Inbetween

Chapter 32

Finn Everyone’s version of Hell is different. Or so Easton tells me. Some burn in fire. Some die in ice.

Most drown in their nightmares, or choke on twisted fears and mangled memories. Only one thing is certain here—whatever your poison, it’s sure to last an eternity.

Easton tugged me down the ash path, through the blazing gates, and to the smaller iron gate where we’d deposited the two souls. He rapped his scythe on the bars and I knew I should have been afraid, but instead, I thought of Emma. I wanted to remember her warmth. I wanted to remember her breath in my mouth and my hands in her hair. I wanted to remember her like the dream she was before they turned her into a nightmare.

The gates opened. “Let’s go.”

It was dark here, and the heat strangled me. In the distance, screams morphed together into one long, continuous moan that felt infectious. Like the sound was reaching down into my belly trying to pull my scream up to join them. I flinched when the buzzing sound of a chainsaw echoed down the corridor. Something wet splashed under my shoes, but it felt too thick to be water. Smelled too metallic to be anything other than blood.

Someone cleared their throat and Easton stopped. A soft glow lit up the dark cave, splashing light onto the stone walls like melted gold. A rush of cold turned the sweat dripping off of my nose to ice.

Balthazar.

He folded his hands behind his back and sighed. Behind him, yellow glowing eyes blinked from the corners.

“You just couldn’t listen, could you?” he said, stepping toward me. He looked over my shoulder at Easton and jerked his chin. “You can go. I’m sure you have plenty of other work to do.”

Easton squeezed my arm once before releasing me. “What are you going to do to him?”

“That’s none of your concern.” Balthazar’s eyes glowed as he narrowed them on Easton. “But if you’re intent on staying, maybe we could arrange something for you, too.”

Easton hesitated in the doorway, his violet eyes burning with regret. Then he stepped into the darkness. I stood still, listening to the splash of his footsteps until he was gone. Lifting my chin and tamping down the fear inside of me, I looked at Balthazar. He had his own brand of regret settling across his face, but it wasn’t enough to change anything. He was probably more upset he was soiling his bright white robe, which was soaked in blood from the ankle down.

“Possessing a human?” Balthazar hissed. “Are you trying to make a fool of me? Did you honestly think it could go unpunished?”

I shook my head and considered ratting out Scout, who clearly wasn’t on Balthazar’s radar, but I didn’t. I’d known the consequences of my actions. They were mine and mine alone. “What’s next?” I asked, bracing myself. Balthazar didn’t answer right away. Instead he strode forward and nodded for me to follow. He ducked under the low, dripping rocks and when we came up on the other side, we were met by a crystal clear pool of water. Not understanding the compelling need to see it, I stepped forward. A rippling reflection of myself stared back at me, stone-faced, afraid. Something dark swam under the surface and my reflection smiled and waved, then burst into flames. Black skeleton fingers broke the surface and pulled the reflected Finn into the depths.

I wiped the sweat out of my face and swallowed a fresh batch of fear down my throat. “What is this?”

“Your worst fears. Your nightmares.” Balthazar looked into the water and smirked. “A place where they all come to life. Everyone’s Hell is different. This one is about to be yours.”

I closed my eyes and inhaled the rotten smoldering stench of this place into my lungs. I’d known this was going to happen. I’d been leading up to this moment for the past two years. But knowing didn’t make it any easier now that it was here.

“Please take care of her,” I said. “I might deserve this, but she doesn’t. Assign her a guardian. Send someone after Maeve. Anything. Just don’t leave her alone with my mistakes.”

“Emma is not my concern,” he said, grudgingly, as he turned to leave. “And she’s not yours anymore, either.”

“Balthazar, wait!” I reached out, but he was gone. A cool white fog lingered where he’d been standing, but the heat was quick to snuff it out.

