Tina hugged her harder. “Yeah. But we can be pretty great. You’ve always shown up for us, so let us show up for you.”
“Heh.” Lawson released the embrace and took off her glasses to wipe her eyes. “All right. We’re stuck here so we need to figure out what to do, before the storm gets any worse. Robin thought Gloria was a tulpa. What do you know about tulpas, Taylor?”
Feeling like he was back in her lecture hall and horribly unprepared, Nigel wracked his mind frantically. “Um…I think…they’re sort of like thought-forms?”
Oscar held up his hand. “I believe I speak for the rest of us when I say I don’t know what either of those things are.”
“Thought-forms are spiritual manifestations of concentrated thought. Any sort of concentration—a musician might create a temporary one while focusing on music. They don’t look human, more like blobs of color and light, though only mediums can usually perceive them, and even then only with the proper training.” This, at least, he remembered from his studies. “They tend to be ephemeral, there and gone when the circumstances that created them end.”
“Exactly.” Dr. Lawson clasped her hands behind her back. “A tulpa begins as a thought-form, but its creators concentrate on a humanoid shape and personality, along with the determination to bring it into existence. Traditionally, the point is to create a spirit with an independent existence. If I had to guess, instead of holding a normal seance, the Pack decided they could bring Gloria’s spirit here by ritualistically envisioning her day after day. Hopefully, she’d crossed the veil and was beyond their reach no matter what, but either way, their method produced a tulpa instead. Said tulpa gained independence…and realized her creators were horrible people.”
“She wants to get the victims’ story out.” Nigel stood up and joined her in pacing. “The Pack treated them as disposable. Probably society as a whole did. But every human has value. They lived, and their story is worth telling. So Gloria made up a tale about buried pirate treasure to get people to find them.”
Chris shook their head. “Says something that she thought ‘buried pirate treasure’ would work and ‘hey, there’s some dead people who need to be put to rest somewhere that isn’t a mass grave’ wouldn’t.”
“Was she wrong?” Nigel asked ruefully.
“Apparently not.” Dr. Lawson put her hands on her hips. “We need to keep ourselves safe until the coast guard can rescue us. I say we hunker down in a room with fewer large windows, put Faraday cloth over the door to drain Gloria’s energy if she tries to get in, and wait. After that…let me spread the word about what the Pack did. I don’t have as much to lose as you young people do.”
Nigel was unconvinced of that, but didn’t say anything. Maybe Ms. Montague would go easier on Dr. Lawson, given their history. Maybe?—
The front door swung open, and Montague stumbled inside. Ethan had tried to shield her from the weather with an umbrella, but it was turned inside-out, the ribs broken from the force of the wind. As he slammed the door behind them, Montague straightened.
In her hands, she held the Devil’s Toy Box.
CHAPTER
FIFTY-TWO
For a moment, Oscar thought Montague had been sensible to bring it with her, so as not to risk it getting broken if the trailer blew over. Then he realized the duct tape had been slit along the edges, so the box could be opened easily.
“What the hell are you doing with that?” Dr. Lawson barked.
Ethan shook water off the umbrella and set it aside, as Montague carefully stepped over the salt lines and into the dining room.
“I mean to take a page out of Mr. Fox’s book,” Montague said. “Just as you released the nurse’s ghost at the asylum to fight that of the doctor, I propose we free Ullman to protect us from Gloria while we wait out the storm.”
“Are you insane?” Lawson stared at her, aghast. “The nurse wasn’t a murdering cannibal!”
“Gloria killed Robin, or have you forgotten?” Montague’s expression went ice-cold. “We’re trapped on this island, in this house, where she’s free to do the same to us. Given the storm and the condition of the building, we can’t chance her adding us to her list of victims.”
Something broke upstairs—a window being blown in, possibly. The storm was definitely growing worse by the minute. Thunder boomed, getting closer. If there was more electro-magnetic energy in the air, any spirits would be able to feed on it. Presumably including Gloria, though if salt didn’t work on tulpas, maybe not?
“Gloria or Robin brought us a tape,” he told Montague. “I think we’ve been given another chance. If we just agree to do what Gloria wants?—”
“I’ve already made it clear that isn’t acceptable. Why are you being so difficult?” She held up the box in her hands. “Go along with my plan, abide by your NDAs, and everything will remain as it has been once we leave. I will continue to support you financially—and of course that includes grants for survival research, Dr. Taylor.” Her expression softened. “I’m not an unreasonable woman. I believe in your work—I want it to go on.”
For a long moment, there was no sound except for the rain pounding against the windows, the wind hissing past the eaves. Oscar took a deep breath. Then he rose to his feet and faced Ms. Montague.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just can’t do it.”
CHAPTER
FIFTY-THREE
Oscar saw the flicker of worry in her eyes, before it was quickly hidden once again. “What do you mean, Mr. Fox?”
“I can’t let this happen. Gloria—this Gloria—might be a tulpa rather than a human ghost, but I’m not about to let Ullman murder another girl—even if she only looks like one. And I can’t cover up the crimes he and his friends committed in life.”
