by Holly Hook
At least she had a brother. I wished I had one, even one as much of a jerk as hers. Aside from Moanna, I had no one to talk to about this. Stephanie had shut me out and probably wouldn't believe me.
Unless she had to do with everything, too?
I watched Moanna leave and browsed around the edited CD’s for a while just so I wouldn’t make the guy behind the counter think I was up to something. He was already watching me. I picked a few up and set them down again. Wal-Mart didn’t have crap for a selection so I had to pretend to be interested in Motown compilations and country albums. And I had to remember that Moanna was into Eric. That might be a problem, too.
I saw a flash of orange nearby.
The hunter was standing at the end of my aisle. He looked down at the CD’s as I turned my head, like he didn’t want to catch me looking at him. The guy had leaf bits in his beard. Wasn’t it too early in the season for shooting deer or something? That wasn’t until fall and it was still just September. Maybe geese were in season or something, but the guy was dressed too warm for that.
I didn’t want to look nervous around the guy, so I moved and headed to the video games. I’d pretend to look and then I’d get out of here. Sara could have something else up her sleeve and I wasn't taking any risks.
But quiet footsteps approached from behind. And in the glass of the video game case came a blob of electric road cone.
I turned. The guy stood there just five feet behind me. He managed a smile but his teeth were so gross and yellow that nothing could help them.
“Why are you following me?” I asked in my best tough girl voice. I couldn’t afford to be nice here. My life was at stake. “Don’t you know that’s rude?”
The guy just stood there like he wasn’t sure what to say. He stuffed his hand into his orange pants pocket. Something was bulging there.
I couldn’t help it. I backed up. Terror blossomed in my gut like a black flower with ugly green tendrils. The man went to pull out whatever he had, then must have thought better of it. “Are you Mara?”
“No,” I said. “I don’t know who you’re looking for but you’ve got the wrong girl. I don’t know anyone by that name.”
“The other girl called you Mara,” he said. The man drew closer. I could smell his breath now. It was like stale cheese mixed in with garbage and I wanted to puke. “I need to talk to you. Your heart. It’s been broken, hasn’t it?”
And then he reached into his pocket again. This time, I caught what was in it. A handle. A black knife handle.
That was it.
I bolted out of the electronics section.
The contents of Wal-Mart raced past as I tore through the men’s clothing section across the aisle and through racks of tee shirts and jeans. Then I about knocked over a box sitting there next to the fitting room doors. The man’s footfalls were behind me. All I could think of was my bike, chained to the rack down by the gardening section outside. I’d have to mess with the lock. I’d never get out of here before the man caught me and drove that knife into my chest.
Sara must have asked for my heart in a box.
The story was unfolding the way it should.
I looked back as I ran through an empty checkout line, ducking under the chain that blocked it off. He was easy to spot. The hunter booked past the jewelry case, a crazed look in his eyes. It was a look I’d never forget.
The bike wouldn’t work.
Not unless I could do something first.
One of the ladies watched as I ran past her. “Is something wrong?” she asked. I didn’t stop to answer. I knew I should scream that this guy was trying to kill me, but it wouldn’t come out. If I’d just yell someone would call the cops.
“Is this man chasing you? I'll call someone.”
There was a crash behind me and I whirled around. The woman screamed while a family with a shopping cart stopped to watch. The man in orange was wrestling with the woman, who held a corded phone in her hand. He tried to pry it away from her while two other women from the other lines rushed over to help. The man grit his teeth and made a grunt like a crazy person. The mother pulled her two kids away from it all and abandoned her cart. The hunter shoved the woman down and ripped the phone out of its cradle, tearing the wire. He growled, tossed it down and turned on the other two women.
And then he drew his knife.
It was the scariest one I’d ever seen. Black. Jagged. Meant to kill.
One of the women screamed and then everyone in the front of the store freaked. Screams came up and cell phones came out. The first woman got up and grabbed for any weapon she could find. The man held the knife up and swung it down at one of the others. She barely dodged out of the way and the knife plunged into a rack of gum. Cheap candy flew everywhere as the man cursed. He was strong. Too strong for them to handle.
Somewhere, a girl cried and begged for the police on her cell phone.
The hunter was going to kill someone. I couldn’t stand here and let someone else die for me.
I searched around for any weapon I could find. One of the women screamed for security. Her terror made my heart ache. I settled on the cart the mother had left. Groceries. Bread. Chips. A huge jar of dill pickles.
I seized that and ran towards the man. He made another grunt like an animal and drew his knife from the rack of gum. He bared all his teeth. Everyone had backed away from him now, but he turned his craziness on a young man in a Wal-Mart uniform who stood at the mouth of the checkout lane. The guy was all computer nerd. The nerd's mouth fell open as he eyed the knife. He was the man for the job and he wasn’t going to last long against Godzilla.
“Sir,” the young man managed.
The hunter advanced, letting out a roar.
The employee backed into the jewelry case. He bent back over it, flailing. A woman screamed. The girl with the phone babbled to the operator. All thought left me. I ran towards the crazy guy with the jar of pickles. He was raising his knife. The young man closed his eyes.
