Page 18 of Medium
RORY
Garfieldand the blonde ghost reappeared. “This is Mercy.” Garfield gestured at his companion. “She was in the box before me.” I was still digesting that when he went on. “The way’s clear. I fried the cameras while Chamberlain and the other guy were in the room. It’ll freak ‘em out when they look at the footage later. Let’s go.”
I’d deal with Uncle Hugo after the girl was safe.
I hurried to follow Garfield and Mercy, Grandfather muttering to himself behind me. “Later,” I hissed at him.
He huffed but fell silent.
At the end of yet another hallway, Garfield pointed at a closed door. It had a keypad lock.
“4321,” Mercy supplied helpfully.
I rolled my eyes at the idiocy of middle-aged rich guys and punched in the numbers.
The door swung open, and my heart broke.
Other than a floor drain and a rubber hose on a reel in the corner, the room was empty except for a clear Plexiglass box,about five feet wide and three feet deep. It was taller than I was, and it sat on four wheels. The young girl inside stood facing me. She was emaciated, her bones prominent. Her skin reminded me of a dying leaf, all brown with yellow spots, and her hair looked like withered vines. She was wearing what was probably a sleep outfit, blue tie-dye shorts and a matching tank top with a drawing of a shark on it.
The only other items in the box with her were a covered bucket, a bowl of water, and a plate containing an uneaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
A ghost, a stunning woman with long greenish-brown hair and bark-like patches here and there on her skin, stood outside the box. When I stepped inside the room, she bared her teeth at me, and the girl inside did the same. Their teeth were noticeably sharp.
Garfield held up a hand. “Lorraine, this is the Medium. He’s here to help.”
I waved a hand awkwardly. “I’m Rory. I’m here to get you out. Um.” I spun around. “Where’s the key?”
Lorraine said, “It’s not locked from the outside. Just flip the latch. There’s no way to open it from the inside.” She clenched her fists and floated to my side. “I can’t manifest enough to flip the latch myself.”
I nodded, stripping my jacket off. “I understand.” The girl must’ve thought I was talking to myself. I was used to it. “I’m a friend of your mom’s.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t speak.
Oh, shit. “Um, what’s your name?” I could’ve slapped myself. Way to destroy my credibility. The girl glared harder, so I looked pleadingly at Lorraine.
“Her name’s Pia.”
“Pia. Right.” Pia held her hands up, and fucking thorns popped out of her skin all up and down her arms and legs and across her forehead. Shit, I was doing the best I could. “Okay, I’m going to open this door, and let you out, but I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t attack me.”
She didn’t move.
I twisted the latch, and two-thirds of the front panel swung open. She moved then, scrabbling back into the farthest corner of the box. She pulled her lips back, and her teeth seemed even longer and sharper.
I crouched down and held out my jacket. “I’m a Medium. It means I talk to ghosts. Your mom, uh, she’s a ghost now.” Pia’s eyes went wide. “Uh, she’s fine. She’s just worried about you. She sent some of her ghost friends to find me so I could get you out of here.”
She stayed right where she was.
I looked at Lorraine. “What’s something only you and Pia would know?”
Lorraine closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them. “When Pia was six years old the cherry tree in the park was hit by lightning. She and I were in the tree for days helping it heal.”
“Got it.” I turned to Pia. “Your mom told me how when you were six, the cherry tree in the park got hit by lighting and the two of you spent days helping it get better.”
“Mama?” Pia clapped her hands over her mouth, and her eyes filled with tears.
“She’s here.” I held my coat out to her again. “I hate to hurry you, but we really need to leave before that jerk who put you in here comes back.”
Slowly she reached out and took the jacket, and the thorns subsided back into her skin. She put the jacket on, but she looked unsteady on her feet.
