Consequence

by C R Langille

  The thought left as quickly as it came upon him. Anger burned hot as the bellows of his soul pumped strong. He wasn’t sure what angered him more, the thought or the fact he considered it in the first place. He counted backwards from ten silently and then took a deep breath.

  “Are you ready?”

  Donna nodded.

  “This is going to hurt.”

  She stared at him in silence with water-filled eyes. Her whole body shook. When she glanced down at the wound, her breath stopped halfway through her throat. The shudders ceased. It only took a matter of seconds for her body to reboot, and the tremble returned.

  It wouldn’t do to leave the bone exposed. Who knew how long it would be before they received proper medical attention, and infection would be a bigger danger than anything else. He decided to set it and make a traction splint. It took more time to get the splint ready once he decided to go traction, but it would help with the fracture.

  He didn’t envy Donna at the moment. She was probably in incredible pain since the initial shock of the break wore off. The pain would explode once he set the bone. Toby remembered in his first aid training. They said only to set the bone in extreme circumstances; if the current circumstances didn’t count as extreme, he didn’t know what did.

  Once the supplies were ready, he got to work on her. He used as much water as he dared to clean the wound. Toby didn’t know if it was enough, but it would have to make do.

  “Okay, we need to set it now. I’m going to pull on your ankle. I need you to pull back with your leg. It’s going to hurt like hell, but it needs to be done.”

  “Okay.”

  Toby grasped her ankle and drew it toward his body. Donna let out a banshee’s wail and grabbed at the dirt.

  “Damn it, pull!” Toby yelled.

  She screamed again, but this time it came across different, as a primal tone infused itself with the scream, a tone telling him to run for his life. Her eyes shot wide and stared at something behind Toby.

  “Hey, Toby Dick,” Chuck said, his voice full of phlegm and gravel. “Who’s your friend?”

  Toby dropped Donna’s ankle and rolled to the side. She let out a wail when her foot hit the ground and tried to scramble backward. Donna didn’t make it far, and she clutched at her shin.

  Toby got to his feet and faced Chuck. Toby didn’t think it was possible, but the big man looked worse than before. Chuck’s skin was the color of a fish’s belly and sagged on his bones, giving his face a tired look. Dried blood caked his goatee and cheeks.

  “We’ve missed you, buddy. Been looking all over hell and back for you.”

  He glanced over to his pack and gun, but they were too far. The familiar welcome weight of his long knife sat at the small of his back, and while it wasn’t much, it was better than nothing. Toby stood between Chuck and Donna.

  A quiet voice in the back of his mind urged him to let the big man have her. She was dead weight, and it could give him enough time to slip away.

  The thoughts flew through his mind, but he dismissed them. Toby grabbed the knife and brandished it before him as Arthur would Excalibur.

  “Seriously? You think that pig-sticker is going to help you?” Chuck smiled a wide grin, but the loll of his skin pulled at the edges, and he looked like a warped clown. “Why don’t you and I do a number on this bitch? It’ll be fun.”

  “I don’t think so,” Toby said.

  “Figures, you’ve always been a ‘ho’s before bro’s’ piece of shit.” The smile wavered on Chuck’s face.

  Toby came at him and slashed at Chuck’s neck, head, and guts, all within the span of two seconds. The burst of speed hurt, but he gritted his teeth and tried to move through the pain.

  The big Viking of a man leapt back and let out a deep guffaw. He held his arms out to his sides and leaned forward, an invitation for Toby to continue. However, Toby held back. He shifted the knife to an ice pick grip and crouched low. Toby motioned for Chuck to come at him with his fingers.

  Bruce Lee, eat your heart out.

  Chuck straightened to full height, and his brow furrowed in confusion. His sallow skin rumpled up with the expression.

  “Come on you giant fuck, let’s get this over with,” Toby said.

  “Your funeral,” Chuck said.

