“They’d know.” She steered us back toward the small road that led down the hill. “Who knows what Damian would do to her.”
“The police can’t help?”
“There’s too many of them on the inside now,” she said. “It’s just a fantasy. Forget it.”
She drove us past the small town on the water where we’d gone the first day. It still looked deserted. I glimpsed the Hudson just beyond, the spot that’d captured my imagination. I played our kiss in the gazebo over in my head and I felt light in my heart. I turned to her and noticed how tired she looked. Maybe it was the streetlights, but she looked somehow even paler than before. Flurries soon surrounded us, and by the time we made it to the foot of the Tappan Zee bridge, we found ourselves in the middle of a howling storm.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Do you mind if I turn off for a little while?” Minarette put a CD in the player. Tribal drums looped through primitive-sounding chants, all wrapped in new age synthesizers. The group was called Flowers from Heaven, and I made a note to grab a copy for myself. Meanwhile, Minarette had gone terribly quiet and nearly expressionless. I kept to myself, watched the snow covered scenery pass by, and ran over the last few days. I felt so lucky to have had a “lost weekend” with her. Even though she was in her own space and the all-American voluptuous blonde I’d first met had turned into a cool Gothic angel, I still loved her the same. It was the same person inside. Of course, both versions of her were striking and gorgeous.
The music got louder. Minarette seemed to be in a trance. We passed over the Tappan Zee Bridge, and I loved how the snow whipped at us. It felt dangerous, but safely so—kind of like a roller coaster. Thrilling, but you know you’re not going to fall off or crash or anything drastic. Below, the waves surged and crested violently. Were the beings I thought I’d seen just under the waves hidden in some underwater cave? Or were they surfing the currents, gleefully enjoying the ride like we were?
After the bridge, the roads became more familiar to me. New Jersey was an alien world, even though it was just across the river. I’d never spent any time there before, but I found it charming and wonderful. Especially because it was where she’d come from.
The first track on the CD was long, and the second felt longer. It was even more intense, with more exotic instruments added in, and the vocalizations almost sounded like words if you paid attention. Looking to Minarette, I held my look for a minute to see if she’d react. I hoped she’d say something. She didn’t. Outside, the built-up sections on the outskirts of New York City slowly gave way to long stretches of hills and darkness. We weren’t taking I-95 back, but were heading home on the more rural Merritt Parkway route. I was glad. It was much prettier and less stressful. I let myself zone out into the music, leaning my head against the passenger-side window.
We drove for at least another half an hour. The storm worsened and the road filled with thick snow and ice. It was obviously becoming a challenge for Minarette to keep driving. “You okay?” I asked.
“Fine,” she said. She still sounded so damn far away. “I do think I need to stop in a bit, though. Just for a bit.”
We soon came upon a small gas station convenience store. Even though it was part of a chain, it looked rustic and homey. She pulled in and got out of the car with little fanfare. “I think I’ll hit the bathroom, too,” I said. Again, she didn’t respond. In fact, Minarette didn’t even go toward the bathrooms. She made her way past the glassed-in office where they rung you up, and disappeared around the bend. I thought maybe I should have stayed close—that maybe she’d leave and strand me. The cold and snow forced my hand. I didn’t want to wait. When I went inside, I was struck by a gruesome smell; it was as though someone had microwaved seafood for too long and it’d burned.
As far as I could tell, there was no help anywhere in the place. There’d been cars parked outside, but none at the pumps and none that I could see arriving. I shrugged it off, thinking the storm had just kept folks home. Had to be all it was. I told myself that I might as well hit the can while I was inside, so I did. The bathroom was empty, too. I made my way back outside, where the snowflakes had started coming down in bigger pieces.
Minarette stood just past her car. She looked like a ghost. Her face seemed empty. When she saw me, she didn’t appear to react. Instead, she simply opened her car door and slipped inside. I rushed up to the car, nearly falling on the slippery sidewalk on my way. The door handle stuck a little from being frozen.
