by Sam Harding
Neither one of them had any real extensive medical training, and so they were flying by the seat of their pants, but they had enough common sense to know that leaving the boy in cold wet clothing would be a death sentence.
“You got him?” Wally asked his wife.
“Yes?” She looked at him quizzically, as if she couldn’t believe he wasn’t going to help her.
“I’ll be right back, I’m going to call 911.”
“Wally, the phone lines are down.”
“Jeez,” he left the living room and snagged the landline phone from the wall mount in the kitchen. Sure enough, the line was completely dead thanks to the raging blizzard outside. He made his way back into the living room and, avoiding his wife’s I told you so look, he helped her pull off the boy’s soaking jeans.
After a couple minutes, the boy was fully naked and free of his freezing garments and it was clear now that he was visibly shaking. Wally recognized that as a good sign, because when someone was dying of hypothermia, one of the signs of a worsening case was that the person stopped shivering, even though they hadn’t gotten any warmer. Diana wrapped him tight in the quilt she’d been using earlier and then added an old military-issued wool blanket on top of that. The loveseat was close enough to the fire that the little boy would also be heated up by the nearby flames, and for good measure, Wally even tossed on a couple more logs to make sure it stayed as hot as possible.
“What do we do now?” Diana asked, staring at the boy as if she were afraid he’d slip away at any second.
“We can’t call out, and we sure can’t drive out. All we can do is wait,” Wally said, putting a reassuring hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Wait and pray like crazy he makes it through.”
“I don’t understand, though. Where did he come from, Wally? Where are his parents? Who lets their little boy run off into a snowstorm like this? It’s not right.”
“I couldn’t tell you. All I know is, this is at least one kid safe from the Butcher this Christmas Eve. I think he’s lucky to have a little hypothermia than to get taken by that devil.”
Diana put her head on her husband’s shoulder, so glad she’d married a man that could always find the silver lining in every cloud.
His words wouldn’t have been so comforting to her though, if she’d known just how wrong he was.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
3:10 P.M.
AFTER LEAVING THE strip club, David’s sense of triumph had morphed into a feeling of discomfort within the span of only a few minutes. There was no question in his mind that those in the club he’d killed deserved to die, and, as a matter of fact, he believed they should have died far slower than what he’d allowed to happen. What started to bother David wasn’t whether or not they deserved to die, but whether or not he should have killed them. His master had once told him that just because he could do something, didn’t mean he necessarily should do it. In this case, David realized this may have been exactly what The Master had meant.
The voice in the back of his head had been quiet at first, but as the minutes ticked by, the voice became louder and louder, until finally, it was deafening, telling him that he’d made a terrible mistake and that he should have never left the boy alone in the warehouse. That killing those people would surely draw attention to himself and he’d be discovered long before the clock struck six.
The Master had warned David on more than one occasion not to let his urges control his actions, but David had ignored those warnings today, dismissing them for the will of God. But what if he had been wrong about that? What if the urges were just his own weakness, just as the urges to have sex with Mary had been weakness? Of course, he’d fought off the urges to fornicate with the whore, winning that battle against himself, but what about today? What if today’s urges after securing the boy had been a test from God? A test to see if he’d give into his urges and abandon his true mission, the mission he’d been literally born to do.
These thoughts had caused David to turn his careful walk along the icy sidewalk into a slow and controlled run. The soles of his old boots struggled to maintain traction, but he didn’t dare slow down. He had to get to the dead cop’s car at the end of town and get back to the boy as soon as physically possible.
The run to the car had taken over ten minutes, and by the time he started the engine and used the wipers to knock off a thick sheet of snow from the windshield, it took another five minutes just for the windshield to thaw enough for him to be able to see. He’d parked the car behind an old brick library, concealing it the best he could in-between the backside of the building and a large blue dumpster, which now had snow piled up all around it from where the snowplows had gone through and moved the snow in an attempt to keep up with the storm.
He put the vehicle into DRIVE and hit the gas, feeling the heavy engine rev up and then the rear tires spinning on the snow, failing to gain traction on the white surface. Although David hadn’t thought it looked too bad before getting into the vehicle, the snow pile-up from the snowplow had done just enough to create a barricade around the backside of the vehicle. David fought the urge to curse and then frantically searched the control board to his front in order to find the option to put the vehicle into four-wheel drive. Normally, he would have found it a lot faster, but his panic was keeping his brain from functioning as it normally did.
He needed to leave. Now.
Where is it? Where the hell is it? David frantically searched, feeling the covered portion of his face sweat underneath the scarf, a sensation of tiny needles poked into his skin around his mouth, under his nose, his chin, and down his neck.
In reality, he found what he was looking for in less than five seconds, but in David’s mind, it had taken far longer than that. He hit the button hard with his right index finger, and when the amber light shone on the dashboard that the vehicle had engaged its four-wheel drive capabilities, David practically kicked the accelerator with his boot. The large vehicle started spinning out again, and David was about to scream in frustration when, finally, the two front tires caught traction and jerked the machine from the snow pile.
