The Purgatorium (19 page)

“What does that mean?”

“Unchangeable. You can’t change the past. You can only learn to live with it.”

Daphne looked at the bracelet, and, although she thought it was pretty, she wanted to rip it from her wrist. She glared back at Hortense and said nothing, realizing she’d seen the same bracelet on Cam’s wrist.

Stan came closer, revealing something beneath his robe: the island fox. “Someone wants to say hi.” He walked up to Daphne and gingerly passed the fox over to her.

She couldn’t believe it. Relief swept over her. The fox had lived! It was warm and soft as it nestled its nose into the crook of her arm. “It’s not hurt?”

“Nope. Good as new, kiddo. His tail was bruised, but he’s fine now.”

Like a house cat, the fox rubbed his head against the underside of her palm. She stroked him and smiled.

“What’s his name?”

“Mini-me.”

“Mini-me,” she repeated. Peace washed over her as she cradled the fox and tears fled from her eyes. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” she said to Mini-me. “It wasn’t your fault.” As she hugged the fox, she felt like she was hugging herself.

As frightened as Daphne was to be alone in her room in Unit One, she refused to move into another unit to accommodate her and her parents. She had demanded that they return her home immediately, but they said the therapy required they all stay as a family for another few days.

She was sick and tired of what the therapy required.

Besides, Joey was still living in his facility back in Houston and Kara was dead. Her parents could call them a family all they wanted and it wouldn’t make it so. And although throwing the buckets of water on her parents and Brock and Cam
had
felt good, it hadn’t meant she would ever forgive them.

Exhausted, she took a warm shower, scrubbing all the oil from her skin. After toweling herself dry, she stood before the mirror, horrified again by her hairless body. She looked inhuman—more like a giant tadpole. Tears stung her eyes as she turned away and climbed into sweats and a hoodie, covering her bald head with the hood.

She was tempted to stay in the bathroom because of the cameras, but she decided she didn’t care, since all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep. As she lay beneath the covers and closed her eyes, the events of the past several days ran over and over in her mind, like a film on a loop. She felt like such a fool. They had played her, and she had let them. She clenched her fists and rolled over to her side, and then punched a fist into her pillow and fought the urge to scream. She couldn’t sleep. Would probably never be able to sleep again.

She threw off the covers and slipped on her shoes. She needed air.

It was dark by this time, and although a basket of food had been waiting for her in her room, she hadn’t eaten since she and Brock had shared their snack in the woods. That seemed like such a long time ago. Nevertheless, she had no appetite. Her entire body felt numb and shaky.

Though the deck area in the center of the resort was dark, the lights from inside the pool cast a glow onto two people sitting on loungers. Gregory Gray and Emma leaned close together, maybe even kissing. She crept past and headed for the beach.

The wind chilled her when she reached the top of the steps, which were lit by tall lamps, so anyone who looked up would see her standing there. But with her hood pulled low over her eyes, she might not be recognized. Unlike the wooden steps, the beach was covered by shadows, and the hill of poppies to her left and the bluffs to her right were shrouded in darkness. But the light from the moon was enough to see that there were people below near the shore. Daphne stole down a few of the steps to get a better look.

At first, they were huddled together, and she couldn’t make out much about them except that they all wore black. But then one of them shot a fist into the air and screeched, “Wooh hoo!” The huddle then broke up in a whirl of laughter and hand clapping, and before Daphne could make out individual faces, one of them looked up, noticed her, and waved. The face wasn’t familiar and looked pale in the moonlight. Then the group ran toward the steps below, heading straight up for Daphne, who stood there, frozen, unsure whether to wait for them or to run.

As they got closer, she noticed the white powder covering their bodies and black clothes. They had the same blue lips and red goo dripping from their eyes and mouths as the ghost girl and company who came to Daphne’s room her first night at the Purgatorium.  They clamored up the stairs toward her, laughing and smiling, but this made them seem even creepier than when they told her with their somber faces that she was one of the dead. Just as Daphne was about to turn and run back to her unit, she recognized one of the leaders. It was Cam.

