by Mia Frances
He nodded his head. "Yeah. That's about right."
"Was the other one taller or shorter?"
"Shorter I think, but it's hard to tell. It all happened so fast."
"Now think hard. It's very important. Did you see a gun? Try to remember," she pleaded.
"I don't think so, but I was so scared, all I wanted to do was get out of there. I can't be sure."
"Let's hope they're unarmed," she said, pulling the ax from her belt.
"What are you going to do?" The boy's eyes fixed on the weapon.
"You said they were walking slow. Chances are they haven't gotten to the cabin yet. I'm going to find out how many of them there are, what they want, and whether they're armed.
"Then what?"
"Well I'm not going to let them take our home away, that's for sure," she told him, the words having a ferocity and resolve that surprised him. "I'm not going to run. I'm going to fight to keep what's mine"
"But how?"
"I'll try to scare them away, make some noise, maybe even shoot a few arrows their way."
"What if they don't scare?"
"Then I'll do whatever has to be done."
"You're not going to kill them are you?" he asked, horrified.
There was a long pause before she answered, the words spoken in a barely audible whisper. "If necessary. But let's hope it doesn't come to that. If they force us out, we'll die," she said, trying to make him understand. "Even if we could find shelter, how would we eat; how would we keep warm? Everything's here! As it stands, it's them or us Charles, I don't see how we have any other choice."
"But maybe they don't mean us any harm. Maybe they're just as scared as we are."
Alex shifted her gaze to the ground. Charles was thinking back to the day she'd come upon him and his sister in the woods; but Alex was thinking of another time when she'd been at the mercy of a vicious stranger. She wouldn't let it happen again! This time she'd fight back! Alex clutched the ax to her breast. It was her land, her home; and she intended to keep it!
Chapter 13
Alex winced as a twig snapped beneath her feet. She froze, afraid to move, fearing the noise had carried, alerting the strangers. She strained, listening for sounds of movement, but didn't hear anything. They must be close by, but where? She'd come nearly a quarter mile, yet had seen no sign of them. Had they turned back? That seemed too much to hope for. Even though a cold wind was blowing, Alex found herself drenched in sweat. Where the fuck were they? Had they scattered into the woods, ready to storm the cabin? How could they have slipped by her? It had been at least a half hour, possibly more, since Charles first saw them. It didn't make sense! Alex should have seen them by now.
She moved ahead, one slow step at a time, peering through the branches at the narrow dirt swath cutting through the forest. The tall, brown grass that lined the snow-dusted ruts appeared untrampled, the brush and branches undisturbed. She stopped, wondering if she should turn back. Perhaps she'd blundered, maybe they'd veered off the road, and were, at this very moment, surrounding the camp. Reason gave way to panic. She and the children had fashioned a maze of trails through the woods that led off in all directions. The strangers might have stumbled across one and decided to follow it. If that were true, she could only hope they'd gotten lost. Only two, narrow, well-hidden trails led straight to the cabin. They ran parallel to the road, 100 feet on either side of it. If they'd taken one of those, she'd have either run smack into them or heard them tramping through the bushes on the opposite side. Neither had happened. Alex looked around and tried to think. They'd barricaded the road some 2500 feet from the camp: rolling in large rocks, dragging in uprooted trees, and even putting in bushes and saplings to give the impression that the road had come to an abrupt end. A good ten trails led off from there, zigzagging through the trees toward snares and trap lines, into marshes and foraging areas. If they'd gotten turned around, misjudged the direction and distance, they could be anywhere. She bit her lip, nervously scanning the surrounding forest. After hesitating a moment, she moved on, hoping she was going in the right direction.
Alex had only gone a few feet when she heard something. Coming from up ahead. Faint, but definitely there. Summoning her courage, she began making her way toward it. Hands shaking, she pulled one of the axes from her belt, and, holding it at the ready, crept closer. It was no louder than a whisper. Alex listened closely, trying to make sense of it. Though unintelligible for the most part, she was sure she heard the words heartily, offended, and detest, but then the wind kicked up and she couldn't make out any more.
