Rotting Souls

by Sara Clancy

  “Maybe you should give it to me.”

  Before Benton could give a response, Mic moved. All he did was turn to look at him, floating soundlessly over the barn floor, not disturbing a blade of grass as it passed, but the meaning was clear enough.

  “Mic doesn’t think that’s a great idea.”

  “Death?”

  “Yeah. I’m going to have to side with her.”

  Dorothy was still checking her daughter but paused to a glimpse over her shoulder. “Her?”

  “What?” Benton said with a weak smile. “Death can’t be a girl?”

  Dorothy quickly turned her attention back to her daughter.

  “She seems to be unharmed. Just asleep.”

  “Like I said.” Benton caught his tone the instant that Dorothy shot him a scowl. “I didn’t say anything.”

  Once again, he was dismissed in favor of her daughter. Crouching low, she pushed some stray hair from Nicole’s forehead.

  “Come on, let’s get you home.”

  “I can help,” Benton said.

  “Get the car door for me,” Dorothy said without a glance in his direction.

  He turned as Dorothy bundled Nicole into her arms, barely catching the words she whispered.

  “You were a lot smaller last time I did this.”

  Pure, undiluted love drenched every word. Tender and warm. Instantly, he felt like he had intruded onto a moment where he wasn’t welcome. He jogged out of the barn, clutching the arrow in one hand and keeping it away from his body. The sky was quickly shifting, warming with the morning. He was now able to see for miles around. Towering grass swayed in the morning breeze, catching the light and rustling like a thousand whispers. Pushing aside his unease, he opened the back of the police car. They were all high-set SUV’s in Fort Wayward; there were just too many places a car couldn’t go. He scrambled up into the high-set cab and turned, ready to help get Nicole in without jarring her too much. He had just enough time to slip the arrow safely under the front passenger seat before Dorothy arrived. Together, they drew Nicole’s limp body inside, resting her head on his lap. She shuffled, snoring softly in her sleep before settling back down.

  “That’s a good sign, right?” Dorothy asked. “At least it’s not a dead sleep.”

  “Maybe.”

  Dorothy got into the front seat and gave one last look to the barn. “Nicole is not going to be happy about that when she comes around.”

  His head was already spinning with the freak out that was coming their way. “Yeah.”

  “One of us is going to have to tell her,” Dorothy said softly, almost as an afterthought.

  “Not it!”

  They rushed the words, trying to get the phrase out before the other. Benton was a little quicker on the draw and he beamed. Dorothy sat up straighter in her seat, transforming herself into the unshakeable Constable Rider.

  “I’m an adult.”

  “You’re an adult that’s stuck telling your daughter about her jeep,” Benton said.

  “This is ridiculous.” By the time they were heading down the road, Benton was sure she had left the conversation behind. So, he was a little startled when she suddenly started right where they had left off. It was something so akin to what Nicole would do that he had to smile. “And besides, you’re the one that didn’t think to hit the brakes.”

  “Nicole was passed out,” he said defensively.

  “All the more reason not to let her drive.”

  “I was caught off guard! I’m the one that’s always getting hurt, not her. I don’t know how to deal with that.”

  The truth of that struck both of them, rendering them silent. These encounters had quickly developed a status quo. Nicole would charge in, all fire and righteous fury, and Benton would follow. But he was the one that got the brunt of the injuries. Not her. Waking up to screams. Watching her drop like a rag doll. It’s as if our roles are reversed tonight. Honestly, he wasn’t a fan. And obviously not that great at filling her shoes, either.

  “Is Death, I mean, Mic, with us?” Dorothy asked tensely.

  Benton didn’t have to look hard to find the black mass keeping pace with them a half a dozen miles out in the field.

  “She’s around.”

  “But not too close?” Dorothy said, gripping the steering wheel until her arms shook.

  “She’s off the clock,” Benton promised.

  That seemed to settle Dorothy somewhat. “Good. Oh, while I remember, your mother called. The cover story is that Nicole is having some personal family issues and called you for moral support. That’s why you snuck out.”