He took her hand as the other ghosts ran past her and said, “Come with us.”

“What’s happening?’ she asked.

“We’re going to haunt the new arrivals. Come on. You’ll get a kick out of this.”

As the others passed by her, she recognized rowdy Dave, quiet Vince, Bridget, and Stan.

“Welcome, kiddo,” Stan said before running ahead of her after Bridget.

Cam held tight to her hand as they ran down the steps behind the others, reentering the resort proper. Gregory and Emma gave a friendly wave to the mob of the six of them as they hurried past the pool, down the sidewalk, to one of the other units.

Then Cam pulled Daphne around the side of the building behind a shrub. “Since you’re not in costume, you hang back here and watch through the window. We’ll try to get them out of the unit so you can get a better view.”

“Better view of what?”

“Just don’t let yourself be seen. It would ruin everything.”

Daphne crouched behind the shrub and peered through the window. The lights were off, so she could see nothing but the vague outline of furniture in the dim moonlight. Then, from the bed, she heard voices.

“Give it a while. These things take time.”

It was her father’s voice!

“You don’t think it was a mistake?” her mother asked. “Mary Ann Turner swore by this place, but that performance this evening, well, that was not what I was expecting.”

“Nor I, but I thought we decided this was our last hope. And Dr. Gray’s track record is impressive.”

“I know. You’re right.”

There was a pounding on their front door.

Her mother asked, “Do you think that’s Daphne?”

“Who else?” her father said, climbing out of the bed.

Daphne felt the urge to warn her father, to shout, “It’s not me! Don’t answer it!” but another part of her was glad he would get a dose of his own medicine. A soft giggle escaped her lips.

Her father crossed the room to the door.

Daphne covered her smiling mouth.

Her father opened the door. “Daph?” The light from the porch illuminated him on the stoop in his striped pajamas.

“Trick or treat!” Dave growled before lifting his gun and spraying Daphne’s father with white powder.

“Ahh!” her father shouted with his hands waving in the air.

Before he could close the door, a trio of ghosts entered the room and stood over her mother, where she lay in the bed. They pointed their guns at her and asked, “Are you one of the living or the dead?”

“What?” her father moved between them and her mother. “What’s going on here?”

“You’re one of the dead, Sharon Janus!”  Bridget shouted as they all three shot both of Daphne’s parents with powder. Then the trio of ghosts fled from the room.

But Daphne’s father ran out after them. “What the hell is going on?”

Daphne stepped from the shrub and peered around the building to get a better view.

Cam and the rest of the group circled her father and chanted, “You’re one of the dead. You’re one of the dead. You’re one of the dead,” before her father broke their ring and scrambled back into the room.

Daphne returned to the window to see him close and lock the door, and then, just as Daphne had done her first night on the island, he slid one of the upholstered chairs in front of the door.

Daphne’s mother had climbed from the bed and was trembling in the corner of the room. Daphne could barely see her, for she was in shadows, but occasionally her hands would fly to her face or back down to her stomach, and their trembling was unmistakable.

“I don’t understand,” Sharon said when her husband turned on the light and ran to her.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course. It’s only talcum powder. But what was that all about?”

“I intend to find out.” Her father grabbed the phone on the bedside table and dialed.

Apparently no one answered on the other end, for he all but screamed into the phone, “Dr. Gray, I would appreciate it if you would call me as soon as possible. This is not at all what we signed up for.” Then he slammed the phone back onto its cradle.

Sharon brought Joe a towel from the bathroom and helped him wipe off the powder, as she had already done to her own face and arms.

“It doesn’t come off all that well,” Sharon said. “But it’s only powder. The skin will absorb it, unless you want to take a shower.”

“That can wait until morning,” he said. “Let’s turn on the TV and try to go to bed. Hopefully this nonsense is over.”

