Fingers in the Mist

by O'Dell Hutchison

  “I know, but I’m going to get him back. Chas, too.” I squeeze his hand in reassurance, and he looks at me, puzzled.

  “How? They’re gone. They’re not coming back.”

  “There’s a way.” I catch a glimpse of my grandmother walking in my direction. It’s time to leave. “I can’t go into it right now, but just trust me, okay?”

  “It’s time to go home, Cait,” my grandmother says, placing a hand on my shoulder.

  I follow her and Dad toward home, only half listening to their hushed conversation of funeral arrangements and flowers. When we reach the edge of the church parking lot, Miss Simmons appears out of nowhere, staring at me with that strange stoic expression of hers. She’s like a professional creeper.

  She approaches us, her eyes trained on me the entire time. She opens her arms like she expects me to run to her. Okay, creepy lady with killer fashion sense who I don’t really know. What’s up with the hug attempt?

  Nana swoops in for the rescue, stepping between us. “Is there something I can help you with, Traci?”

  “No,” Miss Simmons says, her eyes never leaving my face. “I just wanted to offer my condolences for your loss.”

  A shiver runs down my spine. There’s something familiar about her, but I can’t place it. It freaks me out a little.

  “We appreciate that,” my father says.

  Miss Simmons flinches and looks away, as though it pains her to look at him.

  “You should be getting home,” Nana says. I can’t ignore the warning tone in her voice.

  “Of course,” Miss Simmons says. “Be safe.”

  When we get home, I notice that Judy’s body is gone. The only sign that anything happened last night is the plywood that garnishes the picture window at the front of the house.

  “Will she come back? Will they make her one of them?” I ask Nana after my father has stepped inside.

  “No. She’s gone,” Nana says, pointedly. “She wasn’t needed.”

  I nod and go inside to change. How do they decide who comes back? Obviously, Monique came back because her dad is like the king of Redeemer land, but why not Judy or Mr. Edwards?

  When I return, I find a plate of ham-and-cheese sandwiches waiting on the table with a note from my grandmother.

  You have to eat. Don’t let them go to waste. Get some rest.

  Love,

  Nana

  I can’t imagine eating right now, but surprisingly enough my stomach growls. I place two of the sandwiches on a plate along with some chips and a couple of cookies, and then grab a bottle of water and carry it back to my dad’s room. I tap on the door to announce my arrival before pushing it open. He sits in bed, staring blankly at the wall in front of him.

  I place the plate and bottle of water on the nightstand. “Nana left some sandwiches and cookies. You need to eat.”

  “Thanks,” he says, without really looking at me. “You’re a good girl. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  Is this how it’s going to be if I don’t save Mitch? The two of us moping around sharing awkward conversations and uncomfortable silences? It can’t.

  “Everything will be all right. We’ll get through this.” His voice is hollow and unconvincing. I stare at his face, studying him, wondering if he really believes this. It’s like he’s not here. Ever since the Gathering this morning he seems different.

  “Get some rest.” I say, closing the door behind me.

  I sit at the kitchen table, my eyes trained on the plywood covering the window. The silence of the house is deafening without Mitch’s constant chatter. I find myself humming a Lady Gaga song just to keep from going insane. I light a couple of candles on the table and then pick up one of the sandwiches. The minute I bite into it I realize just how hungry I am. Before I know it, I’ve started on a second. I polish off a bag of chips and two cookies before my stomach finally tells me it’s had enough.

  I blow out the candles and walk into the living room. A damp chill hangs in the air, my fingers are icicles. I’ve never started a fire before in my life, but somehow I manage to get at least a small one going with a newspaper and a match. I throw a log into the fireplace, hoping it will take off. I collapse on the sofa, too exhausted to bother climbing the stairs, and before I know it, I’m asleep.

  I awaken to the sounds of creaking floor boards. The fire in the fireplace barely smolders and there’s a definite chill in the air. The room is dark without the blaze of the fire, and I can barely see the silhouette of someone standing in the kitchen.

  “Dad? Is that you?” Duh, Cait. Who else could it be?

  “No, it’s me,” Trevor says, stepping into the living room.

  “How long have you been here?” I ask, sitting up and massaging the crick in my neck.

  “Not long. I didn’t want to wake you. Is it okay that I’m here?” He stands before me, his hands in his pockets.

  “Yeah, of course. Just don’t let the Redeemers find you.”

  “It’s chilly in here.” He crouches next to the fireplace and throws a few newspapers inside. He pokes it a few times with the fireplace poker and it blazes, lighting up the room in its wake.

  “What time is it?” I feel like I haven’t slept in years.

  He checks his old wind-up watch as he sits on the couch next to me. “It’s going on ten.”

  I’m seriously going to have to invest in one of those if I plan on living here much longer.

  “Ten a.m., right?” That would explain the grogginess. I’d only been asleep for about thirty minutes.

  “No, p.m.”

  “Are you being serious?” I slept for twelve hours? That’s twelve hours lost. Twelve hours that I could have used to do research, or work on my powers.

  “Yes, I’m being serious. How long have you been asleep?” he asks, smoothing the hair from my face.

