The Ties That Bind: The Borderlands Book 1

Prologue

“Legend has it he was killed on this very spot.” As the words fell from Liza’s lips, a low wail was heard in the distance. The tourists clustered together in a slightly tighter group, many seeming unaware that they actually moved. Liza reminded herself to tell Colin the sound effects were spot on.

Tonight’s Haunted Mystery Tour was going well, better than any they had done previously. Even though the tours were running nightly, Liza viewed it as practice for the main event, Halloween. They had two weeks left to get it perfect. That would be the night that counted.

In many of their past tours, the sound was an issue. Colin couldn’t resist getting overly dramatic. While she conceded that a sense of drama was nice, he tended to go so overboard that it tipped the tourists from tittering with nervous excitement into laughter at the farce.

Tonight, no one was laughing.

They wound their way through the old cemetery. Liza kept her steps measured and slow. She counted them as she walked, giving the last fright time to sink in before she began the next tale of woe.

‘I’ll have to talk to Colin about the dry ice machine,’ she thought. He may have toned back the music but he was certainly overdoing it with the atmosphere.

The fog was getting especially thick. She liked the feel it gave the tour, which is why she approved the machine’s use in the first place, but she didn’t want anyone getting separated from the group and lost among the tombstones.

Barrowville Cemetery was old and vast, the oldest in the Borderlands in fact. Many of the older parts weren’t kept up very well anymore and while Liza didn’t believe in spooks and specters, she believed heavily in twisted ankles and bruised shins. At the moment she was having trouble keeping her own shins from banging against the headstones. It didn’t help that in this section the rows were irregularly spaced.

Liza turned back to the group. She took a quick head count and found all present. The cluster of people condensed, the fog herding them together instead of separating them. She breathed a sigh of relief as it was one less thing to worry about. She reached out a hand and placed it on top of the next headstone. She felt the gritty limestone surface beneath her fingertips, so different from the polished granite of the newer stones in the front of the cemetery.

“And now we come to Lucille Morgan,” Liza began. “Her sad tale echoes through the centuries, her unhappy end still causing her to walk these very fields.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Or so some claim.”

She kept the volume of her voice low so that the others had to lean forward to catch all the words. Confident in their attention, Liza allowed her gaze to drop to the headstone. As she shifted, she saw the edge of a shoe lying at ground level. It looked modern.

She edged forward a step, wondering if it was trash or if one of the tourists actually fainted. Both were regular occurrences on these tours. They had taken to patrolling the cemetery routinely to make certain garbage was all collected and disposed of the day before the tour. On her last pass through, Liza couldn’t remember seeing any footwear. Liza edged a little closer and saw the shoe was attached to a leg.

A fainter then.

“It seems we have frightened someone to death,” Liza said. “Or perhaps he has just fainted, shall we see?” she told the crowd. She smiled at them so they would realize that everything was in hand and going as expected, despite the fainter.

There were titters from the scared, an edge of relief to the sound as they weren’t the ones on the ground. Liza moved over to help the fallen. The scent hit her before her eyes could register the sight. Blood, excrement and a raw meat smell that crawled into her nose and lodged like a lump in the back of her throat. Then, the fog rolled away revealing the tattered flesh. She blinked, recognizing the face.

“C…C…Colin?”