The car was nearly as cold inside. “Wow,” I said. “It’s really coming down.”
Still nothing from her. The engine was running and her seatbelt was on. She put it into drive as I put on my seatbelt. I nearly smashed into the dashboard. By that time, I’d really become upset at how cold she was. She was so damn moody, and I didn’t think it was fair. I had the distinct feeling she was hiding something from me. Why did everything always have to be a secret with her? It sucked. I gunned the gas, and soon we were back on the highway. All I could think about was how far away she was from me. I convinced myself she must have thought our tryst was a mistake and that she’d drop me off and drop the bomb on me that she wouldn’t see me again. It had to be coming. I just knew it. Sucked. Even though I tried to think of what to say to break her from her spell, my mind kept going blank.
To think that only a few hours earlier, we’d been making love. She’d switched off so quickly.
That last stretch on the cold, dark highway felt intense, and I soon thought I would burst. Fuck it, I thought. Make her say something. This is stupid. “Look? If I did something wrong, just tell me. If you want to break up, just let me know. We can move on. But I hate that you’re just sitting there and not speaking at all to me. What the hell?”
She let out a heavy sigh. The car went faster…so much faster. She’d stepped on the gas. We fishtailed a little, but Minarette didn’t flinch. No. She cried. In an instant, tears streamed down, and then they were colored with streaks of dark red, and then those became dark.
“I’m sorry.”
That’s all she said.
“What?”
“There wasn’t…I didn’t have a choice.”
“Minarette?”
The car slowed down. We were near what looked like another turn off—an exit maybe. It was hard to see in the blinding snow.
My heart was in my throat.
“I think it’s just up here,” she said.
“What is?” I asked. “What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry.” Minarette slowed the car. “They’re inside my head.”
“Who?” But I knew whom she referred to.
“Damian. The beast. Them,” she said. “They found me. They found us. They were outside. Watching.”
Everything inside me went cold. Of course they were.
She went on. “It’s you for her. They have my mother.”
“How do you know this?” I asked. “Did they call you? Is that where you went?”
She put a finger to the side of her head as if it were a gun. “They told me in here. Saw it. See it.”
The car pulled to a stop. A few yards away, I saw the drive-on to a bridge. I recognized it but couldn’t place it. “Where are we?” I asked. “What’s happening?”
“I didn’t have a choice. Please know that. Don’t remember me this way. It’s not my fault. This is not what I wanted.”
“Let’s go back. We can get your mom. Fight them off.”
She shook her head. “I can’t. Not anymore. I’m in the last stages. Can’t you see? That’s it for me. The end of line.”
“No. Not tonight. I don’t believe any of it.” But I did. I knew she wasn’t lying. At least about her selling me out.
“They promised they’d let you go soon and this whole thing would be over. They’re ready to go to a new town. They want to.”
“I can’t lose you. Not
like this.”
She held out her hand and I took it. She was cold and her skin was stiff.
“Please remember me as you know me in my heart. Not like this. Not from tonight. I’ll always be in your heart.”
My face went numb, then my body. “You’re breaking up with me. I knew it.”
“I’m dying. Tonight. Soon.” Her cheeks were wet, stained with dark tears. “I love you.”
I said, “I love you.” My eyes watered. I couldn’t help it. “Don’t go. Not like this. We can—”
“No.” She shook her head. “Time’s up for me, my wonderful Rick. I’m sorry.” Minarette turned away. “Don’t make this any harder on me. Please. Just go. Know that I love you. Really. And I wish I’d met you years ago. Maybe things would have been different. Maybe another place and another time. I really do love you, and I’m sorry. I loved every second I had with you, and I chose to spend the last of what I had with you.”
“Minarette?”
She sobbed. She wouldn’t answer me back. She turned the music up and turned her back to me. I nearly had to cover my ears from the volume.
