Adam Slater - Hunted

‘I said that you may be the last living chime child,’ he said slowly. ‘But there are others. Others like me. I too came into this world in the chime hours, but not as one of the living. I was stillborn, dead at the moment of my birth. I am the ghost of a child who never lived, born more than a hundred years ago. I am one of the Born Dead.’

Jacob’s shoulders rose and fell in a silent sigh. ‘Because I never drew breath, I was buried unbaptised, in the unconsecrated plot beyond the yew tree. But my mother named me Jacob. My name is all she gave me.’

‘But if you’re the ghost of a baby, how come you look like you’re our age?’ asked Callum.

‘The Born Dead are given the power to choose their shape,’ explained Jacob. ‘I chose this – the form of the boy I would have grown into had I lived.’

‘You’re bleeding,’ Melissa interrupted faintly.

A line of black blood trickled, glistening, down Jacob’s throat. The ghost frowned, and swiped the blood on to his fingers.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said. ‘I can’t control it. An echo of my birth, perhaps . . .’

Melissa and Callum exchanged horrified glances in the dim light. Jacob held up his hand and the blood slowly faded away.

‘So what does it mean to be one of the Born Dead?’ asked Melissa. ‘I’ve never heard of you before.’

‘We haunt the boundaries between the Netherworld and the realm of the living, belonging neither in one world nor the other. It is a lonely business. When I first found myself to be a waking spirit, I raised this dog’s shade from its grave to be my companion.’ Jacob cast a glance at Doom, crouched by the church door. The great beast seemed unaware his master was talking about him. ‘It caused a deal of upset in the village. No one even knew Nether Marlock had a Church Grim before I summoned the dog’s spirit. But I needed a companion. And a Grim is a formidable foe against the demons of the Netherworld. Doom is my protector, as he protects all the humans buried in this churchyard; and he will protect you, too, if I command it.’

‘But what does this have to do with the Fetch?’ Callum asked.

Jacob turned to look at Callum and Melissa directly. Then he held out his long white hands, palms facing upwards.

‘Touch me,’ Jacob commanded.

Callum and Melissa glanced at each other in alarm.

‘Can we?’ Melissa said. ‘If you’re a ghost, we shouldn’t be able to, right?’

Jacob nodded.

‘Well, there you are,’ she said without conviction.

‘Try.’

Melissa raised her hand tentatively. Then she reached toward Jacob’s palm and laid her hand against it.

‘Oh!’

She jumped as though she’d received a jolt of electricity through her whole body, but she kept her palm held steadily against Jacob’s.

‘Should that happen?’ Melissa whispered.

Jacob looked at Callum, the tilt of his head challenging. He shook the long, black hair out of his face.

‘Go on.’

Callum laid his living hand against the ghost’s dead palm.

It was cold. But Callum could feel it, the shape of it – dry, lifeless skin without any heat of its own. It wasn’t a repellent touch, not clammy or icy, just lifeless, like a handful of dead leaves.

‘How?’ Callum croaked. ‘I’ve never been able to touch a ghost. How are we able to touch you?’

‘Once in a century, this happens.’ Jacob spoke quietly, but his bell-like voice was no less commanding. ‘Once every century, for thirteen months – a year by the moon’s clock – comes a time called the Shadowing.’

Callum’s heart skipped a beat. ‘The Shadowing . . .’

‘You have heard the word before?’ Jacob’s expression was surprised.

‘Not till tonight. My gran mentioned it, but she wouldn’t tell me what it meant. She said it was dangerous.’

Jacob nodded. ‘It is. More dangerous than you can possibly imagine. While the Shadowing lasts, the boundaries of your mortal world and the Netherworld are weakened.’

‘The Netherworld – the world of the dead?’ Melissa asked.

‘Some of the dead dwell in the Netherworld,’ Jacob answered. ‘But they are not its only inhabitants. The Netherworld exists alongside the mortal world; its creatures unseen and invisible to mortal eyes. Not just the spirits of the dead, but also beings of magic and evil. Demons. Monsters. When the boundaries between the worlds are weak, the beings of the Netherworld can cross the border between the worlds and enter the realm you know.’

‘And we can touch,’ Melissa said in wonder.

Jacob nodded. ‘The Shadowing is not upon us yet, but it is close, and as I am a boundary-dweller, it is already affecting me – just as it has been affecting you, Callum.’

‘What does it have to do with me?’ said Callum.

‘Your powers have been given to you for a reason,’ replied Jacob. ‘The power to see the dead, to sense evil, to resist magic. You are a warrior, Callum. You and every other chime child. You are the guardians of the boundary. It is your fate to protect this mortal world from the dark forces that threaten it.’

Callum closed his eyes, blotting out Melissa’s amazed expression. A warrior? How could he be a warrior?

‘But you said this happens every century, the Shadowing,’ he said in a low voice. ‘What’s so different about this time?’

‘This time,’ Jacob said, his voice suddenly fierce, ‘there is a conspiracy. A plot between the demon powers of the Netherworld and the evil-doers of this. The Shadowing has not yet begun – the Fetch could not have crossed into the mortal realm without help from this side. And why is it only killing chime children? A Fetch can take any child, any human, and yet this one is picking and choosing its prey. It is no glutton – it is a gourmet. An assassin. I think the chime children are being singled out for destruction.’

‘And they’re being killed just before the Shadowing begins – just when their protection is most needed,’ Melissa said, understanding flooding her eyes.

Callum dropped his hand from Jacob’s palm.

‘And why do you care?’

Jacob shrugged. ‘I have no wish to exist in a world dominated by evil, any more than you do. My existence is lonely enough as it is.’ Jacob’s pale lips formed the faint, sad smile that made him seem more human.

Callum turned to look at the great shadow of Doom lying in the doorway.

‘You said that Doom protects you.’

‘Yes. And could protect you, too, if you would accept my help. Together, perhaps, we can defeat the Fetch that stalks you.’ Jacob glanced at Melissa, who still held her palm stalwartly against Jacob’s hand.

‘I’ll help too,’ she said.

Jacob nodded. ‘Translator.’

Suddenly angry, Callum glared at Jacob and Melissa. They seemed to have formed a united front, ready to decide his destiny for him. Rage swelled up in his chest.

‘Why is this my fight?’ Callum demanded. ‘I didn’t ask for this. I hate these so-called chime child powers, I’ve always hated them. Why should I use them for anything?’

‘Callum!’ Melissa swung around to face him in surprise.

‘I mean it. Why am I responsible? I just want to be normal. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.’

‘But you aren’t normal, Callum,’ retorted Melissa. ‘You’re special. You have a gift -’

Callum snorted. ‘Some gift. The chance to wage a one-man war against the Netherworld. No thanks.’

Melissa put her hands on her hips. ‘You said you wanted to know what was happening and now you do. The Fetch is here to kill the chime children – all of them. That includes you. Isn’t saving yourself a good enough reason?’

At the very moment Melissa spoke the word ‘yourself’, Callum’s fingers went numb.