Page 31 of Haunted Heart
Jaw unhinged, she lunges for him. He backpedals.
One step.
Two steps.
On the third, he turns to run, and crashes through the banister instead, grasping, falling…
The boards in the foyer splinter and crack as he slams into them—slamsthroughthem.
I go to look over the edge, and Julia wraps her arms around me, holding me back from falling too.
“You can leave him here, or you can take him back. But he will try to attack you again if you leave him long enough.”
“Will he attack me in the living world too?”
“I can’t speak for the living.”
And I can’t abandon him to Hell… even if I might want to right now.
I hurry down the stairs and past the hole in the floor.
I don’t stop until I catch myself against the post that holds up the well’s restored roof. Jonas is still down there, but he’s taken hold of the chain and is using it to climb back up.
“You okay?” I ask.
“I don’t know how to answer that.” His foot slips on the wall, and he manages to catch himself. “Are you?”
“Yeah.” I might not be, but it’s an innocent lie. “Let’s get you out of there and then let’sallget out of here.
When he reaches the top, I help pull him the rest of the way out.
He hits the ground with a “EUGH” and I rip the links out of the rock they had buried themselves into.
“If I unchain you, are you going to try to run away?”
“Not a chance. I want to get out of here.”
“Good. We need these for Dylan.” I unbolt the chain around his waist and pull it free. “And I need your help.”
FOURTEEN
I don’t wantto jump down, but we don’t have to. The cellar door isn’t locked here.
It opens like the hinges are brand new, and the eerie light filtering down shows Dylan, sitting in the dirt, weaving like he’s drunk.
I don’t waste time. Jonas doesn’t hesitate to help me.
I’ve never been in the cellar in the living world. I don’t know what’s different about this version of it. But I do know that Dylan shouldn’t be here, and I am not going to let him stay any longer than I have to.
I start to drag him back up the steps, but Jonas pauses. “What is that?”
In the dirt, in a pile of ash, a heart glows bright. A molten red shimmering beneath the cracked and brittle crust of burned muscle.
“That is Julia’s, don’t touch it.”
He looks up at me, unblinking, but he nods, and follows me back up.
The floor in the foyer is fixed when we come back around, and as if seeing the fully intact floor wakes him up, Dylan starts to struggle.