With sweat pouring down his neck and onto his chest beneath the layers, David felt himself starting to pant, but he did nothing to make himself more comfortable. Instead, he hunched down low in his seat in order to see through the clearest portion of the windshield just above the defroster vents, and nosed the large SUV out onto Main Street after letting a Jeep and two large trucks go by at a snail’s pace.
Unlike the rest of the traffic though, David peeled out onto the road and growled with white knuckles gripping the steering wheel as the vehicle failed to initially gain traction on the slick roads. He ignored the looks from the few people crazy enough to be out on the sidewalks, and finally felt the vehicle catch traction again as he began rolling northbound.
Even at only thirty miles per hour, David had to crank the wipers up to full throttle in order to be able to see out of the vehicle. He’d never seen a storm like this in his entire life.
About a mile north of city limits, David could see the red glare of tail and brake lights along the side of the road mixed in with the white haze a few yards ahead. Reluctantly, he slowed down so he wouldn’t accidentally rear-end anyone and completely fail his entire assignment. As he got closer, he could also make out flashing yellow lights atop the vehicle ahead, and realized the vehicle must have belonged to some sort of utility service. That theory was confirmed when he was able to make out another of the same type of vehicle in front of the first, as well as a downed strand of power-lines laying in the snow a few feet from the shoulder of the road.
He thought back to town and remembered all the obnoxious Christmas lights and the ridiculous music at the strip club, and decided the power must have been shut down only north of town, no doubt the result of too much weight from the snow on the power-lines. If that was true, David realized, then that meant the power would also be out at the warehouse a few miles up the road, which also meant he wouldn’t b
e able to plug in the electric heater he had stored in the small office space in the corner of the warehouse.
He would have to endure the cold along with the slimy little demon boy. David’s lip curled at the thought of this, but there was nothing he could do about it. He glanced at the dash clock and wished six would come just a little faster. It was so close now, he could almost taste it.
Once he was past the work zone, he increased the large vehicle’s speed by about ten miles per hour, pushing the needle to fifty, while everyone coming the opposite direction into town was going at least half that. But David didn’t care, he had to get somewhere, and he had to get there now, before any mistake could be made, before something unforeseen happened at the warehouse—such as someone accidentally finding the boy.
David felt more needle stings as he began to sweat even more, and his foot added a little extra pressure to the accelerator, pushing the vehicle to fifty-five, and nearly cutting down the visibility to nothing.
Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, three more red brake lights materialized through the windshield. They came at David like three glaring eyes in the fog, moving at him at a rate faster than he could safely react to.
David slammed on the brakes, which was a mistake, even with the vehicle’s analogue breaking system. The big SUV slid on the icy roads, hardly even slowing down at all. David turned the wheel sharply to the left, hoping he could safely slide around the much slower vehicle in front of him. Just before slamming into the rear bumper of the car, the SUV caught some traction and jerked hard to the left, but much to David’s horror, he lost control again and slid right past the car in front of him, and continued to slide at a high rate of speed towards the shoulder of the wrong side of the road.
He felt the earth change underneath him as the SUV went off the icy pavement and onto the rocky shoulder, and then keep going straight into the forest that lined the side of the road. Somehow, he narrowly missed two massive trees, passing straight between them, and barreling forward, totally out of control.
Through the smacking of branches hitting the car and scraping the sides, David couldn’t hear the sounds of his own screams. No matter what he did, he couldn’t get the car to stop, and although the snow he pushed with the front bumper had slowed him down considerably, it still felt like he was moving at nearly sixty miles per hour.
A thought of the little boy locked in the warehouse flashed through his mind, and then he thought of his master and the disappointment he was about to cause him.
Those were the last thoughts that ran through the Demon Slayer’s head before the SUV hit a large rock with the left front tire, flipped onto its passenger side and then began sliding sideways until it was brought to a sudden stop by the thick trunk of a snow-covered evergreen.
David’s head slammed hard against the steering wheel and he went out like a light.
CHAPTER FORTY
3:15 P.M.
I’M NOT SURE how long I’ve been sitting in my car, staring at the front door of Kate’s apartment complex, a cigarette in my hand, filling the cab with smoke as I space off into oblivion. I take a long drag and flick a long tail of ashes into my ashtray next to two still-warm cigarette butts.
My cell phone sits between my legs on the seat, and the screen occasionally lights up to remind me I have a text from Kate. A green bubble that reads: Where did you go? Please come back.
I almost reply, just as I almost replied thirty minutes ago when I’d initially received the text, but I don’t. I need time to myself, time to think, time to figure out what my next step should be before my son is found dead in less than three hours.
“She needs you inside, you know?”