  Benton made a grunt of agreement. “That should work.”

  “What did you plan to tell them?”

  “Honestly? Never occurred to me that I’d have to tell them anything.”

  She met his gaze in the rear-view mirror. “You really need to sit down and have a discussion with your family. Have you even told them that you’re a banshee yet?”

  “Have you told Nicole you know, yet?” he shot back.

  “We’re not talking about me, right now,” Dorothy said with just as much defensiveness. “Besides, mine’s a little more complicated.”

  “Hey, honey. Heard you killed a serial murderer. Just wanted to reassure you that it was self-defense, no court will ever convict you, and I love you no matter what,” Benton said. “You can cut that down to two sentences even. Why do adults keep insisting that these things are so time-consuming?”

  “Hey, mom and dad. Just letting you know I’m a banshee. Any idea on which side of the family I got that from?” Dorothy retorted.

  Benton narrowed his eyes. “It’s emotionally scarring to be mocked by parental figures, you know.”

  Dorothy met his eyes in the mirror again. There was a second of tense silence filled with him trying to figure out what he had said wrong.

  Then she asked somewhat meekly, “You really see me as a parental figure?”

  “Well,” Benton shrugged, fighting back the heat in his cheeks. “You’re a parent. And you’ve been good to me. And, you know, neglected children seek out – you know, what? I’m gonna stop talking now.”

  “Don’t be shy. I’m touched. Really.”

  Benton scrunched his mouth up and avoided all eye contact. “Yeah, well, you’re welcome.”

  Mercifully, she did let it slide and moved the conversation along with little more than a sweet smile. “Did you get a glimpse at what did this to her?”

  “Just shadows. I was mostly focused on the metal hurdling at my head, to be honest.”

  “Nothing else you can think of?”

  “Why do people always ask that question? What, like I’m just going to recall all these details I didn’t mention before because you pushed?”

  “You’re getting very close to an attitude I’ll take offense at,” Dorothy warned.

  “Sorry,” Benton mumbled. A thought struck him, making him curse under his breath.

  “What?” Dorothy asked instantly, eyes quickly scanning the horizon for any threats.

  Forcing the words out was almost painful. He rushed them, half hoping that she would hear.

  “I remembered something.”

  “Oh,” Dorothy asked. “Really?”

  “You sound exactly like your daughter when you do that,” he deadpanned.

  “You mean correct?”

  “This is why she is the way she is.”

  “My girl has a few faults, I’ll be the first to admit it,” Dorothy said, each word beaming with pride. “But I’m damn proud of how she’s turning out. So, stop avoiding the issue and spit out what you remember.”

  Benton didn’t know if he was annoyed or amused. Either way, he instinctively glanced down at Nicole. It just seemed like she should be joining forces with her mother to mock him. That was how it normally went. One of them was always allied with Dorothy against the other. But she was still sleeping soundly. Eyelids twitching as she dreamed. The sight eased the tension on his chest. Rapid eye
movement came with dreaming. Dreaming generally meant that she’d wake up soon. At least he hoped that was what it all meant.

  “Benton?”

  His head jerked up at Dorothy’s snappy tone.

  “Sorry?”

  “At some point in the future, we’re going to work on your little habit of tuning out all the time. It’s a little creepy. Right now, however, I’m going to need to follow up on what you were saying earlier. About recalling something new.”

  “It’s nothing solid. Just a feeling. It felt like a ghost. A murdered one.”

  Dorothy twisted around to face him, only remembering she was driving when the car veered. Between Benton’s shouts and Dorothy’s cursing, they managed to right the car again.

  “You taught Nicole to drive, didn’t you?” Benton snapped.

  “You can tell the difference between methods of death?”

  “Only in the vaguest way.” Benton was more concerned about latching his seatbelt than keeping up the conversation. Only after he made sure that Nicole was also strapped in as best as her position allowed did he bother to keep talking. “I’m pretty sure we went over this at some point. I can feel the difference between murder and suicide. I haven’t met anyone that died from natural causes, so I don’t know what they might be like.”

