Chapter Eight

Bakura was tense as Yami Bakura pulled in at the warehouse alongside the car Mai had taken with Yugi and Atem. Duke pulled in behind them.

"There's Joey's car," Bakura exclaimed. "They really are here!"

"Fools," Yami Bakura grunted. He got out of the van and walked over to the open window. "And I suppose they went through this."

"Most likely." Atem frowned as he came over. "I don't like this."

"It is weird there'd be a window open," Yugi said.

Mai poked it. "You don't suppose they walked into a trap, do you?"

"It's certainly possible. And we have to find them, even if that means we have to walk into it as well." Atem climbed through the window. Everyone else soon joined him.

"Joey!" Serenity called. "Tristan!"

Bakura suddenly tripped over the lid of a crate on the floor. "Oh dear!"

Yami Bakura grabbed his arm as he started to fall. "Those workers don't believe in being neat, do they," he growled.

Yugi bent down to look at the label on the lid. "'Eternal Rest Coffin Company'?!"

Serenity gasped. "Coffins?!"

"Oh great." Mai rolled her eyes. "Joey probably found the contents of that crate and has spent this entire time freaking out about it."

"I wonder if that's another company Mr. Leichter is a supplier for," Atem remarked. "This is supposed to be his warehouse. If he's not the supplier, what are coffins doing in here?"

"I have a bad feeling about this," Yugi said.

They continued to wander through the warehouse, but though they discovered the other parts of the crates, the coffins themselves were nowhere to be found. And, to their grim horror, neither were Joey and Tristan.

"What happened here?" Mai finally asked, coming to a standstill in the middle of the large room. Her frustration and sarcasm had faded, leaving only a woman who was deeply worried about her friends. "They're just completely gone."

"And Joey just isn't answering his phone," Yugi said, pulling his phone away from his ear after two failed attempts.

"And they definitely were here." Yami Bakura reached down, picking up something he had suddenly noticed on the floor.

"Joey's wallet," Serenity said in horror. "No! Where is he?! Where's my brother?! And where's Tristan?!"

Duke pulled her into a hug. "We're going to find them, Serenity. They can't have disappeared into thin air!"

Deeply troubled now, Atem started back for the window. "We're going to have to get everyone together to spread throughout the city and look for them," he said. "And we should also try this Eternal Rest Coffin Company. I know it's not much, but it's the only possible lead we have."

Everyone else trailed after him.

"I'll send a text to everyone," Yugi said, badly shaken.

xxxx

Gansley felt helpless as he and Lector left the manor and got back in the car. Lector practically threw himself into the passenger seat. Relieved that at least he wasn't planning to drive, Gansley put his cane in the back and got behind the wheel.

Driving was about all he could do right now, he thought as he turned the car around and drove down the driveway and through the gates. He was the leader, supposed to look out for all the others, but he honestly had no idea what to say right now. He had had a fairly good relationship with his parents; he couldn't imagine them treating him as Lector was being treated now. And where on Earth was Lector's mother? She hadn't put in one appearance so far.

Gansley had ended up so often thinking of things in terms of business deals, even his own marriage. But even with that cold approach to the relationship, he had cared on some level. He never would have been so unconcerned if his wife was in danger. And he missed his children. He had no idea what they were like or how they had grown up or what his grandchildren even looked like. How could Lector's father be so dismissive and so cold and cruel towards his own flesh and blood?

Both of their phones dinged as a text message came through. Lector took out his and stared at the message. "Mr. Wheeler and Mr. Taylor have both disappeared at my father's warehouse," he exclaimed in disbelief.

"What?!" Gansley cried. "What on Earth were they doing out there?!"

"Apparently they were trying to find out what was actually in those missing crates," Lector said. "And the only clues to the missing boys are crates for the Eternal Rest Coffin Company that are scattered around the room."

"Is that another company your father was supplying?"

"I don't know," Lector said. "Nor do I want to ask him. Let's go directly to the company itself." He tapped the name into the GPS and the directions came up. "I'll let Yugi know that we'll be checking there." He tapped that out in the text, then suddenly realized something else and added that.

You said everyone should spread out across the city to look. I agree.

But stay out of the French Quarter! Leave that to the adults.

Yugi texted back after a moment.

Why? What's wrong?

Lector sighed and elaborated.

During Carnival season, the French Quarter becomes very much adults-only

and there is a great deal of risqué and ribald behavior right out in the street.

I don't want you kids running around there.

There was silence for a moment, then a quick reply.

Thanks, Lector. We'll leave it to you guys. And Atem and Yami Bakura, maybe.