I lifted the jar with both hands and bashed it against the attacker's head.
Glass exploded and the man stood there for a second, pickle juice running down his back, and then wobbled in place. He dropped the knife and fell, landing in a sitting position.
I had stunned him.
I backed away, shocked at my own actions. The crazy hunter groaned and reached out towards the employee, who backed away.
Somewhere in the distance, police sirens sounded. No one spoke. The entire front of Wal-Mart had gone quiet.
I leaned down and picked up the knife. Something about it seemed familiar. I had seen this knife before. The grooves. The exact point, curved in on one side. The grayish border around the black. The shine and most of all, the red jewel encrusted on the handle. This wasn't an ordinary hunting knife. This was something from another time. Maybe even another world.
And then the hunter turned his head to face me.
And he grinned, showing all of his yellow teeth.
"You don't remember who you are, do you?"
I almost dropped the knife. I backed away into the checkout line and stepped over packs of gum. I had to get away from that guy's stare and the knowing look he was giving me.
"Girl, hand me the knife."
It was one of the female employees, one of the women he had tried to stab.
"Hand me the knife, please. Back away from this man. He's insane." Her voice was shaking and I caught a glimpse of her blue vest out of the corner of my eye.
I turned towards her and surrendered it.
I was too freaked out to be myself right now.
The sliding doors came open and officers spilled in, guns drawn. The hunter stood up from the floor, dripping with pickle juice, and stared at the oncoming police force as if he wasn't sure what he was staring at.
And then he fled towards the back of the door, stumbling the whole way. The hunter fell as the police yelled at him to freeze. He tried to stagger to his feet again, but it was no use. Four officers tackled
him and he made another roaring sound. I watched a police woman cut cuffs on him. They kept him pinned for a long time. I couldn't move. The whole scene had everyone frozen and watching.
Finally, they stood the guy up. A male officer said something to him. He was probably getting read his rights. The hunter snarled at him and grinned again. It was the creepiest thing I had ever seen on an otherwise normal person.
This guy could have cut my heart out and taken it to Sara.
Sara must have hired this guy. She wanted my heart in a box. I wondered where the guy had hidden that and if it had a skull on it like everything else Sara owned.
I was glad I wasn't holding the knife anymore. It was definitely heart-cutting out material. The woman next to me held it like she wasn't sure what to do. This wasn't your normal Wal-Mart customer.
And then people started to move as the shock wore off.
The mother with her kids herded them out the door, turning the little boy so he wasn't looking at the scene that might scar him for life. The woman next to me leaned over and whispered something to another employee, then faced me with something like admiration.
It was then that the stress and terror of it all hit me.
A weak feeling spread through my limbs as the police brought the jerk closer to the front doors. Red and blue light pulsed through them and shone off the glass. I'd never been in a crime scene before. An older officer waved the woman with the knife over and she hesitated, then walked up to him.
They talked for a bit. And then the woman pointed at me.
"She knocked him out," she said loud enough for the entire front of the store to hear. "That girl smashed a pickle jar on his head and knocked him out. She saved Jeffrey's life!"
I shrunk back as every eye in the store turned towards me.
People clapped. Heat rushed to my face. I was going to die.
The police would want to talk to me next.
And I still had to get to Eric's house. That was across town if Moanna was right.
"I..." I managed. "I was just trying to stop the crazy guy from stabbing someone!"
Then I realized that the hunter was standing right there, cuffed between two officers. They had stopped right behind the older officer and the woman he was talking to.
And then he spoke.
"I'm the crazy one?" he asked. He glared right at me and smiled again. "You don't even remember Fable. You don't even remember your life there. It's this world that's insane and hard to understand." Then he turned his gaze on the officers. "Why have you bound me?" he asked. "I merely had a job to do."
One of the officers tugged on him and led the guy outside.
Fable.
The name sounded right and familiar and so out of reach.
I might seriously be from another world. The idea didn't sound too far fetched after everything that had happened.
Was there a world where the fairy tales were real?
And now they were bleeding into this one?
Sara might be from there, too, and Eric had no idea.
I had to get out of here before the police decided they wanted to talk to me all night and call the media while they were at it. I could see the story now. Girl thwarts insane stabber with jar of pickles. That wouldn't get any attention from the man in black or his minions at all. There was also no possible way it would make him or Sara mad.
I had to run.
The front door was way out with all the cop cars. The older officer kept talking to the woman, who got more animated the more she spoke. Now was the time to go. I turned and ran through the checkout line again, crunching packs of gum under my shoes, and bolted for the back of the store. No one stopped me. Everyone had gathered up near the front. But I had no doubt someone would point the police my way.
Time was wasting here.
I found a store room in the back and ran through boxes and cartons and towards a back door. I burst out and heard more police sirens. My bike was in the front of the store, still chained to that rack. I wished Moanna's brother hadn't made her leave so fast. I could have asked for a ride. Sara could have killed Eric already just to get to me.
