The Fell Read online

  ‘Do you really think I wouldn’t tell you the minute I found something?’

  Yeah, Ian sounded a little annoyed, but he’d failed to mention several things in the past—until it was too late.

  ‘You’re gonna keep rubbing that in forever, aren’t you?’

  It wasn’t hard, really.

  Below him on the stairs, Chase stepped out onto what looked like glowing white floors before the low ceiling of the stairwell hid him from view. Ben paused just for a second, waiting for the terrified scream that never came, then made his way down the last few steps.

  The floors weren’t glowing—it was the white, sterile-looking, insanely bright lighting running up and down the length of this massive room’s ceiling. The top of every wall was lined in track lighting giving off that blue glow, sections of it blinking occasionally, like a massive version of one of Chase’s mounted servers stacked up in the guy’s living room. Only this looked like they’d stepped into a giant server, and if Ben had been impressed—or totally confused—by the setup in Chase’s house, Richard Monday’s basement lab blew all that out of the water.

  The place had to stretch underground at least the width of the entire house above them, if not farther. Ben didn’t quite understand how it worked; he’d lost all sense of direction following Richard through his museum of a house, and now he couldn’t tell if this hidden, high-tech space spanned out below the streets of Charlestown or into the Mystic River itself. But it was huge.

  There were shelves down here too, some housing computer parts Ben couldn’t begin to name while others held the same kind of oddities found upstairs. In the center of the room was a squared setup of consoles, monitors, keyboards, and a whole bunch of other fancy bells and whistles. The tables forming the square all faced inward, so anyone sitting there would be looking across the middle at whoever happened to sit at another table—except for the glaringly white tower rising from the center. It made Ben think of a power core or nuclear reactor squeezed into a super tiny box—something he might have seen powering a spaceship or an entire station in a Sci-Fi movie. Of course, then his mind went to the possibility of this powering, holding, or sustaining the massive forces of demons Richard Monday had trapped here in his underground lair before luring Ben and his friends down here to finally take them out of the game.

  It was ridiculous, yeah, but Ben was really open to not ruling out any possibilities. Doing that had only flung him into deeper holes.

  ‘I seriously don’t think he’s holding a demon army in that thing,’ Ian said.

  You don’t know, Ben replied. Maybe it was built to keep undead spirits living in their friends’ bodies from seeing anything at all.

  ‘I just meant that you’re not that important.’

  Bite me.

  Ben was highly aware of April stepping up beside him. Maybe she actually pressed her arm a little against his; maybe he was imagining it. But he definitely didn’t imagine Peter walking right into his back and making them both stumble a little.

  “What—” Peter started, blinking in surprise at Ben before he looked back up at the room around them and let his mouth fall completely open.

  “This is ridiculous,” Chase muttered, stepping to the right and farther into the room. His gaze swept back toward Ben, Peter, and April, then passed quickly again to the other side of the glowing space that could have been in a Sci-Fi movie and scowled. Ben took this as a sign that the guy was both impressed and highly offended by Richard Monday’s superior setup here.

  “You’ve stepped into a different world,” Richard said, his voice echoing a little in all the space between the bright lights and the ridiculously pristine, shiny white floors. The man had stopped at a low round table beside the square of computers—or control consoles, or whatever—and raised his hands to his face. Ben couldn’t see even a little what the guy was doing. When Richard lowered his hands again, he turned slowly around and blinked a few times at his unsuspecting visitors. He’d taken off his glasses, which just made him look smaller and way more average-looking than before. “I mean to bring you fully into it, Benjamin. Provided you answer a few questions for me and agree to our terms.”

  Our terms? Ben really hoped the guy wasn’t speaking for himself and a bunch of disembodied spirits, forces, demons, or all of the above neither he nor Ian could see here.

  ‘I told you to chill out about that.’

  Easier said than done.

  “Dude, Peter,” Chase said, crossing to the far wall as if he knew exactly what was going on. “I think you have the creepy-cabinet mini of this ugly thing.”

