Grave Girl (22 page)

Chapter Three

"The first thing you need to know," Faraday says, sitting at the kitchen table while Sam sips from a cup of tea, "is that this is no ordinary cemetery."

"No kidding," Sam replies firmly, glancing over at the window and seeing that Anna and Sparky are still watching. Although she feels as if she's in some kind of hyper-reality where nothing makes sense, she's also worried that she might be losing her mind. She fears that, at any moment, paramedics will break the door down and wrap a sleeveless jacket around her torso before carting her off to the nearest asylum.

"The cemetery at Rippon," Faraday continues, "in fact the whole town, was built on top of another cemetery, or rather a grave. Now, that might seem like a rather strange thing for someone to do, but it made sense at the time. After all, where better to hide one cemetery than directly beneath another? If you think about it, you can just about see the logic. Many thousands of years ago, someone very important was buried here, someone whose body had to remain hidden at all costs, and it was decided to use all possible methods in order to keep him hidden. The original gardeners were a clan of highly-trained warriors from -"

"Warriors?" Sam asks, interrupting him. "Like, carrying rakes and shovels?"

"The term evolved over time," Faraday continues. "Modern gardeners, at least for the past century or so, have mostly been peace-loving men who tend the cemetery and merely keep an eye on any unusual activity that occurs. As I'm sure you've noticed, certain aspects of Rippon's nature mean that there's a tendency for unusual events to take place. The dead, for example, have a habit of rising from their graves."

"And stone angels come to life," Sam replies, glancing over at the window and seeing Sparky still staring through the glass.

"Martello was one of the finest gardeners this cemetery ever had," Faraday says.

"Martello?" Sam pauses for a moment. "His name's Sparky. I didn't know he used to be a gardener."

"We all end up the same way eventually," Faraday explains. "It's the fate of all gardeners in Rippon. When our work is done, we remain part of the vigil until we're needed."

"Hang on," Sam replies, "are you seriously suggesting that all the stone statues in the cemetery are former gardeners?"

"It's a noble fate," Faraday says. "All of us, once we assume the role of gardener, are set on an unbending path toward a final ascension that -"

"Hold on," Sam replies. "I didn't
assume
any role. I just turned up for a job. I thought I was supposed to mow the grass, cut the hedges, maybe dig a grave or two, and nothing else. All this stuff about dead bodies and stone angels is kinda new, and it definitely wasn't in the job description."

"Would you have taken the job if you'd known?" Faraday asks.

"What do
you
think?"

"It doesn't matter anyway," Faraday continues. "You're here now. The angels have been waiting, and now that wait is nearly over. The beast is stirring beneath the surface, and I'm not sure anything can be done to make him stay asleep. It was always clear that one day this moment would arrive, but I'd hoped we could put it off for as long as possible. As it turns out, I was wrong, but..." His voice trails off, and for a moment he seems lost in thought. "The Devil is buried here, Sam. Deep, deep beneath this cemetery, there's another grave, and the Devil himself is down there. He's not dead, but he's asleep, and he needs to stay that way. If he wakes, it's not just Rippon that'll be in danger. It's the whole world."

"The Devil?" Sam replies, raising an eyebrow. "Like... a big, red guy with horns and a tail?"

"More or less," Faraday says. "No-one knows what he really looks like, of course. It's been a long, long time since he was placed down there, and only Death himself remembers the occasion. The first gardener is probably the only other person who was there at the time, and he doesn't talk much these days. You know that crumbling old statue over by the gate?"

"The one where the face has fallen off?"

Faraday nods. "That's the first gardener. I've tried talking to him, but he just sits there, not replying."

"It's probably difficult to talk when you don't have a face," Sam points out.

"It's more than that," Faraday says. "He's taken a vow of silence. He's ancient, and whatever he's seen, he clearly doesn't want to talk about it. I'm afraid that's one of the things that comes with experience, Sam. When we're young, we gabble on about every insignificant little thing. Later, as we get older and we go through more important moments, we become less keen on discussing the minutiae of our lives."