  The big man shot forward, and Toby did the same. However, Toby feinted high with the knife and drew Chuck’s defenses up, then he realigned and brought the blade low and struck the big man’s leg. The blade bit deep and parted both cloth and muscle with equal ease. Toby rolled through the strike and ducked under Chuck’s fist. He was able to come to his feet and spin around in time to see the big man fall to the ground.

  Toby expected a cry of pain, a grunt of exertion, or at least a bellow of frustration; however, he didn’t expect the high-pitched laugh. Chuck lay on the ground and giggled.

  Chuck sat up then got back to his feet. If the big man felt the wound, he didn’t show it; a normal person wouldn’t have been able to use the leg at all after such a wound. Toby knew he’d hit the bone when he struck.

  Black blood seeped down Chucks grimy pant leg. The dark liquid seemed heavy and viscous, more so than regular blood, and almost looked as if it tried to flow back into the leg.

  “What the hel—”

  The sentiment blasted to bits when Chuck’s fist connected with Toby’s nose. In fact, the blow evicted all of his thoughts. His ears rang, and the familiar taste of blood forced its way into his mouth. Toby realized he should move or defend himself or something as Chuck rained down another heavy fist. This one caught him on the ear. The force of the strike put him on his knees and rolled him across the dirt. Something popped in his jaw and for a moment, he saw spots.

  “You know, T.D., you shouldn’t play with knives. They’re dangerous.”

  Toby tried to reply, but only blood came, and there was deep ache where his lower jawbone connected with his skull. This kind of action wouldn’t get him any closer to home. He mentally kicked himself in the ass. He should have escaped earlier. Toby had the keys. Why hadn’t he left her?

  “Hey! Where you going, baby?” Chuck asked. “We still got to get acquainted.”

  Donna crawled away at a slow pace. She looked back once and then tried to crawl faster.

  Chuck walked over to her and put a heavy boot on her ankle, which elicited a low but steady wail. After a moment, her mouth stayed open but no sound came out, only spittle. Chuck picked her up and threw her next to Toby. The sickening grate and crunch of bone sounded when she landed. The blood flowed stronger, and the bone jutted out even further than before. She screamed in pain and grabbed her leg. Toby winced at her cries; he needed to do something quick or they were both dead.

  Toby lashed out with his foot and caught Chuck in the knee. He would have gotten the same result if he’d kicked a tree stump.

  “You know, T.D.? Sometimes you can really be a pain in the ass.”

  Toby spit blood at him.

  “All right, you want to play first? I can hook you up.”

  Chuck straddled Toby’s prone body. He put his knees down on Toby’s arms and immobilized him. Then, Chuck searched around until he found the knife.

  Without hesitation, Chuck drew the knife across Toby’s face and cut a long slash from the corner of his eye down his cheek. It was as if someone drew a line with a welding torch, and Toby screamed. He tried to think, but the edge of the knife dominated his thoughts.

  “Brock said not to kill you, but he didn’t say I couldn’t decorate you. Now, sit still. We wouldn’t want to mess this up.”

  Chuck brought the knife down again and cut another line, parallel to the first. The pain of both cuts mixed and now the entire side of his face burned under the torch’s kiss.

  Sebastian was going to die. Linda was going to die. It was all because some false sense of honor kept him from leaving Do
nna. She was dead anyway, and now, his family would pay the price.

  A new fire rolled through his body. A fire fueled by rage. Anger boiled his blood, and for the first time in his life, all the nerve endings in his body danced as one. Toby gave himself to the fire and let it burn through him. It was the worse pain he’d ever experienced, but behind the inferno slid a sweet sensation. Something whispered to him and let him know that it would be okay if he just rode it out.

  Toby drank the rage, got drunk off it. He could feel things he never felt before. The forest was alive around him. The trees cried in remorse, and Toby scoffed at their sentiments. The grass and weeds shrank away from his heat, and he savored their fear. But sweetest of all was the life that beat through Donna. Her life beat at a quick pace in time with her heart.

  Chuck cut another line in Toby’s face, and in some part of Toby’s brain, he could feel it, but it didn’t matter. It was more fuel for the fire. What mattered most was his family. Toby needed to get away from Chuck and get back to his family.