  How Ben hadn’t seen this before Chase pointed it out, he had no idea. But now it stood out like … well, like an ugly piece of furniture in a spotless lab of white, silver, and blue. The back half of the wall did actually have a much larger, more grotesque-looking version of the wooden demon-stone cabinet Peter had received anonymously with almost no directions for it whatsoever. Okay, not anonymously. It had to have come from Richard Monday, which Ben figured everyone here now realized. Richard’s own version, though, was bigger than a bed, standing eight or nine feet tall against the wall, both doors open completely to reveal another super odd collection of stones, cups, jewelry, medallions, what looked like a gauntlet, a boot that was more holes than leather, and another taxidermized animal. From here, it looked like a squirrel. What was with the animals?

  The weirdest part was the detail inside the huge cabinet—the same swirling lines of what looked like silver inlay filling the grain of the wood. And on top of this ran coils and loops of countless translucent cables, all of them glowing the same blue as the track lighting lining the ceiling around them.

  ‘Okay, that part’s a little weird,’ Ian admitted.

  Told you.

  Ben didn’t really want to join Chase in getting a closer look at the obviously heavy monstrosity of poorly crafted cabinetry. The blue cables and what little he could see of the cabinet’s contents brought a little shiver down the back of his neck, and he couldn’t quite tell if he could claim full responsibility for that shiver or if Ian had added to it.

  ‘Can’t help a physical reaction,’ Ian said, and now he sounded just a little freaked out.

  Great. That was totally helpful. Big confidence-booster.

  “That is not for you, Mr. Bernadine,” Richard Monday said. He’d obviously spoken to Chase, but he was staring at Ben, his dark eyes squinting now without his glasses. “I strongly advise against thinking you know more than me here.”

  Chase turned around to scowl at the back of the man’s head, looking like he’d either just been slapped or insulted. Part of Ben hoped it was both, but he had a feeling Richard Monday couldn’t slap as hard as Peter had punched Chase when the four of them had first met. The other part of him just wanted Chase to chill the hell out, because none of them had any idea what this man wanted from them or why he’d strung them along into his weirdo cave to apparently just ask a few questions. The man could have done that in another anonymous letter without all this.

  “Benjamin,” Richard said, as if reading his mind. It got Ben’s attention, all right. “Are you ready to begin our discussion?”

  Ben glanced around quickly, a little thrown off by the fact that the man stood halfway across the room, never offered him a seat, and apparently thought that was the most comfortable way to start whatever discussion this was supposed to be. Richard Monday seemed to find comfort in making everyone else uncomfortable.

  “Sure,” Ben said, shrugging a little. “I mean, that’s why we’re here.”

  “It’s why you’re here,” the man said with a small dip of his head. “But yes, I understand what you intended to say.” Ben was about to ask why the guy had even invited April, Peter, and Chase to come along—despite having referred to them as Ben’s associates—but Richard just forged ahead. “I’d like you to start by telling me about your passenger.”

  What?

  ‘Crap,’ Ian said.

  “What?” Ben asked
out loud. His heart dropped into his stomach and swished around in the sudden sickness there.

  “The other presence inhabiting your body,” Richard said flatly, like he’d just asked Ben where he’d bought his t-shirt.

  Ben automatically glanced at Chase, who stared at him, his eyes just a little wider than normal beneath his stupid flop of blond hair peeking out of his beanie. Ben’s eyes darted immediately back to Richard Monday.

  ‘He knows.’ Ian somehow sounded both worried and incredibly excited, which was stupid. ‘Dude, he knows.’

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ben said, trying not to fumble his way through that sentence and completely give himself away. He couldn’t talk to this weird dude in this underground tech bunker about Ian. Not with Peter and April right here. He hadn’t had the chance to tell them anything. Chase already knew and was pretty much deadlocked into keeping his mouth shut about it—at least, if he wanted to stay out of prison. April might have already had an idea of what had been going on with Ben the last couple months, but he hadn’t had the time to fully explain it to her in actual words. And Peter was absolutely clueless. Probably.