I accidentally suck in a drag of smoke so sharply, that it causes me to cough and gag. The voice from the passenger seat next to me had been so sudden and clear, that at first, I’d thought there was an actual person in my car with me. But, as I cough, I realize the voice is that of my wife’s, and so, I refuse to look over at her, knowing that if I do, she’ll go away.
“You love her, don’t you?”
I look down at my lap. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t lie to me, Micah.” Her voice is soothing, and I can’t detect a single hint of anger in it. Something I’d become an expert at during our time together.
Softly I admit, “Yes.”
“More than you did me?”
It takes all my strength to not look Dani in the eye. “I still do love you, Danielle.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
I shake my head. “It’s different.”
“Different? What’s so different about it? Love is love, isn’t it?”
“I mean the circumstances. You and I fell in love during good times, you know? But, she and I –”
“Kate.”
“Kate and I—misery brought us together, Dani. She’s someone who—someone who—” I can’t find my words, feeling like I just got caught cheating and now I’m trying to justify it.
“Someone you can trust? Someone who you can share the burden with and help you feel less alone?”
In a near whisper I say, “Yes. I’m sorry.”
“So, do you love her more than me?”
“I could never love anyone more than you, Dani.” My eyes moisten with tears, not just because I feel like I’ve betrayed my wife, but because I’m also relieved she’s come back to talk with me. For a while, I thought she’d left me for good.
“Maybe you can love Kate that much.” Again, there’s not a single tinge of anger in her voice.
“I’d sell the world to have you back.”
“I don’t want you to, even if you could.”
“You don’t?”
“No. I’m gone, Micah.”
“No, you’re right here.”
“I’m not. I’m only here because you want me to be here, but then again, I’m still not even really here. Not only am I not here, I’m not worth selling the world to bring me back, either.”
“Please, don’t say that.”
“It’s true.”
“It’s not.”
“Micah, I don’t want you to sell the world for me.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I want you to find a way to live in the world that exists as it is.”
“You were my world, Dani.”
“I was a part of your world, Micah. And now, Kate is a part of it. You were right before.”
“Right about what?”
“The night you first made love to her.”
I nearly choke on air.
“You thought that maybe I would understand, that I wouldn’t want you to be alone, and therefore, you were not being unfaithful to me. You were right. You said you’d sell the world for me, but what I want, darling, is for you to live for me. And if Kate makes your life more bearable, then I want you to be with her.”
Tears run down my face now, and I feel my body begin to tremble. “But I’ll always need you, too. I don’t want you to go away.”
“You’ll always have me, one way or another. But don’t forget people need you, too. I hope you never do it.”
“You hope I never do what?”
“You know.”
I don’t say anything.
“You have a responsibility. Not only to Thomas, but now to Kathryn.”
“I already failed Thomas.”
“Bullshit.”
The profanity catches me off guard. I’ve heard Dani curse numerous times, but never have I heard her ghost—or my hallucination of her—speak like that. “Do you know what happened?”
“Of course, I know. But he’s still alive. You still have time. Plenty of time. Have faith in yourself, and have faith in those you can trust.”
“He’s all I have left of you.”
“And you’re all he has left. Don’t ever take that from him, Micah James Donovan.”
“I won’t.”
“Swear it.”
“I swear.”
“I love you
.”
“I love you too. I will always love you.”
“Then always live for me.”
“I thought you’d left me. I thought that—” I almost can’t finish the sentence. “I thought that the happiness I felt with Kate had driven you away. I thought maybe you were upset.”
“Kate keeps me at bay, not because I’m upset, but because when you have her, you don’t need me. But, when she’s not around and you do need me, I will always be here for you. Maybe not right when you want me, but I’ll come eventually.”
“Even though you say you’re not here?”
“I’m not here.”
“Right.”
I look up from my lap and out the side window, watching the snow swirl, feeling like I’m caught inside a giant white cotton candy machine. I can hear the winds howling, angry ghosts surrounding me along with the actual ghost sitting next to me. At least Dani’s not angry. I patiently wait for her to say something else, but she never does.
Slowly, I turn from the window and look at the empty seat next to me. I knew she’d be gone, but I had to see for myself. Despite everything, though, I feel better. Not fine, but better. More than anything, I’m glad she understands.
I then feel a vibration on the seat between my legs and look down at my cell. There’s another text from Kate, the text is written in all capital letters and as I read it, I feel my pulse begin to quicken: WHEREVER YOU ARE, COME BACK. JASON FOUND SOMETHING.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
3:20 P.M.
When I get back up to Kate’s apartment, I’m greeted by her the second I come through the door. She stands directly in front of me, no more than a few feet away, hands on hips, her hawk-like eyes piercing into my own like green daggers.
“Where the hell were you? I texted you but you didn’t reply.”
“I needed to check something,” I say.
“Something? You mean to see if Detective Blake was home?”
