These Unquiet Bones

by Dean Harrison

  He opened it, flipped through the pages, and stopped when he came to a picture that could have only come from an old box of family photographs locked away in his mother’s bedroom.

  It was his dead sister’s wedding portrait, taken outside the clapboard chapel at the old family compound in Gulfcrest. Arm forcibly linked to Bubba Ray Busby, who smiled stupidly at the camera, Hannah’s big brown eyes were downcast, her face crestfallen. The epitome of sorrow.

  I don’t believe this. Hank shook with rage. How long did Amy have this?

  Anger entangled with the fear Hank felt for his daughter. He struggled to decide which to go with.

  “Reckon you got yourself a problem,” said Steve Goodwin, standing in the doorway. “Too bad I can’t help ya none. It’s over for that sexy lil’ nymph.”

  Teeth barred, Hank chunked Amy’s diary at the ghost, which vanished like a wisp of fog.

  “She’s a goner.”

  The notebook hit the wall on the other side of the hallway and clattered to the floor. The sound of mocking laughter followed.

  “Told ya it wasn’t me. This is what you get.”

  Hank dropped the photo and punched the mirror capturing his ragged reflection. Shattered glass rained down on the cluttered bureau. His knuckles bled, but he paid no mind to the pain.

  In a blind fit of fury, he grabbed the chair behind Amy’s desk and threw into the adjacent wall, missing the window by an inch. His pulse throbbed, his heart pounded.

  With a dull ache in the pit of his stomach, he collapsed on Amy’s bed. A hollowness at the bottom of his soul left him empty inside. A shell.

  I failed her again. My poor little girl.

  He held his face in his bleeding hands and wept. Feelings of hopelessness and loss clung to him like a heavy shroud.

  If they find her dead because of me. If they find her like those other girls—

  Before he could finish the thought, he felt a cold yet comforting hand fall like a leaf gently on his shoulder.

  Chapter 78

  “There,” Adam said excitedly. “Pull in there!”

  The piss-smelling slut behind the steering wheel did as she was told, and turned down a narrow, overgrown dirt road leading off the highway into a deep expanse of darkening woods.

  Adam stared out the window at the passing pines, shrubs, and thickets. They passed through a demolished tangle of chain-link and barbed wire, and reached the wooded ruins of what used to be the Sons of Adam Camp, or so he learned from his dreams.

  “This is it,” he said. “We’re here.” All that was left of it, however, was chunks of rotten wood, shards of broken glass, and sheets of rusted metal scattered about the undergrowth and forest refuse. “Stop the car,” Adam said, mildly disappointed.

  When they stopped in the middle of the road, Adam let go of Eve’s hair, leaned over in the back seat, and plunged his knife into the other girl’s carotid artery. “Your services here are done,” he said.

  The girl’s scream caught in her throat, severed with a gargled gasp of terror.

  Chapter 79

  Blood spurted and splattered all over Amy, who, teetering on the edge of madness, couldn’t stop herself from screaming.

  This isn’t happening. This isn’t real. It’s just some crazy dream!

  But the more Catherine’s blood sprinkled her face like a warm scarlet shower, the more the dream became a horrifying reality.

  Oh, no. Cat!

  Amy stared in shock as her friend convulsed like a fish suffocating on the sand, choking on her own blood.

  She’s dying!

  A gloved hand jerked the knife from her neck. The jagged blade glistened crimson in the waning light of evening.

  Amy stiffened. Her breath snatched in her chest.

  He’s going to kill me next!

  But before she could react, something rammed hard into the back of the Mercedes, jolting her violently forward.

  Chapter 80

  Adam was thrust into the back of Eve’s seat. Pain exploded in his head and tremored down his back, stunning him. But he held on firmly to his knife

  Looking out the back window, he glared at the boy behind the wheel of the Pathfinder. He’d noticed him following them for a few miles down the highway, but he hadn’t paid much attention to it once they pulled into the woods. In fact, he forgot all about it.

