Eighth Grave After Dark

“We need the rope,” Denise called.

“I’m getting it ready,” Reyes said.

“Got the board,” Osh said as he ran up.

He put a wide board across the opening. “What’s that for?” I asked. “It will just break like the ones before.”

“Not this one,” he said. “It’s from your kitchen table.”

“Oh, okay, that might work.” I doubled over and clenched my fists so hard, my fingernails pierced the flesh on my palms. “There’s so much pressure,” I told Denise. “I feel like I have to push.”

“Okay, sweetheart.” She eased me back and reached between my legs to check again. “You’re ready. If you have to push, push.”

“But they can pull us out now.”

She shook her head. “It’s too late. We are going to have to do this here.”

I glared at her. “I don’t want my baby born in a well,” I gritted out.

“I know,” she said as I pushed with all my might. I couldn’t not.

She instructed me on how to do it. Push to the count of ten, then rest. Push to the count of ten, then rest. It occurred to me that she hadn’t done this in a very long time. They might have changed things since her day. Maybe babies were born differently now. Maybe ten was no longer the magic number. But I couldn’t argue with her. I could barely speak through the labor.

She rubbed my back until it was over and I could take a breath; then she listened for Beep’s heartbeat again.

“I need the rope!” she screamed; then she shoved me back against the wall, wedged her palms against my lower abdomen, and pushed up.

I cried out in pain and tried to get her off me.

She said something I didn’t comprehend; then she did it. Again. For the third time in my life, she slapped me.

My temper flared and the ground shook beneath us, causing dirt to fall on our heads. It didn’t faze her.

“Look at me,” she said, her face inches from mine. “Beep is in trouble. If you push, she could suffocate.”

Alarm sobered me instantly.

“I lost her heartbeat for a few seconds. The cord could be wrapped around her throat. You may have to have a C-section.”

“We can’t leave the grounds,” I said, my agony ripping a sob from the deepest core of my being. “She’ll be in danger.”

“Charley, she already is. I don’t understand.”

“There are—” I stopped as another sob shook through me, my horror was so great. “There are beings who want her dead. Huge supernatural beings with large razor-sharp teeth and claws the size of Pittsburgh. They’ll kill her the minute we step off this ground.”

She gaped at me as though I were a child telling a tall tale. In her eyes, I could see the instinctive desire to chastise me for being ridiculous—then understanding dawned. “Charley, are you serious?”

“Trust me, I wish I weren’t.”

For a long while, she sat stunned, at an utter loss for what to do. My muscles seized again. She coached me through it again, pushed my abdomen to keep the umbilical cord from strangling my daughter. As painful as that felt, I could only be grateful. Then it hit her as I tried to catch my breath and get comfortable, both of which were impossible.

She nodded and straightened. “Lean back,” she said, all business.

I sat on my heels, my knees spread as far as they could be in the cramped quarters.

She squatted down and perched elbows between my knees. “I’m going to reach in and loop the cord over her head. I’ll have to push her back a little to do it. This is going to hurt, Charley.”

“I’ve been hurt before,” I said, determined to do anything it took.

Then Reyes was there, his incorporeal form scalding, the sensation welcome until he reached around me from behind and held me to the prickly wall of the well, forcing me back so Denise could do what was needed. She reached inside me and ripped me in two from the inside out.

I screamed, long and loud and guttural, as Reyes pinned my shoulders against the well wall. I clawed at his arms, but he was the only thing keeping me from doubling over as my stepmother pushed Beep back up and then searched for the cord. The sheet beneath us was covered in blood, as were my legs. And my shirt. And pretty much everything around me.

Another spasm hit just as she said, “I think I got it. I think she’s in the clear.” She listened for the heartbeat again with the stethoscope as Reyes kept his hold tight, this time monitoring the entire time I pushed. I grabbed a handful of his hair and gave it my all.

She sighed in relief. “I think she’s okay. We can do this, Charley.”

I heard the Native American man argue with Osh and Garrett. He was going to call an ambulance, but they insisted one was already on the way. They’d lied, but they had to hold him off.

“You’re tearing, but I can’t do anything about it down here.”

“It’s okay,” I said, my entire body slick with sweat. “It’s coming again.”

“You can do this, sweetheart,” she said.

I nodded and pushed when the spasm hit. I felt myself splitting as Beep’s head passed through.

“Okay, stop pushing!” she said, taking one of the sheets and working on Beep. Then she took a sucky thing out of the bag. Though I couldn’t see what she was doing, I heard a soft wail of annoyance waft up to me, and I let my head loll back against Reyes’s shoulder. But Beep was still halfway in me, though, and I really needed to push. I fought the urge with all my strength.