  As the inferno blazed through his soul, Toby knew what he had to do. The knowledge came to him easier than anything ever before, packaged up in a neat little box with a bow on top. Toby didn’t even hesitate.

  He grabbed Donna’s life and pulled it into him. The beat of her heart quickened as he yanked her essence to him, ripped it from her body and fed it into his boiler. Her heartbeat thrummed through his core, and he connected to her being. It was better than morphine at the ER, a steak grilled to perfection, and cold beer after a hard day’s work. His pain vanished, and the skin knitted itself closed on his face.

  Chuck must have noticed, because he stood up and took a step back. Toby came to his feet and thrust both hands out in front of him. Donna’s life energy shot forward as a stream of blue and yellow fire, which engulfed Chuck’s body. The big man finally let out a scream of terror. The heat and power of the blast ripped Chuck’s skin from his face. The flames wrapped around him as a python would its prey.

  Toby clenched both fists. The tendrils of fire tightened. Bones cracked under the pressure of the attack, and the horrible smell of burning hair and flesh overpowered the air. Toby brought his arms apart as if he pried an elevator door open. As he did, the flames parted, and a loud tearing noise cut through the forest. Black blood flash boiled as the fire ripped Chuck in two. With one final heave, Toby sent pieces of the big man flying in all directions.

  The fires dissipated and left a sulfurous stench to mix with the other smells in the air. Toby slumped to the ground as the last bit of Donna’s life flew from his fingertips.

  A warm burn flooded his body. The kind of burn someone felt after a good workout. Perhaps he had finally figured out the new powers. Maybe the final life or death situation unlocked the knowledge. It didn’t matter to him though. His family mattered. Now he needed to get Donna ready to move and return to the Jeep before Brock found them.

  Her turned toward Donna and froze. Donna was a burnt, desiccated husk. Her blackened skull with charred bits of burnt skin stared back at him in a mad grin.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Linda gripped Sebastian’s hand tight because she didn’t want him to get lost. Evard’s house was unlit, and fear gnawed at her guts as they walked closer. Sebastian lagged behind, and she almost had to drag him. Linda didn’t want to go in, but standing outside and waiting for someone or something to kill them was even worse. She gave him a reassuring squeeze and walked into Evard’s house.

  Linda caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. Evard walked into the hallway and disappeared from view. She followed but stopped short. Something wasn’t right. She couldn’t tell what, but her stomach twisted in protest.

  “I don’t like it here, Mommy.”

  They needed to leave. This place wasn’t safe.

  “Me either, let’s get your grandpa and get out of here.”

  Linda took a step and kicked something across the floor. It skidded along the hardwood and crashed against the wall. Her heart skipped a beat, and she wrestled to keep a scream down.

  It was garbage. The scream dissolved into a sigh of relief.

  “Evard?”

  She held onto Sebastian’s hand like a talisman. His presence gave her some small comfort. He squeezed back and gave her the strength to move forward. They navigated the pizza boxes, chicken buckets, and beer cans as quietly as possible. They rounded the corner to the hallway.

  Evard posted in front of the sewing room door. Pale, yellow light from a naked bulb basked his body in its glow. He stared at them for a moment and then walked into the room.

  “Evard, wait.”

  “Mommy, let’s go. Something’s wrong with Grandpa.”

  She looked down into Sebastian’s eyes, and they pleaded with her soul to leave. Linda scooped him up and held him close to her chest. She was about to turn and head back out to the car when Evard’s voice cut through the house.

  “Linda, I got Toby on the phone.”

  Her stomach lurched. She ran to the room. Sebastian yelled something over and over to her, but whatever he said didn’t register.

  Evard sat on the floor next to Kelly. She had her back to Linda, and the mechanical drone of the Singer growled as she worked the foot pedal. Kelly fed a long strip of red cloth through the machine and hummed an odd, discordant song.

