Mary Hades (6 page)

“No,” I mutter without meaning to.

“What’s wrong?” Seth says.

I shake my head. This can’t be happening now, not on the first date that has made me feel normal.

It crawls up the ride.

Bony fingers cling
to the metal framework.

An x
-ray of bones shine through its skin. I lean forward and grip the safety bar with my fingers, gripping so hard that the whites of my knuckles protrude through my skin, like the bones of the
Thing
climbing up to me.

“What do you want?” I whisper.

“What did you say?” Seth asks.

“Nothing,” I reply.

“Are you all right? You look a little pale? It’s the ride, isn’t it? Don’t worry, it gets a bit stiff sometimes, when it’s been inactive for a few minutes. Did I frighten you with what I said? Honestly, it’s fine. Damo knows how to—”

Screeeeeech
.

The ride stops so abruptly that I’m thrust forward against the safety bar.
My head snaps forward, painfully. One of the bears slips from my grasp and hurtles down towards the black ground below.

“Shit.” Seth grabs hold of my shoulders and pulls me back against the seat. “That’s never happened before. Are you all right?”

The
Thing
is gone. It has passed on the warning, showing me its hideous face. Now I have to wait for whatever horrible event is about to happen.

Are we going to die?

The Ferris wheel bench rocks back and forth, suspended halfway down the 80 foot full height of the wheel, as boasted on the sign by the ticket booth. Seth holds me tight, his anxious face turned down towards the control booth below.

“
Damo?” he shouts. “Damo, what’s happening down there, pal?”

There’s the scrape of a door opening and a small voice calls up.
“Summats up, mate. The controls have gone funny. I keep trying to get you down, but then it… it’s like it has a life of its bloody own.”

Seth rubs his chin. The wheel lurches forward again, this time making me cry out and grip onto Seth’s arm tighter.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “It’s gonna be all right.”

I shake my head. No it isn’t. When the Things show up, it’s because someone is going to get hurt.
It’s not usually me, it’s someone else. Death follows me.

“This is my fault,” I whisper.

“What?” he says.

“Bad things happen… you… you should get away from me.”

Our seat rocks forward, forcing us both up against the safety bar. “This isn’t your fault—”

The bench drops an inch to the left, but my heart drops to my knees. We slide together, hitting the edge. In a moment of utter p
anic I realise that the chain has come loose at the top. There’s a good chance it will break altogether and we’ll fall…

“Mary?” Lacey flickers on, balancing on the edge of our bench. I’ve never been so relieved to see her. I don’t know what she can do, but the sight of her familiar face begins to calm my nerves.

Seth has his fingers around my arms, pinning me to the seat, trying to stop us from slipping over the edge
. My heart pounds like a piston against my ribs, so hard I’m afraid they’ll break.

“What the hell?”
Lacey says. Her eyes flash when she sees the broken chain and the drop below us. Her expression darkens with terror before she whispers, “We’re not alone,” with a distant voice. I’m trying to concentrate on holding on with Seth, but Lacey’s expression, and the way she stares down at the framework of the Ferris wheel, fills me with dread. “I can feel her. She’s angry, so angry. She wants justice. She wants…”

Death, she wants death. There’s no need for her to finish that sentence. I already know it.
Death follows me
.

“Mary,” Seth says. “I think this chain is going to snap.” His forehead is covered in
a slick of sweat. “I have to climb up to the next carriage and pull you up. You’re going to have to hold on to the safety bar until I’m up there.”

“He’s right, Mares,”
Lacey says. “That thing is going to snap. There’s some bad mojo here. Listen to the guy. Trust him.”

“Be careful,” I whisper.

He nods, releases my arm, and gently wraps my hands around the safety bar.
The bear lies uselessly in my lap. He takes a deep breath and wipes the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. “Hold on tight. I won’t be long.”

A primal sort of fear takes over
me. The kind that you feel in your gut, or even deeper, right down in your bones. My muscles clench as he lifts himself from the seat, grabbing on to the metal framework of the Ferris wheel. The bench rights itself as his weight leaves the car, tipping me back to the left. I slide slightly, dislodging the bear. My throat is thick and dry as I watch it plummet towards the field below. I blink and turn away.

Seth is strong. He lifts his own weight with relative ease, but maintaining that weight is tough. The tension in his arms causes muscles to protrude as he swings his legs up to balance himself on the wheel.
I know he told me to hold on to the safety bar, but I let go and turn around so that I position myself under him. Maybe I could grab him if he falls. Maybe I could save him because the thought of watching him plunge to his death churns at my stomach.

“Hold tight, Mare
s,” Lacey says. “It’s gonna be fine.”

“What’s doing this?” I whisper. “What is it?”

Her voice changes to a lower register. “It’s a spirit. I can feel her. She’s pretty scary. Um, maybe a bit on the evil side.”

A tear rolls down my nose.
I watch as Seth grapples along the framework, moving closer to the seat above us. Why would anything do this to us?

But then it isn’t the first time I’ve faced evil.
The difference being that last time the evil was human.

Seth’s fingers miss on his first reach towards the upper carriage. I gasp, hoping, praying he can make it. He swings o
n one arm, the tension visible on his strained face.

“Hold on,” I shout, somehow hoping it will help. “A few inches to your right, grab the bar.”

Seth swings one more time. He does it! His fingers loop over the bench, gripping the carriage above us. My heart leaps into my mouth. Lacey lets out a “Wooohooo!” He’s going to be all right.