  “Way too long. I’ll be right back.” I leave him sitting with a confused look on his face as I dash up the stairs to change. It takes me less than five minutes to slip on a pair of jeans, put my hair up, and grab a few candles before rushing back. I place my things on the table as I put my running shoes on.

  “Hey, slow down. Where do you think you’re off to?”

  “I have to … work on something,” I say as I tie my last shoe.

  “Cait, you can’t stop this. There’s nothing you can do,” he says, taking me by the shoulders. “Let it go.”

  “What if I can stop it? What if I can fight the Redeemers?”

  “It’s not possible,” he says, shaking his head. “You’ve seen what happens to anyone who tries to fight them.”

  “That’s the thing,” I say. “You haven’t seen what I can do to them. I have powers. I can stop them.”

  He stares at me blankly, but he doesn’t laugh. That’s a good sign.

  “What exactly is it you can do?”

  “It has something to do with my ancestry. Something with the Nez Perce blood in my veins. My mother was a threat to them. That’s how she got away. Whatever power she had was passed on to me.”

  “And you know this how?”

  “Mom left me a letter. She didn’t explain everything, but I did something last night when the Redeemers came into our home. I killed one of them. I touched it and it exploded.”

  He shakes his head, an eyebrow raised in disbelief. “You can’t kill what’s already dead.”

  “But I did.”

  “So, you’re really going to trust a letter from your dead mother? What if she’s wrong? What if you can’t do what she says you can? You have to admit, it sounds pretty crazy.”

  “You saw Reverend Carter’s reaction when I touched him this morning. I have to try.” I give him a peck on the cheek and move toward the front door.

  “You can’t go that way,” he says, stopping me.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t have the same type of Redeemer melting power tha
t you do, and they could kill me.”

  “You can’t come with me. I can’t put you in danger like that. Grab one of the candles and go back through the tunnels to your house,” I plead.

  “If you walk around outside they will see you. They’ll more than likely guess what you are up to. You could be ambushed. Whatever power it is you claim to have might not be strong enough to take on a whole horde of them at once. Remember what happened the first night they came? I think it might be safer in the tunnels. Besides, I need my super-hero girlfriend to protect me if one of those dudes in the cloaks finds me down there.”

  I know he’s right after what happened last night. Going outside probably isn’t the best idea. I take his hand and he pulls me into his arms, kissing me firmly on the mouth.

  “You’re staying at your house, though. Got it? I’m not going to risk losing you. And since when am I your girlfriend?”

  He blushes and looks away. “We’ll talk about it later,” he says, grabbing a candle and heading for the basement.

  “Okay, but I’m serious about you not coming with me.” My tone is firm, but he ignores it.

  “We’re wasting time with all this discussion. Let’s go,” he says, disappearing into the basement.

  I glance over my shoulder, searching the hallway for signs of movement. My dad’s bedroom door remains closed. He’ll probably sleep through the night. I should leave him a note in case I don’t make it back, but I decide not to bother.

  Trevor extends his hand and guides me down the stairs to the basement. He briefly stops to kiss me before leading me to the back wall. The door to the tunnels is slightly ajar, and when we pull it open a shriek escapes me when I see the figure standing there. Trevor steps in front of me, ready to fight.

  “It’s all right. It’s just me.” Miss Simons steps out of the shadow of the doorway and into the flickering light of Trevor’s candle. “I’ve come to help you.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Trevor steps in front of me, throwing out a protective arm. I still don’t think he’s grasped the fact that I can do much more damage than he ever could.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask from behind him.

  “I had a feeling you’d go after your brother. I can’t let you go unprepared,” she says.

  “Unprepared for what?” Trevor asks.

  Evidently, she doesn’t know what I am capable of.

  “You hold a deep power, Caitlyn. It’s very strong, but it won’t help you if you don’t know how to use it properly against the things you are so hell-bent on destroying. You have no idea what you are planning to take on,” she says, her face solemn. “The Redeemers are one thing, but there are much greater forces at play here.”

  “How do you know about my power?” I’m beginning to think I have some type of mark on my forehead.

  “I know a lot more about this than you would think. Most importantly, I know exactly what it is you need to do to protect yourself.”

  I look at her with confusion. What is she, some big Redeemer slayer and now she’s going to train me?

  “I love that you care, but I barely know you, and quite honestly, I don’t really trust anyone in his town—especially those I don’t know. Stranger danger and all that aside, you kind of freak me out a little. I appreciate the offer of help, but you need to get out of the way and let me go do what I need to do.”

  “He can’t go with you,” she says, nodding in Trevor’s direction.

  “I’m taking him home.”

  “And then what?” she asks, crossing her arms.

  “And then I’m going to go find the answers I need,” I say, stepping around Trevor and into the tunnel.

  “Do you have any idea what you are looking for, or where to find it?”

  I seriously want to punch her in the face. Who is this woman anyway? She creeps around, practically stalking me, and then she shows up in my basement offering her help.

  “And you do?” Trevor chimes in.

  “Yes. I do.”