The words seemed vaguely familiar, following after each other the way they did, yet she couldn't place them. She inched closer, her heart pounding, feeling as though it would burst through her chest any second now. The words kept tumbling around in her brain. Where had she heard them before? She cocked her head to the side, turning her ear to listen, but the voice was drowned out by creaking branches and swishing pine boughs. Only one small phrase made sense: "confess my sins." Or at least that's what it sounded like to her. Something seized her from behind. Terrified, she squirmed and twisted trying to break its hold. Unable to escape, she raised the ax and turned to confront her attacker, breathing a profound sigh of relief when she saw that it was nothing more than a berry bush whose thorns had become embedded in the fabric of her jacket. Irritated, she lurched forward, the cloth ripping as she pulled herself free. She immediately regretted the action, cringing as the branches snapped back, producing loud thwacks.
Alex stood perfectly still, worried the strangers might have heard. The murmurs continued, though it was more like sobbing now. The sequence she'd heard played over and over in her head, like a grating broken record, until, finally, it came to her. It was a prayer, the Act of Contrition. She didn't think someone uttering those words would harm others, however, in a world where it was either kill or be killed, she had to assume the worst. Alex continued on, taking care not to be heard, uncertain what she'd do when it came time to confront them.
The sobs grew louder. They were close by, no more than 50 or 100 feet away. She disappeared into a tangle of cedar trees, silently maneuvering between the branches. The intruders were just the other side of them. Alex couldn't see much except for glimpses of color. Holding her breath, afraid to even breathe, she gingerly pushed the boughs aside. It took her a second to focus. There were two figures. One was lying in the road, while the other knelt beside it crying, her back to Alex. She couldn't see either face. The one kneeling was draped head to toe in a blanket, making it impossible to determine the sex. Both appeared small in stature and the voice was high-pitched. Charles said he thought one of them was a woman, perhaps they both were. Though that didn't make them any less dangerous, it did shift the odds somewhat in Alex's favor. At least she had a fighting chance. The kneeling figure began rocking slowly back and forth, her pathetic sobs echoing off the trees. Her body convulsed, then fell forward across her companion, the blanket slipping down, revealing a mane of tangled brown hair and then her face.
Alex gasped. The skin was ashen, the features distorted, the body so wasted that it was little more than a skeleton. The eyes were sunken back into the skull and ringed by dark circles. She couldn't make out the color only that they looked haunted. Alex studied the feature. The face was that of a stranger, and yet… Oh my God! Alex frantically pushed her way through the branches, sprinting toward the road.
Alarmed by the noise, the figure turned, eyes fearful and wild, whimpering like a terrified animal. As Alex emerged from the cover of the trees, the woman clapped a bony hand to her mouth, then, rising rockily to her feet, staggered forward, collapsing to her knees, her shaking arms reaching out to embrace Alex's legs.
Emotion overwhelmed her as she gathered her sister into her arms, holding tight as the frail figure wept. "It's all right Cat. You're safe now," she reassured her. Alex hadn't dared hope they might still be alive. She'd given them up for dead. Seeing her now was like seeing a ghost. Alex cried tears
of joy as she gazed down at her sister. After a moment, she turned to the other figure, laying motionless on the ground, a ragged, filthy blanket pulled up over its head. Her elation faded.
"Tori?" she called out in dismay. "Tori?" The figure lay still and unmoving. "Cat is that Tori?"
Cat nodded, hiding her face in Alex's jacket.
"What's the matter with her? Why is she covered up like that? Is she…is she dead?" Alex asked, the words catching in her throat as she stared at the blanket.
Cat nodded again, sobbing.
"Jesus, no!" she wailed, unwilling to believe it. Alex pried herself free of her sister's hold and took a tentative step toward the still form.
"No!" Cat protested, "Let her be. She's at peace now. She's with God!"
Alex seemed not to hear, as she moved slowly toward the body.
"We got as far as Saratoga," she said in a shaking voice. There were people everywhere. Sick. Injured. Bleeding. Dying. So many that there was no place to put them all. They were laying in the streets, shivering in the cold. We were searching for Stan, Brian, and Matt, but we couldn't find them. Nobody in the city survived it! Nobody could have! We took refuge in a church, helping the priest care for the sick and injured, but Tori wouldn't stay. Every day she combed the streets, checking the shelters, looking into every face, praying that one of them would be Brian's. She refused to believe he was dead. One day she disappeared. She went home, back to her house, or what was left of it. I found her there, laying in the ashes, wrapped in rags to keep warm. The house had burned to the ground, only the foundation and chimney were still standing. She was waiting for Brian, staying alive by drinking water that collected on the pool cover and digging in the rubble for food. It was contaminated, all of it. She wouldn't leave though, not until I convinced her that Brian was waiting here at the camp for her. But it was already too late. She was sick: coughing blood, vomiting. She couldn't keep anything down. She was in such pain," she wailed, struggling to get to her feet.