The next arm reaches out as he clings on with his legs and one hand. First time, miss. Second time, gets it. Now all he needs to do is pull the rest of his body onto the bench.
I grip the back of my seat, tingling nerves swimming in my stomach, the whiskey churning, burning, turning.

Please
.

Seth begins to pull himself up.

The wheel lurches forward. The chain on my seat breaks and time seems to freeze.

The first time in my life that I faced death, I rejected it. I decided that I wouldn’t die in the fire at my school.
I made the decision right then and there that I would get myself out alive, and I did. The second time I faced death, I accepted it. I realised that I had lived with the shadow of it hanging over my existence, stopping me from truly living. At that moment, I let it go.

Lacey
died instead of me.

This time, I want to live, and I don’t want to lose anyone else, even the fairground guy who stepped into my life less than five hours ago. But
, unlike the first time, I’m not afraid, not even of the pain. I think that’s how I manage to jump.

And grasp the side of the Ferris wheel.

Seth hangs from the bench above, his face pure purple with effort, his arms strained.

“Hold on, Mary. I can… get… myself… up,” he says, lifting his dangling legs with his forearms.

The wheel is stuck… for now… and I use the stillness to my advantage, climbing up the framework so I can meet Seth in the upper carriage.

Lacey
crawls up the wheel, showing me where I can take a handhold, where I can avoid hot lights, and where I can shove the toe of my trainers to gain purchase.

I’m not strong, and I
’m forced to reach inside myself for the extra strength to keep me going, to stop my muscles from giving up. The next time I glance across at Seth, he’s in the bench, leaning back in the seat, his chest rising and falling, a glazed look of shock on his face. I know the feeling.

His eyes snap to mine and in an instant he’s out of his trance and working to help me. On his belly, he reaches forwards, underneath the safety bar
, so I can take hold of his hands.

“A little further, Mary, you can do it,” he says. His voice trembles very slightly, but it is far calmer, and far stronger than
I feel inside.

My
calves burn with the effort. My arms ache. My heart thumps against my ribcage. I don’t care. We’re making it. We’re doing this. I won’t be like that boy in the car park. I push myself forwards. Then I grip with my knees and lean my body weight against the metal as I reach out towards Seth.

His fingers flex towards me. “You can do this.”

It’s that moment again; that life or death moment when thoughts rush through your brain like a speeding train. I can’t do this. Yes, you can. Remember when you were little and you fell off your bike and broke your arm? Yeah? Well this is gonna hurt a hundred times more than that.

Acceptance.

“Mary, reach for him.” It’s Lacey’s voice, soothing and believing. She always believed. Always.

I reach out for him, our fingers touch but they don’t connect.

Then again, Lacey
died
believing.

I’m not
Lacey.

My fingers curl over his. He wiggles forward, getting a better hold of me.

“She’s here,” Lacey whispers. “I can… I’ll find her. I’ll stop her.”

“Yeah, you do that,” I say, struggling to keep hold of Seth.

“Let go, Mary, I’ve got you,” Seth says.

Let go
.

Are there two words
in the English language more laden with meaning?

I do
. And in doing it, I soar. No, I don’t fall, I dangle, struggling to pull myself onto the seat above, but there’s something about the feeling of putting all your trust in one person; it fills your heart with this freeing sensation that tells you life will never be the same again. I’ve opened myself now. Maybe it will never close.

By some miracle, I end up squirming under the safety bar and in
to Seth’s arms. He’s sticky with sweat, his heart hammers against his chest, thrumming beneath my ear. He holds me fiercely.

“I can’t believe we did it,” he says.

“Now we just need to get down.”

We break into
manic giggles, the stress and the enormity of our achievement hitting us both at the same time. Below us, a crowd has gathered. One of the fairground workers shouts up.

“We’
ve called the services, Seth. Hold tight.”

“Oh, I plan to,” Seth shouts down.

Lacey is nowhere to be seen. The things she said… about a spirit? An evil spirit. I worry for her. Yeah, she’s dead, but can ghosts hurt each other? Can one send the other somewhere… unpleasant? I remember the way the ghosts of Dr. Gethen’s victims dragged him beneath them, eating at his flesh. His screams still haunt me in my dreams.

I swallow. It isn’t over yet. We’re not down on the ground.

We both watch the fairground workers below, gripping each other’s hands, our jaws clenched, no more words to be spoken. They stand in a group, waiting, probably feeling as useless as we do. Damo is with them. He must have given up on the controls, worried he was making matters worse.

I start to sink into my seat, concern for
Lacey weighing me down. Where did she go? Where does she go when she leaves me? Is it horrible? Is it peaceful?

Another cold shudder passes through my body when the Thing turns up once more. I see its bony white fingers first. Then it pulls its body up, so that its bright skull-face is level with mine. I swa
llow, trying hard not to scream.

They don’t usually talk.

They write. Messages on school walls, doctor’s windows.

This one hisses to me.

Cloaked in shadow,

Cloaked in light,

She takes the lives,

To gain her might.

And with that, it is gone. As always, I get the message, then it goes. My fingers tighten over Seth’s. He turns to me, sees my expression and tries to calm me.

“Hey, it’s going to be all right, the fire department will be here soon. They’ll get us out no problem.”

No they won’t. I know it’s going to happen before it starts. The wheel jerks forward. The music blares out. It spins. Fast now, faster than a Ferris wheel should go. The ground rushes towards us and, for a split second, I lose sense of reality. It’s like watching a film of someone free-falling towards the ground. The stress response of my brain tells me that this can’t be real, this can’t be happening, because it’s too much for me to handle.