  Until it was too late.

  His blood boiled.

  Ooh, you will feel my wrath.

  As Eve descended further into hysterics Adam threw open his door, stumbled out into the fading light of day, and charged toward the Pathfinder.

  Chapter 81

  The element of surprise was what Layne was after. By wrecking into Catherine’s car, he hoped to catch the crazy man holding them hostage off guard, possibly injure him.

  It didn’t work.

  The man tore out of the back of the Mercedes, a bloodied knife clutched in his hand.

  Blood?

  Panic shot like icy venom through his heart. Layne popped open the glove compartment, grabbed his knife, and unfolded it.

  Fear and adrenaline fought a fierce battle throughout his nervous system. He kicked open the driver side door and lunged forward.

  Only to be held back by his seatbelt.

  Fuck!

  He twisted around to unlatch it when a man with murderous eyes beneath the bill of a camouflage cap appeared. He grabbed Layne by the throat and stabbed him deep in the stomach.

  Layne’s knife slipped from his hand and hit the ground.

  Chapter 82

  During her fast tumble down the stairs of sanity, Amy recalled what her father said about a blood debt and thought about her dead aunt, missing uncle, and—

  “Pappy said you’re the Lost One.”

  —the cousin to whom she was promised.

  “He almost had ya.”

  Her kidnapper, his rant about restoring Paradise, and how he was destined to find her. He called her Eve.

  “Together, we will restore Eden.”

  Could he be—

  “And Bring Paradise back to Earth.”

  —the last Son of Adam?

  Could he be Ned?

  “Get out, Eve,” he ordered, wrenching open her door and unlatching her seatbelt. “You’re coming with me!”

  A fresh bolt of terror struck her heart. In a mental fog, she attempted to fight him off.

  With a fierce shriek, Amy kicked and swung her fists, but she failed to hit her cousin, who backhanded her in the jaw with a rocky fist.

  “Stop struggling,” Ned commanded. “It’s futile to fight me. God is on my side. And you’re destined to die!”

  Through a veil of tears, Amy saw the Nightmare Man, Bubba Ray Busby, standing among the shadows, watching with a proud smile as his son finally took what he was owed.

  Beneath the bill of his cap, her cousin’s eyes gleamed with the flickering flames of fanaticism. He grabbed Amy by the hair and yanked her out of the car.

  “Now, you will be punished for your sin against man, against Eden. And against God!”

  Chapter 83

  Hannah knelt eye-level with her brother, who wiped tears from his eyes, smearing blood on his face. “I forgive you, Henry,” she said. “I only wish you can forgive yourself.”

  “I can’t.” Hank didn’t want to look at her, the ghost dressed in a brilliant white gown with golden-blond hair spilling down bare shoulders. “I’ve tried.”

  “I know you have.” She placed a hand beneath his chin. Her touch tingled like tiny ice chips in his beard. “Look at me,” she said, lifting his chin.

  Reluctantly, Hank met Hannah’s deep brown eyes, and choked back a sob.

  Her eyes reflected the sorrow coiled around his heart.

  “You did everything you could. I love you. Now let me go. You’ve been holding on to me for far too long.”

  Hank lowered his eyes and stared at the floor. “Why did you have to go back for him?”

  “He was my son. I couldn’t abandon
my child.”

  “But they caught you.”

  “It was a risk I was willing to take. You have a daughter. You know what it’s like. You always go back for your child, no matter how dangerous it might be.”

  Hank closed his eyes. A tear slid down his cheek. “I wish you could have known her. She’s my pride and joy.”

  “She’s a beautiful girl.”

  “Like her mother.” He opened his eyes and looked at his sister. “Like you.”

  “You need to let me go. For your sake, if not for hers.”

  “But I can’t. I have to know. Am I like our father?”

  Hannah shook her head. “I know the love you have for your daughter. You are nothing like him. You could never be.”