Smiling awkwardly, Sam glances over at the window and sees Sparky still watching from outside.

"I'm not gonna end up like that, am I?" she asks after a moment. "I mean, I'm not gonna be stone, am I?" She turns back to Faraday. "You're not stone."

"I ran," Faraday replies, "but I can't run forever." Taking hold of the sleeve of his jacket, he pulls it back to reveal that the skin on his left arm has turned a kind of rough, mottled gray color. "I can't hold it back forever," he continues. "The process is inevitable. It starts in each of us as soon as we take on the job." Pausing for a moment, he smiles as he observes the look of shock on Sam's face. "Why? Did dear old Mayor Winters not mention that part of the job?"

Instead of replying, Sam gets up and walks over to the other side of the kitchen. Reaching into one of the cupboards, she pulls out the bottle of wine she's been hiding from since she arrived.

"That's a bad idea," Faraday says quickly. "You need a clear head."

"I was just going to offer you some," she replies, setting the bottle down on the kitchen table. "I figured maybe..." She pauses as she realizes that there's no point pretending; she
was
going to take a glass, and she
was
planning to finish the entire bottle. "So what's the point of all this?" she asks eventually. "Even if I believe everything you've told me, what do you expect me to do about it? Don't take this the wrong way, but it doesn't seem like you've got some kind of huge plan."

"I don't," Faraday says. "Dark forces are gathering in Rippon, Sam, and we need them to make their first move. They have to show their hand. I'm sure some of them are prepared for this moment. Of course, most of them are just dumb creatures, but I'm sure a few of them have stronger minds. They'll be coming up with plans, and you can be certain that they'll strike eventually."

"And then what do we do? Swing into action?"

"We'll have to come up with a plan on the fly," Faraday continues. "We'll have to react to whatever
they
do. The most important thing is to make sure that the beast doesn't wake up. If he starts to climb out of his grave, there's nothing we can do and the world will be lost."

"When you say that there are dark forces," Sam continues, "what do you mean? Like..." She waits for a response. "What are we dealing with here?"

"Creatures of the night," Faraday replies. "Any dark-hearted creature within a hundred miles is going to be attracted to this place right now, but they won't actually be able to get through the gate. Hallowed ground is still hallowed ground, no matter who's buried here. The people of Rippon might not be going to have a very good time, but we're actually safe as long as we stay in the cemetery itself."

"Until Satan comes bursting up from below," Sam points out.

"Well, yes," Faraday says, with a faraway look in his eyes. "That might be a problem. But one thing's for sure. Something's going to happen, Sam. Whoever wins or loses, you're the last gardener." He pauses for a moment. "If there's no gardener, how can there be a garden? And anyway..."

Sam waits for him to finish.

"Perhaps I should show you," Faraday continues eventually. "Words are one thing, but it's quite another for you to actually see what's happening, with your own eyes." Standing up, he walks over to the door, before glancing back at her. "Follow me, and I'll show you incontrovertible proof that the Devil is here. As a bonus, I'll also tell you why you can't run away."

Chapter Four

Placing his hand on the ground for a moment, Fenroc waits until he feels the tell-tale rumble. This is a ritual he completes every night, mainly for his own satisfaction but also because it comforts him. He knows that, logically, there's no way the rumble could ever stop, but it still pleases him to feel it for himself. Sometimes, when he's feeling particularly nostalgic, he even closes his eyes and imagines the force that exists far beneath the streets of Rippon.

Sighing, he stands up straight and pauses to straighten his tie. He's usually a rational man who prides himself on not getting easily riled, but right now he can't stop thinking about the fact that he spent so long sitting alone in the restaurant. It must have been patently obvious to the staff and the other diners that he was waiting for someone, and consequently that he'd been stood up. In other words, he feels he was embarrassed this evening, and he can't shake the need to make someone pay. He knows, however, that taking his frustration out on Sam is out of the question.