Lector had to smirk a bit. They would probably be useful in a tight spot in the French Quarter.

"What's going on?" Gansley asked.

Lector set the phone back to the GPS program to give the directions to the coffin company. "I was just warning the kids about the French Quarter," he said. "Funny, it just really hit me that we're among the few adults in this group. In the past we tried to take revenge on those kids. Now, I feel responsible for them."

"That is a strange difference," Gansley mused. "I suppose we are responsible for them to some extent."

Lector sighed and leaned wearily against the seat. ". . . My father always tried to keep my oldest sister and me and my brothers out of the French Quarter during Mardi Gras. We were pretty obedient children, actually. But then there was the year my brother Michel was determined to break all the rules and get in there."

"Heh. Kids are like that," Gansley said.

"He also convinced my sister Adele to go with him." Lector tiredly rubbed his eyes. "Phillipe and I didn't want to do it, but we had to go chasing after them to try to bring them back. We ended up on Bourbon Street."

"I doubt that went well," Gansley remarked.

"It didn't," Lector said. "We all saw things not meant for children's eyes. When we got home, of course no one wanted to tell Father what had happened. But we were all acting out of sorts and he quickly realized something was wrong. I finally admitted the whole truth about it. He was angry, but he didn't punish me or Phillipe since we had only gone there trying to stop the others. We really couldn't have gone to get Father to go after them, since by then they would have been lost." He stared out at the dark night. "Father was fair then."

"I'm sorry," Gansley said quietly.

"So am I," Lector said. "I don't feel lost, because I know I still have a family. And yet . . . I know I've lost something very precious to me."

"I felt the same when my wife took the children and walked out of my life," Gansley told him. "She divorced me and I haven't seen them since."

"You didn't have visitation rights?" Lector said in surprise.

"I did, but she moved too far away for me to see them. Then she changed their names and I never was able to locate them, even with all my resources." Gansley sighed. "However, in my case I know I was partially at fault for considering the marriage a business decision. In your case, you didn't do anything that should have caused your father to turn against you."

"If he really is a thief, then he's a hypocrite to disown me for what I did," Lector said bitterly. "Although I realize my actions were terrible." He looked at his friend with surprised sadness. "Just considering the marriage a business decision doesn't seem like a good reason to actively hide your children from you."

"It was more than that," Gansley admitted. "She also didn't like my business practices and didn't want me teaching that to the children. But now they're grown and should be able to make their own decisions on whether or not to seek me out. Apparently they have no interest. For all I know, she may have even lied to them about me and said I didn't care about them."

"I am so sorry," Lector said. "We sadly do have losing the love of biological family members in common."

"Eh. Well, nevermind that now. We have two foolish teenagers to find." Gansley turned a corner.

xxxx

Téa was horrified when she received Yugi's text. "Oh no!" she gasped. "Joey and Tristan aren't at the warehouse now, but they were there! Something is wrong!"

Seto grunted. "Typical."

"Are there any clues?" Marik asked in concern.

"Just something pretty creepy," Téa replied.

Marik took out his phone, looking the group text over himself. "The Eternal Rest Coffin Company?!"

Seto reached and pulled his laptop to him from where it was sitting on the end table in front of the couch. "I'll look it up."

Mokuba watched as Seto typed into the search engine and soon brought up the company's website. "See anything, Seto?"

"Nothing that looks particularly incriminating." Seto scrolled through the main page, then went to the About Us tab. "It seems to be a perfectly normal business . . . except for this." He frowned, tapping the screen.

Mokuba leaned over to read. "The owner's name is Marcel Germaine!" he exclaimed.

"Germaine . . . like Angelique's last name," Téa gasped. "What if he's Dr. Raven?!"

"There's no picture, unfortunately," Seto said. "But why would a knick-knack shop owner really be a more successful businessman in disguise?"

"Why would a knick-knack shop owner be a corrupt voodoo priest in disguise?" Marik grunted.

"Why do corrupt voodoo priests exist at all?" Seto muttered.

Marik started typing on his phone, looking for articles about either the company or the owner. "Here's something," he said after a moment. "Lector's father is locked in a power bid for the coffin company."

"What?!" Seto exclaimed.

"So he wants it himself?" Téa blinked.

"Yes. He's put in three offers for it so far, but Marcel Germaine keeps turning him down because he doesn't want to sell. And he is the supplier." Marik scrolled through the article.

"That's not an unusual situation in business," Seto said. "Ordinarily there wouldn't be anything wrong with it at all. But in this case it could be different. If Marcel Germaine is Dr. Raven, this could be another reason why he's angry with Lector's father."

"What a complicated mess," Téa groaned.

