A Flight of Souls
Page 25

“What is he like?” Lucas asked.
Now I would have to lie.
An asshole just like you were would have been the truthful answer, but not the most tactful one in this particular circumstance.
“He, uh… He looks like you,” I replied. That was about the most I could bring myself to say about Jeramiah at this point in time. And it wasn’t even all that true. Jeramiah did not look much like Lucas—at least, I hadn’t been able to recognize the resemblance. In hindsight, I guessed there were similarities; their eyes, height and hair color. But otherwise, I guessed Jeramiah must resemble his mother more than his father.
“He’s actually been trying to reconnect with you,” I went on.
“Reconnect,” Lucas murmured, leaving the word hanging in the air.
I cast my eyes up at the surface of the pool, still paranoid that the ghouls would be on the hunt for me to file me back in chronological order… most likely after they were done “disciplining” me, whatever that entailed.
Lucas brought my focus back on him again as he asked, “Where is he now?” It was both a relief and a pleasant surprise to have him asking questions.
I didn’t know where he was. Perhaps he’d returned to The Oasis? I realized that might be the best answer to give Lucas, given the fact that it was where Lucas had actually died. It might serve to provide yet another jolt to his dusty memory.
“The Oasis,” I replied. “Jeramiah misses you terribly. He even installed a memorial stone there…” And tried to murder my parents and grandfather to avenge you, I added silently.
Now I saw a small window with which I could try to pry him open again. “Is… there anything at all that you could tell me that might help me figure out a way to escape? If I managed to find a way, you could come with me. I could help you to find your son… to reconnect with him,” I added, emphasizing the word that seemed to mean a lot to him. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?”
He nodded. “I would.” His voice had become hoarse. “I would very much like to see my son…” Again I found myself marveling that this was really the same man who had attempted on a number of occasions to rape and murder my mother.
Here, I paused, waiting for him to take the bait. Finally, he did—though not in the way I had really hoped.
“I did try to escape this place before,” he murmured, furrowing his brows. “I recall it now. More than once. More than… any of these ever tried…” He gestured toward the ghosts on the floor of the pool. They had stopped watching Lucas now, and had returned to their former, comatose state. “But each time I got caught. They would take me to a room. Lock me in… a box, where I would see things… Terrible things.” He paused, swallowing hard. “The last time they locked me up was… the worst. After that, I never tried to flee again.”
“How exactly did you try to escape?” I asked.
He shifted uncomfortably, though his eye contact remained constant. “The last time was when… when I was still higher up.” He nodded his head up to the ceiling. “Many ghosts tried to escape at once. I was one of the leaders of the plot, at the forefront of the crowd as we attempted to escape through the base of the whirlpool. As soon as the ghouls spotted us storming toward them, they closed the exit. And those they believed to be at the forefront of the plot were punished and then… thrust downwards. Further down than I’d ever been.”
I was still thinking about the exit. “How did the ghouls close the exit off?” I asked.
His face scrunched in concentration. “They, uh, they kept… a net nearby, tucked among the rocks. It was a net that none of us could pass through. They fixed it at the base of the vortex and fastened it. There was nothing we could do to get out. It was just… impossible.”
So they have some kind of barrier. I hadn’t noticed any “net” when I had been down there but then again, Lucas had said that they kept it stashed away. I wondered when the last mass escape attempt had taken place. I would’ve thought that it would happen on a regular basis, but perhaps only among the new recruits, who hadn’t already seen that it was “impossible”.
I also found it interesting that Lucas had said he’d been a leader among the rebels. Leader. From the description my father had always given of him, he’d never struck me as a leader; a wannabe leader maybe…
It appeared that this place had changed Lucas in many ways.
“So,” I continued, “you did find out that you were not actually in Hell. You found out before you got thrust down here?”
“Yes,” he replied. “Yes, I did. But I… I appear to have forgotten a lot of things after the last time the ghouls caught me. Though… I’m starting to remember some things now.”
From the horror behind Lucas’ eyes, I got the feeling that none of the things he was remembering were welcome.
I was about to continue my questioning when I froze. The sound of ghouls tittering drifted down from the chamber above. They’re still looking for me. Two shadows loomed over the surface of the pond. Then a hand dipped inside. I looked around wildly for somewhere to hide. If one of them peered into the water and looked around, they’d spot me in a matter of seconds.
I was about to hurtle down to the floor and attempt to bury myself beneath the sleeping ghosts, but then Lucas moved in front of me. I moved backward, deeper into the corner. He sat up a little straighter, enough to block direct view of me—at least somewhat. Of course, his body was translucent and on close scrutiny, it would be easy to see me behind him but… As one of the ghouls poked his head into the pond, his frightening gleaming eyes scanning the waters, he glanced only briefly over Lucas. I curled up into a ball and hunkered down low, trying to keep every part of me hidden behind Lucas’s form. It seemed that the ghoul didn’t spot me, as a moment later he raised his head out of the pond again. After he exchanged some more eerie words with his companion, the two shadows moved away. Lucas shifted a little, and I uncurled, slowly daring to resume my former position next to him. I stared at my uncle.