At least for now.

Walking through the dark streets, he eventually reaches the highest spot in the whole town. Looking out at the distant horizon, he realizes after a moment that he can see them. Gathered far away, barely visible in the darkness, demons are waiting for Rippon to surrender its prize. Of course, they can't do a thing without Fenroc's help, which means that he can afford a brief smile as he considers the fact that, ultimately, he holds all the cards. The beast will continue to sleep until Fenroc himself is ready for things to change. Not a moment sooner, and not a moment later.

Reaching into his pocket, he takes out the small vial of holy water he recovered from the church. Not that it's still
holy
water, of course. By now, the change will have started, and he's certain than in less than twenty-four hours the water will be ready for its true purpose.

Finally, putting the vial back in his pocket, he makes his way toward the cemetery. He knows this is crazy, but he feels that he has to confront Sam and at least make her see that she was wrong to leave him sitting like an idiot in the restaurant. If there's one thing in the world that Fenroc hates, it's disrespect. One way or another, he's determined to make Sam apologize. If she refuses, he's going to give her a damn good reason to change her mind.

Chapter Five

"We all have secrets," Faraday says as he leads Sam through to the cottage's tiny, cramped bathroom. "There's not a soul who ever lived who didn't have something to keep hidden. Some people have big secrets, others have tiny ones, but everyone has the damn things. And sometimes, even an inanimate object can have a secret. Like a building, for example."

"Okay," Sam replies, making sure to remain by the door while Faraday kneels on the bathroom floor and pulls the mat aside. "So you've brought me into the bathroom to show me
your
secret, have you? 'Cause that's a bit weird..."

"Not
my
secret," Faraday says as he starts ripping up the linoleum that covers the floor. Seconds later, a large wooden hatch is revealed beneath the surface. "The cottage's secret. And, in a way, the secret of Rippon itself."

"There's a hidden hatch in my bathroom?" Sam asks, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not sure I like that."

"The others would all have heart attacks if they knew I was showing you this," Faraday continues as he starts pulling the heavy hatch to one side. "Then again, they'd all have heart attacks if they knew someone had ever shown it to
me
, so I guess the damage has already been done." Pausing for a moment, he stares at Sam. "Do you have a secret, Ms. Marker?"

"Me?"

There's an awkward pause.

"I used to be a bit of a drunk," she says eventually. "It's not exactly a secret, though..."

"Nothing else?"

"Like what?" She feels her mouth becoming a little dry, and there's something she definitely doesn't like about the way Faraday is staring at her. "So," she says, trying to change the subject, "are we gonna see what's under the bathroom, or what?"

"No secret can be hidden forever," Faraday continues, sitting on the edge of the open hatch and starting to climb down a set of rickety wooden stairs. "Intentionally or not, when we try to put something away, we always leave a path straight back to its heart. Come on. We don't have much time."

Once Faraday has disappeared down into the space beneath the bathroom, Sam finds herself standing alone for a moment, wondering if maybe she could just turn and run. She figures she could even close the hatch and trap Faraday underground, at least for long enough to let her get away. She's still determined to get the hell out of Rippon, but she can't deny that she's curious about what, exactly, is hidden beneath the town. Taking a step closer to the hatch, she peers into the darkness and sees the faint orange glow of a distant subterranean torch.

"Are you coming?" Faraday calls back to her.

"Sure," she mutters, sitting on the edge of the opening and lowering herself down onto the steps.

"Tread carefully," Faraday says from below. "This isn't exactly a tourist trail, so there aren't any railings."

"Railings?" Sam asks as she starts making her way down the steps. "Why would -

Suddenly she stops dead as she sees that on one side of the steps, there's a huge drop into a dark void. It's almost as if the entire town of Rippon is sitting on top of a massive hollowed-out chamber.

