creature, her eyes blazing with fury. “Bring the others to me, right now.”
She watched as the Rake sped away on all fours. When he disappeared from sight, she closed her eyes and reached out with her mind, hoping to connect with her daughter.
Where are you, child?
***
Salem awoke with a gasp, clutching at the bedsheets, which were damp with sweat. She looked around the dimply lit room, looking for the source of the voice that had pulled her out of a fitful sleep.
Lifting herself out of bed, she stepped into the small bathroom attached to her sleeping quarters and flicked on the overhead light. The single fluorescent light flickered as it came to life, filling the space with an incessant hum that sounded like a mosquito buzzing by her ear.
Salem rubbed her eyes and turned on the sink faucet with her mind. The cold water felt good as she splashed it on her face before cupping her hands and gulping down a mouthful.
“Where are you, child?”
With a start, Salem stepped away from the sink and stared into the mirror that sat above it, expecting to see someone standing behind her. There was no one there.
Flicking off the light, Salem sat on the toilet seat and closed her eyes, embracing the dark. “I am here.”
“I hear you. Are you safe?”
Salem tapped the heel of her hand against the side of her head, trying to pull herself free from the final stages of sleep.
“Rebecca?”
“Mother?”
“Yes. Are you safe?”
“I’m not sure. These people are not to be trusted, but I think they fear me.”
Salem jumped at the sound of thumping on her door. “Is everything alright in there?”
“What?”
The guard rattled the door handle, looking to get inside. “I hear voices,” he said, as he struggled with the lock that Salem was keeping in place.
“I’m fine. I had a nightmare.”
The rattling stopped, and things went still again.
“If they are with Thorn, they are not your friends.”
“I…”
“I can hear your thoughts, child. Speak to me in your mind.”
Moving back to her bed, Salem laid down and placed her arm over her eyes. “Can you still hear me?”
“I can, and I can feel your fear. I am coming for you. I just need a moment a day or two to rest. They will not know what hit them.”
Salem sat up straight, heart thudding in her chest. “They are coming for you. They know where you are.”
There was a moment of silence that seemed suddenly deafening.
“Mother.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
“Rebecca, you cannot come with them.”
“I don’t have a choice. They have my boyfriend. I need to play along until I know he is safe.”
Silence again.
“I’ll be ready.”
Salem felt pressure at her temples for a split second as the connection to her mother closed. She rose and moved to the door, throwing it open, and stepping out into the corridor. The guards dropped to their knees, weapons pointed in her direction.
“Put those away.” Salem nonchalantly flicked her hand, sending the guns skittering down the hallway. “Tell your boss I need to have a chat.”
***
Spencer Thorn sat in his electric wheelchair and stared out his office window, seeing nothing but a swirling mass of dense fog. “It’s bad enough she got out, but now that bitch has ruined my view,” he muttered.
“What was that, sir?” Drake asked.
Wheeling around to face Drake, Thorn waved a dismissive hand. “Nothing. Tell me more about the blocking device our little geniuses developed.”
Drake placed a plastic box that looked like a wireless earbud charger on the desk and pushed it across to the billionaire. “It’s in there.”
Thorn opened the case and lifted out the circular device, holding it up for closer inspection. “So, you’re telling me that you tried this and that it works?”
Drake nodded. “I told her that Selina and Craig were dead. We all felt her fishing around in our heads, but she got nothing.”
“Magnificent. I’m assuming there are enough for all of us making the trip?”
The idea of telling his boss that this was not a babysitting mission crossed his mind, but instead, Drake played the dutiful soldier. “Of course, sir.”
A knock on the office door interrupted the conversation.
“Enter,” Thorn called out.
One of the guards chosen to look after Salem stepped into the office, his eyes darting around nervously.
Drake rose from his seat and yelled at the guard, “Why are you away from your post? And where the hell is your weapon.”
“Sh-she removed it, sir.”
“Explain yourself,” Drake demanded.
“The witch. She took away our weapons without laying a hand on us.”
“Where is she now?” Drake asked, unholstering his sidearm.
“In her room. She is demanding to speak to Mr. Thorn.”
The billionaire wheeled himself out from behind his desk and pulled up beside Drake. He placed the metallic device in his ear and said, “Looks like I’m going to get to test this thing myself.”
Thorn needs to get it just for the Nuckelavee. Never thought I would cry over a skinless horse monster. I love it.
Great read!