  Turning his head, he said shamefully, “I committed incest.”

  “No,” Hannah said sharply. “You didn’t.”

  “He made me hurt you.”

  “And I said I forgive you.”

  “But what about Amy?”

  Silence followed. Hank looked at his sister, who said sadly, “You can’t do anything for her now.”

  Chapter 84

  Adam struck Eve in the face. She hit the earthen floor like a brittle bag of bones, whimpering.

  He kicked her in the gut with the toe of his boot. “I’m going to enjoy this.” He slipped her skirt down her legs.

  Eve struggled to breathe. “Please,” she gasped. “No.”

  Rolling her on her back. Adam straddled her. He ripped open her blouse. The buttons popped off and flung in the air. He licked his lips like a ravenous wolf. With his knife, he sliced through her bra straps. He fondled her naked breasts.

  His erection hurt.

  Eve groaned. There was no more fight in her. She was exhausted, helpless. Adam stripped her down to her socks, and the silver necklace with the heart-shaped locket she wore around her neck “Wicked whore,” he said with a snarl, “you no longer need this trinket.” He grabbed hold of the locket. “No jewel can beautify your sin against God.” He wrenched the necklace from her neck and tossed it aside.

  Eve whimpered pathetically.

  “Time for business,” he said, reaching for the rope.

  Chapter 85

  He opened his eyes.

  Am I dying?

  He brought his hand up from his stomach. It was covered in blood.

  Am I dead?

  The pain was unbearable. He felt himself going weak.

  Must be close.

  Twilight gathered at the fringe of his vision. Shadows crept out from all corners of the woods.

  Layne was still strapped in the driver seat of the Pathfinder, feeling the life drain slowly from his body.

  I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t save her.

  I’m no hero.

  Feeling himself slipping into oblivion, his vision darkened.

  Please let there be a Heaven.

  He thought he heard someone either singing or screaming, but it was too faint and far away to know for sure.

  I don’t want to go to Hell.

  Layne stared blankly through the windshield, seeing nothing but his life dragging by.

  He saw a woman with a long, flowing mane of strawberry blond hair. Her eyes were large, dark, and expressive.

  Mom?

  She turned and walked away.

  Was that you?

  He hadn’t seen her in so long. Why did she have to leave him after the divorce? Why couldn’t she love him? Why did she reject him? Why did all the women he loved reject him?

  First his mother, then Marianne, and now Amy. What was wrong with him?

  I’m unlovable. I’m diseased.

  I’m damaged.

  Layne closed his eyes. He had no energy for self-pity. He barely had enough energy to think, to breathe.

  Only enough to die.

  But he felt something within him that refused. Something ghoulish digging its way from somewhere deep in the bowels of his damaged soul.

  Something ugly, deadly, and corrupt with sin.

  In the sixth grade, he read Robert Louis Stevenson’s The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. From that novel came the line: “Thus it came about that, where Jekyll perhaps might have succumbed, Hyde rose to the importance of the moment.”

  Layne didn’t know why he remembered that, of all things, as he sat slumped in his seatbelt, waiting for death to arrive.

  It was the last thought that ran through his brain before it shut down for good.

  Chapter 86

  “Why can’t I?”

  Hannah couldn’t answer. Her time with the living ran out. She told him it would happen. She was granted only so long.

  “Where is she?” Hank got to his feet and glanced around the empty room. He saw the overturn chair in the corner near Amy’s bookcase. He saw the broken mirror, which meant only bad luck. He felt he had his share.

  I’ve paid, damn it. I’ve paid a lot!

  He saw the shards of glass and remembered the pain in his knuckles. He saw the old photograph on the floor. It fluttered in a draft that came from nowhere.

  Hannah? Was that you?

  He picked it up, stared into the empty eyes of Bubba Ray Busby, and felt a light click on in his head.

  “You always go back for your child.”

  He knew where Amy might be.