Before I could pull in another acrid breath, the air was suctioned out of the room. My lungs burned and my eyes watered. The walls began to weave together, black vines crawling, braiding, and locking me in. I spun around and the glistening reflecting pool was gone. All that was left was a gaping crater.

Vines crept up from the center, piling on top of one another until they spilled up over the edge. They smelled like they’d been soaked in jet fuel. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to breathe. But God…I needed to breathe. I hadn’t needed to breathe like this in seventy years. One of the vines at my feet sparked and a slim flame swirled around the stem. The black leaves burst into ash as it danced closer and set another vine ablaze.

“Not this. Please,” I whispered to myself, and only to myself. Anyone here would only roll on the floor laughing at my plea for help.

Another vine went up and scorched the toe of my shoe, and I stumbled back, tripping over my own legs. One by one, the vines caught fire. Closing me in. Tighter. Tighter. I pressed my back against the heated stone wall behind me and curled into myself in a nest of vines. The black billowing smoke blinded me and fear took over.

The ground shuddered under me and I grabbed at the vines on either side of me. But I didn’t find vines. I found the sides of a sweaty vinyl seat. I looked up and the cockpit was filled with a choking black smoke. A flame stretched up from the back and licked my shoulder. I slapped at my jacket, trying to put it out.

“Not real. Not real. Not real.” I repeated it like a prayer, knowing it wouldn’t matter. My fist battered the dashboard as I watched the gauges spin out of control. I jerked at my seat belt, but it wouldn’t budge. The buckle to my harness had melted under the heat. A high-pitched whine filled my ears. I looked up a second before the ocean crashed in through the big cockpit window. Broken glass slapped me in the face. Salt water stung my charred back. I sucked in a lungful of…water.

Shit!

I sputtered in the black water and sucked in another gulp of wet brine that set my lungs on fire. I couldn’t tell up from down. My fingers grasped for something solid but found even more water. And when the world started to go black…it felt way too good not to let go.

My eyes flew open and a gut-wrenching scream ripped through the cave. It took a second to realize it came out of my mouth. That I wasn’t in the plane anymore. Flames crawled up my pants. My shirt. I shut my eyes and choked when the flames leaped onto my face. Through the inferno, Emma held Henry’s hand. They were burning, too. Burning and melting and reaching for me and I couldn’t move.

I couldn’t breathe.

“Stop!” I screamed through my ruined lips. They felt numb now. At least there was that. Slowly, the red world in front of me turned to ash. Gray. Cold. I closed my eyes and shivered, curled onto my side.

The flames were gone, and for a moment I thought they might have mercy. I thought they might just let me stay numb. But when I opened my eyes again, a new nightmare unfolded like an origami bird, slowly stretching out before me.

Pop’s farm.

I sat up and ran my hands over the frost-covered ground. The peach trees, brittle and dead, swayed under the cold pewter sky. An empty whistle of wind swept past me, stirring their branches. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t home. Ash, soft as petals, fell from the sky as I blinked at my surroundings.

“Pop!” I stopped to listen. Someone whimpered behind me and my muscles locked in place. It sounded far away and faint, but it was a whimper. I skirted through the peach trees. Trees I’d climbed in and broken bones in as a kid. Trees that had given us purpose. A life. I laid my palm against the crumbling bark of a tree and it turned to ash beneath my fingertips. The whimper crept up my spine, this time from behind me. I spun around and found Pop leaning against a tree. Black and charred.

Clinging to life.

A sob welled in my chest, and I fell to my knees in front of him. His calloused hands reached out for me and I grasped one of them in mine, ignoring the way they scorched my skin.

“Pop…no.”

“You left,” he gasped. “You left us.” He said it over and over until my ears wanted to bleed. Behind me, trees erupted in flames until the field consisted of nothing but heat and ash and disfigured memories. I backed away from Pop and winced when a flame sprang to life on my back. It crawled down my arms, setting my fingertips ablaze.

He was right. I’d left. I’d burned. And now I was dead.