  Richard pressed his lips together, then turned briefly to retrieve something from the round table behind him. When he faced Ben again, he put his glasses back on and blinked, his eyes looking huge again behind the thick lenses. It was super odd until the man stepped forward and Ben got a good look at the table; there were four or five other pairs of the exact same glasses resting there, which didn’t mean anything except for the fact that the man had suddenly felt it important to switch them out. Maybe. He could have just been stalling with the weirdness, waiting for some unknown countdown until he dropped the real bomb. Or a figurative bomb.

  ‘Except for he knows about me, Ben,’ Ian added. ‘That part’s real.’

  You don’t know that.

  The man walking toward Ben stared at him, adjusted his glasses, then looked Ben up and down like he was a piece of meat and clasped his hands together. “I see. Perhaps that’s true, but it’s highly unlikely, isn’t it? I hope you’re not choosing to lie to me, Benjamin. Seeing as we’re still rather unacquainted, however, I’m willing to overlook your reluctance in the interest of absolute transparency. So allow me to tell you what I see.”

  No. Please, no.

  4

  “Currently, you harbor a human spirit inside you,” Richard said.

  “Yeah. Mine.” Right now, Ben would do anything he could to keep this secret buried. Now was not the time or the place, and Richard Monday was not the person who should be breaking this revelation wide open for Peter and April to pick apart at their leisure. Chase snorted again, but Ben didn’t dare look at the guy. If he did, he thought he might explode and hurt the newest, not-quite-willingly accepted member of their team.

  Richard adjusted the thick frames of his glasses one more time and pursed his lips, which was pretty much the most emotion he’d shown since they’d been here in his house. “A disembodied human spirit inhabiting your fleshly vessel. And you are its host.”

  What the hell? Ben was way more than a fleshly vessel or a damn host. And who was this guy, talking like this and studying Ben like he was some kind of biological mutation?

  ‘Jeeze, I’m not a parasite,’ Ian replied, and of course, only Ben could hear him.

  “What’s he talking about?” April asked.

  It tore him apart not to be able to answer her—to at least look at her. If he had any chance of convincing Richard Monday he thought the man was just spouting impossible lies, he couldn’t move at all.

  “Ben?”

  He almost turned toward her when she said his name, but Richard kept talking.

  “A symbiotic relationship that seems to have been quite beneficial for both of you,” the man said. “So far.”

  ‘Yeah. Symbiosis.’

  Ben swallowed, not even able to clench his fists; that would just give him away.

  “I’ve seen some of what this relationship enables,” Richard continued. “Your unique skillset, Benjamin. What I haven’t yet discerned is how and when this symbiosis came to be. It must have been quite recently, and yet I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Stop, stop, stop.

  “Of course, one can only speculate as to the long-term effects of such an affiliation. I imagine it hasn’t been without its own set of challenges. So please, Benjamin, do enlighten me.”

  The guy said all this like he was reading from a research paper, and it made Ben’s blood boil. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not like this.

  ‘Hey, easy, killer,’ Ian added. Hearing someone else’s laughter in his mind still made Ben a little twitchy. ‘I’m just happy to finally get a little bit of recognition, here.’

  “You’re crazy,” Ben shouted. It just exploded out of him, propelled by all the things he’d been holding back for months—the secrets, the frustration, the uncertainty, the chaos of thinking they knew what they were doing and only getting it right about half the time. The minute it was out, though, he knew he’d seriously screwed up. He didn’t even have to turn his head to see Peter take a few steps away from him. He felt his friend withdrawing, like Ben had been standing outside in the blistering February cold and someone had just ripped off his jacket.