“I think we should leave tomorrow, don’t you?” Sharon said as she climbed beneath the covers. “Mary Ann swears by this doctor. Cam thinks she hung the moon. And her track record and credentials are impressive, as you said. But this is too strange for my tastes.”

“Absolutely.” Joe turned off the lamp and climbed beside her where the light from the television bathed them in a purplish hue.

“Do you think they did that to Daphne?” her father asked after a while.

“I hope not,” Sharon replied.

Daphne shook her head thinking,
You have no idea
.

Just then, Cam took her hand and put his finger to his lips. She followed him from her parents’ unit back toward the beach. When they were a safe distance away from her parents’ room, as they climbed the steps of the boardwalk, he asked her, “What did you think?”

“It was hilarious. I could barely hold back my laughter.”

“I know, right? Your dad was hilarious!”

They continued down to the beach out of the light of the boardwalk to where the pale moon cast a subtle glow on the sea.

“Did you hear what my mom said?” Daphne asked. “She wondered if y’all had done that to me. If only she knew!”

They walked along the sand, arm in arm. In spite of her excitement, Daphne still hadn’t decided whether she could forgive Cam, but for now, she basked in the moment.

“She’s about to find out,” Cam said.

“What do you mean?” Daphne stopped in her tracks and studied Cam’s face.

“You enjoyed the game with the ghosts, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Good. Then maybe you’d like to help us with your parents’ games. And Brock’s too.”

“What do you mean?”

“They don’t know it, but they’re going to get therapy, too,” Cam explained.

Daphne’s mouth dropped open. “You mean…therapy like mine?”

“Yeah, but based on their profiles, not yours.”

“Their profiles?” She held her hair from her face and waited for Cam’s explanation.

“Their fears.”

“Are you telling me that Brock and my parents are about to get the crap scared out of them, and I get to help?”

Even behind the white powder and red goo, she could see Cam smile. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

A thrill moved through Daphne. She couldn’t wait to start the new games.

As they turned back toward the boardwalk, a lone figure stood there above them. Beneath the bright lights, Daphne could see it was Hortense Gray. The doctor raised a hand, more like a “Heil, Hitler” than a wave. Daphne and Cam lifted their hands and waved. Although she still wasn’t sure how she felt about the doctor’s strange therapy, Daphne had to admit she had never felt more alive than she did right at that moment.

THE END

Please enjoy the first chapter of the second book of The Purgatorium Series,
Gray’s Domain
:

Chapter One: Ghosts

Daphne Janus left her unit at Santa Cruz Island Resort, crept past the abandoned pool glowing in the darkness, and made her way down the sidewalk beyond the other cabanas. The wind blew heavily tonight, and she pulled the hoodie further down over her eyes—not because it was cold out, but because she did not want her bald head exposed. She stifled a giggle as she reached Brock’s unit and knocked on the door.

The door opened, and there was Brock, in a white t-shirt and boxers and with mussed up hair and puffy eyes. “Daph?”

“I’m scared. Can I come in?”

He blinked. “Of course.”

He opened the door wider, and she slipped by, trying not to laugh.

“I’m surprised you’re talking to me.” He ran a hand through his dark, unruly hair, which only further reminded her that her own was gone.

But enough self-pity. He looked sexy with bedhead and sleepy blue eyes. She fought the urge to kiss him.

“I heard strange noises outside my room,” she said. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

He placed his hand over his heart, like he was about to recite
The Pledge of Allegiance
. “Does this mean you forgive me?”

Absolutely not, she thought. “I think so.”

He stepped closer and touched his lips to hers. His lips were soft and thick and felt good, but the memory of what he’d done to her over the past couple of days, making her believe he was on her side, brought the clarity she needed to resist. She bit down hard on his bottom lip.

“Ow!” He flinched back, hands rushing to his mouth. “I guess I deserved that.”

And so much more, she thought.
But don’t worry. Payback is coming.

“I’m sorry.” She sat on the edge of the bed and stared at her lap. “I have mixed feelings about everything. I know you were only trying to help, but...”