Chapter 5

I woke up to remarkably more light than I had expected. I blinked up at the illuminated ceiling. I tried to touch my head, but I found that my hands and feet were bound by the rope from my backpack.

"It really was nice of you, Suze, to bring along so many handy tools," Paul said from only a few feet away. I tried to sit up, but I failed. I heard Paul get up and walk over to me. He stood above me, looking supremely pleased with my helpless state. He grinned. "It will make all of this so much easier." Then, he reached down and pulled me up into a sitting position. "There you are."

Gritting my teeth, I glanced around the room. The light that I had noticed came from the dozen or so candles that Paul had set out. I saw in an instant what he had used to knock me out: a long length of wood lay off to the side.

Paul resumed his seat against the wall. He smiled at me. He toyed with something in his hand. My pocketknife. I tried to fight against the ropes but I couldn't, they were too tight. Paul laughed at my attempts. "Suze, you're really only making things harder on yourself."

I took a deep breath. This wasn't the time to fight. Not yet, anyway. "You were going to tell me something," I said tersely. Paul nodded. "Yes. I think that it's only fair that I tell you what you want to hear." He stood, then turned to face me. "You and I, as you know, are able to converse with the dead. But we're not do-gooders like the priest and my brother." He leaned forward, smiling. "You and I, Suze, we can control them. We can make them do whatever we want, and they can't fight us." His smile broadened as my eyes widened at this news. "We can send them on without any of that exorcism crap."

I swallowed hard. "You're lying," I said weakly, though even as I said it I knew Paul was telling the truth. There was a proud glint in his eye that made me believe every word.

Paul laughed. "You know I'm not, Suze."

"Is that what you did to Jesse?" I asked, glaring up at him. I wished that he would sit down, because when he stood, he was very intimidating-which was more than likely what he wanted. "Did you send him on to Heaven or whatever?" My stomach churned as I waited for him to answer.

"No, not yet," he said, sauntering to the center of the candles that he'd set out. The flames cast an eerie glow on him. "But I'm sure you'll be thrilled to know that he's been trying very hard to get back to you. That is, until I made him stop." He crossed the floor to me again and squatted down in front of me. "Call him."

I blinked at him. "What?"

Paul grabbed my chin and tilted it up to look right into his eyes. "Call him." He said this in a voice that made me jerk, like my body was fighting to do what he said. My mouth was even open before I realized what he was doing. He was trying to control me. Except I wasn't a ghost. Which was probably the only reason I didn't do it. At least not right away.

But then Paul grabbed me by the shoulders, the fire in his eyes spreading to the rest of his face. "Call him!"

My body jerked in response to his command. I tried hard to resist him but he was too powerful.

"Jesse," I croaked. My voice didn't feel like my own. I felt like a puppet, and Paul was the puppet master. The cruel, evil puppet master.

And Jesse came. He appeared behind Paul, looking surprised to be there. Then he saw me. "Susannah!" He started toward me.

"Stop!"

Paul's command hit Jesse differently than it did to me. Jesse didn't jerk in resistance; he just stopped where he was, like his feet were glued to the floor. He glared at Paul with pure hatred that I had never seen in him before. His clenched and unclenched his fists. He looked at me, and I swear I caught a glimpse of fear in his eyes.

Paul laughed. "This is beautiful," he murmured. He patted my cheek and stood up. Looking at Jesse, his smile slowly widened. "Now comes the interesting part." Paul looked at me almost pityingly, which made me really mad. I hate it when people look at me like they feel bad for me.

"Just remember, Suze," Paul said. "You brought all of this on yourself." Then he turned back to Jesse, speaking in the same voice he had used before, "Kill her."

Jesse walked toward me, closing the gap between us in an instant. I could see in his face, though, that he was trying to fight Paul. But he couldn't. He squatted before me, just as Paul had done, and wrapped his hands around my neck. I twisted away, but Jesse grabbed me roughly and wrapped his hands around my neck again.

"Jesse," I gasped as he tightened his grip. "You don't have to do this. Fight him!"

"He can't!" Paul crowed from his place behind Jesse. "He can't do a thing."

I gasped for air. I was helpless-Jesse, even when he wasn't under Paul's control, was stronger than I was. And it didn't help any that my hands and feet were tied together.

Jesse gritted his teeth, even as his fists tightened. "Susannah," he hissed through his teeth. "Tell me to stop."

It took me a minute to realize what he meant. He was talking about my "gift." But he didn't understand. I wasn't as powerful as Paul was.

Jesse leaned closer. "Do it," he said quietly.

"Stop." I squeaked. Everything was starting get very fuzzy. My eyes fluttered.

But just as I was sure I was going to die, Jesse let go of me. I slumped back, gasping for air. And then, I thought of one last command to give to Jesse. "Don't listen to anything he tells you to do!" I said as loudly as I could, trying to mimic Paul's tone.

Jesse only smiled at me, then turned and started toward Paul.

Paul wasn't standing where I'd last seen him. Instead, he was standing at the center of the candles, holding one of them in the air with one hand, the long slab of wood that he'd used to hit me in the other. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he warned.

I looked around frantically, trying to find someway to stop Paul. If I didn't do something, he'd set the old warehouse on fire. And considering the condition it was in, it was going to go up in a moment.

I spotted my pocketknife, which Paul had apparently dropped, no more than a dozen feet away. The only problem was, I couldn't exactly get up and walk over to it. So I had to army crawl across the dirty floor-and let me tell you: dust and dirt show up on black. I wasn't exactly looking my very best right then-to the knife. Behind me, I heard Jesse and Paul fighting.

I finally grabbed onto the knife as best I could, then went about the difficult task of cutting the ropes. As it turns out, it's not like in the movies, where you can just cut the ropes easily. Oh, no, I was only halfway through the ropes around my wrists when I looked up and saw that Paul wasn't holding the slab of wood or the candle anymore.

Instead, he had lit the wood and dropped it to the warehouse floor. The fire was spreading. In their struggle, Paul and Jesse had managed to knock over all but one of the candles. Smoke was starting to billow up around me. I tried to hurry with cutting the ropes, but I only managed to free one hand.

That's because just then, one of the boards that held up the now crumbling warehouse struck me in the back of the head before I even had the chance to look up.