Ahead of us, from the opposite lane, a large black Cadillac swerved over, nearly clipped us and parked in front of us. The doors opened. I recognized some of the thugs from the Universe. Last, emerging from the driver’s side, Damian rose. He smiled right at me and pointed. In a flash they were on us.
Chapter Twenty-Six
How could they have opened the door so quickly? How could I have been so stupid that I hadn’t locked it? Their hands were on me and pulled me out of Minarette’s car. I quickly wondered how they’d managed to undo my seatbelt. The last thing I saw was Minarette, her back to me, shaking. Was she crying? My foot hit my window and it smashed. I heard her holler, her voice high-pitched and angry.
They stood me up. My feet went into the snow, and they quickly froze as it went down inside my shoes. There were two of them, each holding an arm like vise grips. I tried to wiggle free, but of course couldn’t do a damn thing.
Damian strolled up to me from my left side. He’d also gotten much more pale than I remembered him. His dark eyes glistened. I couldn’t see pupils or anything inside them, only the reflection of falling snow. He smiled. “Gotcha.” The thugs pushed me forward and he leaned down and kissed my forehead. “We’re going for one last ride.”
“Minarette?” I was desperate and hoped she’d come to me and call them off. Her betrayal couldn’t be real. She just couldn’t have sold me out.
Glass broke behind me. She screamed. Then silence again.
“Don’t hurt her.”
Damian shook his head just a little before pointing at the Cadillac. The thugs pushed me forward, my feet dragging in the snow.
The one to my right opened the rear driver’s-side door and moved in, pulling me inside so that I sat between them. I was their prisoner.
Then I saw Minarette, escorted by another thug, heading for the front passenger side. At least they hadn’t seemed to hurt her.
I looked at the thug next to me, but he seemed so faceless and generic. He had dark hair. He was pale, like Minarette and Damian, and his eyes were shiny and black. Somehow his features had been minimized and nearly erased. Maybe the Ghost Heart had done that to him, or maybe Xyx had, or Damian. Who knew? The same went for the others. They all reminded me of over polished rocks, devoid of ridges, bumps and any character.
In the rearview, I saw her car, the windows smashed, snow blowing inside. Moments before, it’d been a sanctuary. It’d been lost in a second. Our last moments before the end. It looked haunted and lonely. Minarette was pushed inside so she sat in the middle of the front seat. She didn’t look behind or make eye contact. In fact, I swore she did what she could not to do so.
Damian settled in behind the wheel; he grinned ear to ear. He turned the key and pressed a button. The roof of the Cadillac retracted as we got on the road. I hadn’t noticed it being a convertible.
I froze immediately. The wind and snow whipped us.
The Cadillac went faster and faster. Minarette’s long black hair fanned out behind her. I wanted to touch it. I still loved her. How could I not? Even though she’d betrayed me at the most profound level.
I had to squint. My face felt like ice. My eyes watered.
The ride felt like forever.
How come there were no other cars on the roads? No cops?
Of course. It was a horrendous blizzard. Who’d be out on the parkway? No one in their right mind.
Damian lit up a cigar. He was unaffected by the cold. He could have been in Southern California, cruising Sunset Strip, listening to the Beach Boys instead of gunning it through an East Coast snowstorm.
The Cadillac swerved, fishtailing severely.
Damian laughed. His thugs laughed.
“Here we go!” His voice was deep and loud.
He stepped on the gas. The Caddy jerked impossibly forward, went even faster and straightened out.
The snow fell so hard and fast there was no way I could tell where we were. Everything was a blanket of white around us. Maybe some outlines of trees. That was it.
I never wanted out of a car more in my life, even though Minarette was there.
He was going to kill us.
Well, me, at least.
That much I knew.
He sucked on the cigar real hard. The cherry lit up bright, a red light in the storm. As soon as he exhaled, the damn cherry blew off and fell right near my left side. No one bothered to get it; it burned me through my pants. I jiggled around to get away from it. The thug on my left spotted it, grabbed it and threw it out with his bare hands.