"Why are you dawdling?" Faraday calls up to her, having already made it a fair distance down into the darkness. "Remember to be careful, but for God's sake keep up. This isn't a walk in the park, you know."

Although she feels certain that a sane person would turn back, Sam decides to keep going. Stepping carefully and keeping as far from the precipice as possible, she follows the glow of Faraday's torch and eventually reaches a platform several hundred meters below the cottage. A small rocky outcrop, the platform is barely big enough for both her and Faraday to stand, and despite having never previously felt scared of heights, Sam can't help experiencing a kind of nervous dizziness as she stares down into the darkness.

"Impressed?" Faraday asks.

"I would be," Sam replies, "if my mind could process it."

"This is a very dangerous place to be," Faraday replies, holding the flaming torch over the edge. "Or, at least, it will be one day, when the beast awakens. This is how he'll come up, you see? He'll rise through the void and burst out in the middle of the town."

Taking a deep breath, Sam tries to take stock of the whole situation. She's always felt that Rippon is an unusual place, perched on top of a small hill that sits in the middle of mile upon mile of flat land. It has never occurred to her, though, that this hill might actually be a massive burial mound.

"Why?" she asks eventually. "Why the hell would anyone build a town on top of... this?"

"Humans are weird creatures," Faraday replies. "Originally, this was an isolated place, but over time humans were drawn here. Earlier gardeners were supposed to keep them away, but the cult died out for a while and by the time reinforcements arrived, a couple of hundred humans had built their homes here. From what I hear, there was a right old fuss about the whole thing, but eventually it was decided to let the town stay and serve as a kind of distraction. Some of the old gardeners even believed that the sounds of life might soothe the beast and keep it sleeping, like a kind of lullaby."

"And this beast," Sam says. "He'd be... where?"

"Right below you," Faraday says. "At the bottom of the pit. Buried so deep, it was hoped he'd never rise again. Unfortunately, as you've undoubtedly noticed, certain... things... have begun to happen. Stirrings and so on. No-one's been down there to check, but it seems the beast is moving. He might not be awake yet, but his slumber is coming to an end, and when he finally wakes, he's going to be angry."

"No way," Sam says, taking a step back. "This is all bullshit. I admit, this big cave thing is kind of impressive, and you're a pretty good showman, but there's no way the Devil..." She stares down into the darkness for a moment, trying to imagine a great beast sleeping at the bottom. "Why?" she asks eventually. "And how? And when? And who? And... Who the hell would even think for a second that this could be a good idea?"

"At the bottom of this pit," Faraday replies, "rests the greatest evil that has ever existed. Where else would you put it? At least here, no-one thought to look for it, and the gardeners, at least in their original forms, were a highly effective guarding unit. I have no doubt that our distant predecessors could have defended this site against all forms of attack. Unfortunately, over time, the nature and status of the gardeners changed, until..." He turns to Sam. "Well, let's just say that when the gardeners were put in charge of this place, I don't think the plan was for people like us to end up in charge. And eventually, the real threat emerged from within our own ranks."

"So let's just get out of here," Sam says. "We blatantly can't do anything to deal with this problem, so let's get the hell away, evacuate the town, and call the army."

"You want this kind of force to be possessed by the government?" Faraday asks. "By
any
government? The history of humanity is dark and filled with greed, Ms. Marker. Governments would seek to profit from the beast. They'd send teams down into the depths. They'd wake the creature and attempt to strike bargains. They'd try to manipulate and control the beast, and in turn they'd end up bringing about the end of the world." He pauses for a moment. "I can't see into the future, Ms. Marker, but there's one thing I can tell you with absolute certainty. When the world
does
finally end, this is where the process will begin. The whole town of Rippon will be ripped away and the beast will emerge with fire in its eyes."

"Can't we kill it?" Sam asks.

"Sure. Off you go. Head down there and kill the Devil. But make sure you don't wake him up in the process."