  “And this one was murder? You’re sure?”

  “Yeah. And there was something else I couldn’t put a name to.”

  “Try describing it.”

  “That won’t help.”

  Dorothy switched to her stern motherly voice to stress the word, ‘try’. Which wasn’t fair. Given that she was also a cop, she was good at being intimidating.

  “Fine.” He glanced back down at Nicole. She was still amazingly unhelpful. Although it did somewhat defuse the situation to hear her snort in her sleep. “It’s like an echo of a sound with no beginning.”

  “That’s literally impossible.”

  “Gee, if only you had some warning that you wouldn’t be able to understand.”

  “This is your second warning about tone, Benton. Don’t make me give you a third.”

  “Sorry,” he mumbled. “But, seriously, how did you think any of this would make sense to you? Have you ever even seen a ghost?”

  “I’ve seen more than I care to.”

  “Of monsters,” he laughed. “That’s different. They’re flesh and blood. Something separate to your own. Ghosts don’t have those kinds of boundaries. It’s more like energy. No way to stop them from slipping under your skin.”

  Dorothy glanced at him again. “You can’t go a single day being normal, can you?”

  Benton shrugged one shoulder. Sometimes, it really seemed like Constable Rider was wasted on a small town. Her interrogation techniques were second to none. She could intimidate someone twice her size and then, with a little smile and some light teasing, get anyone to feel completely at ease around her. Regardless of how much greater good she could do elsewhere, Benton was endlessly grateful to have her here. History had proven to him that the vast majority of law enforcement weren’t exactly open to evidence obtained through supernatural means. Let alone killers of that caliber. It was both strange and incredibly awesome to have someone with a badge and a gun willing to hear him out.

  Nicole’s brow scrunched up. Her mouth twisted down into a scowl and, after releasing an annoyed groan, she began to squirm. Dorothy twisted in her seat again, careful this time, making sure that the car never veered.

  “Is she awake?” Dorothy asked.

  “Nic?” Benton whispered, not wanting to scare her. After a moment of hesitation, he pushed some of her hair back, cupping her head to stop her from falling off the seat as she wiggled. “Nic? Are you alright? Can you open your eyes for me?”

  Her hand lifted. It hovered in place, trembling slightly with the strain, her fingers curling and stretching even as she failed to open her eyes.

  “Nicole?” Benton whispered more insistently. “Can you-.”

  His sentence cut off as she lightly smacked her hand against his mouth.

  “Nicole–”

  Again, she slightly tapped him. “Five more minutes.”

  “I’m not an alarm.”

  Tap.

  “Shh, five more minutes.”

  “You can’t put me on snooze.” Benton managed to get the words out before she blindly patted his mouth again.

  Barely stifling his annoyance, he gently grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand back from his face.

  “Stop.”

  “No talking,” she grumbled and, once realizing she couldn’t smack him again, she squirmed once more.

  “I almost had a heart attack,” Dorothy muttered to herself. There was a hint of annoyance in her tone, but it was hard to find under the waves of relief. “I was going out of my mind with worry.”

  Nicole pressed her face into his stomach and smacked the side of his head.

  “I wasn’t even the one talking,” he snapped.

  “Shh.”

  “Okay, I’m done with this. Come on, get up. Wakey-wakey!”

  A grunt of pure annoyance escaped her as he pushed her up. In a purely passive-aggressive move, she went limp, leaving Benton with the choice of either letting her return to her sleeping position or taking on her entire weight. It took a solid shove to get her to sit up. The jolt finally got her to open her eyes, and she blinked around owlishly.

  “What’s going on?” she mumbled through a yawn.

