Smiling, I gestured behind me at the sand. “This beach meets the foundation of the boardwalk right here. Crawl up onto the rail and I’ll lift you over.”
He glanced up at the top of the railing, then down to the hole like he was trying to decide if he could slide through. I was pretty sure he could. It wasn’t as narrow as he seemed to think it was.
“Okay.” He licked his lips again, then nodded. “I’m going to try to come through there.”
I nodded my approval. “And I’ll still catch you.”
He blew out a breath and hesitated, but then we both heard the voice. It was louder than before, close enough to hear the sneering anger in the person’s tone. We exchanged a knowing look. This was what we’d been gifted for, and we needed to get down there pronto. Sky turned to the side and wedged himself through. Reaching up, I gripped him around the waist, pulling him out and dragging him down my body until his feet found purchase.
He smirked up at me. “Way to cop a feel.”
I waggled my eyebrows playfully. Then we heard a keening wail and took off running, stopping as we reached the mouth of the pitch-black tunnel.
“What do we do?” Sky asked.
“Call for Patchy. He’s given us swords and a picnic, surely he can manifest a flashlight.”
Sky’s face looked pained as he called, “Patchy.” The patchwork puppy appeared in his arms instantly. Sky nuzzled him, mumbling apologies into the psychopomp’s hair for not calling him sooner.
“Youuuuu…you filthy human. Soooooo…dirty. Sooooo..alone. Soooo…broken,” a voice in the most malicious tone I’d ever heard said. “Youuuuu…are nothing. Youuuu…are evil. Unwooorthy…human.”
“What the hell?” Sky mumbled. “Who could be so mean?”
I shook my head, listening as the cruel taunting continued.
“Patchy, we need a flashlight, please.”
I quickly closed my hand around the heavy weight of a metal cylinder as it hit my hand. Finding the switch, I pointed the beam of light that issued out of it down at the ground, doing my best to hide our approach from the attacking spooky until we got there.
“Patchy, sword.”
The psychopomp puppy peered up at his owner like he was confused. Which in turn made Sky’s head tilt as he stared back down at him like he didn’t understand why he was confused that he’d requested the same weapon we’d been using. “Patchy—go on, boy.”
The sword appeared in my other hand, and I switched them, so I’d be ready for combat. “Ready?” I asked.
“Leave me alone. Please,” came an anguished plea of a young man from deeper in the tunnel.
Sky and I nodded at each other, then, hugging the wall of the enclosure, slipped in to help this person with their nightmare. It didn’t escape my attention that this man—much like the baby—must be in tune with their spirit if they knew they were being tortured. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“Soooo…worthless. Stoooopid…boy. Nooooo…one loves you. Noooo…one wants you. Your parents hate yooooou. Stoooopid…worthless boy.”
“What an asshole,” Sky muttered.
I had to agree. The low, menacing voice kept spewing one hateful thing after another. It was pissing me off. I’d never wanted to explode one of these ghostlies as badly as I wanted to take this one out.
Finally, we saw him. A figure huddled under a small, lightweight, holey, olive green blanket. He was curled in on himself with his head buried in his own lap and turned towardthe wall. I prepared my stance, ready to face his tormentor, but…
Sky’s head whipped around as he too searched for the ugly-spirited undead, but there was no sign of him anywhere. Yet, his voice still echoed through the small chamber. What the hell?
The man against the wall started begging for mercy again, but his attacker’s words got more vulgar and crude. Patchy growled low in his chest from the shelter of Sky’s arms. He patted his familiar absently while his face turned red with fury. “Where is it?”
“I don’t know.” Shoving the flashlight into Sky’s hand, I stepped into the glow from the beam of light and said in a loud, stern voice. “Show yourself.”
The spooky cackled but otherwise ignored me and went back to heckling the stranger. Based on the ratty backpack, bottle of water, and box of crackers to his side, I assumed he was homeless and staying here for the night. I couldn’t think of another reason why he might dream of this place. Unless he’d stayed here before and moved on now, and he longed for the safety of this tunnel. The thought of that made my heart hurt. I wouldn’t want to step in here for longer than stepping out of a rainstorm.
“King, what do we do?” he asked, moving the light this way and that trying to find the culprit, but the only person in here with us was the man.
“Leave. Run,” the guy said. “I’ll be fine.”