  “Why should I trust you?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest, matching her smug stance. “For all I know, you could be one of them.”

  “I am,” she says, her eyes never leaving my face. “Or at least, I was at one point in time.”

  “So there’s a cure for … Redeemerism, or whatever?” I joke.

  “Not exactly—unless your physical body dies and the soul doesn’t have a chance to attach to a new body.”

  “I’m confused,” Trevor says.

  “Look, we can sit here and discuss this all night, or we can go find the answers you are looking for. I can help, but you have to trust me.”

  I turn the pros and cons over in my head. There’s only one of her. I can take her if I need to. It’s the big groups I have trouble with. Unless, of course, she’s leading me into some sort of trap. What if she’s working with Monique? It’s a chance I’ll have to take.

  “Let’s go.” I push past her and step into the tunnel.

  “Cait, wait,” Trevor says, stumbling behind me. “Why don’t we talk to her first and see what she knows?”

  “Because we don’t have time.” I march forward, Miss Simmons’ torch lighting the way from behind us. “She may have the answers I need. We only have three nights left. I have to stop this.”

  “You’re not thinking clearly.” He places a hand on my shoulder to stop me. Frustration boils inside me, erupting in a ball of power. Before I realize what I’ve done, I feel Trevor’s hand leave my shoulder. I turn to see him flying through the air, narrowly missing Miss Simmons before slamming into a wall.

  “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”

  Trevor crumbles to the ground a good twenty feet away, and both Miss Simmons and I run toward him. A small trickle of blood runs from his temple. Thoughts of Matt, the guy I killed, push at my memory. I’m reminded of how I’d thrown him into a wall when he’d tried to attack me. The way I’d thrown his truck off the road and caused it to burst into flames when he’d chased after Jonah and me.

  I killed Matt.

  Have I killed Trevor, too?

  Tears stream down my cheeks as I back away from him. Miss Simmons crouches beside him, taking his wrist between her thumb and forefinger.

  My heart leaps into my throat when she turns to look at me. Please don’t be dead.

  “He’s fine,” she says with a small smile. “We gotta get those powers of yours under control. We should have worked on this long ago. I didn’t think … ”

  Trevor moans, pulling her attention back to him. She cups his face in her right hand while licking the thumb of her left. She then runs her wet thumb over the gash on his forehead and as she does so, the wound begins to heal.

  She closes her eyes, still cupping his face in her hand as she runs her left hand over his head. The movement is tender and loving and awfully familiar. My mother used to do the same thing to me whenever I was sick. It made me feel better in minutes. My eyes well with tears at the memory.

  Trevor stirs, his eyes flickering open.

  “I’m so sorry,” I say, crouching beside him. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” he says, struggling to stand. Miss Simmons and I each grab one of his hands, pulling him to his feet. “Quite a throw you got on you, Green Eyes.”

  I laugh, pulling him in for a hug.

  “You okay to keep walking?” Miss Simmons asks. “We need to get you home before they realize you’re gone. In fact … ” She turns me toward her and removes the pendant from around my neck.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” I try to snatch the necklace from her, but she’s too quick. “Nana said I have to wear that so they can’t track me.”

  “You’re with me. You’ll be fine. We have to send Trevor home, and if they see your energy hanging on him when they patrol, they’ll know he’s been out of his house after hours. He could be killed. He needs the stone’s protection more than you do right now.”


  “But, technically, I’m not outside,” Trevor says. “The rule is you can’t be outside.”

  “No,” Miss Simmons corrects, “the rule is you can’t leave your house. You did. You’re fair game.”

  Trevor tucks the pendant beneath his shirt, no doubt embarrassed to be wearing a girl’s necklace. I want to tease him about it, but this isn’t the time or place.

  “You have to promise me you won’t leave your house again tonight. You’ll not only put yourself in danger, but Cait and me as well. Do you understand?”

  “Can’t I just come with you?” Trevor asks. “I want to help.”

  “You’ll be more of a hindrance right now. I’m sorry.”

  We reach the tunnel that leads to his house and Miss Simmons stops, indicating it’s time for him to go on.

  Trevor looks at her and then at me, desperation teasing the edges of his eyes. “I can help.”

  I shake my head. “Not tonight. Go home. I don’t want to put you in danger.”

  “But what about you?”

  “Do you seriously doubt my ability to protect myself after I threw your ass across the tunnel? I think I’ll be okay.”

  He offers me a weak smile, but it’s tinged with worry. “Please don’t do anything stupid.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” He knows me too well. I’m the queen of stupid.

  “We need to get going,” Miss Simmons says. “The longer we’re down here, the more likely we are to run into someone who wouldn’t be happy to see us.”

  Trevor glances over his shoulder before taking my hand in his and placing it to his chest. “Stay safe, okay?” His voice shakes and my heart flutters in response. He’s terrified of losing me.

  Miss Simmons spins him around to face her and places her hands on either side of his face. “Trevor Perkins. Go home. Go directly to bed. Do not leave your house again until the bells toll in the morning.”

  He nods wordlessly before turning in the direction of his house. I watch him go until the flickering light of his candle disappears behind his basement door.