Sarah Benadine is Dead

Chapter XXII, Part III

"Holy smokes," Caleb said.

"Yeah," Allison agreed.

"You guys okay?" Ginger called. Shannon looked over; Ginger's clothes were spattered with dust and her face was ashen.

"Fine," Shannon responded. Her head felt light. The whole thing had gone so fast; it seemed...anticlimactic. She and Allison were still holding the stake between them. Shannon wondered vaguely if she'd be able to uncurl her fingers from around the wood.

"It's...we did it," Allison said in shock. "We actually did it."

Allison stared at the empty coffin-box, mouth hanging open, eyes wide. Shannon was surprised to see that she was trembling.

"Allison—" she began.

"What was that?" Ollie asked, suddenly stick straight, looking around anxiously. The candles cast shadows across her face, creating a ghastly illusion.

"What?" Dexter asked.

Ollie held up one finger, her nose in the air like she was trying to identify a scent, and then a resounding scream came from somewhere in one of the tunnels branching off from the room. Shannon gasped, the sound ringing again and again in her ears. She had heard that noise once before. Panicked, she looked down at her right hand.

"Who does it want?" she cried. Her hand was blank.

"What?" Allison asked.

"It's—it's a Follower," Shannon said rapidly. "Who is it after? Oh God, we gotta get out of here."

"A Follower?" Ginger asked, her voice shooting into the stratosphere as she said the last syllable. "Are—are you sure? Why is it here?"

"It's a Follower, and it's here," Shannon said firmly.

"But—what—who?" Allison asked brokenly, bringing her right hand up in front of her face. She turned her palm out to Shannon for good measure. There was nothing there.

"We have to go," Shannon said forcefully, smacking Allison's hand away. Down one of the long, dark tunnels, she could hear footfalls.

"Holy smokes," Caleb said. Shannon followed his gaze, and all the air left the room.

There it was, just like Shannon had seen the night of Sarah Benadine's memorial, now seeming entire eternities ago. Pale white, impossibly tall, six-fingered, the Follower appeared from one of the tunnels. Its teeth were bared, showing off every crack and every chip. Nausea swept over Shannon as she looked at it; in one of the Follower's cavern-like eyes, there was a ragged black hole, like something had been thrust into it.

Something like a tree branch.

Next to her, Allison pulled something out of her pocket. Only as it was soaring through the air did Shannon realize what it was: a yo-yo. It hit the Follower squarely in the face.

"A yo-yo?!" Shannon cried.

"No time," Allison said. "Run!"

With a hoarse bellow of rage, the thing charged. Shannon took off, not paying attention to where she was going. She was only focused on getting away from the creature. Someone caught hold of her hand; in the chaos, she couldn't be sure who it was. She felt herself being drug towards one of the tunnels. She could no longer remember which one they had come from. They all looked the same. Someone came up behind her and pushed her on.