  Dorothy opened up the floodgates on her questions, letting them all fling from her mouth. Even half-asleep, Nicole obediently answered every question. They swiftly established that Nicole was fine, apart from a slight stinging in her hand, and had absolutely no recollection of the last few hours. The last thing she remembered was abducting Benton from his therapy session. All the while, Nicole was searching for a way to get back to sleep. Benton wouldn’t let her lay back down, and leaning against the door seemed too uncomfortable. Eventually, she curled up beside him, resting her head against his shoulder. He didn’t have the heart to push her off again.

  “Where’s my jeep?” she asked.

  Dorothy pretended not to hear the question and Benton bit his lips.

  “Guys?” Nicole pressed.

  “We left it in a field,” Benton said. “You know, because I can’t drive.”

  “When are you going to get your license?” Dorothy asked.

  “My parents don’t want to encourage independence.”

  Dorothy didn’t miss a beat. “Well, that’s stupid, so I’m going to ignore it. I’m giving you your first lesson Wednesday after your baseball practice.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Benton said.

  Nicole groaned, steadily opening her eyes and looking very annoyed at being awake. He wondered if she was normally this hard to wake up.

  “Wait, what happened?” Nicole asked.

  Catching her up highlighted just how little they actually knew. Still, it was more than enough time for her to shake off the last tendrils of sleep and return to her energetic norm.

  “Do you still have the arrow?” she asked.

  “Under the seat,” Benton said.

  Her eyes roamed as she shuffled again. Her hands twitched with her need to grasp a pen and notepad.

  “Okay, okay. We only have one so we have to be careful with it. Organize the tests so we don’t ruin it too soon. Where’s my backpack?”

  “You want to test the arrow?” Benton asked.

  He shrunk back in the seat as she whirled around to face him. “Duh! Duh a thousand times over. How could you not want to study it?”

  “A healthy self-preservation instinct?” he offered.

  “Benton, you told me that it cut my hand and it’s invisible.”

  “To you,” he added. “I can see it just fine.”

  “That just brings up more questions,” she declared. “How can something be invisible and not? How can it be incorporeal and cut me at the same time? It goes against everything. What is science?”
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  “Honey,” Dorothy warned.

  Even while frustration crossed her face, Nicole paused and sucked down a deep breath. It was a well-established routine between the two and Benton knew well enough not to interfere. Nicole didn’t really calm down. It was more an exercise in bottling her particular brand of crazy. Shifting it from rapid speech to fidgeting. She was all but squirming by the time she was able to speak at a slower pace.

  “I’m just saying that this is the only lead we have and we should exploit it for all it’s worth.”

  “We all agree with you,” Dorothy said. “I’ll take care of it.”

  Nicole perked up like a meerkat. “You?”

  “Yes, me.”

  “But we’ll get to be there, right?”

  “You have school.”

  “I was just poisoned by an unknown creature of mystery and we have an arrow that laughs at logic, and I have to go to school?”

  “It’s Monday,” Dorothy replied simply.

  “But ... arrow!”

  “I’ll tell you what I find out after school.”

  “I was attacked,” Nicole protested, barely able to keep her voice from becoming a whine. “Shouldn’t you keep me close? Get into protective mama bear mode?”

  “You and Amy were both attacked at night.”

  “Okay, maybe–”

  “And you were both alone. No offense, Benton. It just seems that the paranormal don’t really care if you’re there or not.”

  Benton didn’t have time to respond before the constable continued.

  “I can’t keep a constant eye on you without neglecting my duties. If anyone notices me following you around and neglecting my duties, they’re going to try and get involved. We still don’t know how this ... thing picks its victims, so I’m not going to do anything that might draw innocent people into the line of fire.”

  “Okay,” Nicole said. “I hear you. Just a few counterpoints.”

  “No, Nicole. You’re going to school where you will be constantly surrounded with at least a dozen other people. I’ll pick you up after.”

  “And you’ll tell me everything then?” Nicole pressed.

  “I’ll tell you what you need to know,” Dorothy said.

  Nicole rolled her eyes. “Mom, come on. Don’t make me find out on my own.”