Alex knelt beside the body, then looked back at her sister, an uneasy feeling growing in the pit of her belly. She reached for the blanket, but was quickly intercepted by Cat, who grabbed her arm, pulling it away.
"Don't! Don't!" she pleaded.
Alex studied her sister's face. What she saw there unsettled her. She jerked her arm free, grabbing the corner of the blanket. As she drew it back, Cat crumpled to the ground, whimpering. Alex took a deep breath and slowly pulled the cover back. Tori's luxurious auburn hair was matted. Her scalp riddled with open sores. Mustering her courage, Alex drew it down further, shocked to see that her eyes were still open, staring lifeless from dark sockets. Alex placed a trembling hand on the lids, and closed them. As her fingers brushed the pale flesh, she was momentarily startled by its warmth. Tori had died only minutes ago. Alex tenderly touched her sister's cheek, trying to remember her as she once was, the shy smile, the gentle eyes. It was a cruel twist of fate that she should die now, after enduring so much, when she was so close to reuniting with her kids and family. But then what a waste it was that she'd died at all. It shouldn't have happened! She'd been given a chance to survive, but had chosen death instead. Tori had been a sad tormented soul in life, but dead she looked almost serene. It appeared her path to the grave had been a torturous one, filled with misery and pain. Had she died of starvation? Exposure? Radiation sickness? What did it matter now!
Alex laid her hand on the blanket and was appalled when a dark red liquid oozed out. Blood! But from where? There was none around her nose or mouth to indicate she'd been bleeding internally. Alex felt that same twinge of uneasiness again. She looked at Cat, who was now on her knees, hands waving above her head as she sniffled and prayed.
Alex turned back to the body. Grabbing ahold of the blanket, she swallowed hard, ripping it away. She gagged when she saw what it concealed. Squeezing her eyes shut, Alex turned away in revulsion, her cries of horror and outrage drowning out every other sound. She hunched over, her stomach roiling, drool dripping from her mouth. Her screams were replaced by the sound of retching as she vomited. Her head spinning, she rose to her feet. She tried to focus, again coming face to face with her sister's grisly remains. The blood soaked body. Its throat slashed. Head nearly severed. Gashes up and down her arms as though she'd tried to defend herself. Her chest a mass of crimson puncture wounds. Alex staggered, then stumbled to the ground. "Cat! What the fuck did you do?" she shrieked.
Alex knelt there for what seemed like an eternity, listening to Cat's mad babbling. She was praying, but who the fuck was she praying for? Tori was dead, all the prayers in the world wouldn't resurrect her! Alex studied her older sister, she was curled up in a ball now, as though expecting to be attacked. Cat could pray all she wanted, but no amount of prayer could wash the blood from her hands.
Forcing herself to her feet and averting her eyes, Alex reached for the blanket and threw it back over the body. It didn't do any good; the image would be forever fixed in her brain. She felt weak, like the slightest breeze would knock her over.
When Alex approached her, Cat began to scream, elbows pressed protectively over her head. She was terrified. When she was little and had done something wrong, Cat would retreat to a dark corner in the hall closet, huddling there, much like she was now, awaiting the punishment that would assuage her guilt and cleanse her soul of sin.
"Cat," Alex said gently, "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to know why?"
"I'm sorry!" she whimpered, cringing.
Alex dropped to her knees beside her sister, hand reaching out to pat her shoulder.
Cat reacted as though stung. "Through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault," she screamed, slamming her fist into her breast again and again.
"Cat, stop it! Stop it!" she ordered, grabbing for her arm. But her sister began crawling away.
"Thou shalt not kill!" she screamed, as her fist collided with her temple, opening a gash that sent a stream of blood down her cheek. "Thou shalt not kill!" she repeated as her hand again slammed into her skull. She was clenching a sharp rock.