  Out of everyone in this room, Peter was really the only one of them who knew how Ben felt about that word—as a label, as an accusation, as a life sentence of always being ignored, ridiculed, and rejected. Crazy was Ben’s own personal version of a racial slur that had nothing to do with race and everything to do with who a person was—and wasn’t. Now he’d said it, and now he’d just handed over the victory of this weird, messed-up game to the one person any of them had met who knew more about this paranormal stuff than they did. Shit.

  “Ian,” Peter whispered, and it wasn’t a question.

  ‘Heya, buddy,’ Ian said, knowing full well Peter couldn’t hear him.

  Ben had to turn around. “Pete…”

  Peter just shook his head, frowning and blinking his wide eyes. Then he started nodding, like all the pieces were coming together and he couldn’t figure out which way his head should move. “It’s Ian, isn’t it?”

  “Oh…” April said, though she didn’t sound nearly as shaken as Peter. “That’s what you were going to tell me.”

  “Oh, nice.” Peter finally broke from his stunned disbelief and glanced from April to Ben again. “You were gonna tell her about our not-dead friend… what? Living inside you?” He raised a pale finger to weakly point at April, then let it drop again.

  ‘Hey, he got it.’

  “Yeah, that’s good.” Peter’s head moved in an angry circle, nodding and shaking and doing something Ben thought heads might do before someone passed out. “Because Ian was just one of my best friends too. You know, the one you and I went back to that stupid house to save. Awesome to know you felt totally cool talking to April about it.”

  “Hey—” April started.

  “Dude, I told you we got him out,” Ben said, cutting her off because it was apparently way more important for him right now to desperately try to clean up this mess than let April either stand up for him or try to explain things better than he could. Which was pretty much always the case, and Ben couldn’t really let that happen right now.

  “Yeah. You got him out,” Peter barked. “Somehow failed to mention that it’s because he’s been inside you this whole time.” The guy grimaced, shaking his head and throwing his hands in the air.

  ‘Oh, come on,’ Ian moaned. ‘Dude, it just sounds so wrong when he says it like that.’

  “Pete,” Ben started, spreading his arms, “there was just never a good time to tell you—”

  “Right, ‘cause you were just too busy screwing April and telling her instead.”

  Woah.

  “Peter!” April’s shout echoed through the huge tech-lab-bunker. “That has nothing to—”

  “I wasn’t talking to you, Warbird, okay?”


  “What?” she snapped.

  ‘I don’t think he realizes that’s actually a compliment,’ Ian said.

  Ben couldn’t believe Peter had just referenced a Marvel character in anger. Like, how long had he been sitting on that one? “Hey, don’t blame her for this,” he said instead, wondering how much worse this could possibly get. Probably not much.

  “No, I blame you.” Peter shrugged. “And Ian. Or… whatever parts of him are… floatin’ around.” He stopped to take out his inhaler again and puffed on it twice.

  “I know I owe you an explanation,” Ben offered. What he really wanted was to tell Richard Monday to forget about whatever else the man wanted to discuss and get the hell out of this house.

  Peter choked on something. “I don’t even think I want one now. ‘Cause I don’t know how much bullsh—”

  “I would very much appreciate an explanation,” Richard cut in, and a wave of cold humiliation rushed down Ben’s back. The man had just been standing there the whole time, letting him and Peter whine at each other like idiots while he just watched and waited for his explanation.

  Ben whirled on the guy. “Why should I tell you anything?”

  Richard just stared at him. “Because despite everything you’ve faced in the last few months, Benjamin, you have not turned away from your abilities or what you might do to help others. The world doesn’t know a fraction of what we deal with day in and day out. Of the things lurking just beyond this realm, occasionally granted access to wreak havoc on a scale more massive than you can imagine.” Richard clasped his hands together and laced his fingers in front of his chest. “Because I still know more than you. Given what I also know of your tendencies and inability to look the other way, I believe you wish to know more as well.”

  The entire lab fell completely silent at that. Ben could only glare at Richard Monday, hating everything that had happened in the last five minutes and wishing he could erase all of it. And he really hoped the man only referred to himself and Ben when he’d said we.