Marik went back to his text messages and scrolled through a new thread that had been developing. "Everyone is going out looking for Joey and Tristan. Lector says to leave the French Quarter to the adults." His eyes darkened. "In my case, however, I don't know if there would really be much there that I haven't already seen in some form. As the leader of the Rare Hunters, I ran into a lot of unsavory characters and scenarios."

"I would still rather you didn't go there," Ishizu said as she entered the living room with a tray of hot chocolate.

"I will go," Rishid said. "There are plenty of other parts of the city you can check, Marik."

"But if they could literally be anywhere in the city, how will we ever find them?!" Mokuba despaired.

Seto pondered for a moment. "I have an idea." He started typing into his laptop. "I'll see if I can trace them via Wheeler's cellphone. Tristan still doesn't have one, does he?"

"No," Téa sighed. "Hopefully they're still together. . . ." She blinked, really focusing on Seto's declaration. "Uh . . . is that legal?"

"I have connections," Seto responded without looking up.

"Okay then," Téa sighed, opting not to question it further. They had to find Joey and Tristan as soon as possible, especially since it looked like they had been taken against their will.

Either that or they were foolishly following someone on foot or by stowing away in their vehicle. With Joey, Téa thought wryly to herself, almost anything was possible.

xxxx

Crump looked up as Nesbitt came to the bedroom doorway.

"There's more trouble," Nesbitt growled. "Two of the kids are missing and everyone is spreading out through the city to find them."

"Missing?!" Crump echoed. "How the heck did that happen?!"

"It's Joseph, isn't it," Johnson sighed. "And perhaps his friend Tristan?"

"Yes," Nesbitt scowled. "And it looks like there may have been foul play."

"Oh great." Crump started to push himself up on the mattress. "Are we gonna go help look?"

Johnson gave him a stern look. "You really shouldn't," he objected. "You should stay here and keep warm."

"I won't get any warmer!" Crump retorted. "But maybe we shouldn't go because of y- . . ."

Johnson quickly waved him off and interrupted. "At least one of us should go, I think."

Nesbitt grunted. "I'll do it then." He disappeared from the doorway.

Johnson sighed and slumped back. "The two of us had better wait here," he said to Crump.

Crump folded his arms and frowned. "I still wish you'd let me tell the others what's going on," he complained. "What about when the cat's out of the bag, as it will be eventually? They're all gonna be upset that we didn't tell!"

"But hopefully they'll understand why," Johnson said quietly. "And maybe if nothing's wrong with me, we shouldn't tell them at all."

Crump muttered under his breath.

xxxx

Serenity was tense as she, Duke, and David wandered down an old street lined with small, local shops. They had been unable to get the car through because the street was roped off for another parade in the morning, so instead they determined to walk around for a while, calling for their loved ones.

"I just don't know what we're going to do!" Serenity cried. She was practically hysterical. Joey was lost in the city, didn't answer the phone, and the thought of combing the entire metropolis was overwhelming. How would they ever find him and Tristan, especially before something drastic happened?

. . . If it hadn't happened already. What if they were both badly hurt? . . . Or worse. . . .

Duke kept a firm arm around her shoulders. "Above all, we have to stay calm," he told her. "We're not going to get anywhere if we freak out. Although I know it's hard."

"Maybe we should have stayed near the warehouse district," David said.

"Some of the others are looking there," Duke said. "I really don't think they're still there."

"But where?!" Serenity wailed.

Suddenly a thought sprang into Duke's mind. It was a horrible, chilling, eerie thought, but one that unfortunately made some semblance of sense—particularly with the sick mind they were dealing with in the form of Dr. Raven.

David caught sight of the look in Duke's eyes. He definitely had an idea, but one that he was reluctant to say around Serenity. For all his talk of not sheltering her, he didn't like getting her worried unnecessarily either, and she was already worrying necessarily. He didn't want to add more.

"Hey," Serenity said suddenly. "There's a woman going down the street. We haven't seen anyone here since we started walking."

They all looked. Indeed, a woman in a powder blue dress was heading towards a building on the corner. A parasol was slung over one shoulder—a strange sight at night.

"Excuse me!" Serenity called, hurrying forward with a wave. "Have you seen a blond boy with a Brooklyn accent? Or a brown-haired boy with a pointed pompadour?"

The woman didn't respond. Instead she walked through the wall.

The three youths just stood and stared for a long moment. Then the silence was broken by Serenity shrieking. "That was a ghost! We can't find Joey and Tristan and we just saw a ghost!" She sobbed, slumping against Duke as she trembled.