I stood there, torn between getting my bike and running the three miles to Eric's house. The police would keep me forever, asking questions. They'd never believe me about Sara trying to kill me. They had no evidence and if I told them about cursed combs and ties choking teachers, I'd be joining the crazy hunter in whatever mental hospital he'd be heading to.
I had to run for it.
Eric might not have taken Sara to his house, but I had to try.
The back of Wal-Mart bordered on the farm supplies store and I had no choice but to climb the chain-link fence and hop over. It took forever to reach Eric's house, even following the GPS in my phone to the other side of town, a part I had never ventured to. Or at least, it was a part that I thought I had never ventured to. I didn't have a car and Stephanie never drove us out this way.
It was a whole different world out on Rambridge Road.
The houses were old and must have been here since the Victorian era. Some of the bigger ones looked like little castles and had vines growing up their stone walls. Maybe they were castles. A few of them had tall fences and gates. A dog barked at me as I walked past. My feet felt ready to explode and the light was dimming. It was evening. I wasn't home for dinner and Stephanie might be getting worried. But Eric could be in danger and I had taken long enough to come looking for him. Not that it was my fault.
Then I saw the right address on a stone mailbox, in gold letters.
I drew closer. This was the place, all right.
And it was the biggest house on the street.
And also, the most castle-like.
Eric's house rose above the others. Made of gray and brown brick with a reddish roof, it had almost no vines growing up it and a tower looked down at me with a single, dark window.
And it also had the tallest fence on the street. It towered feet over my head with iron spikes on top. I stopped at the gate, which sat between two stone pillars. It was just as high as the fence.
I searched around for camera that might be watching and found one above my head, peering down from the inside of a brick. The lens reflected the streetlight down the road and I looked like a dark shape inside of it. There had to be a buzzer here. These places always had them. This was one fence I didn't want to climb and I didn't need anyone calling the cops on me. And not to mention, this place probably had an alarm that would call them automatically. Eric's family had to be the most paranoid around here.
I found the buzzer after searching for a minute and pushed it.
There was no sound. A light turned on inside the house as if someone had been laying low. I stood on my tiptoes and waved. Waited. No speaker came on asking what my business was.
But at last, the front door came open and an older lady stood there.
There was some distance between us, but I could see her staring. She was wearing a blue apron with some company logo on it and she studied me as if trying to figure out if I was a threat or not. I waved again since it was a big lawn. "Hi," I said. "Is Eric home? I'm a friend from school and I just need to talk to him."
My heart raced. What would I say? What if he was falling for Sara and this was the part where he was going to tell me I was a pile of dog crap and he wasn't interested? That was the best case scenario. I didn't want to think about the worst one, but I couldn't give up on him. I wouldn't. Sara was not going to destroy me or him like this.
The maid drew closer. "Eric?" she asked. "He's home, but he doesn't want company at the moment, I'm afraid." She had a funny accent that I couldn't place. Why was she talking so old fashioned? "You had better leave."
"Is anyone in there with him?" I asked.
"No," the woman said. "No one else is here." Her expression hardened and she stopped halfway to me. "Go. We don't like unknown visitors."
She was acting like I was there to rob them or something. "Sorry I'm a reject from Haven Hous
e," I said. "Did you know that Sara is, too? You let her in, didn't you?"
"You need to get out of here," she said, pointing down the road in the opposite direction I had come from. "There is no Sara here. Eric didn't give anyone a lift today. You need to mind your own business, girl, and allow Eric to make his own decisions. You have no place in them."
I balked. This woman knew what was going on. I had no doubt. No sane person would talk like this to someone ringing their bell that they had never even met. "Eric told you to say this to me," I said. "He knew I'd turn up here." Hurt welled up inside me and I wanted to die. I wanted to hurt someone.
The woman took a step back. "Eric said nothing," she said. "Now you need to go before I call the police."
"What's going on?" I shouted. I grabbed onto the gates. "Did Sara do something to you? Is she controlling you?"
"Sara is--" The woman shook her head, caught. "I'm going to go inside and call the police. Return home, girl. It's for your own good as well as hers."
And the maid turned away.
In the tower, the curtains drew back a little. They surrounded a pale face who stared down at us.
Sara's face.
I tensed. "Don't go back in the house," I said to the maid. "She's dangerous. She might hurt you.”
But the maid wasn’t listening to me. Where were Eric’s parents? Didn’t they ever hang around? The maid kept walking back to the front door, quickening her pace as if I were about to shoot her.
Or as if Sara were about to do something.
“Come back!” I shouted, grabbing onto the bars.
The maid stopped.
Sucked in a breath.
And then I realized. Her apron was tightening around her, constricting her body. It was happening again, just like it had with Mr. Rain.
The maid opened the door and struggled for breath, then moved over the threshold. There was nothing I could do. Sara vanished from the window and above and the maid staggered further into the light of the house. Just before she managed to close the door, I saw her apron loosen a bit and she breathed a huge sigh of freedom and relief.
And then silence.