Then the Cadillac went faster, faster, faster.
The tail swerved.
Damian steered into it at first.
A final push for speed.
I felt the wheels struggling to keep purchase in the snow.
Damian jerked the wheel hard right.
The Cadillac turned.
We pointed at a railing.
Just beyond I saw darkness.
The loudest sound ripped around us as we crashed through the railing.
We were weightless.
My stomach lifted inside me like it was on a bed of water.
The nose of the Cadillac tilted down and I saw we were headed to a snake-like black road. No. Not a road. A river. A huge river.
Were they screaming? I think so. The wind was so loud that was all I think I heard.
We hit the water.
Sound a million times more intense—so loud. Screams. The water parting. The Cadillac crashing around us. We didn’t hit nose first. The back of the car had tilted back, making us land more on the front tire and axle.
I felt my brain shake in my skull. I imagined my brain shook loose like it was being scooped from inside a Halloween pumpkin. Every bone reverberated violently inside me. I pictured them turning to splinters and powder, fatally ripping apart my insides.
For a minute there was no pain. I felt nothing at all other than the grasps on my arms. They’d held me the entire time.
I did not pass out. It did not jump to black; it jumped to pain.
They pulled me from the smashed Cadillac. I spotted the bridge above and the broken rail. It looked to be about two hundred feet.
My pain was so intense I can’t begin to describe it. Every bit of me hurt in some way. I felt moist inside, near my legs, stomach and chest. Internal bleeding. If I didn’t get to a hospital, I’d be a goner. Every instinct inside me knew it. I looked around for Minarette and Damian, but they were behind me. The thugs walked with our backs to the car. Hope she’s okay, I thought. Please.
Then, as they dragged me through the freezing water, my body gave up and I passed out.
* * * * *
They carried me. I can only recall snippets of their vo
ices and of the areas surrounding us. The snow, of course, kept falling. They were laughing. Not Minarette. I don’t remember seeing or hearing her the entire time.
They’re bringing me into the middle of the woods to bury my body.
As I revived, the pain returned full force.
The watery feelings inside me grew, and I thought about how I had always been told you couldn’t feel anything inside your body—that your organs didn’t have nerves. Something like that. Whatever I’d heard wasn’t true. I hurt deep inside and I was on my funeral march.
I thought about Minarette. How could she have turned on me so profoundly? I tried to remember what she’d said in the car right before Damian came. She’d said she loved me. Said she really and truly loved me. Then why? How could she do this to someone she said she loved?
She’d said she had no choice, and that they’d found her. It was her mom or me, and they had told us they were going to let me go and move on. Letting me go, though, probably meant killing me. Letting me go into the great big nothing. That was probably what they meant.
Then I was on the ground. I looked down and saw why I felt wet in my belly. There was a big gash. I saw pink and white inside, like when you peel the cheese off pizza.
God oh God that’s bad that’s bad.
They saw it, too.
Damian looked down at me. He smiled. “You suffer like no one I’ve ever met. It’s wonderful to watch.” He knelt down and stuck his head near my belly. “Nothing like the taste of a man who’s about to die.” His razor tongue slipped from his mouth and went inside the wound. Fiery pain shot through me, worse than anything.
Please stop. Please don’t.
Was I talking? Or was it in my head?
My head spun from pain and fear.
I’m dying. This is it. The end.
His tongue stopped. “That should keep me for a while,” he said. Then, without incident, Damian was gone. All that just so he could get a belly full of a scared, dying man’s blood.
Fuck him.
I looked up at the white sky. Snowflakes fell on me. They melted on my face. I couldn’t move. All the strength was gone. My body started shutting down. My soul connected to the great big transition machine—dialed in and the line opened up. I sensed it. There was peace inside me. My thoughts drifted up and away from my body. I felt it more than I saw it.
Ghost Heart Page 23