Taking a deep breath, Sam tries to work out what to do next. Although Faraday's claims seem almost impossible to believe, she can't shake the feeling that Rippon seems to be the kind of place where impossible things actually happen. Barring the possibility that she might be hallucinating this whole experience from a hospital bed, having suffered some kind of head injury, Sam has to acknowledge that she genuinely
does
seem to be standing on a platform overlooking the Devil's grave.

"Okay," she says eventually. "You've persuaded me. The Devil's down there. But I don't see why I have to stick around. I mean, I can just leave, can't I?"

"When the last gardener leaves," Faraday replies, "the garden will go untended. When the garden goes untended, chaos will reign. Not just here, but all over the world."

"So get another gardener!"

"You're the last," Faraday continues. "Of that, there can be no doubt. All the angels are agreed that you're the one. Death himself has noticed."

"Convenient, huh?" Sam replies. "No way. I'm not gonna be tied to this place by some bullshit about me being the last gardener. I came here by accident!"

"You were guided here."

"No, I answered an advert! It was totally a spur of the moment thing! I could just as easily have ended up working behind the counter of a fast food place, or in a coffee shop, or an office, or -"

"But you didn't," Faraday says firmly. "You ended up here. All the lines of fate came together and delivered you to Rippon. The right person at the right place at the right time. You might not have felt it before, Ms. Marker, but all your life there's been a guiding hand that's been pushing you to make the choices that led you here. Call it destiny, call it whatever you want, but it's the truth. And if you have any doubts, just think back to that final moment before you left home. Think back to the final face you saw -"

"Stop," Sam says, her voice filled with simmering anger. "You're getting into stuff you really don't understand."

"I know what happened," he continues. "I know what you left behind in your wake when you ran away. The damage. The fear. The loneliness. Tell me, Ms. Marker. Do you consider yourself to be a good person?"

Sam opens her mouth to reply, but no words come out.

"Or do you consider yourself to be a sinner? Beyond redemption, even?" Faraday pauses. "Wouldn't you like a
chance
to redeem yourself? You've already made one awful mistake in your life, Ms. Marker, and you've spent every subsequent day thinking that you're a monster. However, you still have a chance to make things right. You can prove to yourself, and to the world, and to the person you hurt, that you're a good person."

"This isn't fair," Sam says, with tears rolling down her cheeks. "You've got no right -"

"I know you love him," Faraday says, interrupting her. "The person you hurt. The person you almost killed. I know you still hope that maybe one day you'll see him again. Wouldn't you like to show him that you're a good person? Wouldn't you like to be able to tell him that you've turned your life around and done something good? Wouldn't you like him to love you again?"

"This isn't fair," Sam says firmly.

"I know a lot about you," Faraday replies. "I know you struggle to keep away from alcohol, and I know why. You tell yourself that you're trying to improve. You tell yourself that you can be a better person, despite everything you've done wrong in your life. And you tell yourself, I suspect, that one day you might actually be worthy to go back and face the one you left behind. Isn't that right, Sam?"

Unable to reply, Sam simply stares at him.

"But you know you'll never reach the point where you feel that you're ready. Your sins are too great, and there's no way you can ever forgive yourself for what you did. Then again, perhaps if you do something truly heroic, something truly important, you might start to see things differently." He pauses. "I hate to be manipulative, Ms. Marker, but on this occasion I believe I'm absolutely correct. If you turn and walk away from this place, from the cemetery and from Rippon, you're effectively admitting that you'll never be a better person. But if you stay and help, there's a chance, just a chance, that one day you might be able to hold your head up high and go back to face the one person you still care about."

There's an awkward silence.

"I know I'm right," Faraday continues. "The question, Ms. Marker, is whether or not
you
know I'm right. Are you going to run away again, or are you going to face up to your responsibilities and maybe even redeem your miserable, wretched soul?"