Page 77 of The Neighborhood Ghost

“Leave it. I’ll hit them; you blast them.” He turned, ready to run.

“Hugo, wait,” Alice said with a crack in her voice. She pulled on his arm, preventing him from taking off. “I have to tell you something.”

He turned back to face her.

“I had to give up something to the ferryman to get here. It was either my soul or something else.”

Hugo’s mouth dropped open as if he already knew the answer. “What did you give up?”

“My magick.”

Hugo was silent. His eyes locked onto Alice. Her eyes watered until a solitary tear streaked down her face. She bowed her head. Hugo could imagine how painful it was for her to give up a part of herself, let alone the thing which brought them together. He cupped her chin with his hand and used his thumb to wipe away the tear.

“Hey,” Hugo said as he lifted her chin so their eyes could meet once more. “We’ll be okay. I’ve always loved you for who you are and not what you could do. You’re a badass witch who is willing to take on an army of the undead without your magick.”

Alice smiled, and with a soft voice said, “Thank you.”

The wails of the banshee’s ghouls grew closer.

“Alright. No time to dwell on it now. We have to go. Hit anything if it approaches you.”

“It’s a line brawl,” Alice said with a Cheshirish grin.

Hugo smiled. “It’s a line brawl.”

The two lovers took off running, hand in hand.

Chapter 24

No Escape

The witch and vampire of Newbury Grove darted through the nightmarish landscape. They ran in and around houses, holding hands, never letting go. A love transcendent of death itself. They ran for their freedom. They ran for their escape. They ran for each other.

They encountered the occasional pack of ghouls shambling their way toward them. The eerie, unrelenting march of those who had succumbed to the banshee’s wail. Their faces sunken and painted to appear like a skeleton mask—white faces with black rings around their eyes. They marched, unrelenting, unthinking, unstoppably toward the lovers as they made their escape.

A few twists and turns led them right into the direct path with a pack of the ghouls. Armed with a broomstick and hockey stick, they fought back together. They fought as one. Hugo struck at the ghouls with his black graphite stick. His hook like blade slashed down across their faces, knocking the ghouls to the ground. He spun, following the momentum and struck at another with the taped knob end of the hockey stick. One by one, they fell.

Alice jabbed at the ghouls in the face with the broomcorn, knocking them off balance. She spun the handle around and struck a mighty blow to their heads with the broom handle. The two fought side by side, back-to-back, and were unstoppable. No magick. No reinforcements. Only the sheer willpower of the pair fighting for each other.

The dock was in sight. They made their way out from the houses and sprinted across the open field. The ghouls followed them. The rider emerged from behind the houses. The fiery snorts of the festering black horse led the charge of the banshee’s army in pursuit of the two lovers. The black carriage, driven by the headless rider, emerged around the corner of the cobblestone path—all in pursuit of Hugo and Alice.

The thunder crashed, and the skies roared. The three knocks were so rapid, it was hard to tell where one ended and the next began. The wails of the banshee’s army nearly drowned out all other sounds as they approached the decaying dock.

Hugo and Alice sprinted across the landing. There was no sign of the ferryman or his boat, only the inky black darkness of the cave on the other side of the lagoon. Their feet thundered across the grayish, wooden planks. They stopped at the end to catch their breaths. Hugo’s legs and body burned. He didn’t know how much more running and fighting he could do. Thankfully, he was near the end.

“How did you call the ferryman?” Hugo asked, taking breaths between words.

Alice bent over, hands on her knees. “It was a bell,” she said, struggling for air. “How do you contact him here?”

“We don’t,” Hugo replied as he stood. “He randomly shows up.”

“What do we do?”

“We can’t swim to him. There’s something in the water.” Hugo scanned the surroundings for any sign of hope, but hefound none. “We’re stuck. We came this far, and now we’re stuck.”

“Hugo, what do we do?”

They both stared out to the open cavern. Hoping. Waiting. Nothing came. They were alone. Trapped with no escape.

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