Page 48 of Into the Dark

“Weak. Bleeding. Took too much out. Tried to escape. Put me here. So cold.”

“Took too much out?” Oscar asked, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“So cold.”Her voice sounded quieter now, even though he hadn’t touched the volume on the spirit box.“So cold.”

Maybe she was getting weaker. He crouched by the tub, holding the spirit box out over the water in hopes it would take less effort on her part if it was closer to where she’d died. “Can you tell me?—”

A pale hand erupted out of the dark water and wrapped around his wrist. Before he could so much as cry out, it yanked him down, into the freezing tub.

CHAPTER

EIGHTEEN

Oscar’s lungsspasmed as the spirit pulled his arm, head, and shoulders beneath the water of her tub. The liquid was like ice, instantly sucking away even the memory of warmth. The dead hand clenching his wrist felt like an iron manacle, dragging him down.

He flailed—his fingers should be touching the bottom of the tub, but there was nothing, as if he was being pulled into a deep well. The last of his breath left in a stream of bubbles; he tried to brace his body against the edge of the tub, but she was too strong.

She was going to pull him down into whatever terrible underworld she inhabited, without light or air, and keep him there forever.

Hands gripped the collar of his shirt, hauling him back. For a moment, he was caught in a life-or-death tug-of-war, fragile living hands versus the implacable strength of the dead.

Then suddenly, the grip around his wrist disappeared. He was wrenched back out of the tub, and went sprawling back, freezing water sloshing everywhere. The cold bit into him, so deep the cool spring air he drew into his lungs felt fiery with its heat.

“Oscar! Oscar, are you all right?” Nigel yelled, practically into his ear.

He managed to nod, even as he took in a couple more heaving breaths. Rolling onto his side, he wiped water from his eyes.

Nigel crouched beside him, face pale and hands shaking with fear. Chris stood by the tub, camera discarded on the ground and an empty container of salt in their hands, upended over the tub.

Oscar swallowed hard. “G-Good thinking, Chris,” he chattered.

“We need to get the hell out of here,” Nigel said. “Can you stand?”

Oscar managed a sitting position. Thankfully, warmth was already returning to his limbs. “I think so.”

Chris backed slowly away from the tub. “Guys? Look at this.”

Oscar started to use the edge of the tub to lever himself up, then thought better of it. Stumbling to his feet, he looked down into it.

There was no water, only a rusty stain beneath the tap, and a blanket of salt crystals on the bottom. The dropped spirit box lay near the drain. His clothes were dry as well, as was his skin.

He’d just wiped water from his eyes…except the water didn’t exist, at least not on the physical plane.

“We need to go,” Nigel repeated. “We’ll regroup in the tent, and?—”

The walkie-talkie burst into life on Oscar’s belt. “Guys?” Tina said. “Adrienne and Zeek are in trouble!”

Nigel pulled it free before Oscar’s numb fingers could reach it. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re trapped in one of the seclusion cells!”

“Tell her to tell them we’ll be right there,” Oscar said, starting for the doorway.

“You need to go—” Nigel began, but Oscar cut him off.

“We need to help them! Tell her!”

He heard Nigel talking, but he was already out of the door and running for the stairs. What the hell was going on here? Removing the nurse was supposed to decrease the danger they were in, but instead everything was going wrong.

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