Duke held her close, trying not to show how shaken he was by what had just happened. "Hey, it's okay, Serenity," he said. "Apparently that ghost didn't mean anyone any harm. And . . ." He sighed. "Well, I do have an idea. Maybe we should start checking the cemeteries for Joey and Tristan."

Serenity went stiff. "What do you mean?!"

"Maybe they were dumped there by Dr. Raven or someone," Duke said. "Maybe it's a long shot, but . . . there were two coffins in that warehouse . . . and now those are gone as well as Joey and Tristan."

Now Serenity went completely pale. "Oh no!"

David looked a little sick. "That's a really dark train of thought you've got going there."

"But it's possible," Duke said. "And we shouldn't ignore the possibility."

Serenity shuddered and looked up. "No, we shouldn't," she agreed. "We have to check everywhere. So let's start checking cemeteries!"

xxxx

The jazzy music pierced Joey's consciousness. He stirred, rolling over in the soft bed and pulling the pillow down farther. "What the heck. . . . Why's this pillow so small?" he mumbled. "And who's playing that music?! Come on, cut it out! Can't you see I'm trying to sleep?!"

The music persisted. Finally, annoyed, Joey sat up with the intent of shutting it off.

That was when he saw that the only light above him was a full moon.

"I'm outside?! What kind of a bed is this?!" Joey looked down and from side to side. It was an awfully small bed . . . almost perfectly contoured to his body, in fact. . . . And there was a lid hanging open to the side. . . .

A scream tore from his lips. "I'm in a coffin! I'm IN a COFFIN!"

He leaped out in horror. Now everything was coming back: the voodoo ritual in the warehouse, the coffins, he and Tristan passing out when their pictures were stabbed. . . .

"Tristan?!" He looked around with a start. Tristan was lying in a second coffin, his hands on his chest. The moonlight captured the end of the box, where TRISTAN TAYLOR was embossed in gold lettering.

Joey's mouth dropped open. He spun around to look at the coffin he had just vacated. Sure enough, JOSEPH WHEELER was printed on the edge of it.

"Okay, now that is just sick!" Joey boomed. He ran over to Tristan and shook him on the shoulder. "Come on, wake up! We've gotta get out of here!"

Now he could also see the source of the music. A small CD player was perched on a nearby bench, playing When the Saints Go Marching In on Repeat.

Finally Tristan stirred. "Joey, turn off the music," he mumbled. "I wanna sleep. . . ."

"No, you don't!" Joey snapped. "Tristan, you're in a coffin! Get up!"

"I'm . . . what?!" Tristan was up like a shot. Then the pain in his head stabbed into him and he groaned, reaching a hand to cover it. "Oh . . . I feel like I was chloroformed or something."

"Or something," Joey growled. "Don't you remember, Tristan?! The creepy lady chanting 'Where are the children'? The coffins?!"

"Oh man!" Tristan looked down at his surroundings. "They put us in them?!"

"You got it. And then they stuck that CD over there. I think they play that song at funerals down here or something. Come on, let's go!" Joey begged.

Tristan shakily climbed out of the coffin. "So . . . where are we? This doesn't look like the docks. . . ."

". . . No, it doesn't." Joey looked around. He had been too focused on the horror of waking up in a coffin with his name on it to really pay attention before, but now he was seeing a lot of strange and large box-shaped objects. They were everywhere, on every side. Pathways cut in between some of them, such as the one he and Tristan had been placed on.

". . . Um, Joey?" Tristan moved closer to his friend.

"Don't say it, Tristan. Don't say it if you don't want a punch in the mouth!" Joey trembled, his horror increasing as it became inherently clear where they were.

"I'm pretty sure we're in a cemetery," Tristan continued. "And what's worse . . . some of it looks really run-down. There's a tomb over there that's been broken into."

"Oh no!" Joey wailed.

"I was researching New Orleans on the flight over here," Tristan said. "One of the most well-known cemeteries is where that voodoo queen Marie Laveau is supposedly buried, St. Louis Cemetery No. 1."

"Supposedly?!" Joey snapped.

"Some people think she's buried in a different one and that it's her daughter buried here," Tristan explained. "Anyway . . ." He swallowed hard, his own fears coming into his eyes and his voice. "That cemetery had so much trouble with vandals, they shut it down to the public except on tours."

"And you think that's where we are?!" Joey shrieked.

"I think it's a good possibility," Tristan said. "And what's worse . . ."

"How could it get worse?!"

"People say it's the most haunted cemetery in the States."

Joey and Tristan looked at each other for a long moment.

Something creaked very nearby.

The boys screamed, flying into each other's arms in utter terror.