  “Oh, Linda, it was so good of you to stop by. Toby’s on the phone for you. He’s been very worried about you and Sebastian.” Kelly’s voice floated on the air, a leaf in the wind. Her tone played with Linda’s senses and made it hard to think.

  The scene wasn’t right. Kelly was dead. Yet, she sat there in front of the machine and sewed as she used to do. The room itself seemed quite cozy. Sunlight poured through the window and lit everything with its warmth. Evard leaned against Kelly’s leg and read a book. The cordless phone sat on the ground next to him.

  She took another step in the room. Sebastian struggled, and she let him loose on the ground.

  “Stay close,” Linda said.

  Sebastian screamed a reply, but the words sounded foreign to her. It didn’t matter though. Toby was on the phone.

  Another step. The light grew brighter, and the warmth embraced her like an old lover. A slight stink of decay tickled her nose, but an overpowering scent of vanilla steered her mind away from that fact. Evard smiled and handed the phone over. She faltered a step—the smile was too wide, not friendly but eager. It didn’t matter. Toby was on the phone. Linda grabbed the receiver from Evard’s hand. She placed it against her ear.

  “Hello?”

  ***

  Evard sat next to Kelly as she sewed on the machine. He was vaguely aware Linda was next to him on the phone. He had The Scarlet Letter in his hands. The book was an old friend, gone for years only to return out of the blue. Like good friends, as soon as he got a couple pages in, things felt normal. As he read, Evard found it hard to focus on the words, and the words he could read didn’t sound right. When he re-read paragraphs, they were different. A pinprick of a headache saluted him from the depths of his mind, and his mouth was dry.

  “Kelly?”

  “Yes, Bee?”

  The headache intensified.

  “I don’t feel so good. I think I may leave you and Linda to chat. Maybe I’ll go lie down.”

  Kelly stopped sewing for half a second. She kept her back turned to him. The overpowering scent of vanilla continued to invade his nostrils and didn’t help his headache at all.

  “I’m afraid you have to stay here, Bee.”

  Evard put the book down. He looked around and couldn’t remember when he came into the room to begin with.

  “No, I think I’ll go take a nap. It might do me some good,” he said.

  Kelly turned to him, and Evard caught a glimpse of orange and black eyes. When he blinked and looked again, Kelly looked away.

  “
You’ll stay here, and no more arguing, Bee. Don’t make me angry.”

  It wasn’t like Kelly to be so direct. She had never threatened him before. Something picked at the back of his mind, a task he was supposed to do. His memory had turned for the worse ever since Kelly passed.

  “Stop.” It was a child’s voice.

  “What?” Evard asked.

  Kelly kept feeding material into the Singer and ignored him. He tried to stand but found that his legs were asleep. He stretched them out and tried to get the blood to return. A thousand tiny pins stabbed as his legs and feet and caused him to wince. Evard reached for the book again, but it was gone.

  “Where did my book go?”

  Kelly kept sewing, but her voice floated into his head.

  “You’re so forgetful nowadays. I swear, you’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached to that meat sack you call a body.”

  So forgetful since Kelly died. She died, didn’t she?

  “You let my mommy go!” The child’s scream—Sebastian’s scream—ripped through his head like bullet. He let out a groan and rolled onto his stomach. His ears rang, and for a moment, he couldn’t hear anything at all but the bells in his head. The light in the room shimmered, and he found himself in complete darkness.

  “Kelly? Sebastian?”

  The sewing machine droned, but no one answered. He searched the darkness for her— but found an empty chair. The sound of the Singer overpowered the ringing in his ears. Something constricted in his chest and made it hard to breathe.

  “You leave me alone! Go away!” Sebastian yelled.

  The boy’s scream ripped away the image of the sewing room as Evard saw it. He found himself still in the room, but now darkness hung heavy in the air. Linda lay next to him in what looked like a state of shock. She cried and stared up at the ceiling. Kelly scrambled past him on all fours like a scared animal.

  Evard tried to get up, but all his strength was gone. It took everything to sit up and lean against the desk. Linda was in much better shape; at least she crawled toward the door.