  But he didn’t think he’d get there on time. So he hurried to the kitchen, snatched the phone, and dialed the number he knew by heart.

  “I think I know where Amy is,” he told Joe. “And who is with her. I need you to drive to Gulfcrest. No, I’m serious. I’ll be right behind you. Get an ambulance over there, too.”

  Chapter 87

  After Adam tied Eve tightly to the tree, he unzipped his pants and grabbed hold of his penis, which had grown to great lengths. “Oh, sweet agony,” he groaned, jerking his hand up and down his rigid cock, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. He swaggered over to Eve. “Never felt so good.”

  He felt Eve stiffen as he humped her leg. She whined in his ear. “I haven’t done this with the others, the decoys,” he said. “But my Pappy tells me you’re special. You belong to me, and I can do whatever I please with you.”

  He branded her, and stained her with his seed. “It ain’t a sin. It’s natural. God is pleased with the work I’m doing. He told me so.” Adam nibbled Eve’s earlobe.

  She shuddered.

  He zipped his pants and reached for a green pinecone.

  “But I’ve yet to complete the ritual.”

  Chapter 88

  Zero opened his eyes.

  I’m not dead.

  He looked down at the stab wound in his stomach, and smiled.

  I’m alive.

  He breathed in the pine-scented air.

  He smelled blood.

  It awakened a hunger for ultra-violence, for inflicting pain and fear, for causing death.

  Oh, I can’t wait to do it!

  It was his dying wish.

  Chapter 89

  Amy thought she knew about pain.

  She had no idea.

  The times as a child when her father beat her; the night she slit her wrist; the night her mother died. None of that was as bad as what was happening to her now. As Ned thrust the pine cone in that sacred place between her legs, nothing was worse.

  So she did what she always did when bad things happened to her: she sought sanctuary in darkness and slipped into herself. No longer able to scream or cry, she closed her eyes and found her happy place.

  She found her mother, the goddess captured no more.

  Her beautiful wings unbound and unfurled. Amy watched her as she soared high in the sky above the trees with her colorful feathers licking the sweet autumn air.

  She smiled up at the freed goddess, even as the pain ripped through her body like a hungry chain saw, raping her of innocence and beauty.

  With the goddess, she was not bound to some tree. Ropes did not eat at the flesh around her wrists and ankles. A bad man did not do bad things to her like a
ll the other men had in her life.

  “We are all captured.”

  Not anymore. Here in her sanctuary, Amy was safe.

  Amy was free.

  Chapter 90

  Adam pulled the bloody pine cone out of the serpent’s nest located between Eve’s trembling thighs and thrust it back in.

  Over and over again, he punished her for what she did to mankind: for damning them to a flawed, sinful existence. But Eve stopped screaming, and he was drained. The ritual was no longer exciting to him. The game had grown old, and his penis grown flaccid. He withdrew the bloody pinecone.

  “Open your eyes,” he demanded.

  Eve did.

  Through her tears, he could see there was nothing left of her.

  “Have you atoned for your sin? Do you feel your punishment was due?”

  She only stared blankly into the twilight with a look of loss and abandon. She didn’t answer.

  “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “The time for reckoning is nigh.”

  He dropped the pinecone and picked up his knife. Breathing heavily, he said, “this is it. Paradise shall be restored once the earth swallows your blood, in acceptance of the sacrifice.”

  Adam grabbed Eve by a clump of hair and thrust her head back against the tree. He looked into her dead eyes and leaned in for a kiss.

  But her lips were pressed tightly together, and they tasted bitter and cold to his tongue.

  “That’s all right,” he said, pressing the knife up to her throat. “Your kiss is death, and you die now.”

  Chapter 91

  When Zero jumped from the Pathfinder, he winced in pain.

  Someone had stabbed him, and his wound hurt like hell.

  He wished he knew who had done it so he could return the favor before he finally bled to death. Looking down at the wound, he noticed a knife in a blanket of pine-straw.