Alex lunged for Cat, knocking her over and pinning her arm, trying to keep her from hurting herself. But her sibling fought back. In her frenzy, Cat was super strong and uncontrollable. Alex reared back and let loose a stinging slap to her sister's face. It momentarily stunned her. Alex quickly seized Cat's hand and banged it on the ground again and again until she let loose the jagged stone. Cat was quiet now, her eyes saucerlike and unblinking, yet seeming to see nothing. Alex took Cat in her arms and started to rock her like a baby, remembering back to her childhood when two gangly figures would steel into her bed at night, and together the three would keep the monsters hiding in the closet and under the bed at bay. How simple it was back then; they'd huddle together and like magic their terror would recede. How sad that the demons that tormented them now weren't so easily banished.
"I couldn't let her suffer anymore," she whimpered, trying to justify what she'd done. "She was so sick and helpless. She couldn't eat. Everything she put in her stomach came back up, even water. She was so weak she could barely walk. And she had fits, convulsions, her eyes rolling back in her head. She was like a baby, shitting herself and peeing her pants. She didn't want to live like that. She wanted to die. I prayed for God to take her, but she kept on living, each new day worse then the last. She'd hardly the strength to stand. I had to hold her up, help her walk, carry or drag her when she couldn't. I was so tired!" Her eyes opened wider, head twisting slowly to look at the body. Cat shuddered as she tried to go on. "I couldn't hold her up anymore. She fell. Tori was thrashing around on the ground, her arms and legs jerking. She kept making these awful gurgling sounds. She didn't even sound human anymore. I couldn't stand it! If she'd been a dog or a cat and was suffering like that, you'd do something about it, wouldn't you?" She turned back to Alex. "You'd put her out of her misery. End her suffering. Help her die!" She clutched the material of Alex's jacket, eyes wild, as though she were reliving the
moment. "She was squirming on the ground like a snake, like a helpless animal. I begged God to do something! End it. But nothing happened. She kept writhing, her arms and legs flapping and twitching, her face contorted. All you could see was the whites of her eyes. I kept thinking about Muffin and how I cried when she got sick. Daddy said she had to be put down, put to sleep. Mom said that if we really loved her, we wouldn't want to see her suffer. That keeping her alive was the cruelty, not putting her to death. I loved her," she cried. "She was my little sister, I was supposed to take care of her. I had to stop her suffering. God wouldn't do it, so I had to. He wouldn't kill her, so I did." Cat grew quiet, her thoughts turning inward, her face that of a confused child's. "I killed her," Cat whispered softly, "I killed my own sister."
Though Alex held her, she had no words of comfort for her sister. She was numb. Cat had slashed and stabbed Tori repeatedly. Alex had read enough murder mysteries to know the wounds on Tori's arms were defensive. This wasn't a mercy killing. It was murder!
"I had a knife. I had it in my power to end her pain and send her soul to heaven. It was my duty. My duty because I loved her." She studied Alex's face for some sign that her sister understood why she had to kill Tori. But all she saw was shock, disgust, and suspicion. "I cut her wrist first, but I was so afraid of hurting her that I didn't cut deep enough. So I held her arm down and kept slashing until her hand and arm were covered with blood." Cat was spitting out words faster and faster, her eyes intense, bulging from their sockets. "But she wouldn't stop wriggling. She wouldn't die! Tori didn't scream. She was quiet except for this awful gurgling sound coming from her throat. I cut the veins in her other arm too. Blood was spurting everywhere, but she kept squirming. So I took the knife and stabbed her, and kept stabbing her, but she wouldn't lay still!" Cat was shaking her head hysterically, her clenched hand stabbing the air. "I stabbed harder and harder, trying to drive the knife into her heart, to put her out of her misery, but I didn't have the strength. She kept arching her back; that long thin neck looking like it would snap. Her skin was so pale I could see the veins in her throat. I took the knife and ripped them open. The blood sprayed out like a fountain. So much blood I started to cry. But I knew I had to be strong; I had to finish it for Tori's sake. I got behind her and cupped her chin in my hand and I pulled till her neck was stretched out. Then I took the knife and I dug it into her throat and kept cutting until she laid quiet. I ended her pain," she whimpered. "I loved her that much!"
